The Dunker

I made my way to the back of a long, gray metal tube and meekly settled into one of the back window seats. Although I was alongside eight of my peers, I felt completely alone. We sat perched about ten feet above a large, deep swimming pool by a system of cables and pulleys. All of this was designed to simulate a helicopter crash and would capsize upon entering the water.

The two-hour bus ride to the Marine Corps air station that morning would do nothing to calm my nerves. The fact that I was not in this alone was of no distraction to my fears. The truth was that I was terrified. I was on my way to a military aviation training evolution in which the main training aid was the 9D5, affectionately known as “The Dunker.” It was designed to train aviators for the worst, including how to fight the urge to panic.

Sitting in my seat awaiting my destiny, I thought back to an acronym mentioned in orientation. D.O.R. - which meant that we all had the option to Disenroll On Request, without reprimand. A big deal for the military setting I was in.

It played over in my head like a dream; I would get up and say that I was simply uncomfortable and be saved from this prospect that had brought me nightmares for months. Looking back, I try to remember if it was my will to succeed or fear that kept me from leaving my seat that day.

I tried to match the countdown in my head with that of the instructor's. However, it was unsuccessfully replaced with the rhythm of my heart pounding in my chest. The drop to the water was fast in contrast to the moments beforehand. However, the eight-second wait thereafter, in which we were to remain still and allow for all movement to subside, seemed like an utter eternity.

The chlorine from the water stung my nose at first and flooded me with self-doubt. The water, though inviting, sent a chill through my body. In that threshold of time my life stood in balance, without breath, without fear. I couldn't help but wonder, would a real helicopter crash go this way, this smoothly? Then I realized that it was the answer to that question that was the cause of my fear. Fear of this day, and of a job that would have me flying in potentially dangerous situations.

I unfastened my seatbelt and fought my way to the exit and freed myself of the mock helicopter. As I broke the surface of the water, elation filled me. I overcame.

I often draw strength from the lessons that I learned at The Dunker that day. I would probably describe what I learned there as the first life-lesson I faced as an adult. It's funny, because I even have a shirt to commemorate the experience. It reads, "Panic in a can" and "I will survive because of the 9D5."

I now know that self doubt and uncertainty are an all too prevalent part of life. But more importantly, I learned that it usually bridges the gap between where I am and where I want to be. So, I found strength in my weakness, and formed a roadmap of how I would overcome difficult situations in my life, one bridge at a time.