Bringing Justice: Guardsman Chases 'Bad Guys' As Detective, TACP

Master Sgt. Patrick DiCrasto is a tactical air control party specialist at Hancock Air National Guard Base, N.Y., home of the 174th Attack Wing of the New York Air National Guard, and a detective with the Syracuse Police Department’s Special Investigations Division. His main role in SID is investigating narcotics activity throughout Syracuse, N.Y. (U.S. Air Force photo/Staff Sgt. Andrew Lee)

Whether he’s calling in close air support during a firefight or investigating narcotics activity in Syracuse, N.Y., Master Sgt. Patrick DiCrasto’s mind is focused on bringing justice to the “bad guys.”
The tactical air control party specialist at Hancock Air National Guard Base, N.Y., home of the 174th Attack Wing of the New York Air National Guard, is also a detective with the Syracuse Police Department’s Special Investigations Division. The division investigates narcotics activity and vice and works hand in hand with the gang task force. He’s also an assistant team leader with the department’s SWAT sniper squad.
“It’s what we’re here for – to get justice,” said DiCrasto, who’s also the 274th Air Support Operations Squadron superintendent of operations under the wing. The squadron is a TAC-P unit that primarily coordinates and controls close air support for an Army maneuver unit.
“We’re going out looking for bad guys overseas, and we’re going out looking for bad guys here in Syracuse. The biggest difference is you have to be able to separate the military job from the police job because you obviously can’t call in air strikes back here,” he said. “Overseas, I know what I’m there to do and what I can do to get the job done. My actions are governed by the rules of engagement, the ground scheme of maneuver and the commander’s intent. When I’m back home, I know that it’s local, state and federal laws that govern what I do as a police officer.”
DiCrasto’s two roles have several similarities, but he also knows to remain vigilant in both settings for anyone who might wish to do him harm.

Master Sgt. Patrick DiCrasto, a tactical air control party specialist at Hancock Air National Guard Base, N.Y., talks with Private First Class Dustin Spradling, with the 187th Infantry, about who will be coordinating with the incoming aircraft for an exercise at the Fort Drum bomb range in New York. (U.S. Air Force photo/Staff Sgt. Andrew Lee)

“I can’t say being a police officer on the street is like being in combat,” DiCrasto said. “However, cops on the street always need to have that heightened sense of security, just like when you’re on patrol in Iraq and Afghanistan. You are always on point when it comes to looking for suspicious activity, identifying possible enemy activity, or providing security for you, your team and everyone else.”
DiCrasto began his military career as an infantryman on active duty in the Army, then worked with a scout reconnaissance platoon in the National Guard. He left the Guard to become a police officer and joined the Air National Guard in 2003, completing his TAC-P training at Hurlburt Field, Fla., the following year.
His Army background has proven useful with building trust while working with ground troops in forward locations. He deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq twice each, the last time in 2010, and found building trust a difficult, but necessary, part of the TACP role during the wars in both theaters. The knowledge that he was a prior infantryman, coupled with his SWAT experience in the police force, helped bridge that gap easier, DiCrasto believes.
“Sometimes it’s tough because you have to build that respect and trust,” he said. “Typically, it’s done in the field when your unit becomes engaged in direct combat. They’re looking to see if you can do your job, and if they can count on you to call in air support and get ordnance on target. They are always assessing to see if you can be a combat operator like them and a TAC-P. That’s when they know they can count on you.”

Syracuse police detectives Patrick DiCrasto and his partner, Dave Metz, stop two local residents after spotting suspicious activity. DiCrasto has worked in the police department’s Special Investigations Division since 2012. His main role in SID is investigating narcotics activity throughout the city.  (U.S. Air Force photo/Staff Sgt. Andrew Lee)

The same is true in police work, when officers must depend on each other to not only save their own lives, but also those of innocent civilians. Perhaps that’s why some of his most memorable cases were those he worked with Detective Steven Kilburn of the criminal investigations division. DiCrasto and Kilburn a former partner DiCrasto has known since they attended the police academy in Syracuse together, shared some of the same assignments in their careers. Although they no longer work in the same division, they remain close friends.
“I have known Pat for almost 18 years,” Kilburn said. “We went through the academy together and worked side by side for several years. I have always had admiration for him, not only because of his policing abilities, but also because of his service in the Air National Guard, and that is hard for me to say, being a former Marine. But Pat has made several sacrifices for the City of Syracuse, and even more so for the United States.”
While both worked in CID in 2006, they responded to a stabbing at about 2 a.m. A woman in her late 40s was stabbed multiple times, and her mentally-challenged adult son was also stabbed. Paramedics pronounced her dead at the scene, and the son was transferred to a local hospital but wasn’t able to help in the investigation. Some at the scene believed the case was a burglary turned violent, but DiCrasto and his partner thought the evidence showed otherwise.
“When my partner and I began discussing it, we believed the evidence at the scene pointed in a different direction,” he said. “This was not some burglar who came in and got spooked and stabbed her to death. This was somebody who was in a fit of rage. So we started focusing that night on previous boyfriends.”

Detective Patrick DiCrasto fires his rifle at steel targets during training for the Syracuse Police Department’s SWAT sniper team. DiCrasto has been part of the police force for more than 17 years. (U.S. Air Force photo/Staff Sgt. Andrew Lee)

They locked in on a suspect, tracked him down and found evidence in his house that supported their belief he was involved in the murder. After only a few hours of interviewing the suspect, he gave a full videotaped confession.
“It was pretty memorable because of the fact that it seemed like most wanted to go with a different theory, but my partner and I believed it was probably not a typical burglary gone wrong,” DiCrasto said.
“What was also memorable about this was at first the guy put up the resistance to our questioning, which is pretty typical of everybody we interview,” he said. “But after being presented with some of the evidence and what our theories were, it was almost like a switch had been thrown with this guy, and he wanted to tell his story. He wanted everybody to know he went there to murder her. You could tell there was evil behind his eyes, and he wanted to tell his story. As we originally suspected, he was enraged by their recent breakup.”
In another case the two officers worked on in one of the department’s crime suppression units, they collared two fugitive homicide suspects within two weeks. The first was a fugitive from Alabama who was working from an apartment building with a reputation for crime and drug activity. They used a proactive tactic to combat the nightly criminal activity at this location, he said.
“It was basically to leave two guys back, so my partner and I stayed behind after we saturated the building with our entire unit,” DiCrasto said. “Typically, when the cops leave, everybody starts coming back out. We waited in a stairwell until we heard voices, and came out and grabbed a bunch of people. One of them happened to be the homicide suspect.”

After pulling over a car for speeding in a residential area, Patrick DiCrasto asks for the driver’s information. DiCrasto is a detective with the Syracuse Police Department’s Special Investigations Division, as well as a tactical air control party specialist at Hancock Air National Guard Base, N.Y. (U.S. Air Force photo/Staff Sgt. Andrew Lee)

The second fugitive had been the driver in a drive-by shooting in New York City, and the pair stopped him for a taillight violation. Even though he gave them a fake name, they took the time to identify him through the department’s computerized photo system instead of letting him go with a warning.
Both DiCrasto’s civilian and military occupations are also service-directed and save lives. A TAC-P, who is a qualified joint terminal attack controller, is a force-multiplier on the battlefield, he said.
“I don’t really see my job as going out there and saving lives,” DiCrasto said of his TAC-P responsibilities. “Our job is to basically go out there and kill as much of the enemy as possible and be a force multiplier for the ground commander and his maneuver element or team. But when you get into a firefight, you typically need air support because you and your ground commander or team leader are trying to mass as much firepower on the enemy as possible. At the end of the day, depending on the situation, the close air support you called in may have saved lives. That’s one of the aspects of this job that make it so satisfying.”
DiCrasto moved to the special investigations division in 2012 after first working patrol, crime suppression and criminal investigations during his 17 years on the force. His main role in SID is investigating narcotics activity throughout the city.
“Some people think of drugs as a victimless crime, but I don’t believe it is,” he said. “I have seen how it destroys people when they are hooked on drugs and how it destroys your family. A good majority of our murders are drug and gang-related here.
“The drug users can be considered victims of their addiction, and victims of the drug dealers that pedal their products and prey on their addiction. Even though they are willing participants purchasing and using narcotics, they really are the victims because of how destructive some drugs can be.”

Master Sgt. Patrick DiCrasto is a tactical air control party specialist at Hancock Air National Guard Base, N.Y., home of the 174th Attack Wing of the New York Air National Guard, and a detective with the Syracuse Police Department’s Special Investigations Division. (U.S. Air Force photo/Staff Sgt. Andrew Lee)

While DiCrasto has grown accustomed to seeing some disturbing scenes during his two careers, both in a war zone and in the city, he still has his focus on bringing justice. That remains the case, whether he’s working to help protect ground forces in a firefight or the citizens of Syracuse.

- See more at: http://airman.dodlive.mil/2014/09/bringing-justice/#sthash.OCBIcNH2.dpuf

Water Police: MacDill's 'Navy' Monitors Restricted Waters Surrounding the Base

Marine patrol members Staff Sgt. Alyssa Rade (left) and Senior Airman Shane Ynclan are just like land-based security forces Airmen, except they patrol the base’s waters instead of buildings and streets. (U.S. Air Force photo/Master Sgt. Jeffrey Allen)

Staff Sgt. Alyssa Rade and Senior Airman Shane Ynclan keep a vigilant watch over their base. They confront and deal with any trespassers in their restricted area. The difference for these security forces members is the zone they patrol isn’t the flightline using a squad car, instead their watch is on the ocean waters surrounding MacDill Air Force Base, Fla. driving a high-powered boat.

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They patrol MacDill’s 7.2-mile coastline, called the coastal restricted area, which extends 1,000 yards from the shoreline and 2,000 yards from the flightline, making it a “danger zone.” The 6th Security Forces Squadron Marine Patrol Airmen have patrolled the waters continuously since the patrol was initiated in November 2011.

In the aftermath of 9/11, a base threat assessment identified the coastline as a vulnerable area to a terrorist attack, and with critical missions that take place at Macdill, including organizations like U.S. Central Command, U.S. Special Operations Command, the Joint Communications Support Element and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration hurricane reconnaissance aircraft, securing the coastline is a priority. While almost 10 other bases have marine patrols, MacDill’s is the only 24/7 operation of its kind in the Air Force.

Staff Sgt. Alyssa Rade returns to the MacDill Air Force Base marina after patrolling the base’s shoreline. Rade is a member of the 6th Security Forces Squadron’s Marine Patrol Flight. (U.S. Air Force photo/Master Sgt. Jeffrey Allen)

“What’s unique is the area around the base is an actual security zone, so no one and no vessel is allowed within that security zone,” said Officer Jesse Gabbert, the 6th SFS Marine Patrol officer in charge. “That’s the primary reason we’re out here, to make sure no one comes into the security zone. Anybody who comes into the security zone is considered a threat until our personnel can deem otherwise, and they respond accordingly, just like they normally would if an individual were to break the red perimeter out on the flightline.”

Only environmentalist researchers and local and state law enforcement agencies are allowed in the restricted zone. Motion sensor cameras are manned in the control center to aid the patrols in spotting unauthorized boats in the area. The marine patrol crews have arrest and apprehension authority within the area, but they mostly work with state and local police departments and the Coast Guard.

When they find boaters operating under the influence of alcohol or drugs or other criminal activity, they usually detain them until other law enforcement agencies like Florida Fish and Wildlife or the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Office marine units arrive to make the arrest.

For security forces members, working in the marine patrol flight requires a separate screening process. In addition to a records review, they also must have a minimum 85 physical fitness test score and pass a swimming test in the 200-meter freestyle and 25-meter underwater, as well as be able to tread water in their Airman Battle Uniform for five minutes. (U.S. Air Force photo/Master Sgt. Jeffrey Allen)

When a two-person crew like Rade and Ynclan spot a boat in their restricted zone, they pull up to it with lights flashing or sirens blaring and call in a “Code Five” to the Base Defense Operations Center, just as they would if they were land-based security forces. They challenge all occupants, who are directed to raise their hands while the patrol crew accesses the situation.

After taking the boat outside the restricted area, Rade and Ynclan ask for driver’s licenses and boat registration to run it through the BDOC’s law enforcement terminal system and screen it through National Crime Information Center. They make sure each occupant has a life preserver and look for signs of alcohol. Even if the boaters are doing nothing but fishing or simply got lost, the patrol is usually direct in pointing out they are in a restricted area.

“We’re going to challenge them and make sure we can see what they’re doing on board,” Rade said. “We will explain to them why we pulled them over, that they pretty much broke into our restricted area. We explain the $275 fine for an initial infraction, and that it could go up to a $3,000 fine and apprehension the next time they come in. We issue them a citation, a DD Form 1805, a district court notice violation. After that, we give them the ticket and send them on their way.”

By far, the patrol’s busiest time is in late January and early February, during Tampa Bay’s Gasparilla Fest. The festival celebrates a legend of a mythical Spanish pirate captain and is basically a water boat parade, with more than 1,000 boats in the area. This year, three marine patrols stopped between 50 to 60 vessels and detected several boating under the influence offenses. In a normal week, they may encounter five or six boats, with more activity during the summer.

Staff Sgt. Alyssa Rade, 6th Security Forces Squadron’s Marine Patrol Flight, ties the unit’s patrol boat to the dock after her shift. (U.S. Air Force photo/Master Sgt. Jeffrey Allen)

“It was so bad we would have two boats tied to our boat, and we would be issuing and briefing people left and right,” Rade said. “People who didn’t even know each other would be pulled up together alongside us.”

While Ynclan was already a veteran boater, having grown up in Florida, Rade had never driven a boat before her marine patrol training. Both found their unique job a refreshing change from gate and patrol duty on land.

“It’s definitely a big adjustment to be out on the boat every single day,” Ynclan said. “The things you normally do with your job, like using the radio, becomes a little more difficult on the water with the waves and moving with the boat. So everything gets heightened a little bit on the water.”

While most of the job is spotting trespassers and looking for signs of impaired boaters, the patrol has saved at least one life. A two-man crew was able to reach a 17-year-old who lost his father’s sailboat in 50-mph winds and was about to capsize in his rubber dinghy when they reached him. Both members were awarded medals for what they did that day.

One of the challenges in patrolling the MacDill waters is the range of the water depth. In some areas, the water is as shallow as just a few inches; in others, it can be as deep as 25 to 30 feet. They have four 29-foot aluminum chamber boats and two 26-foot Armstrong boats, as well as two jet propulsion boats that are ideal for shallow water.

Gabbert retired as a master sergeant from security forces, where he was the training and resources superintendent at MacDill and joined the marine patrol in 2009. They were looking for someone who could manage a consistent training standard. The MacDill program has become one that other installations have looked to in starting their own marine patrol.

“We’ve reached a level of being recognized as the premier marine patrol in the Air Force,” he said. “We are trying to lean forward for the Air Force and train units at other bases. The reason I came out here was that training standard, and that’s something we envision–to hopefully push an Air Force standard for marine patrol.”

Another recent success is a partnership with the Security Forces Center Innovation Department and U.S. Transportation Command to develop electronic tactics, techniques and procedures for utilizing non-lethal weapon systems in a maritime environment, Gabbert said.

Security forces members must pass a screening process and interview, which includes an examination of performance reports and duty history. They also must have a minimum 85 physical fitness test score and pass a swimming test in the 200-meter freestyle and 25-meter underwater, as well as be able to tread water in their Airman Battle Uniform for five minutes. When selected, they have a 30-day probationary period to prove they will be able to handle a boat while completing training through the National Association of State Boating Law Administrators.

Senior Airman Shane Ynclan is assigned to MacDill Air Force Base’s 6th Security Forces Squadron’s Marine Patrol Flight. Security forces marine Airmen have patrolled the waters surrounding MacDill continuously since the patrol was initiated in November 2011. (U.S. Air Force photo/Master Sgt. Jeffrey Allen)

Once trained and on the job, the patrol crew members are just like their land-based security forces professionals–except they patrol the base’s waters instead of buildings and streets.

“The way I always relate it to security forces is they are patrolmen, just that they are marine patrolmen,” Gabbert said. “They’re not operating a $27,000 sedan, they’re operating a $200,000 boat. The biggest thing is maturity, even with the young Airmen we get because we’re entrusting them with that type of equipment and operating out there in those types of conditions.”

- See more at: http://airman.dodlive.mil/2014/07/water-police/#sthash.tFR6SuYe.dpuf

The Mighty War Wagon: KC-135's Replacement is Near, But 50-Year-Old Aircraft Still Has Few Years Left to Carry AF Fuel

An F-16 Fighting Falcon is refueled by a KC-135 Stratotanker during a cross-country flight. The KC-135 also provides aerial refueling support to Air Force, Navy, Marine Corps and allied nation aircraft.

About 20,000 feet above Valdosta, Ga., Capt. Matthew Swee and Master Sgt. Nancy Primm complete their checklists to prepare their tanker to link up with six A-10 Thunderbolt IIs for a training refueling mission.
KC-135 Stratotankers like the one flown by the 6th Mobility Wing crew from MacDill Air Force Base, Fla., will eventually be replaced by the KC-46A Pegasus. But the 50-year-old airplane the old Strategic Air Command alert crews nicknamed “The Mighty War Wagon” still has some years ahead of it and planes to fuel.
“I think the latest generation of tanker crews have kind of lost that concept of ‘The War Wagon,’ because the majority of crew members never sat on alert for SAC. The majority of those boom operators have retired, so the concept of ‘The War Wagon’ and what it was designed to do has been kind of lost over the years,” said Master Sgt. Ernest Burns, the superintendent of a 418th Flight Test Squadron detachment that is testing the KC-46 in Seattle.
Early in his career, Burns was a boom operator with many of the SAC alert crewmembers who came up with the nickname because of the KC-135’s original mission.
“The nickname stems from what the KC-135 was designed to do. It was designed to re-fuel a SAC bomber, specifically the B-52 (Stratofortress), to go to war. So that was where ‘The War Wagon’ came from, it was designed to go to war, to re-fuel the B-52.”

Tech. Sgt. Stephen Shin inspects KC-135 Stratotanker nose gear doors before taking off a training mission. Shin is a crew chief with the 927th Aircraft Maintenance Squadron at MacDill Air Force Base, Fla.

The KC-135 has been at the core of the Air Force’s aerial refueling mission for more than five decades. The first one flew in 1956, and the Air Force received the latest models nine years later. In the past 13 years, the tankers flew 33,500 sorties and refueled more than 135,000 aircraft with more than 12 billion gallons of fuel, according to Air Force statistics. In addition to refueling, KC-135s have also been used in command post and reconnaissance missions. Life-cycle upgrades, including communications, auto-pilot and surveillance equipment, to the KC-135R/T models expanded their capabilities and made them more reliable.
In 1993, MacDill AFB lost its flying mission when the Defense Base Closure and Realignment Commission moved the F-16 Fighting Falcon mission to Luke Air Force Base, Ariz. But it began to change with the arrival of the 6th Air Base Wing a year later, followed by the refueling mission in 1996, said 6th Air Mobility Wing historian William R. Polson.
“MacDill was chosen as the site for the KC-135 air refueling mission, in part, because tankers flew fewer flights than the fighters and were less noisy, the tankers were more compatible with the aircraft of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, and the tankers were compatible with the predominant types of aircraft using the nearby busy airports in Tampa and St. Petersburg,” Polson said.
The 1995 BRAC sent the Malmstrom Air Force Base, Mont., refueling mission with 12 KC-135s to MacDill AFB, and the 6th ABW became the 6th Air Refueling Wing, Polson said. In 2005, the Defense Department’s streamlining effort moved four more KC-135s from Grand Forks Air Force Base, N.D., to MacDill AFB. The base’s active-duty and Reserve KC-135 crews continue to support aircraft in the U.S. Central Command area of responsibility with about 1 million pounds of fuel daily, Polson said.

Senior Airman Rowdy Moore washes a KC-135 Stratotanker. Moore is assigned to 6th Aircraft Maintenance Squadron at MacDill Air Force Base, Fla.

Before Swee, Primm and the rest of their crew took off to meet the A-10s from Moody Air Force Base, Ga., Staff Sgt. Estefano Estrada, Airman 1st Class James Wild-Garcia and other 6th Aircraft Maintenance Squadron members prepared the KC-135 for the mission. As they drew near to the area where they would link, Primm began talking to the pilots and observing how they were flying their aircraft. Handling multiple planes requires the boom operator to become somewhat of a conductor, said Primm, a 91st Air Refueling Squadron boom operator and 6th Operations Support Squadron combat support flight superintendent.
“Aerial refueling is an aerial ballet,” said Primm. “It also takes on the aspect of the boom operator becoming something of a conductor, in that I’m telling this musician that his piece is coming up, and this is how I want you to play it. Once this person has played his piece of music, I’m going to direct him over here, and I’m going to direct you. So I become somewhat of a musical conductor.”
Even as the two planes draw near at 232 mph, Primm keeps her conversation to her pilot at a minimum, maybe telling him over her radio, “He is flying a little low,” or “He is flying a little to the right.” She learned the lesson of both minimal words and a moderate tone from an experienced pilot during boom operator training at Altus Air Force Base, Okla. “I try not to be a chatty Cathy because after a certain point, they’re going to start to tune me out, not because they want to, but because their brains can only handle so much,” she said. “So if I keep my updates to a minimum, then when I do start talking, they’re going to be listening to what I have to say.”
When the planes are linked for refueling, Primm is sometimes close enough to read the pilot’s name tag, she said.

The boom of KC-135 Stratotanker is connected to an A-10 Thunderbolt II during an aerial refueling mission. Once connected, fuel is transferred from the KC-135 to the A-10.

Once the KC-135 disconnects from aircraft it refueled, there isn’t a lot of emotion, whether they just completed a training mission or have given gas to a fighter aircraft in a war zone. All attention is still on the plane, and on the checklists that help make each mission successful and safe.
“Traditionally, we do this a lot, so it’s pretty routine for us because we train every day,” said Swee, a 6th OSS instructor pilot. “In terms of thoughts, what you’re doing is making sure all your safety checklists are complete, that you’re thinking ahead of the airplane, what the weather is down-track and trying to anticipate any issues that might come up while you have airplanes roughly 10 to 12 feet apart like we do.
“As you’re flying through the air, a lot of times you have to overcome turbulence that’s associated with flight, and you have additional air dynamics created from two airplanes interacting with each other,” he said. So, emotions don’t really come into play. There are plenty of things in terms of checklists and safety checks, and basic air traffic control that keep you busy.”
Burns is working on the developmental test for the KC-46A with Boeing and the 418th FTS detachment in Seattle. The new tanker’s first flight is scheduled for this summer in Washington, but Burns believes the KC-135 will be around for a few more decades.
“If you think about it, that airplane first flew 50 years after the Wright Brothers,” Burns said. “It’s really amazing how technology kind of went from the Wright Brothers to the KC-135 in just those 50 years. The first KC-135s rolled off the assembly line in 1955, and the last one was made in 1964, and they’re still around, very capable and reliable.”

From a pod in the rear of a KC-135 Stratotanker, Master Sgt. Nancy Primm connects a refueling boom and transfers fuel to an A-10 thunderbolt II during a training mission over Valdosta, Ga. Primm is a boom operator with the 6th Mobility Wing at MacDill Air Force Base, Fla.

Fallen Marine's Family Adopts His Best Friend

LACKLAND AIR FORCE BASE, Texas, Feb. 4, 2011 – "Whatever is mine is his," Marine Corps Pfc. Colton W. Rusk wrote about Eli, his military working dog, in the final days of their deployment in Afghanistan.

Brady Rusk, 12, gets a somber kiss from Eli, a bomb-sniffing military working dog, during a retirement and adoption ceremony at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas, Feb. 3, 2011. The Labrador retriever was assigned to Brady's older brother, Marine Corps Pfc. Colton Rusk, who was killed in Afghanistan. U.S. Air Force photo by Tech. Sgt. Bennie J. Davis III   (Click photo for screen-resolution image);high-resolution image available.

Yesterday, Rusk's family helped to prove his words true when they adopted the black Labrador retriever in a retirement and adoption ceremony at the military working dog school here.

After Rusk, 20, was killed Dec. 5 in Afghanistan’s Helmand province by Taliban sniper fire, Marine Corps officials told Darrell and Kathy Rusk, his parents, that Eli, the young Marine’s infantry explosives detector dog, crawled on top of their son to protect him after he was shot.

The Rusks drove here from their home in Orange Grove, Texas, along with their sons -- Cody, 22, and Brady, 12 -- as well as Rusk's aunt, Yvonne Rusk, and his grandparents, Jan Rusk and Katy and Wayne O'Neal.

Marine Corps Staff Sgt. Jessy Eslick of the Defense Department’s military working dog research and development section handed the leash to the family, praising Eli as "a dog that brought Marines home to their families."

Eli immediately began licking Kathy Rusk's palms and fell into the arms of his former handler's father.

"In his last letter we got the day before we buried him, at the very top was a little smudge that said 'Eli's kisses,'" said the fallen Marine’s mother, who wore a two-sided pendant with a photo of her son on one side and another snapshot of him with Eli on the other. "[Colton] thought whatever was [his] was Eli's. "We're Colton's family, so it's just right that we're Eli's family now."

Eli, who was trained in the military working dog program here, reportedly is the second working dog the Marines discharged to permit adoption by a fallen handler's family. Cpl. Dustin J. Lee's family adopted his German shepherd, Lex, after the Quitman, Miss., Marine died from wounds he received in a mortar attack in Iraq’s Anbar province March 21, 2007. The corporal's family worked for nine months with an online petition and congressional help to secure the adoption.

Kathy Rusk said her family didn't have as many obstacles in their quest to adopt Eli. Texas Gov. Rick Perry started the process of working with the Marines on the dog's discharge, and Scooter Kelo, who trained Eli and also taught Rusk on working with the dog, also helped to make the adoption possible.

"It gets our mind off the sadness of losing Colton," she said, "just knowing we're going to have a little piece of Colton in Eli. I just wished he could talk and tell us some stories. Just to know we're going to be able to share the love we have for our son with something that he loved dearly."

Rusk joined the Marines after he graduated from Orange Grove High School and committed himself to the Marines the same week that his best friend, Marine Corps Lance Cpl. Justin Rokohl, lost both legs in southern Afghanistan. Rusk deployed to Afghanistan on his 20th birthday, with Eli, as part of the 3rd Battalion, 5th Regiment, from Camp Pendleton, Calif.

"He wanted to be a Marine since he was 10 years old," his mother said of her fallen son. "We talked to him about maybe going to college first, but he said he had to fight for his country first."

Rusk often told his parents how dogs like Eli were well-trained here and in South Carolina, where he was trained as a bomb detector dog handler.

"We've had dogs all of our lives," Darrell Rusk said. "Since all of the boys were babies, they had one. Colton was probably the better handler of the bunch. When he went to train in South Carolina, he said, 'Dad, we don't know how to train dogs. These dogs here will bring you a beer, they'll open the can for you, but sometimes they'll drink it for you, too.' He said that was how well-trained the dogs were, and he was really amazed how much you can do with a dog once you've worked with them."

The dog Rusk liked to call "My boy, Eli" earned a reputation for wanting to be wherever his handler was. Eli didn't want to sleep on the ground; he slept in Rusk's sleeping bag. They even ate together outside after Rusk found out that Eli wasn't allowed to eat in the chow hall.

"He told a story of when they were in the chow line one time," the fallen Marine’s father said. "One of the Marines kicked at the dog one time and told him to get the dog out. Colton and the Marine got into a little scuffle. They told Colton he could stay inside and leave the dog outside, but from then on, Colton and Eli ate outside. That's how tight he and the dog were."

The family met Eli once when they visited Rusk at Camp Pendleton the week he deployed. After the retirement and adoption ceremony, the Rusks took Eli to their home on more than 20 acres of land, which he will share with the family, their horses and three German shepherds.

Jan Rusk said this was another way to honor her grandson’s memory, but it also will help the family as they continue to cope with their loss.

"Eli was a part of Colton, and now they have a little part of Colton back," she said.

Two Brothers With One Mission: Saving Lives

Pararescue Jumper Staff Sgt. Cody Inman, assigned to the 210th Rescue Squadron, Alaska Air National Guard, left and his brother Special Mission Aviator Staff Sgt. Jacob Inman, assigned to the 212th Rescue Squadron, Alaska Air National Guard, pose for a photograph in front of a HH-60 Pave Hawk helicopter on Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska, Nov. 20, 2013. (U.S. Air Force photo/Justin Connaher)

By Randy Roughton
AF.mil

Alaska -- Almost every time Barbara Inman hears a helicopter flying near her home in Anchorage, Alaska, she wonders if one of her two sons is on the way to save another life.

Staff Sgts. Cody and Jake Inman are both part of the Alaska Air National Guard’s rescue mission here. Cody is a pararescueman with the 212th Rescue Squadron while his brother is an HH-60 Pave Hawk special mission aviator in the 210th RQS, a new Air Force Specialty Code that combined the former aerial gunner and flight engineer career fields.

“My mom and dad (Michael) are always curious,” Cody said. “My mom thinks we’re on every helicopter in the state. She will text me, ‘Are you guys on a mission?’ I tell her, ‘No, Mom. We’re both off today.’”

While they were growing up in Anchorage, the brothers weren’t particularly close, partly because Cody was more than three years older than Jake. Working the same mission across the street from each other in their respective squadrons for the past two years seems to have strengthened their bond as brothers. However, when one brother knows the other is on a mission, the concern isn’t much different than it would be for any fellow squadron member. That’s because they both consider them brothers, as well.

“We both have pretty tight-knit squadrons, and I think we see everyone in our squadrons as kind of like our own brothers,” Jake said. “When my brother is out on a mission, I know the guys I fly with are going to do their absolute best every time they’re on a rescue. We work with an amazing group of professional people. I don’t doubt anyone he goes out with, and I’m sure he doesn’t worry about me, either. So when he’s out on a mission, he’s not really much different from any other guy in my squadron.

“Obviously, there’s a little of that worry factor, but we’re all professionals and want to get the job done. We know there’s a certain amount of danger and risk involved with doing what we do. We just accept that and hope for the best.”

In 2003, Cody joined the Marine Corps, and Jake joined the ANG three years later when he graduated from high school. While serving in infantry, Cody encountered a number of pararescuemen, and their stories, combined with the lifesaving mission, convinced him to leave the Marines and join his brother in the Alaska ANG in 2009.

"If I had tried to become a pararescueman (after high school), I would not have made it,” Cody said. “The Marine Corps laid a foundation that allowed me to make it through the training at an older age. The chances of me making it through my school at the age of 18 would have been impossible.”

About the same time his brother began his training, Jake finally got his wish of cross-training from crew chief to flight engineer. They were reunited while both were still in training at Kirtland Air Force Base, N.M., and then moved on to their respective squadrons back in Alaska.

The 210th, 211th and 212th Rescue Squadrons conduct rescue operations in support of an 11th Air Force memorandum of understanding with the Alaska ANG, said Maj. Matthew Komatsu, 212th RQS director of operations. The late Sen. Ted Stevens pushed for a rapid rescue capability in the state after a plane crash at the Anchorage International Airport killed five people, including his wife, on Dec. 4, 1978. Stevens was also killed in a plane crash in Alaska on Aug. 9, 2010.

Two decades later, rescue crews continue to risk their lives under the motto, “That Others May Live.”

The 212th RQS is the only Guardian Angel squadron, which includes combat rescue officers, pararescuemen, and survival, evasion, resistance and escape, that is on 24/7 alert. So far this year, the squadron has completed about 55 missions and saved about 80 lives. Missions directed by the 11th Air Force Rescue Coordination Center, also located here, passed the 2,000 lives saved milestone earlier this year.

The pace for both jobs can get hectic, especially in the late summer and early fall. During one recent four-day period, the 212th RQS was tasked with six rescue missions, which included five crashed or missing airplanes and a bear attack. The real-world rescue missions are part of the reason many pararescuemen call Alaska “PJ Heaven.”

“Up here, things can go from pretty standard to crazy in a heartbeat,” Cody said.

One of his first missions after joining the squadron was a perfect example. His HC-130 Hercules crew was sent to rescue a woman who was experiencing serious medical issues near the Arctic Circle. They flew to Eielson Air Force Base, where they planned to board a Pave Hawk to rescue the woman and take her to a local hospital. However, the helicopter was down, so they were forced to leave the Pave Hawk crew behind.

“It was life or death for this woman, so pretty instantly, the PJs on the HC-130 crew went from watching an iPad movie to exiting the aircraft at 27 below in the dark under the Northern Lights with wolves howling at them,” Cody said. “I don’t think the man in that cabin expected men to fall out of the sky to help his wife.”

While the brothers have found themselves working on the same missions, it’s never on the same aircraft. The squadrons try to ensure they will never be on the same airplane or helicopter. They have also never deployed to the same location at the same time. But there have been times when they were both deployed at different places.

“We can’t fly together on the same aircraft, so we don’t usually see each other while doing our actual jobs,” Jake said. “The majority of the time we see the other is either at alert briefings or squadron functions. I’d say we both try to keep our heads together and just do our jobs and don’t even think twice about the fact that we’re brothers. It just doesn’t seem to affect us too much. I do my job, and he does his.”

There is time spent together and with Cody’s wife and Jake’s girlfriend, but it usually doesn’t involve activities one would think would interest Airmen with jobs like they have. Taking advantage of Alaska’s hunting and fishing opportunities doesn’t interest them because they get plenty of adventure on the job.

“I’m probably the only guy in Alaska who doesn’t really hunt or fish,” Cody said. “My job as a PJ allows me to do a lot of the outdoorsy things I want to do like hiking and mountaineering because of the environment I’m working in. The job kind of swallows everything to the point where the spare time you do have, you want to spend with your family and just enjoy a quiet weekend.”

They don’t consider the fact that they’re siblings serving in the Air Guard’s unique rescue mission in Alaska as anything out of the ordinary.

“There’s nothing really special about us. There are plenty of sibling members in the Guard,” Cody said. “We just happen to be related to each other, and we’re both very happy to be working in our respective units with the people we work with. I enjoy my work every day, and I think my brother does as well. There are dudes who have done a ton more than we have who deserve a lot more credit.”

The brothers consider each other perfectly suited for their chosen career fields in the Alaska rescue mission. Jake thinks his brother’s attributes serve him well while climbing ropes to rescue injured hikers, hunters and plane crash survivors, while Cody has similar thoughts on his brother’s skills as a special mission aviator.

“My brother is perfectly suited for his job because he’s a lot more intelligent and analytical than I am, and to a less extent, not as emotional,” Cody said. “He’s the one feeling the pulse of the helicopter, and if something goes wrong, he’s going to be the first to know, while I’m probably in the back eating my candy bars or worrying about my harness. The special mission aviator is the first one I look at when I feel something’s funny with the helicopter. There is a huge amount of trust placed on them, and I think that suits him very well.”

“I think being in pararescue suits his personality very well,” Jake said. “It’s certainly not a job I could do. It’s not for me, it’s not for everyone. Our personalities are quite different.”

It turns out their mother’s reaction to a helicopter overhead isn’t that unusual. The brothers do that, too, when they know the other is on alert.

“If I’m at home, and I hear a helicopter fly over my house during the weekend, and I know my brother’s on alert, I will say, ‘There goes Jake.’ If I go on a mission somewhere, I’m sure it’s the same for him.”

AF's First Female Fighter Pilot Continues to Break Stereotypes

FORT MEADE, Md. (AFNS) -- After Col. Jeannie Leavitt finished pilot training at the top of her class in 1992, she was given her first choice of aircraft, with a few restrictions. Her first choice, the F-15 Strike Eagle, wasn't yet an option for female pilots.

"I was told you finished No. 1, but you cannot pick a fighter," Leavitt said. "You cannot pick a bomber. You cannot pick a special ops aircraft. There was a whole list of aircraft I couldn't fly, and I was directed to choose among the other aircraft."

Fortunately for Leavitt and all female Airmen with similar aspirations, the following year then-Defense Department Secretary Les Aspin ordered all service branches to drop restrictions on women flying combat missions. Leavitt became the Air Force's first female fighter pilot and later the service's first woman to graduate from the Air Force Weapons School at Nellis Air Force Base, Nev. Almost two decades later, she's been the nation's first female fighter wing commander since she assumed command of the 4th Fighter Wing at Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, N.C., in 2012.

While she recognizes her place in Air Force history, Leavitt prefers emphasizing her role as an officer and commander. When she learned she would be flying the F-15 while she was in the middle of T-38 Talon pilot instructor training at Randolph Air Force Base, Texas, Leavitt didn't care about publicity or the chance to make history. She just wanted to fly in fighters.

"When we first discussed it, the individual from headquarters I was talking to mentioned there would be a lot of publicity since I would be the first (woman)," she said. "What I told him was I didn't want the publicity, but I really want to fly fighters. The thing was, I wanted to be a fighter pilot. It was part of who I was and what I wanted to do. The notoriety and publicity wasn't what I wanted, but it came due to the timing."

Not everyone was happy about the defense secretary's decision, and Leavitt had to prove herself to those who questioned her abilities because of her gender.

"A lot of times people were resistant because it was change, and a lot of times people don't like change," she said. "Some people weren't in favor of the change that happened and didn't want women flying fighters. In many cases when I'd show up, once they saw I was competent, and I was a skilled pilot, and I wasn't trying to change their whole world, they became much more accepting of me."

Leavitt flew more than 2,500 hours in the F-15, including 300 combat hours, mostly in Afghanistan and Iraq. Maj. Gen. Lawrence L. Wells, 9th Air Force commander, flew the F-16 Fighting Falcon as an operations officer with Leavitt during Operation Southern Watch in 1996. 

He recalls surprise when he first saw her at a mass pre-mission briefing because he didn't know any women were deployed in the area of responsibility at that time. But the surprise soon turned into admiration as he observed Leavitt, especially during a mission supporting a Royal Air Force Tornado GR1 during a threat of an Iraqi Roland surface-to-air missile. He could sense her professionalism and skill as he listened to tapes of her radio calls during the de-briefing after the mission.

"I remember thinking how cool and calm she sounded during the entire time," Wells said. "It was all just a very professional, well-run response to a potential threat, and I remember thinking at that time, 'This female fighter pilot is going to go far in our Air Force.'"

He also described the young F-15 pilot as "a great wingman," a trait he thinks will serve her well as a commander.

"We value in our young officers the ability to be in the right place at the right time," Wells said. "That's what a real wingman does. At the time, she was a great wingman, which in my view, makes her a better leader. Because you really have to know how to follow before you can lead. You have to understand what Airmen are thinking and how your Airmen are dealing with issues and what your young Airmen are focused on. Now having been a great wingman, she can be a great commander."

When Wells introduced Leavitt at her change of command ceremony at Seymour Johnson AFB in June, he chose his words carefully. Despite the historical significance of her career, Leavitt prefers recognition as an Air Force officer and commander. Wells chose remarks that would strike the same tone.

"I had some very specific things I wanted to say about her, and how I had seen her, not only in combat during Southern Watch, but also from kind of following her career," Wells said. "What I did not want to do in my speech was to highlight the fact that she was the first female commander. I was very sensitive to say the Air Force actually picked the right person to be in the right job at the right time, which I think speaks more for her as a professional Air Force officer, who, oh, by the way, just happens to be a female." 

Leavitt now commands one of only three Air Force units with the Strike Eagle, along with 5,000 active-duty members and 12,000 civilians. Looking back on the progress women have made in her 20 years in the Air Force, the biggest difference she's seen is women in fighter squadrons are no longer unusual as she was in 1993.

"One thing that's changed is women are no longer a novelty," Leavitt said. "When I started flying fighters in 1993, there were no other women. So there were no female instructor pilots, no flight commanders and no squadron commanders. So it was quite a novelty to have a female in the fighter squadron. The good news is this opportunity opened up, and quite a few women followed in my path."

Area Professor and Writer Falls in Love With His Characters

So you want to write that best-seller, believing that all a novelist needs is a word processor, a thesaurus - and "that little book inside" yourself that everyone supposedly has.
Dr. Russell Ramsey will quickly set you straight. It isn't that easy.
"Writing is similar to boxing," said the silver-haired but still fighting trim national security affairs professor at Air Command and Staff College at Maxwell Air Force Base. "Both are tough professions with very few at the top of the fight game or the literary world. Less than 100 make much money. Most people who box or write get their brains knocked out and earn practically nothing. The reality is that most boxers and writers need to have another source of income."
Ramsey's weekends are spent in his Albany, Ga., home with his wife Roberta, who works as an assistant to the vice president for academic affairs at Albany State College. During the week, a trailer outside Maxwell's Day Street serves as Ramsey's home and fortress of concentration for three hours of nightly head banging and writing.
But cry no tears for this writer. His passion for the written word has continued to grow since he peddled his first work to families of World War II troops as a 9-year-old boy in Sandusky, Ohio. After graduating from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point in 1957 with a bachelor's in science and engineering, Ramsey wrote books on military subjects. In 1969, after a paratrooping accident and a tour of duty in Vietnam, Ramsey retired from the Army and has since found literary success with his sports articles and in the fickle arena of the paperback novel.
Though far from approaching the best-seller lists, Ramsey's story of a female Olympic swimmer fared well enough to justify two sequels.
"I developed a special love for this character," he said. "I don't think you can create a fictional figure, work with her for any length of time and not fall in love. My character, Angela Weber, became a daughter figure to me when she won the gold medal at the 1936 Olympics in Berlin in the first book, A Lady, A Champion. In A Lady, A Healer, Angela - now a middle-aged lady - became the counterpart to my wife, and transformed into both a world leader and a queenly figure in A Lady, A Peacemaker."
He didn't develop his character through mere daydreaming or divine inspiration. Ramsey did a complete character from the women swimmers he interviewed for articles published in Swimming World. One of these athletes, Marjorie Gestring, who won the diving medal at the 1936 Olympics, went further in telling her story than the writer dared to hope.
"This American swimmer became the youngest Olympic champion every at age 13, but failed to qualify for the 1948 games," Ramsey said. "Reporters slammed microphones in her face, asking how it felt to be around young girls who weren't even around when she won her first gold in 1936. She simply answered, 'They beat me.' Forty years later, when I interviewed her, she told me what really happened. She'd broken her back falling from a 48-foot wooden tower while entertaining soldiers."
This wasn't the only time when Ramsey's careful prodding uncovered a story within a story. After seeing "Chariots of Fire" in 1983, he became fascinated with Eric Liddell, the Scottish runner who refused to compete on Sundays for religious reasons in the 1924 Olympics in Paris.
But before he could begin, Ramsey had to recover from neck surgery that resulted from his paratrooping accident. Then, he was ready to dig.
"My vocal cords were damaged after the surgery, but I miraculously got my voice back three months later. I began asking myself lots of questions.
"Then I found this incredible man who was an Olympic champion but refused to compromise his beliefs. He gave it all up to become a missionary in China. When the war began, he could have left the country, but he sent his wife and children home and entered a prisoner-of-war camp where he died of a brain tumor. Everyone I talked to in his homeland, Scotland, told me there was more to his story than the movie told."
The result was God's Joyful Runner, one of many sports pieces Ramsey has published. His latest, Circles and Wings, is featured in the May issue of Airman magazine. Circles and Wings is a detailed history of military members in the Olympics.
Teamwork between the writer and a heavyweight boxing champion resulted in The Gentle Giant, a story about George Foreman that appeared in Amateur Boxer. Ramsey met the still active fighter while working with the Job Corps in Oregon.
"Foreman was a tough, street-wise kid who was hauled into juvenile court and forced to go to jail or the Job Corps," Ramsey said. "A boxing trainer saw that he was super fast and a terrific slugger and added him to his team. Foreman practically knocked every opponent out of the ring and went on to win the gold medal in the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City. But what impressed me the most was what he did after receiving his medal. While two other black athletes raised their fists in protest, Foreman paraded around the ring with an American flag."
Ramsey's interest in sports writing is no accident. He's an avid runner and swimmer, ranked nationally in his age group. He's recently been named the Air University nominee for the National Fitness Award and teaches an elective fitness elective at ACSC.
The setting for Ramsey's next project is slated to be behind the Iron Curtain. The story deals with Olympic stars in the Soviet Union. The Russian Embassy has arranged for Ramsey to co-write the book with a leading Soviet journalist who covered all the Olympic games since 1952.
"What I really like about this venture is that I'll be in a position to verify that they're telling the truth," Ramsey said. "I'll see the training centers and the athletes and can cross-check with the European and South African press who have covered the events these athletes have competed in.
"I believe the United States and Soviet Union have to find qualities they can respect in each other. I also believe the Russians are closer to the Greek ideal of athletics than we are. When a gymnast, swimmer or boxer succeeds in the Soviet Union, he's made into a role model for the entire country."
Ramsey tries to make his subjects come alive in his work, from the George Foremans to the Eric Liddelels.
"Practically everything I write is centered around a major character, someone who has done something. I try to focus on what makes that person special."