Inspired by cannibals

  • Published
  • By Staff Sgt. Vanessa Young
  • Defense Media Activity-San Antonio
In October, I went to cover a story at the 309th Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group facility on Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, Ariz. Thousands of retired Air Force, Navy and coalition aircraft are retired at this "bone yard." Pilots used these aircraft to shoot down MiGs in the Vietnam War, patrol New York City after 9/11 and transport servicemembers home from Operation Iraqi Freedom. I was impressed by the history parked in this desert facility.

Then I met the maintainers who worked there, and I was in awe.

These maintainers don't perform typical aircraft maintenance. These maintainers tear these "old birds" apart and cannibalize their parts so they can be reused in the active fleet. On any given day they could cut the wings off of an F-15 Eagle, remove avionics from a C-130 Hercules or pull the wheels from an A-10 Thunderbolt II; all in an effort to regenerate the Air Force inventory.

Aircraft maintenance on a typical flightline is labor intensive and at times dangerous. These mechanics don't work on a typical flightline. There are no hangars to shield them from the 110 degree desert heat. The facilities' fences don't keep out the rattlesnakes, scorpions and other animals common to a desert climate. And since parts are constantly being removed, when they enter an aircraft they have to be extra vigilant for missing floor panels, protruding wires and decrepit components that could fall off the aircraft.

None of these maintainers are active-duty military; however, most of them are former Air Force or Navy aircraft maintainers. I spoke with a few of the maintainers who have been turning wrenches since the Vietnam War -- tearing apart the same aircraft they were charged with keeping in the air.

Why would these guys still want to do this after all of these years?

The bad economy? Possibly. But looking in their eyes and listening to them talk about the aircraft they work on, the challenges they face and the Airmen they help, I knew it was something more.

It's something more than overtime pay that makes them stay after hours or come in on the weekend to get a critical part to an Airman downrange. It's something more than the opportunity to work on aircraft that keeps them working under the extreme conditions of the Arizona desert.

The white overalls they wear today have replaced the battle uniforms of their day, but it is evident their commitment to the mission hasn't changed. Almost everyone I spoke with told me how proud they were to still be able to support Airmen, but played down the fact that they were, at times, as integral to keeping an aircraft in the air.

I expected to be impressed by the thousands of planes. I expected to be humbled by the history of the aircraft. I even expected to be completely dwarfed by disassembled C-5 Galaxies.

I didn't expect to be inspired by the dedication of these aircraft "cannibals."

My mission was to write about how the "bone yard" saved the Air Force money. I quickly realized this story was about more than a money-saving storage facility; it's the people who make this organization successful. For all the time they spend in the sun, these civilian Airmen deserve their time in the limelight.

To the men and women of the 309th Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group: thank you for your service.