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From Lawn Darts To Hellfires: Childhood Chaos Meets Army Aviation (Jerry Binning)
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A quiet Midwestern start. A detour through tank trails. And a cockpit view of the night the Gulf War truly began. We sit down with Jerry Binning to chart the improbable arc from Charlotte, Michigan to Fort Hood’s heat, Fort Rucker’s flight lines, and the Apache missions that punched a hole through Iraq’s radar on Day One. This isn’t a highlight reel—it’s the texture of real service: lost orders and last‑minute saves, heat so fierce tools burn skin, and the strange calm of learning to trust instruments when your senses insist they’re right.
Jerry takes us inside the grind of basic at Fort Knox, the hard lessons of testing the XM1 Abrams, and the abrupt pivot to aviation when a sergeant helped salvage a flight school packet that was about to vanish into bureaucracy. He remembers the bug‑eyed TH‑55 and the elegant brutality of Huey instrument training, including a startling brush with flicker vertigo. We talk the thrill of the OH‑58 scout, the muscle of the Cobra, and the tech leap of the Apache—plus the logistics job no one glamorizes but everyone depends on: loading C‑5s, building pallets, and making sure an entire unit can move on time.
When the Gulf crisis hit, Jerry’s unit locked down and deployed into Saudi heat that felt like stepping into a blast furnace. He trained for Mission “Normandy,” the low‑level strike that took out radar sites and opened the door for the air campaign over Baghdad. He also shares the kind of incident veterans never forget: a misbehaving “hangar queen,” an unexpected Hellfire launch, and the string of miracles that kept crews unharmed as the missile zig‑zagged to an ammo depot. From there, it’s the long road home, a difficult personal chapter, a few years flying Blackhawks in the Reserves, and the quieter duty of returning to Michigan for aging parents.
If you’re curious about Army aviation, the reality behind “dog and pony shows,” or how leadership is forged under heat, pressure, and uncertainty, Jerry’s story delivers rare detail and calm honesty. Stay for his closing advice to young people considering service: it’s not easy by design, and that’s where the growth lives. If this conversation moved you, follow the show, share it with a friend, and leave a review so more listeners can find these stories.
Support the show
www.veteransarchives.org
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By Bill KriegerSend us a text
A quiet Midwestern start. A detour through tank trails. And a cockpit view of the night the Gulf War truly began. We sit down with Jerry Binning to chart the improbable arc from Charlotte, Michigan to Fort Hood’s heat, Fort Rucker’s flight lines, and the Apache missions that punched a hole through Iraq’s radar on Day One. This isn’t a highlight reel—it’s the texture of real service: lost orders and last‑minute saves, heat so fierce tools burn skin, and the strange calm of learning to trust instruments when your senses insist they’re right.
Jerry takes us inside the grind of basic at Fort Knox, the hard lessons of testing the XM1 Abrams, and the abrupt pivot to aviation when a sergeant helped salvage a flight school packet that was about to vanish into bureaucracy. He remembers the bug‑eyed TH‑55 and the elegant brutality of Huey instrument training, including a startling brush with flicker vertigo. We talk the thrill of the OH‑58 scout, the muscle of the Cobra, and the tech leap of the Apache—plus the logistics job no one glamorizes but everyone depends on: loading C‑5s, building pallets, and making sure an entire unit can move on time.
When the Gulf crisis hit, Jerry’s unit locked down and deployed into Saudi heat that felt like stepping into a blast furnace. He trained for Mission “Normandy,” the low‑level strike that took out radar sites and opened the door for the air campaign over Baghdad. He also shares the kind of incident veterans never forget: a misbehaving “hangar queen,” an unexpected Hellfire launch, and the string of miracles that kept crews unharmed as the missile zig‑zagged to an ammo depot. From there, it’s the long road home, a difficult personal chapter, a few years flying Blackhawks in the Reserves, and the quieter duty of returning to Michigan for aging parents.
If you’re curious about Army aviation, the reality behind “dog and pony shows,” or how leadership is forged under heat, pressure, and uncertainty, Jerry’s story delivers rare detail and calm honesty. Stay for his closing advice to young people considering service: it’s not easy by design, and that’s where the growth lives. If this conversation moved you, follow the show, share it with a friend, and leave a review so more listeners can find these stories.
Support the show
www.veteransarchives.org