We don’t know what caused the DC helicopter crash. Quit disgracing the victims | Opinion

I am so angry right now, I should step away from the keyboard — but I hope to God someone who sat in the same seat I did would stand up for me if I were lying in the harbor of the Potomac River after being slandered by every armchair pilot on the internet after the horrific midair collision ash between an Army helicopter and a commercial airplane that had departed from Kansas last month in Washington, D.C.

In a UH-60, commonly known as a Black Hawk helicopter, even with an excellent crew, things can and do go wrong. This is the nature of aviation, particularly rotary wing aviation. And this is why those online critics tend to relegate themselves to basements to make ignorant comments on the web and do not pursue careers in Army aviation.

Here’s what we know right now about this horrific tragedy:

• On Jan. 29, the families of 67 people experienced a nightmare.
• We know that something, likely lots of somethings, went wrong.
• We know that two Army pilots and one crew chief who adored the UH60 — and who chose to serve their country — gave their lives while serving.
• If it turns out that this tragedy was solely caused by human error in the operation of the UH60, the fault is not on the shoulders of any one person on that crew.

A few days after the midair collision, the Department of Defense released the names of the crew: Chief Warrant Officer Andrew Eaves, Capt. Rebecca Lobach and Sgt. Ryan O’Hara. Capt. Lobach was a woman. Women have been flying Army aircraft for more than 50 years. However, the volume of irrelevant attention to this fact is obscene. People are smearing the memory of a veteran who died while serving her country based on her gender and a host of misconceptions about how helicopters and their crews operate.

Capt. Lobach’s family sees these horrific comments, which will be seared into their minds at the same time they are trying to contemplate and mourn the loss of their daughter, wife and sister. I think about my fiancé or my parents in that position, and I see red.

Here’s some specific information about the helicopter: UH-60s are a dual-control two-pilot aircraft. For you non-aviation people, that means that we cannot fly legally without two pilots at the controls and both pilots having a full set of controls. Why, you ask? Well, the 60 is a complex helicopter with systems that require constant monitoring and pilot input. I won’t get into the weeds, but there are dozens of internal tasks to do on a constant basis while you are also flying the aircraft. Those tasks keep the helicopter functioning, keep the fuel in check and keep everyone on board alive. These beautiful beasts require two pilots because its just too much work for one person to execute safely.

Air traffic, gusty winds, loud radios

Flying while using night vision devices is the most difficult mode of flight for Army aviators. It takes hundreds of hours to get comfortable with them. Add flying in a highly populated or brightly lit area, and you have a whole host of fun issues (Seoul anyone?). Bright light washes out your goggles like an old TV screen with white static while wearing night vision goggles (at least on the versions I last used) and your dark-adapted eyes actually take 15 minutes or so to recover. Add heavy air traffic, gusty winds, water below, lights everywhere, radios (three to six of them, depending on where you are) just to name a few, and the stressors — and the risks — just keep adding up. I need to add here that when there’s too many lights for night vision goggles to be helpful, pilots usually flip them up and fly “night unaided.” It’s unclear how this crew was flying when disaster struck.

Side issue: All of you screeching, “Why didn’t the pilots just turn? It must have been intentional!” just need to stop. Human factors in aviation — including visual illusions such as fixation and confusion with ground lights — can and do get pilots into dangerous situations often. Google it. We train in challenging environments to force our brains to override these illusions, which can be counterintuitive, but they do still occur and likely contributed here. The fact that you don’t understand the situation doesn’t mean you have any idea what its like to be in a busy cockpit. You likely have experienced visual illusions that wreak havoc on your senses, but you’ve never had to deal with them in 4D with an enormous fan spinning above your head. Regardless of any crew member’s political leanings, its highly unlikely that one person could conspire and commandeer the aircraft to further a suicide wish, and even more unlikely the entire crew decided to murder 60-plus people and themselves. Just stop.

Crew members offer crucial help

We also fly with a crew. At minimum, a single crew chief (in other words, pilot’s heroes — the maintainers who keep us alive), multiple crew chiefs, or a crew chief and door gunner (on deployments). Among their hundreds of responsibilities, crew chiefs provide 360-degree visual callouts for the pilots up front. The guys and gals in the back are absolutely essential for a multitude of reasons and save our lives (I’m not being dramatic) regularly. Pilots have a limited field of vision and no rearview mirrors. Crew chiefs are always moving, always monitoring and backing us up — and they also tackle general officers and anyone else who tries to walk into tail rotors or do other things that might get someone killed.

Crucially, crew chiefs keep us honest by monitoring our instruments. Imagine flying on zero illumination nights in Afghanistan with no ambient light when the landscape below you is black to the point that you cannot see the mountains you know are there — not even a shadow. Your senses play tricks on you and, “Ma’am, you’re in a descent,” can and often does mean the difference between life and death.

I’m writing this because the families and friends of every crew member and passenger on both aircraft see the comments online casting blame, and they do nothing but create division. I didn’t know these UH-60 crew members, but they’re part of the small family of Army aviation, and their losses cut deep within my community. I also know each of us voluntarily raised our hands to serve this country and every American citizen. By excoriating the character of any of them, you’re dishonoring the names of patriots doing an extremely difficult job you clearly know nothing about.

Can we please — at this time of national shock and horror — wait until the accident report reveals the real causes of the crash? And most important, can we rally around the families of the fallen pilots, crews and passengers, lift them up in prayer and stop disgracing the names and legacies of everyone involved? Please.