In June 1995, Air Force Captain Scott O’Grady was helping enforce the NATO no-fly zone over Bosnia when the F-16 Fighter he was flying in was shot down by an anti-aircraft missile. He ejected and parachuted to the ground in hostile territory. For six days he evaded Bosnian-Serbs seeking to hunt him down. He recounted his story in the book Return With Honor.
Here are excerpts from his account:
“…I’d lost count of the prayers I’d recited since my plane was hit. I’d prayed that I would survive the missile’s impact and the flames that had enveloped me; that the bubble canopy would release, allowing a safe ejection; that my seat would function and send up a working chute.
I’d been delivered all I’d asked for, and now I asking for more. Dear God, let me land in a safe place without harm.
And down on the menacing highway [below]… they sat there waiting for me, watching and waiting for their package to arrive.
As I kept getting blown southeast, my first hurdle was to clear the highway and the cultivated land to its north and west. I made it with a stone’s throw of altitude to spare.
My landing was textbook, if heavy… the ground was damp and hard and I knew I was in a footrace—I had to make cover before my watchers reached the clearing. Having charted my course from the air, I’d be moving south and away—from the road, from the people, towards the woods.
I bolted along the grass and out of the clearing. My path rounded a bend, into a maze of offshoots and turn-backs, around clumps of low bushes and short, skinny trees. I’d thought I could run a marathon, that my flight-or-fight juice would carry me forever, but after thirty seconds I was sucking air. My legs were lead pipes; this whole impossible afternoon had suddenly caved in on me, and my body broke down. I knew I’d be making my tracker’s job that much easier, but I had to stop.
I bailed off to the right, into a stand of those Aspen-like trees about ten feet square. I dove into the heart of it. The vegetation wasn’t as dense as I’d hoped for, with no undergrowth to speak of, but I wasn’t feeling choosy. I lay on my side, in a semi-fetal position, and propped myself behind a small tree root. The dirt was dark, almost black. Drenched with the sweat of fear and exertion, I could hear vehicles near the point where I’d ditched my parachute—one, two, three of them. The last one rumbled to a stop with the unmistakable, grinding groan of a truck.
…the grass rustled with footsteps, coming my way. Coming with the careless noise of men who know their prey is cornered.
I burrowed my face into the dirt, but the tree root made poor cover. With no time to apply any camouflage paint, I pasted my green synthetic flight gloves over my face and ears, and I froze, barely breathing, willing myself into invisibility.
Not five minutes later came the first ones, striding down the grassy path, speaking some Slavic tongue. I snuck a peek; two men… they were four yards off and closing.
My face pitched back into the dirt. My heart was thumping in my ears. They came louder with each step. I thought they were sure to see me—how could they miss? –and I knew they had heavy reinforcements.
…I remembered a story I’d heard from my survival instructor four years before. During a nighttime evasion exercise, he said, he was sitting on the ground when one of the ‘enemy’ came up and bumped into him. But my instructor stayed still as a post, never murmured a sound—and the other guy walked off, figuring he’d bounced off a tree stump.
‘Just don’t move,’ my instructor told me. ‘Don’t assume they see you just because you see them.’
I held my breath; I imagined myself blending into the dirt. I wouldn’t do their work for them. If they wanted me, they’d have to grab me. They’d have to physically peel me from the ground.
The two men walked to the very edge of my hiding spot, five feet from my burrowed head, and kept going straight down the path, without a hitch in stride or conversation. I don’t know why they missed me—can’t explain it, except that God veiled me from them.
…Minutes after the first two men passed me by, I heard new stirrings in the vicinity, male voices to both east and west: I was surrounded. Keeping my head down, I looked out as best I could. From my worm’s-eye view through the low hanging branches, I caught intermittent glimpses of backs and legs. They were hiking in groups of two and three, poking about the brush, calling out to one another. At times they were no more than 10 feet away from me… I heard about half a dozen rifle shots that first afternoon and men passing about me for the better part of two hours. The miracle is that none of them spotted me.”
Note that it was daylight when all this happened. Imagine keeping your head and following your training under such duress.
Throughout the book, Captain O’Grady demonstrates perseverance using the tremendous survival skills that he learned in his military training. He made this statement about it:
“…the core component of defense—even more valuable than hardware or technology—is training.”
Without extensive training and experience, things might have turned out very differently for him.
In the Bible, the book of James begins with a similar statement about training:
“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”
Perseverance through trials is God’s training to develop spiritual maturity. Perseverance also proves that our faith is genuine. It honors God.
Peter wrote:
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade–kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith–of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire–may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” 1 Peter 1:3-7
And:
“Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed.” 1 Peter 4:12-13
I’ve never been one to believe we will spend the after-life on clouds playing harps. I believe those born of Christ have an eternity of discovery and growth ahead. We were made to engage and be engaged by God. That’s powerful. I consider this present life to be boot camp.
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