Javier Davila

4693
USAFX
KOMODO 28A

Talon Eagle

All up until, I caught my face paint palette and was more than excited to cover my face in
paint, I was more than ecstatic to hide. Me and my partner had planned to try and get as close to
enemy base as possible and plant our hole-up shelter there as it would be unexpected. As we
trekked our way along a small trail, we spotted an Op 4 officer overseeing all land at a vantage
point. We quickly move to cover and find a hole-up shelter under 2 washed up trees, diagonal
from each other, with moist sand as our mattress and mesquite branches as our covers.
My intent from the first time of hearing this was to dig myself up. I had no intention of
being captured, so I started to dig in my hole-up site. I use what I can to dig: my hands, tree
branches, rocks. Ultimately, I found out that when digging my hole-up shelter, being a 6 foot and
180 pound male had its disadvantages as digging my grave soon became tiring. 2 hours into
digging my grave and I finally fit into it. I apply my face paint all over my face, with the
determination of being one with the mesquite tree. I lay down in my grave, pull all the dirt I had
dug up towards me and then tree branches. My hole-up sight was complete.
I would frequently communicate to my partner to was approximately 20 feet away, asking
him how his hole-up shelter was coming along and double checking when our next move would
be. We would take turns being alert on communications while the other got shut eye. We had
failed to use our call signs for the operation and instead used our usual call signs to communicate
through the radio.
After a few hours of moving back and forth within our hole-up site, getting intense
shivers due to the cold dirt covering us, and constantly seeing cub scouts patrol the area under
Op 4s bribe, one finally caught my partner. Unfortunately, the cub was too deep into Op 4s
bribery to be bribe by us, so we abort our hole-up site and go back to our starting point. Great.
We find other pilots and their shelter and team up with them. Right before sunset, we choose to
all leave our hole-up site and proceed towards the rescue point. We move along the boundary to
hopefully not get captured, which led to us getting captured. All but one pilot (out of the 4) was
laying down on his stomach as the Op 4 called in his calvary because the pilot decided to run
from the group.
Before this operation started, I had boasted on how I was not afraid of this operation.
When staff would ask: Who is scared?, my hand would continue to stay at attention and not
rise. I was bound to get captured as I had put the spotlight on me for the operation.
After escaping early in the operation from Op 4, I hid directly behind the enemy strong
point for a few hours. I would silhouette behind rocks and tree stumps as Op 4 was continuously
searching for me. As I had heard the orders from the Op 4 leader yell at every Op 4 officer to
search for me, I would sit behind a mesquite tree and between two boulders eating my strawberry
jam.
Time passed on and as more pilots were captured, I would throw rocks at them from my
clandestine hole-up site, to get their attention and give them the green light to flee once an Op 4
officer was not looking. I remember this part of my operation as to physically reciting the 3rd
Article of the Code of Conduct. As I see the pilots (including my co-pilot) of which had gotten
captured with with me escape, I catch my co-pilot's attention and he comes over to my hole-up
site. When he gets to my hole-up site, I question where his boots are and how the rest of the
operation was while being captured. He responded They have my boots and it was a blur. At
the sound of blur, I was intrigued on finishing the operation as a POW. So with calculating 26
minutes, long enough for the operation but short enough to guarantee my safety, I knock on the
Op 4s door and finish the POW operation.
The very next morning I would wake up to find out that the time (that was relayed to me)
in which the Cadets and I were to meet up with staff was false. The outcome of that was a very
rocky and awakening morning. After being smoked, we had gotten instructions on what our next
operation was, which was the Olympic Survivals. To begin, I believed that this operation was
mainly about time and not about how my times I would be shot. As expected, I failed considering
2 confirmed shots would have someone dead and the amount of confirmed shots on me were
always in the double digits.
My favorite part about the Survival Olympics was getting shot countless times. When
running with a M1911 pistol as Op 4 tried to shoot me down, really gave me an idea of how (in a
real world situation) dead I would be. The penultimate and final phase were also my favorite.
The penultimate phase had us run, shoot, and stay weary of Op 4. The final phase was when one
would have to run with 2.5 gallons of water, use their first aid knowledge to aid a downed
airman, and start a fire. I was really impressed by how fast I started my fire. Little did my
teammate know that I had practiced starting campfires in my backyard when I would have
company over.
To conclude, Talon Eagle was a great experience that I would not mind going through
again. It taught me much about living on my own or relying on my co-pilot. By relying on each
other, we had taught each other much about teamwork when trying to survive.