Advanced Skills Training Prepares Airmen For Controlling Aircraft
Holding part of a stump over his head, 2nd Lt. Derek treads in 12
feet of water. The wooden anchor became part of the water polo champion's
training when instructors noticed he wasn't challenged by the water confidence
segment of advanced skills training.
SgtMacsBar note: 2nd Lt. Derek was promted to Captain and
his full name is Derek Argel.
The native of Lompoc, Calif., competed on the city's swim team, worked
as a lifeguard and was a star player on the Cabrillo High School water polo
team until his graduation in 1995.
Argel continued his water polo career at the U.S. Air Force Academy, from
which he graduated in 2001.
"They broke the mold when they made Derek Argel," Carolyn Gentry said
of the man "who was more like a son than a nephew" and had a boyhood dream
of joining the military.
Argel, a 28-year-old married father of one son, was killed May 30 2005
in the crash of an Iraqi air force surveillance plane during a mission northeast
of Baghdad. He was among four U.S. airmen and an Iraqi pilot who died in
the crash. The cause is under investigation.
Argel, assigned to the 23rd Special Tactics Squadron at Hurlburt Field,
Fla., had been promoted to captain on the morning of his death.
Gentry remembers a boy who loved swimming, baseball and soccer, and who,
along with her son, Clint Gentry Stremcha, 25, liked to romp through the
woods in search of snakes and other reptiles.
"He was very adventurous and outdoorsy," Gentry said. "They loved to be
out in nature and camp, and go out looking for critters and snakes."
Wendy Argel, 27, met her future husband at a bar in Destin, Fla., on St.
Patrick's Day 2002.
He was a 6-foot-6 standout, she said. "He was just gorgeous," Wendy Argel
said. "He was tan and tall. He was just everything I could imagine."
The couple were married Sept. 24, 2003, on Okaloosa Island in the Gulf
of Mexico. Their son, Logan, is 11 months old.
Wendy Argel said her husband, who had a penchant for 1980s music and the
"Rocky" movies, was happiest on the beach with his family — fishing,
surfing or tossing a ball for their two dogs, Daisy and Stuart.
Argel kept five fishing poles, two surfboards and a bodyboard in the garage
and looked forward to teaching his son, whom he called "Little Buddy," how
"He was such a big guy next to our son," his wife said. "He just towered
over him, but he was gentle. If he could help out [anyone] in any way, that's
what made a big smile on his face … or to catch a big fish."
"He was just a soldier by every means of the imagination," she said. "He
felt like God intended him to contribute this way. He just truly believed
in it with his core, and wanted to contribute."
In addition to his wife, son and aunt, Argel is survived by his mother,
Debra Bastian; and a brother, John.
A memorial service was held June 3 at Hurlburt Field, and the family held
a memorial service Friday at Lompoc Evergreen Cemetery.
On the edge of a glistening pool, under a cloudy Florida sky, 14 drenched
men stood ready to dive in. To an observer, the only differences between
them were their sizes and the names stenciled on the fronts of their white
It was the first week of advanced skills training at Hurlburt Field for
the Combat Controllers. They waited for the next command from the lead instructor
"Recover your mask and snorkel," the instructor barked.
Then the men plunged into the pool's 78-degree water.
Wet and wild
At Hurlburt, the trainees have already completed 35 weeks of training,
including Army airborne, survival, Combat Control and air traffic control
With just four weeks of prescuba sessions in the program, water confidence
is the goal.
Students are divided into seven "buddy" teams - clutching each other's
shoulders - never farther than an arm's length apart. Although it's a little
odd to see men scurrying around holding onto each other, it serves a purpose.
The concept is to condition them to stay close, as an instinctual response
and diving safety precaution.
And safety measures aren't just stressed underwater. Students are told
not to touch the sides of the pool and must announce when they step over
Although they're seemingly trivial safety tips, the idea is that paying
attention to surroundings can mean the difference between life and death
in a combat situation.
The grimaces confirm the level of pain. No matter how strenuous, to some
students the physical exercises aren't as difficult as other aspects of the
"Keeping mentally focused and learning to work in unison is the hardest
part," said 2nd Lt. Derek,
an academy graduate and water polo champion the instructors call "Mr.
Water Polo." "Because if you bring personal burdens to the pool it affects
To slow him down, the phase one lieutenant totes a large tree stump throughout
the course. The ritual started more than eight months earlier at Keesler
Air Force Base, Miss., when Combat Control proctors realized he wasn't being
"Even those who are strong and can run well are tested in the water,"
said instructor Tech. Sgt. Calvin. "It's physically challenging even if they
feel comfortable in the pool."
Master Sgt. Art, an instructor and 17-year Combat Control veteran, agreed
and believes the water is an equalizer regardless of skill level.
"Getting acclimated to the water is key," Derek said. "But right from
the get-go you're getting kicked, and you're forced to work as a team."
Grooming Combat Controllers extends beyond the waterlogged bodies at the
pool. It's about taking a group of men and forming a disciplined team. Throughout
their careers, with less than 500 officers and enlisted men assigned to the
specialty, it's likely they'll work together at some point. So teamwork must
be second nature.
"Buddy breathing" teaches team members to rely on each other in
life-threatening situations. Thrashing instructors simulate the hazards of
combat by trying to disorient, distract and even wrangle masks or the snorkel
from a "buddy" team. During the simulation, the students focus on sharing
the breathing tube without losing composure or breaking the surface to take
For the instructors, the reward comes when they see a group transition
into a team.
"We all have the same goals, and that makes it easy to help each other,"
Derek said. "Everyone is intent on getting everyone through this course."
Another activity sends students sinking to the bottom of the pool, hands
and feet tied together, performing somersaults in the water and retrieving
a dive mask from the bottom of the aquatic abyss. The series of threatening
exercises is called "drownproofing" and is designed to build confidence in
But there's more to this phase than diving into the 12-foot pool. Trainees
also learn about decompression, dive tables and physics.
"They're constantly under stress, and we see how well they perform," said
Tech. Sgt. Greg, noncommissioned officer in charge of prescuba. "In the end,
we have good results."
The number of Air Force honor graduates at the next step - Combat Diver
Qualification Course in Key West, Fla. - has risen dramatically with airmen
named eight of the last 14 honor grads. And in a joint school where the washout
rate for airmen was once 10 percent, no one has failed since before 1996.
Greg recalled one airman, in the second class, had an especially difficult
time and "washed back" but eventually went home as an honor graduate in his
class of 60 at the Key West course.
"When you see a guy struggle through the program and later you see him
proudly wearing a 'scuba bubble' on his chest, that's when being an instructor
is most rewarding," he said.
"The way we're training now, the guys have a better idea of what they're
getting into than before," he said. "We've developed a smarter way to train
with the same 'gut check.' "
For students like 25-year-old Staff Sgt. Don, that made all the difference.
He's seen both training pipelines. When he joined the Air Force in 1995,
he was focused on special operations. But the water was his enemy. He failed
scuba school on a weight belt swim and was assigned as a crew missile
"I liked being a maintainer, but I knew I wanted to be a special operator,"
So he dedicated himself to another chance and started again in June 2001
with the two-week long orientation course at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas.
For Don, although facing water confidence again was intimidating, the improved
prescuba phase had him leaving the pool confident that whatever the tide
brought on, he could handle it.
Having these expert veterans here to teach us and share all this knowledge
with us is awesome," he said.
After the water phase, the team is taught and tested on working together
to get the job done in the small unit tactics phase. Not only do they hone
their basic skills, learned in the first six months, they get more in-depth
equipment knowledge. They're also challenged with realistic situations like
having to program a radio in the dark.
Tech. Sgt. Tim (left), Senior Airman Joseph (center) and Airman 1st
Class Jared practice small unit tactics as part of phase two of advanced
Employment is phase three and teaches the primary ways special operations
forces get to work. That includes parachuting - both static line and free
fall, scuba diving, land navigation, vehicle and boat.
After they become static-line parachutists, sporting more than 100 pounds
of gear on their backs when they hit the ground running, students jump into
a more demanding and dangerous skill. The highlight of the phase for most
students is military free-fall parachuting. At a four-week course taught
at Fort Bragg, N.C., and Yuma Proving Ground, Ariz., students learn how to
infiltrate and avoid detection.
The first week of training - called ground week - sends them to Fort Bragg
where they become familiar with freefall stabilization in a wind tunnel.
They're also taught basic aircraft procedures and altitude physiology.
Then they head for Yuma's desert environmental test facility where they
learn the intricacies of high-altitude, low-opening missions. "High altitude"
refers to being up to 18,000 feet above the ground as they exit the aircraft.
"Low-opening" means students freefall until they deploy their chutes at about
3,500 feet. During high-altitude, high-opening missions both exit and deployment
altitudes are high, and a special parachute lets them maneuver more than
50 miles as they quietly float into an area.
By the time they graduate, each airman is issued between $12,000 and $15,000
in equipment that goes with them to their first assignment. They get boots,
body armor, dive suits, extreme cold weather gear, helmets, load-bearing
vests and protective equipment.
The training and equipment get put to the test during the last few months
of training when the students use all of their newly-acquired skills in a
"We've had them secure the NCO club during Sunday brunch," Calvin said.
"And people didn't even know what was going on."
The premise of the program is "warriors training warriors." The instructors
train with high expectations of the students. The idea is that some day these
airmen will have to be there for their buddies, so it's essential that they
know the ropes.
"I sweat with these guys; I bleed with these guys," Calvin said. "They're
the ones willing to die for you. It builds a bond stronger than the one you
had with your friends back home."
There's no easy way to prepare someone to fearlessly advance into harm's
way. It takes a mindset most people can't fathom. But for those with the
aptitude and attitude, advanced skills training equips tomorrow's Combat Controllers.
"The students we've graduated are at about the same level as I was my
fourth or fifth year on the team," Greg said. "They're already ahead of some
of the guys who've been on teams for more than two years."
5/31/2005 - BAGHDAD, Iraq (AFPN) -- Four U.S. Airmen and one Iraqi
airman were killed May 30 when an Iraqi air force Comp Air 7SL aircraft crashed
in eastern Diyala province during an operational
The aircraft belonged to Iraqi’s 3rd Squadron and is a single engine
high-winged aircraft used for surveillance and movement of people. The Iraqi
air force had seven of these aircraft in its inventory.
The crash happened near Jalula which is about 50 miles northeast of
Ba’qubah. The aircraft left Kirkuk Air Base at about 10 a.m. on a mission
Maj. William Downs, 40, of Winchester, Va., was a pilot assigned to
the 6th Special Operations Squadron.
Capt. Jeremy Fresques, 26, of Clarkdale, Ariz., was a Combat Controller
assigned to the 23rd STS
Capt. Derek Argel, 28, of Lompoc, Calif., was a Combat Controller assigned
to the 23rd STS.
Staff Sgt. Casey Crate, 26, of Spanaway, Wash., was a Combat Controller
assigned to the 23rd STS.