We brothers knelt in a circle around our winding up Black Hawk taxis. It was fairly early evening, but fully cloaked in darkness by this hour. We faced in toward the choppers, as the rotor wash pushed hard against our chests and faces. I chuckled as I busted the men to my right and left, as they flared their bodies and leaned into the stiff wind, enjoying a mock free-fall experience. All the brothers did it, including myself; it was just too irresistible.
Through the chopper cargo compartment a red light circled several times. The boys slapped each other on the back or arms, indicating that it was load time. We piled into the mercilessly small cargo compartment, and fought to find a comfortable posture, for once the chopper was full, there would be no possibility of adjusting your position for the duration of the ride.
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