In 2006, I fell in love.

Beverly was a widow when I met her in the bar just outside the gates of Fort Campbell. My ten years in the Army had allowed me to experience many things, but until that night I had never experienced true love. I had had a few girlfriends in that time, but none I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I had just returned home from Afghanistan and had been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for rescuing a platoon from a Taliban siege. The platoon commander, a Lieutenant Kershaw, and the platoon sergeant, SFC Ken Gregory, were both killed by a sniper while making sure the rest of the platoon made it aboard my Chinook. I had gotten out of the pilot’s seat and helped the platoon medic drag their bodies aboard the chopper. In the process the sniper shot me in the leg, but with the help of the medic patching me up, my copilot Trey, and a ton of determination, I got those 40 men, my crew, and the Chinook safely back to base, the latter with few more bullet holes than it left with, where I promptly passed out before I could complete the shutdown checklist. Thankfully Trey was able to complete it by himself. By the time I woke up, I had been moved to Ramstein Air Base in Germany, to recover from my wound. I promptly recommended LT Kershaw, SFC Gregory, and CPL Finch (the medic) for the Medal of Honor. It was later approved for Kershaw and Gregory; Finch was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross instead. Trey was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, an honor I also received. But enough of that tangent.

Beverly Gregory was in the bar that night to work. When I ordered my drink (a mint julep), she saw my name on my uniform and the recently pinned on medal and said to me, “It’s on the house. Thank you for allowing me to bury my husband.”

Through the night, we talked. I found out she had 3 children. I found out she was an orphan, like myself. I found out she was an only child, unlike myself. And I fell madly in love with her. Over the next six months, as I trained new Chinook pilots, we got to know each other, I got to know her children, George, Alice and Paul. Her children got to know me. And when 6-year-old George and 3-year-old twins Alice and Paul started calling me “Daddy”, my heart melted. So, on the 4th of July in 2007, Beverly and I got married. On that day, I promised my new wife I would leave the Army. I promised myself I would continue flying helicopters. And I promised the children I would love and support them, no matter what.

It turned out George was going to need a lot of love and support.