Jordan Shostak, My Life-or-Death Experience

My Life-or-Death Experience

by Jordan Shostak

I could not hold my breath any longer, and I was panicking while stuck in my seat with straps wrapping around me tightly. The straps went from both shoulders and hips, up between my legs, all connecting in an x shaped fashion. In the middle of it all was a single airplane-style release latch holding it together. The helicopter had just finished rolling at least twice underneath the water. We were completely submerged and could not tell which way was up or down. All I knew was that I had to make it out before I ran out of air. Life is full of obstacles, and you never know when you could end up in a life-or-death situation like this one. If you want to survive in this world, you need to have the ability to remain calm and problem-solve in even the most difficult of situations. The first step to my escape was to let go of the M16A4 service rifle I had been holding between my legs. I was waiting for us to finish rolling so it did not clock someone in the face as it floated around the cabin. It went straight up clunking into the ceiling of the helicopter. I had been holding my breath this entire time when I suddenly remembered my air tank was strapped to my right hip. The tube connecting to the mouthpiece should be right in the middle of my chest. Before getting into the helicopter, it was purposely run up underneath my life vest. If I had not done this, it would have floated away from me making it harder to find while blinded by the water. It was dark and my eyes were closed to prevent the water, along with the fuel that was inevitably leaking, from making them sting and distracting me from the task at hand. I reached my hand to my chest and in front of my face, feeling around for the mouthpiece. I could not find it; it was not where it was supposed to be. Then I realized the rifle I had just let go of went up, and since steel and aluminum do not float, this meant I was currently upside down. My mouthpiece was mostly polymer and rubber and was designed to float. It must be lower than where I thought it originally was. I felt from my chest downward toward my stomach and found the tube. Sliding my fingers to the end of it, I found the mouthpiece. I grabbed it and placed it in my mouth, biting firmly on it to keep it in place. Unfortunately, it was full of water, and I did not have any air left in my lungs to blow the water out so I could breathe from it. Luckily, I remembered there was a purge button on the back of it for this very reason. I pressed for a short moment, letting air bubbles rush down my chest on the way out. I took a very slow and cautious breath as there might be some water still left between my lungs and my two-minute supply of air. I was right in doing so as I got a nice spurt of water straight into my mouth. I blew it back out through the one-way valve and could finally breathe (somewhat) normally. Now onto the next step of many more before I could see the sky again. The next thing I needed to do was get the twenty pounds of gear off my body, so I did not sink along with the rest of the wreck. Before we had taken off, I had un-clipped one of the straps of my plate carrier, as well as the Velcro cummerbund holding the bottom half together around my waist. This was done in case I had to get it off in a hurry such as this very moment. I reached to my left shoulder and felt for the polymer buckle holding my other shoulder strap together and squeezed the release tabs together. I then reached down between my legs and grabbed onto the edge of my seat to hold me in place, as I pulled the release latch holding me trapped underneath this mess of straps. I maneuvered each arm out of the floating straps while the other held tightly onto the side of my seat.

Finally, I was free, but now I had to find my escape route. I knew there was a window to my right which I could push out and swim through, but first I had to spin around in my chair and face it. I reached my right arm down to the right side of my chair. I traced up to the back of it, grabbed onto it as I moved my other hand to the right edge of the chair allowing me to twist myself around so that my knees were on top of where I was sitting. I reached out my left arm from the top corner of the chair and felt the window frame in front of me. I found the corner of the window (where it was weakest) and locked out my elbow, put my full weight behind my palm, and popped the window out of the hull. I immediately grabbed the window frame and let go of the seat, making sure to grab both sides of my newly opened escape hatch. The bubbles from my mouthpiece were still going down, so I knew I was upside down: meaning I would have to swim down once I cleared the window. I pulled myself through the hole and swam what felt like the wrong way from the sinking chopper until my head breached the surface and I spit out the mouthpiece. I shook the water out of my eyes as I started treading water. As I finally opened my eyes, I saw one of the safety divers in front of me, who was following my progress and made sure I remembered to exhale as I swam up to the surface to prevent the bends. He told me I passed the exercise. I swam to the edge of the pool, hopped up over the side, and stood up on the edge of the pool. I immediately took off my helmet, life jacket, and removed the air tank out of the nylon holder it was strapped into, as I waited in line with the rest of my Marines to turn in our gear. My chlorine water-soaked uniform was dripping, and my combat boots were leaking with each step as I walked up to the instructors. I handed the life jacket and air tank to be refilled for the next poor soul who had to endure the “helo dunker” underwater egress training. I never want to experience something as terrible as that training exercise again, but it effectively prepared me for my deployment, and I feel much more prepared to survive a real life-or-death situation should I ever have to face one. I have since solved many problems with this type of thinking. First, I focus on my breathing, and then I take things step by step until my head is above water.