Military Fighter Jets

I was on my pasture the other day, minding my own business, hosing down the horses because summer is back and it is impossible to do anything without dying from heat stroke these days.

While I was standing there, tangled up in the hose, five needy horses around me, all of them pushing to get closer, to be the one getting wet, it suddenly got dark. I swear, for a second, the light shifted. And while I looked up, the sound hit.

I don’t know if any of you have tried to have one of the military fighter jets fly over your head, so low you could have taken detailed pictures on a cell phone, but me and my babies, we tried that. Note that they fly faster than the speed of sound, so I had no warning whatsoever. It was just there. And then we were nearly knocked over by the sound.

I got to say, my babies did amazing. They all turned to me, and for a split second, I hesitated, and they all spooked. Then I regained my body language and they all calmed and stuck to me.

The sound lingered. For minutes. Long, long after the plane was gone. It was so loud, I would have let go of the hose to cover my ears, if I wasn’t trying to pretend that everything was normal for the benefit of my horses.

I was stunned. It is one thing for them to be training, but to fly so low, over a pasture?

What if I had been sitting on Apocalipse? Or one of my other youngsters? I could have been killed, and the pilot would have never known. I would have had no warning, no chance to calm my horse as the plane approached. No fighting chance, at all.

I was so shaken, that when the son of a bitch came back, clearly flying in circles, I did not think to turn on my camera and take pictures. I was too busy having all sorts of things flying through my head.

The horses did not spook the second time. Clearly, they trust me. But imagine if I had not been there? What if they had run out onto the road? What if they would have got hit by a car, because they ran through the fence in fear?

Flying that low over a pasture, is not only irresponsible, it is down right dangerous, not only to me and my horses, but the people, innocently driving on the roads.

And then it hit me. What those planes are for. What this guy was training for.

Looking up, seeing him in the distance, turning the plane upside down, rolling in the air, he looked like he was playing. Like he was having the time of his life. And isn’t that just sick?

Not only was he potentially putting civilians in danger, right here, in his own country, but what he was training for, was flying, faster than the speed of sound, to a forign country, to drop bombs on civilians.

As soon as that thought hit me, I felt sick. And angry. And so very, very small.

Imagine being those civilians. Imagine looking up as the sky darkens overhead, seeing a plane like that, knowing that this is it. This is how it all ends. There is no running, no taking cover, no fighting back. That plane holds your life in its hands and if it decides to drop a bomb on you, then you are dead.


Just imagine for a moment.

The very idea of this pilot, training for that, right above my head, is so repulsive to me, I don’t even have words for it. No, I do not support our troops. No, I will never support anyone who train for killing others. No. Just no. Not on my pasture.

I even called the cops when the guy came back today and asked them what I could do to make them train somewhere else. They told me that as much as they understand how dangerous it is with wild horses in traffic, the military can do whatever the fuck they want. It comes with being at war. Civilians, like me, loose all rights to safety. He advised me to train my horses to not spook over the sound of fighter jets.

Yeah, sure. I’ll go ahead and do that. No wait, I think I’ll just write about it on my blog instead, because I don’t have a plane in my back pocket, or anything else for that matter, that can break the sound barrier. I know, I must be a lousy horse trainer. I totally should have prepared for that… I mean, come on, who isn’t?!

The police man did tell me that he wasn’t aloud to fly that low though, buuuuuut, I’d have to prove it. Unless I could get someone at the flight center to disclose their records to me.

I am not out to get the pilot. I really am not. I am just terrified, and outraged that I live in a land where the military has unlimited powers to endanger civilians. I feel like someone should talk about this.

And truly, I feel that we should sell those bloody planes, not buy more. Watching it, I couldn’t help but kind of wish that he would crash. At least then, we would have a plane less, and a potential murderer less, (call them soldiers all you want, I don’t care, bombing civilians is murder in my book,) and a lot of innocent lives spared.

And then I instantly kicked myself for wishing this unnamed pilot harm. I am better than that. I should be better than that. I will be. All lives matter. I will keep telling myself that. Even those who willingly sign up for murdering others.

Imagine though. Seeing those planes come in. Watching those bombs fall. Never getting to hear the sound of them, leaving…

Sometimes, all you can do is weep for the human race.


About Starstone

-Owned by horses. Writer, Photographer, Director, Musician.
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