In memorium.
It has been 25 years today since the late, great Nick Bradshaw died.
Many of you would know of him, many would have seen him in various forms of media as his image is without age, his ability to inspire endless.
Few truely knew the legendary man that he was, but many know of his tragic last few months.
Let me illuminate you.
He was born July 19, 1962 in Santa Barbara, California and grew up there.
He attended the university of Southern California and it was there that his love of flying grew, watching planes fly overhead, he would head down to the airbase at Vandenberg Airforce Base in Santa Barbara to watch the jets.
It was also at University that he began playing beach volleyball and despite offers for the pro-circuit he wanted to do one thing... fly!
He eventually decided that the airforce was not for him as the navy offered much broader options for travel and at the time, a much more aggressive 'point of the spear' approach to force projection.
He joined the navy as a navigator and in his first placement he was sent to the USS Enterprise to fly around in an F-14 Tomcat, with the pilot Lieutenant Pete Mitchel, tailing Soviets and forcing their sorties away.
As the top fighter team on the USS Enterprise they were nominated for further training at The United States Navy Fighter Weapons School to show what sort of a top line flight team the ship can produce. But they liked to cut it fine as they repeatedly would shout "I Feel the need... The need for speed!" An oft heard saying on deck.
His diary showed that the United States Navy Fighter Weapons School is not an easy place to remain true to oneself, but this is exactly what Bradshaw manages to do.
He spends much of his time in the shadow of his diminutive buddy, Lt Pete Mitchell; hanging around local bars, singing intrusive karaoke to helpless females, and wearing shades in darkened nightclubs.
The United States Navy Fighter Weapons School is filled with a memorable crew of young, dumb and pretty fighter pilots, all with special skills. One pilot, LT Tom Kazanskyhas had hair so large it can be seen from space, whilst a junior aviotor, Lt. Rick Neven, could oil himself up and hit poses so homoerotic that nearby horses were known to spontaneously combust.
"It would be so easy to just don the white uniform and enter into the boys-own atmosphere of my colleagues, who seem to spend most of their time rubbing each other down and flicking each other with wet towels."
Bradshaw, however, has no interest in such behaviour. Pete even tries to lead him on by posing repeatedly in his white pants, but Bradshaw remains strong and keeps his eyes fixed firmly forward at all times.
Not content with being a very promising young navigator, Bradshaw is a man of many extra talents.
He was a skilled musician, although he suspects that he irritated staff and customers of many a small diner with raucous sing-alongs on the house piano, his meticulously rehearsed duets with Pete had also been known to go down a storm in local nightspots.
Bradshaw was also a keen photographer, and had a series of interesting pictures taken from the air, including one of his buddy Pete flipping the bird at a MiG pilot not four feet away.
Bradshaw enjoyed nothing more than a game of beach volleyball with his pilot buddies to show off his prowess. In fact, so seriously did he take his sporting performance that he steadfastly refused to indulge in any of the greased-up machismo that his fellow players seemed to enjoy so much. Whilst the rest of the competitors seem to spend more effort liberally smearing themselves with Johnson's baby oil and hitting achingly striking poses, Bradshaw remained the model of professionalism, content to play the game in a sensible T-shirt and pair of Bermuda shorts.
It must also be noted that Bradshaw seemed to be the only pupil at The United States Navy Fighter Weapons School capable of sustaining a long-term relationship with a member of the opposite sex. Whilst the rest of the pilots hit the clubs in their nice white uniforms and shades looking to enter the local ladies' danger zones, Bradshaw was just along for a sociable Budweiser. His heart belonged to the his wife Carol, who can now only dream of her husband after the tragedy of his death.
Near the end of the training program, on 16th May 1986, Mitchell and Kazansky both chased an instructor, the latter attempting to gain a missile lock on the target. Under intense pressure from Mitchell, Kazansky broke off. Mitchell's F-14 flew through the jet wash of Kazansky's aircraft and suffered a flameout of both engines, entering a flat spin from which he could not recover, forcing him and Bradshaw to eject. Bradshaw ejected directly into the jettisoned aircraft canopy and was killed on impact.
Although the board of inquiry cleared Mitchell of responsibility, many still believe it was due to his reckless flying.
Remember kids - next time you're drinking a cold beer, pour a little on the ground for Lieutenant Nick Bradshaw.
He's a hero that will live on in all our hearts, a wingman you'd be proud to call your own.
" -KingCracker
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