Fate Has Control

Impressions of a Pilot

Flight is freedom in its purest form,

To dance with the clouds which follow a storm;

To roll and glide, to wheel and spin,

To feel the joy that swells within;

To leave the earth with its troubles and fly,

And know the warmth of a clear spring sky;

Then back to earth at the end of a day,

Released from the tensions which melted away.

Should my end come while I am in flight,

Whether brightest day or darkest night;

Spare me your pity and shrug off the pain,

Secure in the knowledge that I'd do it again;

For each of us is created to die,

And within me I know, I was born to fly.

— Gary Claud Stokor

Fate Has Control

Copyright © 2020 by Rick Zyvitski

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-2288-2531-9 (Hardcover)

978-0-2288-2530-2 (Paperback)

978-0-2288-2532-6 (eBook)

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my wonderful wife Gerry. Her editing suggestions, filtered through the female heart and mind, were very much appreciated. Love always

Chapter 1

Tyrell James Sackette was born in 1954 and raised in Ottawa, Canada. His most startling features were his big green eyes and olive skin. His mother took a great deal of pride in his appearance, but she also envisioned both good and bad future encounters based on those features. From an early age, he knew that he had a keen sense about things and events that his buddies seemed to lack. He was very bright and quick to grasp concepts. This was complemented by an athletic build that allowed him to excel to the highest levels in the various sports he chose to participate in. The faster and more complicated the game, the greater his degree of success.

During this era, young boys were in a constant state of activity. Summer included games like jail break, which amounted to running around catching other guys in a foot race and putting them in a simulated jail. As fall approached, attention shifted to football—a full-on tackle game without any protective pads. Being good Canadian boys, the winter brought the heavily watched hockey season to the limelight. On top of these activities, Ty was expected to pitch in with chores around the house, and he could sell his extra time to neighbours and shovel snow, cut grass, or do whatever they needed. This activity instilled a fine work ethic in Ty and proved beneficial later in life as he built a business empire from the bottom up.

Ty found that his greatest passion was for the game of hockey. The sport called for speed, strength, and intellect, which, when melded with an appropriate measure of tactics for his age group, could best be described as precision drill on ice. Ty’s stock quickly rose in the various hockey circles due to his outstanding achievements in the Atom and Pee Wee divisions (nine to twelve-year-olds). Pro scouts were already salivating about what lay ahead. His father was on his case continually about the future. Who cares, Ty would think. He was having the time of his life just playing the game. It was hard to tell, however, given the cuts and bruises he was collecting playing two years beyond his natural level. (Star players were often moved up to higher leagues.) In one game, after completing a natural hat trick (when a single player scores three consecutive goals without any other player scoring from either team), he was brutally high-sticked across the cheek by an opposing defenceman and received a gash that required fourteen sutures to close. In usual fashion, Ty was up early the next day and off to practice at 5:30 in the morning. Midway through this outing, his father pulled him from practice. It was the only time he saw his father’s approach to his hockey future soften somewhat. Later in life, he found out that it had been his mother who had intervened.

Ty found himself playing Midget AAA as a thirteen-year-old and actually excelling. He had the speed, talent, and grit to compete, but he took a pounding physically based on his boyish structure. Thankfully, he knew he had three full years to grow physically before graduating to Major Junior Hockey, based on the current rules. As anticipated, Ty took a big step forward each year at the midget level—so much so that minor hockey made a petition to the Ontario Hockey League (OHL) to grant a waiver so that Ty could play Major Junior Hockey as a fifteen-year-old.

It was about this time that Ty had his first interaction with fate. At Christmas, he and his family were enjoying a skiing trip at Camp Fortune when the darker side of the future visited the young hockey star. As one would expect, Ty was a gifted skier who combined speed and balance in perfect harmony. Unfortunately, his aggressive approach to the sport was not supported by the equipment of that era. On a run through a forested area at reckless speed, he made a very tight right turn. His left binding exploded, causing his left ski to fly off. This decreased his speed but increased the radius of the turn, bringing into play a rather large trunk of a fir tree. Unbeknown to Ty at the time was the fact that he would become very familiar with these mathematical terms in the not too distant future. He had just enough time to get the majority of his frame to the right of the tree before his left ankle and foot struck the trunk with a sickening thud. Upon getting his bearings, he took inventory of his body and soon discovered that his left ankle looked funny. His left foot was bent at a ninety-degree angle toward his left calf muscle, and he could see blood seeping from the top of his boot.

No hockey this year, Ty thought to himself, already beginning the process of deciding what to do next. As it turned out, he was bang-on in his brief assessment. He had shattered the ankle joint, and two bones were actually protruding out of his skin. For two years, as a result of the severe damage, Ty’s ankle would turn black whenever he attempted to skate on it.

The hockey scouts soon drifted away … and so did his father. It was as if Ty had purposely crushed his father’s dream of having a son make it all the way to the show (National Hockey League). Ty, on the other hand, had moved on. Now a mere mortal in athletic pursuits, Ty turned to the mental challenge of high school science and math, which provided an outlet for his drive to excel. As with sports, Ty was equally at home on the academic field. He was one of those rare folks who could do rather complex mathematical equations quickly and easily in his head. He soon became bored, however, and started to drift aimlessly, like so many students of that era.

Around this time, Ty became aware of how his appearance affected the opposite sex. He had reached his full height of six feet but was still on the slim side, tipping the scales at 165 pounds. He wore his dark brown hair shoulder length, as was the custom of the early seventies, and his tanned complexion suggested a European origin, which was different than most of the other students. His most prominent features were dark green eyes and a slightly bent nose, due to it being broken twice. A long, thin weal on his cheek from his hockey days, coupled with full, fleshy lips completed the picture. In typical fashion of the era, parents were prone to being suspicious about him because of his rugged appearance, while his female classmates thought he was an absolute darling.

Ty had several relationships, and most ended with a rather cold reception from the parents of the unfortunate girls, until he took a step back and wondered where he was going. He looked slightly more mature physically than other boys his age, so some parents were more guarded about their innocent daughters. Then he met Susan Cutter, a rather attractive girl two years younger than him who also came from a hard working family. Susan had a beautiful, genuine smile yet was reserved and sophisticated all in the same package. He especially loved how she carried herself while walking—head high and shoulders back, suggesting a very confident woman. On top of all this, she was always happy and focused on the matter at hand. I feel inadequate around her, he would mutter to himself.

Susan, on the other hand, saw the good in Ty and envisioned him as a formidable man in the future. They dated several times and grew closer as time went on. Ty soon found himself feeling pressure from his male friends to start rounding the bases with Susan, something they all bragged they were doing with their girlfriends. Being rather new to all this, he clumsily tried to become more adventurous with Susan, but she just wasn’t ready. She loved making out—kissing and hugging—but wouldn’t allow his hands to roam around her anatomy. Ty’s friends assured him that if Susan wasn’t interested in ramping up the relationship, there were other, more interesting, ladies out there. Ty didn’t believe that for a second, and he definitely didn’t want to offend Susan, so he just let things cool between them. Susan, however, kept track of Ty from a distance.

As his high school years drew to a close, Ty faced few options, as he had allowed his marks to deteriorate in all classes but the sciences. This was partially due to his apathy for courses like English and History, but mainly because of the large increase in hormones coursing through his body, which made him both excited and somewhat scared at times. Of course, he’d known for years that it was unlikely that his family would be able to afford to send him to college or university anyway. He seemed to be stuck in neutral and continually longed for another passion in life.

He managed to find work in a magnesium mine and was able to get by, but this was hardly what Ty imagined for himself long-term. His fellow miners were great guys, and some had worked the mine all their lives. Ty could see in their eyes, though, that most had longed for a more exciting existence. Most of their stories followed the same pattern—they’d met a woman, gotten her pregnant, and needed to make a living to exist. After about six months in the mines, Ty grew restless.

One day, as if by some pre-ordained schedule of events, he was invited by an old hockey coach to an Air Show at Canadian Forces Base (CFB) Ottawa. Here he would find his passion for years to follow. Upon entering the grounds of the base, Ty was amazed by the number and different types of aircraft on display. Based on his love of speed and performance, he was naturally drawn to the several jet aircraft at the end of the line. The first was a Tutor aircraft used for training pilots and by the world famous Snow Birds. It reminded him of a small sports car—not all that fast, but it sported impressive lines.

Ty then moved on to the CF-5 Freedom Fighter painted in dark camouflage markings, which made it appear deadly in nature. Then came the CF-101 Voodoo, a powerful looking brute of an aircraft with huge engines. Last in line was a very sleek CF-104 Star Fighter. This aircraft had the sports car look similar to the Tutor but with something more impressive under the hood.

One of the pilots noticed Ty pining over the aircraft and approached him with a smile.

Well, what do you think?

Wow, they’re all magnificent.

You know, the Canadian Forces is in the process of recruiting young men to fly these jets. In fact, they’ve opened up the Officer Candidate Training Program (OCTP) to high school graduates for the first time.

Really? Where do I get more information?

Follow me and I’ll see that you get all the information you’ll require.

Ty was intrigued and wanted to learn more, so the pilot gave him some written information and encouraged him to think seriously about a future in the forces. Ty knew that the process would be daunting, but he was 100 per cent in.

He applied the very next week and was told they would be in touch. In the interim, Ty was consumed by the thought of flying a high-performance fighter. He read every book he could get his hands on, and he learned that there were several directions one could take in the fighter world. The Star Fighter was employed in the European theatre in support of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), largely in a ground attack role. The Freedom Fighter was used primarily in Canada in both an air-to-air and air-to-ground role, but it also had a European commitment through NATO by way of deployment. Finally, the Voodoo was employed as a North American air defence interceptor.

Several months after submitting his application, Ty got a call from a Canadian Forces recruiter offering him a position as a submariner. Ty, although very disappointed, managed to remain well mannered and politely declined the offer, reiterating that he wanted to become a pilot. After several more weeks, he finally received the call he’d been waiting for—his number had come up, and he began the process of becoming a Canadian Forces pilot.

Ty breezed through the aptitude and academic tests. Next came the dexterity simulator (a machine that rotates constantly but can be stopped by an applicant) to test hand-eye coordination. The pilot in charge (an older fighter pilot) was impressed with Ty’s ability. After several more tests, Ty and the other applicants noticed that their group was getting smaller—in fact, a lot smaller. When the testing came to an end, only Ty and nine other mates were left from a group that started with forty.

Chapter 2

Ty and several other young men were formally enrolled in the Canadian Forces on February 7, 1974. Ty spent the night before his flight out at a hotel in Ottawa, where he received a call from his mother. She told him that Susan Cutter wanted him to call her. When he phoned, Susan explained that she wanted to wish him well on the course, and she asked if he would write to her a few times. Ty felt genuinely happy about this request, knowing that someone he admired still had some interest in him.

The next day, he and his fellow candidates flew to Chilliwack, British Columbia to join a larger group for basic training at the OCTP. The applicants were placed in several platoons and then directed to perform certain tasks, following the directions of their comrades. Group leaders changed daily, and all were assessed on their ability to lead the various tasks. This, combined with a daily dose of physical fitness, marching, shooting, and military history, left little time for social activities. The one time Ty could remember going to a local bar and meeting a good looking lady ended in disaster when he fell asleep at the table.

Around this time he received a letter from Susan Cutter asking how he was doing and about his plans. Ty felt a measure of comfort from the letter, and they corresponded several more times throughout the course, with each letter becoming more personal. In fact, they even signed off the last couple of letters with the love word. He also asked Susan about her plans, as he’d recently learned that the world didn’t revolve around just him. Susan opened up and said that she was looking at a public relations type career in which she would facilitate events. She explained that public relations included all practices involved in generating publicity for an organization or a public figure. It was also a communication discipline related to journalism and media, brand building, and social services. Ty congratulated her on a very promising career plan and promised to keep in touch.

As the course went on, Ty had a hard time understanding how performing like an infantry soldier helped in his training, but his natural athleticism, combined with his burning motivation to become a fighter pilot, allowed him to succeed. The same could not be said of a lot of his new friends. One hundred applicants started the course, but only sixty made it through.

At the end of the course, Ty and the other candidates were allowed some vacation time. Ty returned to Ottawa, very much looking forward to a meeting with Susan. Upon getting out of the car in front of her parents’ house on Dominion Street, Ty was taken by surprise when, rather than getting a hug and a friendly greeting, he faced a rather angry young lady. He had forgotten about a comment he’d made in passing to another guy while still in high school about how frigid the Cutter gal was compared to other girls. He was shocked to now discover that this same guy had passed his comment on to Susan. He obviously had