A Response to “Navy Helicopter Pilot’s Mission: Find Love – What Happens When the Job Makes You Undateable?”

By LT Alex "CRITR" Hosko, USN

I walked into the ready room after another fabulous five hour plane guard line with a smattering of log runs on a hot June afternoon. A fellow JO tossed me the latest issue of Rotor Review (#164 Spring ’24). Smiling, he said, “Alex, I didn’t know you submitted your manifesto.” Confused, I thought to myself, “What are my friends considering as my manifesto?” I thumbed through the publication, skimming titles to try and figure out the punchline of this joke; surely it wasn’t anything from “Commodore’s Corner” or the “Be Ready” theme of the issue. About two-thirds of the way through, the punchline hit me like a brick wall.

“Navy Helicopter Pilot’s Mission: Find Love – What Happens When the Job Makes You Undateable”

Ms. Edward’s piece on struggling to balance meaningful relationships with her career spoke to me and hit home. As an eligible bachelor in a foreign country during a demanding FDNF schedule, I realized just how vocal I had been with the ebbs and flows of my dating life the past few years. As I write this, a senior HAC, counting down the single-digit months I have left in Japan, I can concur with her train of thought that my biggest fear in life right now is turning 28 alone.

Her words recounting lying to possible partners about job descriptions (for those wondering, my go-to cover story in a crowded Tokyo bar is posing as a free-lance journalist) and escapades on dating apps not only relate to myself and other junior officers in my FDNF wardroom but countless junior Naval Officers around the world. From the guys and gals at HSC-25 in Guam to those hopeless romantics flying C-26s out of Sicily and every platform and duty station in between. The type-A aviator has felt her pain.

Does this quantify us as undateable? Or are we rather just unavailable?

It’s difficult for me to look at my fellow pilots with bachelor’s degrees, some with graduate degrees, in (decent) physical shape, earning a competitive income, and throw the label “undateable” on them. An unfortunate side effect of our extensive training pipelines as Naval Aviators is that we are programmed to make concessions in our personal lives as we tackle a career path much bigger than ourselves. No matter how big or small, the coveted Wings of Gold are not earned without making sacrifices.

For many, trying to pursue this career at the highest level and having a fulfilling romantic life are mutually exclusive. Ms. Edwards touches on this unfortunate fact when she writes about the story of CDR Hansen, who finally found some time and decided to put energy into her personal life, only to be reminded that she was going to be underway for 18 of the next 24 months.

The timing of any sea tour is brutal, and the nauseating FDNF schedule is no exception. Six months underway and six months at home, albeit predictable, is still a daunting schedule for anyone trying to swoon a possible partner. If you factor in chasing qualifications, maintenance inspections, HARP, and an annual strike detachment to Okinawa, you’re left with realistically only three months to try and convince someone (who might not even speak great English) to stick it out the next nine months until you’ll be emotionally available again. I would be remiss to not acknowledge that the pain and stress caused by an FDNF schedule, or any sea tour for that matter, does not discriminate. It is just as taxing on those who are married or have an existing relationship with a long-time partner back home in the United States.

Another portion of this article that caught my eye was Ms. Edwards’ impressive career accolades. Over 2,000 hours logged, multiple deployments overseas, and experience possibly having to execute TTPs in contested waters. An impressive resume for all JOs to try and emulate. Although I don’t know the woman, and don’t want to make assumptions, I think it’s safe to say she was a very “on-path” aviator who found herself being sold the “golden path” as a first tour JO.

A sea tour - into a production billet - followed by a competitive dissociated job back on the boat – screen for operational DH - back to sea - Pentagon - maybe get selected?

What fun! It’s that simple!

I, an ignorant JO, find it hard to believe that between PCS'ing, grueling qualification processes, and multiple tours spent at sea, any motivated Type-A aviator would take time to find a partner - and that is ok! This does not make you undateable, but rather, as I mentioned earlier, simply unavailable.

This rebuttal isn’t to discount any of the feelings Ms. Edwards expresses or even remotely compare my experience as a man to the issues she, and many female Naval Aviators, may face as single women. I simply want to point out that as human beings we crave companionship and unfortunately this can clash with the “golden path” and the overall needs of the Navy.

It’s not Naval Aviation’s prerogative to ensure you have adequate time to build a life with someone. At some point as a single JO, you’re going to have to decide on whether you want to make yourself “available.” If you’re serious, this may mean taking concessions in your career and looking off the path for a situation where you might find success. In the current climate, where people are increasingly finding themselves alone and mental health issues plague countless Sailors, I think it’s important that first tour JOs begin to account for their future. They must consider what they’re really looking to achieve in Naval Aviation and stick to what they believe is right for them. If it isn’t the “golden path,” I implore you to have that tough conversation early on with your front office.

Being a Naval Aviator, a lifetime achievement, is sometimes inalienable and indiscernible from who you are outside of the cockpit. Much like a doctor or lawyer, it’s an exotic profession that will most likely be a topic of conversation when brought up. You should not let it define you or stop you from emulating whoever you want to be and what you want to accomplish outside the cockpit. Whether it’s a look back at higher education, a path off the one they call “golden,” or the warm embrace of a partner, go be dateable, available, and everything in between.