BRAD HORN/Nevada Appeal Above: Ron Young watches coverage by CNN and 'CBS Evening News With Dan Rather' on a big-screen television before his speech at the Carson Nugget on Friday evening. Top, left, Young is shown with his mother on CNN after being rescued. Center, Bill and Angela Miles listen to Young speak. He is shown on CNN, right, after his capture.
Confronted with possible execution, Operation Iraqi Freedom prisoner of war Ron Young did the only thing he could think of: Pray.
"I can't truly explain how my time in Iraq has changed my life," Young told an audience of about 180 people at Friday night's annual chamber dinner in the Carson Nugget Convention Center. "I have appreciation for my family, and I thank God every day that my life was saved."
His keynote address began and ended with standing ovations from Carson City's business elite and their guests.
Young urged audience members to support the troops defending Iraq, whether they agreed with the war or not. Some wiped away tears during the 45-minute speech, while others beamed with pride at the young former Army solder.
Young's Apache Longbow helicopter was shot down during his first combat mission on March 23, 2003. He and co-pilot Chief Warrant Officer David Williams went down about 50 miles southwest of Baghdad. They were hostages for 22 days.
Young, of Atlanta, is now a CNN correspondent and on the Premiere Speakers Bureau roster.
Young charmed the audience with his Southern drawl while telling anecdotal stories of his imprisonment and boyhood dreams of flying. He said his family and the movie "Top Gun" inspired him to enlist in the military after three years in college. Young yearned for the "highway to the danger zone and, of course, the girl."
But it wasn't until his Iraqi mission that the 26-year-old would face war's realities: chaos, death and fear.
The Army pounded Baghdad with artillery the day Young was sent on his first mission. He said he knew it wasn't a training exercise because people were cursing over the radio.
"The anticipation was unbelievable," Young said. "Adrenaline was just running through my veins."
In the air with the fleet, he realized this was for real, and the people on the ground were trying to kill him. The 18 Apaches were ambushed. All of Young's weapons malfunctioned. When the helicopter started going down, he recalled a female voice over the aircraft's loud speaker, which the Army uses because men react quicker to a female voice.
The audience laughed as Young repeated what the calm female voice said, things like "engine out, fuselage on fire."
After crashing and running through weeds into an irrigation ditch, Young and his co-pilot were confronted with armed men screaming at them in Arabic. Young said he gave his co-pilot, who had been injured in the foot, three options: They could surrender, shoot back with just a 9 mm gun, or run.
They surrendered.
In prison, the men were videotaped, threatened, and nearly blown through the prison's tin roof during the Baghdad air raids. Young prayed for 12 hours straight. His group of seven POWs were rescued by "battle-hardened Marines" in a house outside Tikrit.
"I'm not going to lie to you - it was the greatest moment of my life," Young said.
Carson City's Amelia Craik, a Piñon Plaza Casino-Resort employee, said Young's speech was wonderful.
"My daughter's boyfriend is going to Germany in three months, and he's going to do the same duty as (former Army POW) Jessica Lynch," Craik said. "We're hoping and praying if he goes to Iraq that he'll be OK."
The message also hit home to Patty Robson, facility director for the Plaza Conference Center. Her 17-year-old son Chad left school early to go into the military, but he won't leave for seven months, when he turns 18. Robson hopes the United States will withdraw from Iraq before then.
Robson said she felt proud of Young, but she was glad her son wasn't there to hear him.
"I think if he would've been here, he would've just gone (to enlist)," she said, tears forming in her eyes. "But I have him until March 28; he's still mine. I'm glad he wasn't here. I'm still scared for him to go."
Contact Becky Bosshart at bbosshart@nevadaappeal.com or 881-1212.
