Would I Do It Again?
5 Things I'd Tell My 22-Year-Old Self Before Becoming a Navy Fighter Pilot
“Would you still do it, knowing everything it was going to cost you?”
I commissioned as a Navy officer in 2021 and earned my wings of gold in 2024. I’m still active duty, still in the machine, and still figuring out the answer to that question.
Here are five things I would tell myself before I started, and how my path has differed from the brochure at the recruiter’s office.
Eight Years is Longer Than You Think
Perception: Eight. That’s the number you have in your head and you’re going to plan your future to the day.
The recruiter told you that eight years from when you wing, once complete with all your flight training, your clock will start. Flight school takes about two years, so all in, if you really hate it, you’re only committed to about ten years in the Navy. By then you’ll be 32, ready for a family, and have all the hours you need to go to the airlines. What’s so bad about that?
Reality: That eight will actually look a lot more like twelve when it’s all said and done.
You’ll spend three months to a year waiting to start NIFE, another three months to a year waiting to start Primary, and finally another (wait for it…) three months to a year to start Advanced!
That’s an additional two years you can expect to have added to the training pipeline due to maintenance, personnel planning, and other issues.
And remember the Pers-43 debacle? TLDR: In an effort to increase retention, the Navy is now forcing all aviators to fulfill a second two-year sea tour.
Add the two unforeseen years from training delays to the mandatory two years spent at sea at the end of your timeline and now you see how an eighth-year sales pitch quickly turned into a twelve-year reality.
Your Time Belongs to the Navy
Perception: Deployments will be the most restrictive time of your career. When you’re home, you’ll live a normal work-life balance.
Deployments will be tough, as they simultaneously test you professionally at sea and personally in your relationships back home. During those times, you’ll expect to miss birthdays, holidays, and some special moments. Being in the military and serving your country is important to you, and this is a price you’ve decided is worth paying.
When not deployed, won’t you be sleeping in your own bed every night with a relatively normal schedule comprised of mostly training flights and typical “officer” desk work?
Reality: If you’re signing up to be a military aviator, you’re signing up to schedule your life one day at a time, twenty-four hours in advance.
Whether it’s been in training in the T-6, T-45, or in the fleet in the F-18, my life has been married to the ebbs and flows of the flight schedule. I’ve once had a random Wednesday off, deciding to go for a mini-vacation Tuesday evening, just to drive back at 9 pm because I was put on for a last-minute hop in the morning.
I’ve missed countless weddings, bachelor parties, and birthdays all while being right here in the USA during peacetime.
Just because you’re not on deployment doesn’t mean you're always home. Your life belongs to Uncle Sam, and he can dictate when it’s convenient for you to get married, have a child, or go on vacation for more than a long weekend.
What You End Up Flying Is A Lottery
Perception: The Navy is a meritocracy. Starting off in flight school, you’ll learn that your future is entirely based on 1s and 0s and the objectivity of a performance-based culture. Every flight will be graded, and every instructor will be equally trained on how to assign those grades based on flight performance.
“The only way ensure you get what you want is to be first in your class”.
Except… not always?
Reality: Bias exists even in the Navy. Instructors can grade unfairly (both positively and negatively). Students with high NSS scores worthy of jets get helicopters. You don’t always get what you want. Or deserve.
Don’t get me wrong: for the majority of cases, the Navy gets it right. Students who work hard, learn from their mistakes, and put in the work usually get what they want. The Navy flight school grading structure has been around for ages, and, although it’s far from perfect, it probably is the best way to rank-and-stack the hundreds of students that go through the pipeline every year.
The reason I used, admittedly, a click-baity title is that although you want the reassurance that if you work hard and do well, you’ll reap the reward.
That’s unfortunately not always the case.
There will be weeks when there are no jet slots available.
I was far from a great Primary student. I was probably barely a good one. But in the Navy, timing is everything. And, looking back, was I ever great at that.
When I finished Primary back in 2022, I had no idea how lucky I actually was. If I had selected just one month later, even my 'second choice' wouldn't have been an option—I wouldn't have had a choice at all. I would have been handed whatever the Navy needed that week.
In late 2022, the jet pipeline stalled. Between the T-45 engine issues and a massive backlog of students, jet slots dried up for nearly a year. It didn't matter how well you flew; if you were up for selection during that window, you didn't get jets.
This can be crushing for kids who set their lifelong dream on becoming a fighter pilot. But it’s the reality. If you want predictability, dream more reasonably and become an actuary.
It Kind of IS About the Money
Perception: The salary of an officer in the military can be viewed as pretty competitive, especially when you look at the tax benefits from BAH, BAS or combat zone pay. On top of that, all your flight training and flight hours are paid for and, well, full afterburner off the bow of a carrier? Let me guess: you’re probably going to say you’d do that for free, right?
You’re not wrong. And if you’re joining the military for the money, you should reevaluate your priorities. You will not get rich from a career in the Navy. You can, however, do very well for yourself, live a life full of amazing experiences, comfortably raise a family, and retire or move on to do any number of things afterwards with the skills and knowledge you’ll gain.
But at times you will definitely think to yourself, “they don’t pay me enough for this…”
Reality: No amount of money will make you happy. But in the military, you are likely to experience at least once a moment of… how do I say it… not giving a fuck?
Let me be clear: serving in the military is an honor, and the overwhelming majority of my days I wouldn’t trade for a day at the cubicle.
But in this business, everyone gets paid according to their rank/seniority and not their competence. The top dog who gets in early every day makes the same as the guy who was twenty minutes late relieving you from duty, smelling like too many video games and not owning a watch. There are no year-end bonuses in the military. In fact, it’s a common trope that the best, most effective workers are actually rewarded with… even more work.
You also aren’t compensated for: deployment extensions, working overtime/nights/weekends, or toilets not working on the latest and greatest aircraft carrier.
You’ll Never “Make It”
Perception: Once you get through flight school and earn your wings of gold, your life will be awesome as a full-on pilot, flying fighters for the world’s finest Navy.
A wise CO once told me:
"Don't continuously look for how good life will be 'if I just.' If I just finish Primary and get jets. If I just earn my wings of gold. If I just finish the FRS and get to the fleet."
There’s no doubt about it: flying an F-18 with gold wings on your chest on a beautiful, sunny day is an incredible feeling.
But that CO was right. It’s probably true for life, and not just my very specific niche of naval aviation, but life never gets better than right now. So enjoy the ride.
Reality: In naval aviation, you’ll be expected to continuously grow and improve. The feeling that you “made it” will be few and far between, if ever.
In Primary, you’ll go from being the top student in the Contacts Phase one week to the struggling beginner of the Formation Phase the next. Then, the moment you think you’ve mastered the unruly Goshawk, you’ll transition to a combat jet that nearly flies itself—demanding, instead, an unprecedented level of weapons systems management and tactical proficiency. Finally, once you reach the fleet, you’ll progress from combat wingman to section lead, and eventually to division lead, responsible for three other aircraft.
Congratulations. After all that, you’re finally eligible to attend Top Gun, Test Pilot School, or teach these impossible tasks to the next generation.
I won’t even start on how good you have to become just to graduate bottom of your class at Top Gun.
So, Would I Do It Again?
One-hundred percent.
The pipeline is brutal, the timeline is longer than they tell you, and there will be days where the math doesn’t add up no matter how you run it. But there will also be a morning, somewhere over the water, in a jet that costs more than every house on your street, doing something that less than a fraction of a percent of people on earth will ever do, where none of that matters.
You’re 22. You want the hard thing, go get it. Just read the fine print first.
Or don’t, ignorance is bliss.