Virtual Skies / Real Bonds

I’ve spent countless hours flying Digital Combat Simulator (DCS) online. Before that, Falcon 3.0 and 4.0. In the silence of a spare bedroom or basement, headset on, HOTAS in hand, I’ve flown virtual sorties over fictionalized battlefields with people I’ve never seen in person. We’ve dropped ordnance, flown cover, tangled with bandits, and laughed over botched landings or perfect formations. We’ve shared comms, tactics, inside jokes, and the thrill of narrowly escaping SAM fire — all without ever shaking hands.

To most people, it probably sounds a little strange. After all, a flight sim is just a game, right? Flying jets that don’t exist, over conflicts that never happened, fought by pilots who’ve never physically met. But if you've flown any flight sim online with a squadron or friend, you know it’s not just about the pixels or the cold realism of radar modes. It’s about the camaraderie. The trust. The rhythm of working with people who know your flying style better than your co-workers probably know your coffee order.

Over time, you learn who’s cool under pressure, who always forgets to arm their weapons, who’s going to call "Winchester" ten minutes into a mission, and who you’d follow into the thickest of virtual firestorms without hesitation. You get to know them not by face, but by their voice over SRS, their flight callsigns, and the way they fly. And in that world, those details are more than enough.

Years ago, after flying with one squadron-mate for ages, I finally decided to make the trip to meet him. I loaded up my motorcycle and pointed it west- he actually lived less than 100 miles away. When I finally arrived, there was this surreal moment: I knew him, but I didn’t. There was no awkwardness, though. We’d already flown hundreds of missions together. Shared dozens of late-night debriefs. Laughed, vented, won, and lost.

Meeting in person was great — don’t get me wrong — but it didn’t fundamentally change anything. That connection had already been forged, high above virtual terrain, in moments of quiet coordination or chaotic dogfights. The meeting just added another layer to what was already there.

The callsigns get stuck in your head through the years, too. Wit. Skeet. Snake. Dweezel. Itch. Pacman. Gixxer. Paco. Shaker. Stiller. You know who you are.

So no — I haven’t seen most of these people in person. And maybe I never will. But I know them. And they know me. We’ve trusted each other with our virtual lives over

and over again. That counts for something. It’s real in the way that matters most.

Even if the flying isn’t.

CB