Randy Turner’s military journey began with a lifelong dream. “I wanted to be in the Army since I was 6 years old,” he recalls, unable to pinpoint precisely why.
With his mother’s consent, Turner, age 17, enlisted and was sent to Fort Benning, Georgia, for basic training just days after graduating high school in 1980.
His father had been a para-rescue serviceman, commonly known as a PJ, during the Korean War, but didn’t talk much about his experiences, so it wasn’t something that stood out in their conversations.
Turner admits he didn’t fully realize what his father had done until many years later and isn’t quite sure how he overlooked it for so long.
He explained that there’s a distinct difference between those who’ve attended Ranger school and those who’ve served in the Ranger battalion. Ranger school, he said, is like jump school — tough, but it’s not the same.
“You earn your parachute wings at jump school, but that doesn’t automatically make you a paratrooper. Similarly, Ranger school is grueling, but it’s not the same as being in the Ranger battalion,” Turner said.
The battalion is a way of life. The standard is everything. Turner recalled how they used to say, “You’re not assigned to the Ranger battalion; you survive in the Ranger battalion.” If you didn’t meet the standard, you were out. There was no room for mistakes — any misstep, even something like writing a hot check, could get you kicked out. The pressure was constant and relentless, with no slack to be found.
It set an impressive standard for a young man fresh out of high school. The Ranger Creed, which Turner has memorized to this day, became a guiding principle.
He began his journey in the Army’s First Ranger Battalion, an elite unit in Savannah, Georgia, describing it as a fascinating environment. The constant physical and mental challenges fostered camaraderie and discipline. “They PT’d the snot out of you,” noting that it was essential for developing the unique skills needed for high-risk operations.
Reflecting on his Ranger experience, he shares, “It was a lot of fun — I learned a whole lot — I got to experience everything from the jungle to the Arctic Circle,” he recalls.
Despite facing dangerous situations, including a fall that broke his leg during training, he maintains his sense of humor, saying, “It’s never the fall; it’s always that last half inch that gets people.
“One of the most valuable skills taught to Rangers early on is the operations order process, or ‘op order,’ which includes everything from assessing a situation to execution,” Turner explains, still clearly remembering them to this day. “What’s the situation? What’s the mission? How will the mission be executed? Who’s in charge? (Command and Control) and what support is available?”
He notes these core questions form the foundation of any plan — whether military or civilian. “They are a solid roadmap for accomplishing whatever you’re setting out to do, whether it’s a business plan or any other goal,” Turner said.
His interactions with Air Force Special Operations pilots inspired him to take to the sky. After four years in the Army, Turner thought, ‘How about if I fly?’ With his experience and understanding of events on the ground, he figured he could be very effective up in the air. “Plus, if I die, at least I’ll die cleaner.”
He loved the Army, but after completing his enlistment, he attended the University of Texas at Arlington and participated in Air Force ROTC at Texas Christian University, which had a cross-town agreement. In 1987, he was fortunate enough to secure a pilot slot. In February 1988, he began pilot training at Williams Air Force Base in Arizona.
Turner has a deep appreciation for the AC-130 gunship, often called Spectre, which he describes as a “very, very cool airplane.” He was captivated by its impressive design, built for ground support and armed with two main cannons: a powerful 105-millimeter howitzer and a 40-millimeter cannon, similar to those used on ships for targeting enemy aircraft.
The smaller cannon fires rapidly, producing a distinctive “boom, boom, boom” sound. Additionally, the AC-130 features various machine guns and smaller cannons mounted on its side, enhancing its formidable presence in the sky.
“The aircraft has the ability to ‘waste what they need to waste,’” Turner states. His Air Force career was just as eventful as his Army years. Despite his admiration for this remarkable aircraft, Turner never had the opportunity to fly the AC-130.
He began flying the rugged but versatile C-130. “Everybody wants to fly a fighter,” Turner notes, “but I wanted to fly a C-130.”
The Ranger battalion mantras Turner learned served him well in the Air Force: quitting simply isn’t an option. “While technically you can quit,” Turner says, “doing so means you’re finished. There’s no room for hesitation or surrender. If you say, ‘I can’t,’ or anything resembling that, the response is clear — ‘See you later. Goodbye.’”
His first missions took him to the Middle East, Germany and Africa, where he witnessed the fall of the Berlin Wall and participated in the invasion of Panama. He speaks with pride about the C-130’s capabilities, which included dropping troops, tanks and supplies. Turner’s squadron operated those C-130’s globally, often in high-risk situations.
Turner’s service continued through Desert Storm, Bosnia and Operations Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom. His tone is matter-of-fact as he recalls the long hours, grueling deployments and dangerous missions. “There’s a war on,” he says simply. “You handle business.”
When asked about humorous moments, Turner responds with a grin, “Humor is what you use to get by. There’s so much of that.” However, his tone shifted when he spoke about the media’s portrayal of military conflicts.
Turner’s experience as an information warfare officer sharpened his critical thinking and made him keenly aware of how information is shaped and shared with the public.
He lost trust in national media during his service, watching reporters post stories that felt utterly disconnected from the reality he witnessed. “I would see my airplane on a news story and wonder, ‘Were we on the same continent? Because that is absolutely not what is happening,’” he recalls.
Throughout his career, Turner never lost his admiration for the military. “I mean, you get to hang out with some giants … you can accomplish just about anything if you decide you’re going to do it,” he concludes.
Turner shared a vivid memory from his time in the military, recounting an experience at a small airfield called Rafha, located on the Saudi-Iraqi border. “There was a C-130 taking off and landing there every 10 minutes for two weeks, around the clock.”
Without air traffic control to assist, Turner and his fellow pilots had to navigate the airspace on their own. “It was a very challenging deal,” he explained; flying conditions were made more difficult by oil well fires, night-time operations, and the sheer number of planes in the air.
Turner recalled a mission where they were transporting about 130 soldiers from the 101st Airborne late one night. “Having been a grunt myself, I have a soft spot for grunts,” he said. “These soldiers, who had been in the desert for months, were seated on the floor of the plane, with only a tie-down strap for support.”
He and his crew had what they called “box nasties” — simple sandwiches packed for long missions. But when the loadmaster informed Turner that these soldiers hadn’t seen fresh white bread in months, he and the rest of the crew knew what to do.
They passed their sandwiches back to the soldiers, who were grateful for something as simple as a fresh loaf of bread. “Nobody wanted to be the guy that took the last piece,” Turner said, describing how the soldiers were tearing off little bitty pieces of the sandwich and then passing it to the next guy. The same happened with the hot coffee they offered — another luxury the soldiers hadn’t experienced in months.
Turner was struck by the humility and camaraderie of the soldiers, who shared everything equally, making sure no one took more than their share. “It’s almost like the last supper,” he said, reflecting on the moment. “What’s too much to take care of a guy like that?”
“When you see the movie ‘Band of Brothers,’ that’s it,” Turner added, emphasizing soldiers’ deep care for one another.
Despite seeing combat on multiple continents, Turner downplays his own experiences in making a comparison. “I’ve been shot at on four continents,” he said with a shrug. “Big deal. Those guys, though. Those grunts. They were living in misery.”
Turner offers sobering thoughts on the repetitive nature of warfare. “We still make the same mistakes we made in Vietnam, the same ones from the First World War,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. Yet, his advice to young people considering a military career is grounded and practical. “Go talk to someone doing the job you think you want,” he advises. “The recruiter has one job, but the person actually doing it will give you the real story.”
When asked to sum up his military experience in three words, Turner paused before saying, “Foundational … rewarding … and privileged.”
He discovered a love for Greek food during his travels. “Real Greek food — man, it’s fantastic,” Turner said enthusiastically, noting his plans for the upcoming Greek Food Festival in Fort Worth.
Turner’s military service still influences his life today, especially around holidays like Memorial Day and Veterans Day. He refuses to say, ‘Happy Memorial Day’ and sees it as a somber time to remember those who have fallen. “It’s like Patton said, don’t grieve their loss, celebrate that they existed,” he paraphrased.
One of the more difficult transitions Turner faced was returning to civilian life after deployments. He described the sensory overload he experienced after coming home from war zones where everything was “a shade of brown” and nothing worked. “It took me two or three days to get back into it,” he admitted.
His nephew, who also served in Iraq, struggled similarly, having to consciously stop himself from reacting to everyday objects that might have been threats in a war zone.
Throughout his journey, Turner remains grounded, finding value in the relationships he built, and the lessons learned through adversity. His experiences reflect the resilience of those who serve, and his humility illustrates the profound effects of military service on individuals and the nation.