Forgotten Son:
A Top Gun – Maverick Side Story
"For Glen. Best of the Best!"
Jacob Lee Seresin had not bothered to delve further into his past...ever. He was the type of person who extremely loves to live in the moment.
From having been born in El Paso, Texas, to parents he never knew to growing up in a western Texas orphanage and eventually being adopted by an immigrant family (whose lineage was predominantly Italian, from Naples, with hints of Hungarian, Russian, Moroccan, Romani-Gypsy, Dutch, Polish, and German in their blood), things just couldn't be more bittersweet. Now, being one of the best fighter pilots in the United States Navy, young Jake is living the ultimate dream!
Throughout his childhood, Jake and his adoptive parents Marcelo and Carmella had moved around quite a bit, with their addresses varying throughout Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Oregon, and even California. He had a reputation for being that kid who would stand up to bullies to protect his friends, having been victimized several times in school throughout childhood himself. For that, ironically, he would develop quite an ego, murmuring to himself that he would be the best at everything he does moving forward into adulthood, a trait which would serve him well and, at the same time, become a bit of his own undoing in certain periods.
While a student at Socorro High School, he was the star of the school's wrestling, baseball, football, and soccer teams, taking them all the way to state-wide and southern regional championships. He was also a member of the Glee Club, Anime Club, and Academic Decathlon Team, and even took up NJROTC. This is where he discovered his passion for the military – From the shiny shoes and clean-pressed trousers, shirts, and mildly intimidating yet stoic combination caps to the structured formalities evoked via numerous commanding shouts, marching, parade, and rifle drills, Jake had found a home, rising to the occasion to eventually advance to the training unit's rank of Cadet Captain (C/CAPT).
Upon graduation (with a whopping 4.21), he was gravely caught up in a fork on the road – Enlist as a junior technician ranked E-3 (either a Private First Class in the US Army, Lance Corporal in the Marine Corps, Airman First Class in the Air Force, or an Airman in the Navy or Coast Guard) or even take up a Navy Reserve Officer Training Corps (NROTC) scholarship while going to university for four years (at the optimum). Forget the military academies – He didn't want to end up with a lifetime reputation of being a "Ring Knocker" or even put up with a "Militarized Prison Lifestyle" for four damn years! Seeing the life that a good number of his close friends went through after enlisting (i.e. getting treated like utter crap), he opted for the latter option. Making up his mind fully, young Jacob enrolled in Rice University (Houston), majoring in Sport Management and minoring in Music (Trumpet Option). Within his ROTC battalion, he rose to become midshipman battalion commander and head trumpeter of the music squad.
Come selection (before getting his degree), Future Ensign Seresin was overly elated to find out from his battalion commander that he was selected to become a Naval Aviator (in fact, the only one in his class to be so, as everyone else had been picked for either Surface Warfare/Ships, Submarines, EOD, Information Warfare, Intelligence, Civil Engineering/Seabees, and SEALs). His not-so-biological parents were proud of him, nonetheless.
Jake then got orders to Naval Air Station (NAS) Pensacola, Florida, where he would train to fly the T-34C Turbomentor propeller plane and study the basics of combat flight, Navy style. He had a knack for butting heads with instructors and fellow students alike. Despite his above average performance, he was selected for his 2nd choice – Strike Fighters, Jets, the slickest platform of them all. He had picked P-3C Orions (land-based, anti-submarine surveillance propeller aircraft) first on his own dream list, but unit recruiting officers from two opposing fighter training wings – Pacific Fleet/Lemoore and Atlantic Fleet/Oceana – had expressed hunger for more fighter pilots than usual. And, so, jets it is!
Jake then completed Advanced Strike Fighter Training at NAS Meridian, Mississippi, and received the coveted Naval Aviator "Wings of Gold," complete with a pair of wings, central shield, and one anchor predominantly covered by that same American shield. He received orders to the "Stingers" of Strike Fighter Squadron 113 (VFA-113), primarily based in NAS Lemoore. The squadron had previously been situated in NAS Oceana for a bit as part of transitioning from the Legacy F/A-18C Hornet to the newer, "shinier" F/A-18E Super Hornet.
LT Seresin then completed two cruises aboard two different carriers, USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70) and USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71), flying combat sorties over the skies of Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria. It was over the latter country where he would have his aerial "Baptism of Fire" - Following a training exercise one hot afternoon, on August 3, 2017, he and another wingman, LT Mick "V-Man" Voss, were called by TR's CIC to intercept two Syrian Air Force Su-25 Frogfoots that were headed to the strike group for a bombing run.
Jake and Mick wasted no time landing back to the carrier for hot-refueling and quick loading of necessary armament for air-to-air modification. Upon taking to the skies nearly 10 minutes later (at 1347hours), the duo headed out to intercept. At approximately 450 miles from the strike group, they initially tried to peacefully talk the enemy attack pilots out of the airspace but to no avail. The Syrian pilots suddenly chose to gamble on a high-stakes game of aerial tag and led the Hornet pilots on, with all of them performing a deathly array of Rolling Scissors and Immelmans at 20,000 feet. Jake pursued one, and Mick pursued the other.
In Jake's case, as he and his adversary climbed up to 22,700 ft, with both aircraft noses going up on a really steep 80-degree angle, he put his throttles to "Idle" and let the Frogfoot fly a good 50 feet relatively beneath and past his Killer Bee. He then assertively and aggressively pushed the stick for a 20-degree low pitch, quickly thumbed the "Guns" mode on the joystick and the "Master Arm" switch on the instrument panel, and let her rip: 100 rounds of bullets from the 20mm machine gun of the Bug tore through the Frogfoot, damaging its upper fuselage from front to back. Neither Jake nor Mick saw the pilot eject as it disintegrated into a giant fireball in the sky! The 2nd Frogfoot pilot broke off and went back to base to lament the loss of his friend and brother in arms.
Upon landing back to the TR, Jake felt the lightning-like surge run its course through his veins and disappear within seconds, invoking a great sense of deathlike euphoria, as if he had just loosened himself from the grasps of the Great Grim Reaper. A couple of days later, he stood in quarters on the ship's forecastle to be awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. By the end of that deployment, he was sent off to the coveted Navy Fighter Weapons School (a.k.a. TOPGUN) at NAS North Island (San Diego, California), where he would discover the daring feats of a certain former Lieutenant with a streak similar to his own – Peter "Maverick" Mitchell.
Nobody in his training class knew where this legendary aviator is now. After flying his F-14A Tomcat and downing three MiG-28's over the skies of the Indian Ocean, (supposedly) now-Captain Mitchell had chosen to stay away from the limelight.
Nevertheless, Jake just had to put two and two together on why he has the same traits as The Legend. Upon completion of his Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor (SFTI) course and designation as the F/A-18 Hornet Air-To-Air Combat Gunnery Expert, he took a month-long leave back to El Paso to reconnect with his adoptive parents and beloved best friends from middle school and high school.
The majority of them had since gone into civil service, engineering, and accounting, and every single one of them just couldn't help but revel in Jake's feats during that fateful day. They all went barhopping,ranching, and saw country music concerts and monster truck shows in town.
As the fun was coming to an end, it was time for Jake to sit down with Marcelo and Carmella for the greatest revelation of his life. On March 15, 2018, at their family home in the outskirts of El Paso, the three sat down in their living room, Jake facing his lifelong guardians.
"Jake, we have something to tell you," Marcelo started with a bit of hesitation.
"You see, we wanted to give this to you as soon as you came of age. But, somehow, we just weren't sure when the right time would be up until now," Carmella proceeded to add.
"Mom, Dad, what is this?" Jake asked with a quizzical look on his face.
"Son, we're not really your father and mother," Marcelo finally mustered up the courage to look at him sternly in the eye and tell him straight.
"We've been meaning to give this to you when the most appropriate time came," Carmella said as she took out a thick, folded paper from the breast pocket of her buttoned flannel shirt. She then offered the paper to Jake who partially leaned with hands covering the lower half of his face as in a somewhat of a
prayer motion.
Jake's heartbeat increased rapidly for a few seconds. Then, he took a big deep breath as he received the paper from Carmella.
Pausing for a bit, he then slowly unraveled the paper and apprehensively looked at it precisely deadcenter – It was his birth certificate, the real, legitimate one that does not list him as a "Seresin."
"Jacob Lee Mitchell
Date and Time of Birth: February 28, 1987, 4:30 P.M.
Place of Birth: Kindred Hospital, 1740 Curie Drive, El Paso, TX 79902
Father: Peter Evan Mitchell
Mother: Charlotte Jasmine Blackwood
Birth Weight: 6.5 lbs.
Presiding Midwife: Annette L. Carrington (signed and dated by Ms. Carrington the same day)"
"Oh, my God!" Jake softly screamed as he placed a hand over his mouth and started to sob. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?!"
"Like Mama already told you, we did not want you to be distracted by this sole fact as you went about life for a little over 30 years now, especially during crucial moments throughout your progression," Marcelo consoled his son. Despite not being of blood, he has loved Jake as his own, no matter what happened.
"Come closer, Sweetheart," Carmella softly said as she hugged Jake tightly, tears turning into waterfalls from his war-weary eyes. Marcelo moved in closer beside him and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder.
From that day on, things just drastically haven't been the same for the young lad everyone would come to know as "Hangman."
