“My very first operational strike took place on the morning of January 28th, 2013, precisely at 6:49 a.m.,” Tanner Yackley recounted to Business Insider reporter Maggie Cai during a recent in-depth conversation. He explained that the mission ultimately targeted a remote cave, a location seemingly cut off from civilization, where a small number of individuals had gathered and were identified as the objective. Reflecting on that moment, he described a setting both surreal and isolating, one that marked the beginning of a long and complex chapter in his military career.
Yackley had joined the United States Air Force in 2010 when he was just eighteen years old, driven by a mixture of youthful purpose and patriotic duty. His service—spanning eight rigorous years before his discharge in 2018—was defined by an intense involvement in drone operations, a field that demands technical precision and emotional discipline in equal measure. In the extended interview featured in Business Insider’s video series *Authorized Account*, he recalled the thoughts racing through his mind during that first strike. His focus, he said, was consumed entirely by the mechanics and technical execution of his task—the operational parameters, the targeting process, the weapon’s performance. There was little room, at least in that instant, to dwell on the moral gravity of the situation. As he admitted, there was not a conscious thought of taking a life—only the pressing demands of ensuring that his actions aligned perfectly with procedure and precision.
Over the course of his tenure in the Air Force, Yackley accumulated more than 3,000 combat hours as a drone sensor operator. Stationed in the United States and serving as a staff sergeant, he spent countless shifts within operations centers, remotely controlling unmanned systems that flew missions across the globe. His window to these distant battlefields came in the form of live video feeds—high-definition images that delivered both power and detachment. The irony of the role, he observed, is that while physically far removed from danger, operators are simultaneously immersed in it, making instantaneous decisions with enormous real-world consequences.
Yackley acknowledged that the public often misunderstands what drone operations truly entail. Contrary to the widespread assumption that the work resembles a video game, he emphasized that this notion could not be further from reality. In a video game, mistakes carry no irreversible outcomes; in his position, every decision could determine whether people lived or died. “You’re making life-and-death calls every single day,” he explained, underscoring the immense weight of responsibility that hung over each mission. No simulation or entertainment medium, he added, could ever prepare someone for the profound mental and ethical challenges intrinsic to this kind of warfare, nor could any virtual experience replicate the constant pressure to perform at the highest level of precision and judgment.
When he looked back at himself in 2013, Yackley admitted that he had little understanding of how deeply the job was affecting him. The experience was quietly shaping his outlook, his emotions, and even his sense of identity, though he couldn’t grasp it at the time. The Air Force, for its part, declined to provide an official comment to Business Insider regarding Yackley’s account.
After nearly a decade of service, the cumulative toll became undeniable. Yackley ultimately reached a point of exhaustion—physical, mental, and emotional. “At that point, my body was just tapped,” he said candidly. “I couldn’t do that work anymore.” His fatigue was not caused solely by the intense emotional strain of the missions themselves but was compounded by the relentless structure of his working life. He belonged to a team operating on continuous, 24-hour coverage, split among three rotating groups, each working eight-hour shifts. Every seven weeks, the rotation would change, ensuring that no one team remained permanently on the midnight schedule; however, the constant adjustment wreaked havoc on his body’s internal rhythm.
He described the cycle as grueling—a slow erosion of normal rest patterns and personal stability. Before each shift change, Yackley found himself staying awake later and later, attempting to prepare his body for the new schedule. Over time, this irregular sleep routine severely disrupted his health and concentration. Sleep deprivation became a constant, unavoidable companion. His experiences mirror a broader systemic issue: according to the Department of Defense’s 2018 Health Related Behaviors Survey, roughly 64.3% of active-duty personnel fail to obtain the recommended seven hours of sleep each night. Scientific studies further suggest that chronic sleep loss can heighten vulnerability to conditions such as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), a reality Yackley himself has come to live with and acknowledge.
Life after the military brought new challenges—and a new awareness of how deeply his service had affected his personal world. Pictured with his service dog, Hawk, trained to assist him in managing PTSD symptoms, Yackley spoke with unflinching honesty about the personal costs of his profession. “To be frank,” he said, “being a drone operator has taken a serious toll on my life—on my family, on my relationships, on my ability to connect.” The isolation he felt was not only emotional but social. He explained that maintaining friendships and family ties became increasingly difficult, as few people could truly relate to the complexities of his experience. Even well-meaning conversations with friends and loved ones often became counterproductive, he explained, because unless someone had physically sat in the same operational seat, experiencing the same silent weight of responsibility, genuine understanding was nearly impossible. Attempts to empathize could unintentionally hurt more than they helped; what he needed, he found, was simple support and presence rather than attempted comparison.
In May, channelling his experiences into a constructive mission, Yackley founded *Remote Warrior*, an organization dedicated to advocating for and spreading awareness about the mental health struggles unique to drone operators and other remote combat personnel. Despite the burdens he carries, he remains proud of his service and the decisions he made while in uniform. He emphasized that he never defied or questioned orders and that every mission he participated in targeted individuals involved in harmful actions. “They were still targets at the end of the day,” he stated firmly. “They were still doing bad things.” His reflections reveal a complicated intersection of duty, justification, and humanity—capturing the moral tension of modern warfare conducted from behind a screen, yet felt deeply within the heart.
Sourse: https://www.businessinsider.com/former-air-force-drone-sensor-operator-video-games-grueling-hours-2025-10
