Shuri Gate
by
Herb Blanchard
Shuri Gate
by Herb Blanchard
Copyright 2011 Herb Blanchard
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicate to the people I served with in the US Air Force in particular the tanker crew chiefs and flight crews who shared with me the experiences fictionalized here.
Also the people of Okinawa who always made me feel welcome and made me look forward to each new trip to the island.
BOOK DESCRIPTION
Shuri Gate is a fictional memoir of the author’s tours in Asia particularly on the island of Okinawa while serving in the US Air Force as a KC135 tanker crew chief.
It is the story of the relationship and eventual marriage of an inter-racial couple on the island. Tomako is Okinawan by birth and has lost her first true love in Vietnam. She is carrying his child with a very grim future to look forward to. She then meets and falls in love with Rick Davis a tanker crew chief who is flying combat missions in Southeast Asia.
Rick’s tours are typical for a tanker crew chief that can and does produce stress for Tomi as well as his Air Force family.
ONE
The flight from Anderson AFB, on the island of Guam, was unusually smooth. The sun was moving low on the western horizon and the few clouds on the far horizon were starting to turn pink and orange.
Sitting in the instructor pilot's seat behind the two pilots was the KC135's,( tail number 56-3653), crew chief Sgt. Rick Davis looking through the pilot's windshield. Over the intercom the navigator had just announced that the green glow on the horizon ahead of them was the island of Okinawa.
The changing colors of the South China Sea were the first things that drew Rick's attention. The dark blue of deep water became just a bit lighter blue before changing to green with a touch here and there of blue under white capped breakers which were starting to form running across the island's coral barrier reefs and golden sand flats.
This was Rick's first trip across the Pacific and to the islands where the flight crews had spent the past two nights. From Castle AFB in California, where each of the five tankers had picked up four F4 Phantoms to escort to a base in Thailand. The first RON had been Hickam AFB on Oahu. The next stop had been Anderson AFB on the island of Guam from where they had departed this afternoon at about 1500 hours. Tonight they would RON at Kadena AFB on the island of Okinawa.
Tuesday morning, 07/04/67, the five tankers made a round trip to Utapao RTNAB where they left their F4 chicks, refueled, and returned to Kadena AFB. The trip back to Kadena had been uneventful. Actually it had been a short day.
"Show time will be 0800 in the morning. Your tanker will pick up three F4s off the coast of Thailand. You won't be going into UT (Utapao) this trip since the chicks will be coming from Udorn which is deeper in Thailand. It will save you from having to refuel before coming back to Kadena." The Major from operations briefed 3653's flight crew. Then turned to the aircraft's crew chief to bring him up to date. "Check with the flightline super, but if your tanker is ready to go you should be able to take the rest of the day off."
Rick wasn't sure that he was very happy about sitting on Kadena AFB for three or four more days. There had been some kind of SNAFU in Thailand with the fighters that 3653, was supposed to rendezvous with this morning. Flight operations had got the word to him that his tanker's planned mission had been cancelled. It would be at least 48 hours if not longer, before the fighters would be ready to leave Udorn RTAFB and he could take the next two days off. But to check-in with them on Saturday, 08 July at 0800 and they might have a takeoff day and time for him.
Not having any particular place to be or go to, Rick hung around the flightline and helped the other crew chiefs get their tankers ready to leave for the coast of Thailand to pickup their chicks. They would each pick up four fighters and return to Okinawa in the late afternoon. Tomorrow they would leave Okinawa with their chicks to start island hopping back to CONUS. Their next RON would be the island of Guam. Reversing their flight plans from their incoming flights.
Rick closed up 3653 and started to walk across the ramp when the flightline supervisor's pickup pulled up behind him. Rick turned, and though the early morning sun was hitting the truck's windshield, there was something familiar about the driver. The truck creeped up along side of him and Rick stopped, looked into the truck's cab in mild disbelief.
"What in hell are you doing here?" Rick's former boss from the flightline on Loring AFB hollered at him. Bob Kruse, was now a Master Sergeant and obviously a tanker flightline supervisor.
"I was about to ask you the same question. Is SAC so hard up that they send old men overseas now? Or did Cheryl get tired of you hanging around the house and make you go TDY?"
"You haven't changed a damn bit have you?" Kruse declared as he stepped out of the pickup and the old, close friends hugged each other. "Damn, I'm glad to see you Rick. How did you manage to get your own tanker so soon?"
"Your fine letter of recommendation seemed to carry a little weight with the folks at Fairchild. The almost four years that I spent on ground crew at Loring AFB in the sunny and warm climate of Limestone, Maine also seemed to help. Another fact is they have 26 tankers and had only five fully qualified crew chiefs who they felt comfortable giving a tanker to put their name on. I made number 6.
"You asked for Fairchild AFB on the West Coast and tankers when you reenlisted. Correct?"
"Yeah. I thought I would enjoy flying on them after spending so long learning how great these airplanes are.
How did you end up here Bob?"
"They're scraping the bottom of the barrel I guess. One morning I went to work and they gave me a choice.
'Kruse', the Major said. 'I can offer you the best and the worst in TDYs. You pick, because you are going.
First is; Anderson AFB with the BUFFS;(Big Ugly Fat Fuckers. B52s) or second; Kadena AFB with the tankers. The choice, as I said is yours.'
"Major, do I look stupid to you? When is the next plane for Okinawa?
Here I am. Actually, I've been to both places before, and I have worked on BUFFS. They're always broken and you stay up all one night and all the next day in order for them to fly the that night. And I'm getting too old for that 24 hour shift crap. Besides Guam is a bit less civilized than Okinawa."
"So what’s the skinny with me and 3653, Bob? How come these other tankers are leaving and we get to stick around?"
"I didn't think that you would mind after you knew I was here. Give us a chance to visit.
The truth of the matter is that three of the F4s that you were going to rendezvous with this morning are broke. Udorn didn't get the word to have them ready to leave today. So all three flew missions yesterday. The pilots need down time and two of the aircraft need phase inspections before they'll let them fly across the pond. (The Pacific Ocean to the tanker flight crews). The third took some antiaircraft rounds and barely limped back into Udorn on a wing and a prayer with a wounded backseater."
"Under those circumstances Bob, I think that I'll wait around for a day or two before I head for home.
When are you off? Can we get together today?"
"Hell, yes. I only came in to get your buddies out of here and find you. Today is my day off. So jump in and I'll drop you at the VBOQ then I'll go change. I'll meet you there as soon as I can and we'll head for Naha."
TWO
"We'll grab the base shuttle bus to the Highway #1 gate. There we can catch a sukoshi cab for Naha. It's the biggest city on the island and has some great shopping and coffee houses. The Kokusai Coffee House is my favorite. It has no "A" sign which means that GIs aren't supposed to go there, but I do anyway. A few GIs wander in and out but few stay very long or come back. The coffee house doesn't have any girls hanging around so the average GI isn't going to get laid in there."
"I can't believe that you're breaking regulations, Bob. You, a newly created master sergeant. Married with two kids. What is this world coming to?"
"It's not as bad as it seems from first impressions. Most of the coffee houses are cool places and the Kokusai is a big step above the average so it never attracts the attention of the RASP (Ryukuian Armed Services Police). Besides, I've seen couples in there which I'm very sure are higher on the food chain than the average young lieutenant, with women whom I am sure are their girl friends and/or mistresses. I heard that some of the women are single, civilian school teachers from the states and working for the Department of Defense in the military base schools.
You know, military politics. Besides, the girl or I should say woman, who manages the coffee house is a real doll. Very friendly and nice."
"Are you flirting with her, Bob? I have a hard time believing that. Maybe I should call Cheryl and tell her to catch the next plane for Okinawa because her Bob is getting horny and falling in love?"
"You shithead. No. I'm not hitting on her, nor am I so horny that I'm thinking about getting laid."
"Cool it Sergeant. I'm only jerking your chain. I know you better than that."
"Sorry Rick. I may be looking a little too closely. and thinking a bit too much about them so I’m having some feelings of guilt. But after a TDY here of a month or two with all these nice looking women around and not playing touchy-feel is hard work.
This is the gate. We'll catch one of those little pink cabs that you can see outside the gate."
"I don't think those two guys next to those yellow taxis like GIs very much. Did you see the looks they gave us when we didn't take their taxi, Bob? How come we took this taxi instead?"
"These pink cabs are owned by the drivers and they take pride in being trustworthy and honest. The others are hired drivers and some, not all mind you, but some of them will rip you off by overcharging or taking the long way around. I heard that some are stealie boys who find out where an American lives off base and then burglarize their houses.
This is Kokusai Dori. Kokusai Street to us round eyes." Bob declared. "The Kokusai Coffee House is down these stairs." Bob said as he turned and started down a narrow, but clean and well-lit set of stairs.
Above them Rick saw the sign which was barely two feet long. It was written in Japanese characters except for a small line of English script underneath which read 'KOKUSAI COFFEE HOUSE'. On the end of the plain wooden sign was a small arrow pointing down the stairs.
Rick almost stumbled into Bob who had stopped after entering the reception area to take off his sunglasses. After the bright Okinawan sunlight, the dim interior of the coffee house was a shock.
"Sorry. I can't see very much in here." Rick said as he took off his sunglasses. "That helps." And he continued to look around.
"Me neither, just let your eyes get used to it."
Rick heard a faint, quiet giggle at the same time as he felt her presence.
"Would you like a table? How about over on that side?"
He could see her more clearly now and nodded that her choice of table was fine. She walked away, gracefully sidestepping between tables and led them to a table almost all the way in the back and against the far wall.
Rick had watched her and became more aware of her physical presence when she moved around the table and offered him a menu half the size of a piece of typing paper. She's barely 5 foot tall, maybe 25 years old. Rick thought as he sat in the chair facing the coffee house's entrance. He watched her walk away. Sexy walk, cute butt.
"That's the woman I told you about. Great figure and speaks very good English."
"Did you by any chance notice the rings on her left hand Master Sergeant? A rock big enough to choke you.
Do the Japanese use rings like we do? If so, I would say that she is very married."
"I wasn't suggesting that you hit on her, Rick. I just think that she is very nice to look at, has a great personality and is very pregnant."
"You're kidding me?"
"I'm a happily married man with two children. I know a pregnant woman when I see one."
"But she's so tiny. Her waist is small enough for me to put both hands around. You're putting me on, Bob."
Rick studied her as she came back to their table with two glasses of water. Her raven black hair had a healthy shine. She wore it almost shoulder length and her bangs touched the upper arch of her eyebrows. She realized that Rick was watching her and smiled. Her whole face lit up, except for her beautiful dark brown, slightly almond shaped eyes which held a hint of sadness.
"Is everything alright?" She hesitated and Rick thought that she was waiting for an answer.
"Yeah. It's fine, can I have a cup of black coffee, please? You want the same, Bob?"
"Coffee will be fine, thanks."
As the girl turned to walk away Rick spoke up. "Miss umm, Ma'am. Do you have something like sweet rolls or doughnuts?
What is your name? I can't call you Ma'am. You're too young for that. I feel like I'm talking to my mother."
"You can call me Tomako, or Tomi. Or Mama-san." She added smiling and almost laughing at him, but the sadness remained in her eyes.
"We have some plain cake doughnuts that you might like. An American friend showed the cook how to make them. We can put cinnamon and sugar on them if you would like."
"Two. I would like two with cinnamon and sugar. How about you Bob?"
"Sounds good to me. Two for me also."
After Tomi had turned and started away from their table, Kruse spoke up.
"You're flirting with her Rick."
"No I'm not. I like her and I'm being friendly."
"Okay. If you say so. Married and baby. Remember those two important things Rick."
"Yes Daddy." Rick smiled and together the two friends laughed quietly.
Kruse sipped his hot coffee and looked across the table at Rick. "What's with you and your assistant crew chief? You didn't invite him along today. In fact I haven't even seen him. Where was he this morning?"
"He wasn't on the flightline." Rick answered.
"No kidding? Really? I thought that he was the invisible man." Kruse said sarcastically. "Facts time. Where is he?"
Rick met his friend's eyes as he thought for a few seconds. He wanted to be truthful, but not burn the kid's bridges for him. From what Rick could see his assistant was doing a good job of that on his own. "He was passed out in his bunk. He stayed out until sometime just before I went out to the aircraft. He was too drunk to be on the flightline so I put him in his sack."
"You going to allow him to drag you down with him, Rick?"
"No. There's a story and history in this whole thing that I wanted to work out before I had to turn him in."
"How would you have covered for him if you had to fly this morning? There's supposed to be two crew chiefs on the aircraft."
Rick watched Tomi walk towards them bringing their doughnuts and more coffee.
Oh Jesus. She is a beautiful woman. He thought and hurriedly looked down at his coffee cup when she met his eye and a quizzical look crossed her soft features.
"Thank you, Tomi." Bob said as she placed their doughnuts on the table and started to refill their coffee cups.
"Do itashimashite." She answered. Then smiled at the blank look on each of the faces before her. "You are welcome, it is my pleasure."
Tomi met Rick's eyes before asking, "You have not been on Okinawa or in Japan before, neh?"
She has a beautiful voice.
"This is my first time. In fact today is the first day that I have been off base. My friend though, has been here for a long time, but he's a slow learner."
"Thanks Rick. I'll tell my own story."
"Yes, you have been here before with another older sergeant from Naha."
"Your right, Tomi. I visited a friend who is stationed at Naha AFB and he brought me here twice before. I'm stationed at Kadena AFB and don't get off base very often. You knew he was from Naha?"
"I used to be a cashier at the Naha NCO club. I remember him from there." Tomi answered.
Tomi was barely away from the table when Kruse spoke. "So what would you have done?"
Told the truth. Tell as it was. Rick thought.
"He was too drunk. So I left him in the barracks."
"He lives in the barracks, not in the VBOQ with the flight crew?"
"None of the assistants are in the VBOQ. And that is one of his many problems. Listen Bob, a lot of what is going on is the result of bad judgments from some of Fairchild's NCOs. The kid is barely 19 years old and has only been in the Air Force for 20 or 21 months. Only 10 of which has been spent on tankers. He thought he would inherit 3653 when its long time crew chief transferred out to Eielson AFB in Fairbanks. Instead I got the aircraft. He isn't ready, nor qualified for an aircraft of his own. But they never told him that. He was kind of ignored and to rub salt in the wound, they left him with me, on the tanker that he thought should have been his."
"So 'Mr. Nice Guy' is back to his old tricks of covering for the walking wounded. Sounds like Loring all over again. Almost losing your stripes by covering for an alkie, that didn't cure you? Damn Rick, stop doing that shit. I won't always be around to cover your bleeding heart. Now, answer my question. What would you have done if you had had to fly this morning?"
“Been screwed I guess. Or take you with me." Rick laughed at the look of disbelief on his friend's face.
"What kind of answer is that? You know damn well that I'm not on flying status. So?" Kruse raised his eyebrows in question.
"I would have been screwed if the flight crew complained."
"Yeah you would have been. Worse if somebody had found out that you were covering for him."
"Okay. I hear you. So what do I do? I can sober him up and babysit him until we get back to Fairchild. Then what?"
"I'll get the squadron to send a complaint on him to Fairchild and basically blackball him from the island. Their reaction should be to take him off flying status so he won't be able to crew."
"All right. Sounds workable. But I need to keep an eye on him for the next couple of days."
"I can help you with that, Rick. Where does he drink on the island?"
"I'm not sure. He was TDY on the island for a few days a couple of months ago and has been talking about some bar where he has a girl and he can get laid for nothing. Last night we barely got the tanker parked and he was gone out the gate. Never even changed out of his flight gear."
"Enough about him. Let's go and I'll show you black market alley. You're going to need a couple of light weight wash and wear shirts and at least one more pair of wash and wear pants."
"Yes Mommy. Can I pick them out?"
"You are such a wise ass. Say goodbye to Tomi while I hit the latrine."
"You sticking me with the bill?"
"I paid for the taxi and if you behave yourself I'll buy you lunch."
THREE
Rick slept-in on Friday morning. About 0900 he slipped on a pair of pants and a shirt so he could go down to the lobby of the VBOQ to find a cup or two of coffee.
This is going to be a long day unless I get off of the base and go exploring. Bob thinks that I ought to go back to Naha and hit the shops and stores on Kokusai Dori some more. May not be a bad idea.
"Morning, Sarge. Need some coffee this morning?" The NCO in-charge-of-quarters in the VBOQ asked Rick. "Help yourself."
"I sure do, thanks."
"MSgt. Kruse left a message for you earlier.", the NCO said as he handed Rick an envelope.
I know I don't want to read this. Rick thought as he finished pouring a cup of coffee and walked to a sitting room off of the lobby. He eased himself down into an easy chair fingering the envelope. I know that little shit headed assistant of mine has done something else.
Finally giving in, he ripped the end off the envelope and extracted a single sheet of paper. Slowly he unfolded it.
"Morning. Have a good sleep?" He read.
"Good news first. Got the word this A.M. You'll fly to Thailand at 1000 hrs. tomorrow, Saturday. Preflight is at your discretion. Knowing you, I'll pick you up at the snack bar at 0800.
You'll RON back here until Monday morning, then leave for Guam.
The not so good news . . . I cannot, repeat . . . , cannot find your assistant. He isn't in the barracks. Left after we talked to him at 2200 last night. The flightline night shift talked to him at the aircraft about 2300. Said he had to pickup some clothes We can deal with that tomorrow. I left word at the barracks for him to be at preflight at 0800 tomorrow.
So after that, enjoy your day off. Bob K."
Rick refilled his cup before heading back upstairs to get dressed.
The hell with it. I'm going to go shopping and explore Naha.
I know damn well that he's with his girlfriend. That's where he went when he left the flightline. She got off at the bar at 0200 and he went home with her.
It was a barely after 1000 when Rick got into the first pink sukoshi cab in the line at Kadena gate #1 and tried to remember what Kruse had told the taxi drivers yesterday.
"Naha. Kokusai Dori, Dozo." He knew that he wasn't pronouncing the words correctly, but thought, What the hell, I think he understood me.
The driver, an Okinawan in his mid thirties smiled, checked out Rick in the rearview mirror before speaking.
"First time on Okinawa?" He asked in perfect, but not accent free English.
Rick laughed. "That obvious? This is my second day on the island."
Encouraged by the smile he received in the rearview mirror again, Rick added. "This is a nice place. I'm enjoying it."
"Are you going to Kokusai Dori to shop, yeah?"
“Yes. Exploring."
"Not chasing nesans?"
"What?" Baffled. Rick didn't have a clue to what he was being asked.
"Nesans are girls. If you want a woman you should go to Noumanoui, or BC Street in Koza."
"Those are the bar areas?" Rick asked the driver.
"Hai. Sorry. That means yes, or that I agree with you. That's where the "A" sign bars and girls are for the GIs.
There are a lot of nice girls anywhere that you can find them on the island, besides in the bars."
"I think that Okinawa is like anywhere. There are nice people and not so nice people all over." Rick volunteered.
"Yes. The Okinawans are more laid back than many people. They are not like the Japanese. Way more laid back and easier to get along with."
"I thought that you, the Okinawans I mean, are Japanese?"
"Only by political boundaries. We speak Japanese, but we also have our own language. There are a lot of mixed relationships and marriages though. Also a lot of Japanese people who live on the island."
"You're English is very good. How come?"
The driver laughed quietly. "I should hope. In 1936 I went to Maui with my family. My mother and father went to work in the sugar cane fields. So I was educated there."
"You came back to Okinawa though."
"I missed the island and my relatives. It's a different way of life. As soon as they would let me, after the war ended, I brought all of my family back. I wanted my mother and father to live out their lives here on the land that they loved.
I have cousins in Brazil. They went there in the mid 1940s. During the war when the Japanese military took over the Island.”
“They didn’t come back?”
“No. There is like an Okinawan colony of farmers there who are very successful and bought their land so they stay.”
Both men were quiet for a long time. Rick was busy looking at the flow of traffic and many different types of businesses that lined Highway #1. He was intrigued and somewhat intimidated by the traffic patterns. The mix of US military vehicles, jeeps, pickups, cargo trucks, tractors and trailers and sedans intermingled with civilian construction vehicles, three wheeled trucks, small 50cc motorcycles all jockeying for their share of the two south bound lanes of the road.
"Is the traffic always like this?" Rick asked.
"No. it changes. Gets really heavy late in the afternoon. At dinner time."
"You're saying it gets worse?"
"Yeah, I guess I am.
Where on Kokusai Dori do you want to go?"
"You know the Kokusai Coffee House?"
"Sure. Kind of a quiet place. No girls."
"Yeah I know. I just want a good cup of coffee and an American doughnut."
"To each his own. It's just in the next block. I'll drop you at the corner."
"Thanks."
Rick had no idea why he had stopped at the coffee house. Although thoughts of Tomi had flashed through his mind several times in the last 24 hours. She's married and not available. And if Bob is correct, very pregnant.
"Ohayo gozaimasu." A large older Okinawan woman greeted Rick when he entered the coffee house.
"Hi." Rick looked around quickly. The woman was the only person in the area of the tiny reception area. A feeling of disquiet and disappointment passed through his mind. She's not here. Day off? Wouldn't that just be my luck. What did she ask me?
"Dozo please, this way to a table." The older woman had a friendly smile and moved with a lot of grace for a large woman as she led him to the same far back corner where he and Bob had drank their coffee yesterday.
As Rick pulled out a chair, the woman laid the small menu on the table in front of him. She started to turn away, thought better of it and turned back to Rick. "Tomako will be with you in a minute. Would you like kohi?"
"What? Oh, coffee? Yes. Please. Black. Please."
She grinned as she turned away.
So she is here. Rick's feeling of disappointment slide away replaced with a feeling of pleasure. He was going to see her after all.
Rick watched for her and saw Tomi when she came out of the short hallway behind the reception area carrying a cup of coffee and a small dish. He enjoyed the pleasure of watching her as she walked gracefully towards his table. She had on a light blue skirt that came to just below her knees and when she swiveled her hips between the tables, he realized the skirt was tight across a shapely butt and thighs.
Tomi set the cup of coffee down gently in front of him. "I brought you a doughnut. With cinnamon and sugar. You would like it, neh?" Meeting Rick's eyes for just a second before looking away, she set the plate with the doughnut next to his cup of coffee.
"You remembered?"
"Yes. You and your tomodachi, gomen, sorry, your friend, enjoyed them yesterday more than anybody ever has. You are hard to forget." She continued to smile but looked down at the table top.
Rick looked down at her left hand to verify that her rings were really there and that in fact she was wearing them. Oh well, still there. They weren't a figment of my imagination.
"You are alone today?" Where is your tomodachi, your friend?"
"He has to work and I only have today to see more of Okinawa so here I am exploring Naha."
"You are leaving? You are Air Force, neh?"
"Yes. I fly on tankers. And I'm flying tomorrow to Thailand then home to the states."
"Can I get you anything else?" Tomi asked in her quiet, soft voice.
"Thanks. I'm fine. I'll drink this then go spend some money on Kokusai Dori."
On the taxi ride back to Kadena, Rick was relaxed and a bit tired. He had explored a good share of Naha. He had even hiked up Shuri Hill to the Shuri Castle gate but was disappointed that there was some kind of building near the gate, but no castle there. He let his mind drift and an image of Tomi slide in place. He remembered her graceful movements as she walked away after their short conversation. When he left the coffee house she was sitting at the table close to the entrance and barely noticed or responded to him as he left.
FOUR
It was 2200 Friday. Rick and Bob Kruse were leaving the NCO club after a late dinner and sitting around drinking Cokes while listening to a Filipino group singing current rock and roll songs in almost perfect English.
"They weren't bad. Never run the 5th Dimension or the Mamas and the Papas off a stage though."
"At least entertaining." Rick answered.
They were both avoiding the inevitable.
"Did you find him or hear from him all day?" Rick asked.
"No. Did you?"
"I checked his room when I came back from Naha. He had been there. One of the guys from down the hall saw him."
"Sure it was him?"
"Yeah, pretty sure. He's kind of weird and stands out for that reason. One of these guys who people can't forget. An Airman 1st from the tire shop saw him about 1400 or 1430. Says he remembers him from the tanker. They met us to change a tire when we landed. Then I checked his room again before I met you. Guess we better swing by his room now and then since he won't be there, hope he shows for preflight in the morning."
"Okay. He's your assistant. So it's your call until you holler 'uncle'. Just remember Rick, don't stick your neck out for him again. If he misses the preflight tomorrow we write him up. Got it?"
The two NCOs walked away from the enlisted barracks before separating at the next intersection.
"Hopefully he'll show up for preflight," MSgt. Kruse spoke over his shoulder as he walked away from Rick.
"I'll meet you at 0800 at the snack bar." Kruse said and waved as he started up the sidewalk towards the front entrance to the Senior NCO barracks.
"You made it? I was debating with the flightline chief on whether you got the word to be here, and if you got the word, if you would be here on time."
"No sweat Sarge. I always make it. I'm never late for duty."
"That's a pretty wild statement since you showed up drunk for preflight Thursday."
"We didn't have to preflight. And we didn't fly so what difference did it make?"
"That's alright. We'll let it stand at that for now. When we get back to Fairchild I'll make a decision to whether I want you as an assistant or not."
"I've been on this tanker longer than you, and you want to kick me off?" The assistant asked with a bit of a sneer.
Rick smiled. Tried to make eye contact with his assistant who quickly looked away. "Unless you can show me that you're as good an assistant crew chief as you think you are. Can lay off the hooch. Always show up for preflight on time and sober. In other words, pull your weight as a crew chief, I’ll consider letting you stay on 3653."
With that Rick got up and headed for the door leading to the ramp where the flight chief's pickup had just pulled up.
"You coming or do you want to walk a mile or so out to the tanker?"
Rick studied his assistant's face and his changing facial expressions, especially when he didn't think Rick was watching him.
Okay. You're through. Behave yourself until we get to Fairchild and I'll let you down easy. Screw with me and you'll end up signing enlisted men into the barracks and handing out blankets. Rick thought as he climbed into the front seat of Kruse's pickup.
"How'd it go?" Kruse asked him.
"His ass is grass as the expression goes. I just hope that he doesn't try to screw me on the way back to Fairchild."
"It isn't too late for me to replace him and send him back to Fairchild on another tanker. As a passenger." Kruse emphasized.
"Let me do it my way, Okay? I don't want to destroy him. He's no dummy and has potential of being an acceptable part of a basic post flight crew. Maybe not great, but a good one. But he has a real attitude problem that's going to have to change.”
"What you're saying is that he isn't one of those lower test score airman that they've dumped on us."
"Exactly. I did some snooping. He isn't on that list, but who is on it might surprise you. It scared the hell out of me when I found out there are at least three of them working on the Fairchild tanker flightline. I now service my own liquid oxygen, check my own hydraulic fluids and engine oil."
"Are you paranoid?"
"I don't think so. Just cautious. Remember, I'm flying on that bird."
This has been a good day. Rick thought as he talked to the pilot on the intercom.
They were still about two hundred miles out of Okinawa and had topped off their three chick's fuel tanks a few minutes ago. Now the F4s were highballing at jet fighter speed for Kadena's runway.
"I don't know of anything that we want to put in the forms Chief. You got the tire with the flat spot on it changed as soon as we landed at Kadena. That was the only write-up for the whole trip so far." The pilot had reassured Rick.
Not bad for a an eleven year old airplane, Rick thought as he put the forms away.
"I'll try to find out from the command post when we'll leave Kadena. They were talking about not leaving until Monday the tenth."
"Did they ever give you a reason for their thinking, Sir?"
"No. That's what gives me hope that they'll change their minds and we'll leave in the morning. They had better, I have a hot date lined up for Wednesday night. I can make it if we leave tomorrow."
The nav came up on the intercom just as the pilot turned 3653 onto final approach for Kadena’s runway 5.
"That was the CP on the horn. Wheels up at 1000 hours tomorrow morning. Seems like the F4 jockeys pitched a bitch about a layover. They want to get home to their mamas.”
The crew was standing at 3653's nose waiting for a ride to the command post for a quick debriefing. The aircraft commander, a thirty something pilot who had flown C7s in Vietnam, and not very rank conscious spoke to Rick. "Hey Rick, can we help close her up so you can get off?"
"Thanks. I'm okay. I'm going to run a quick post flight and make sure we didn't break anything today then I can leave. The ground crew will refuel her and fill the water tank later tonight."
"Okay. Then we'll meet you in the VBOQ. We're going to BC Street for dinner. You're welcome to join us."
"If you don't mind waiting for me, Sir. I'd like that. But it will be a little while."
"We'll wait for you."
FIVE
Rick turned over and looked at his watch in the dim light of the Anderson AFB transit barracks. He had been uncomfortable and restless all night. He and his assistant crew chief ate a late supper in the enlisted club then had turned in about 2300 hours. They had an early wheels up, 0800 hours so they would be well ahead of a tropical storm which was charging up through typhoon alley in the Philippine Sea headed in the general direction of Guam and threatening to turn into a low grade typhoon.
Damn 0430. Might as well get up. Go preflight then get coffee and some breakfast before the crew shows up. Check on my infantile assistant and be sure he's in bed and not downtown drinking.
He eased the door open to the assistant's room far enough to see that he was sleeping soundly and hopefully stone cold sober.
The air was warm and sticky with humidity. There was a faint scent of tropical flowers and wet jungle that always seemed to hang in Guam's atmosphere. The ramp and distant runway had patches of wet from the intermittent rain showers that had scurried across the island during the night. Rick strolled down the side of the ramp half wishing that a flightline vehicle would show up and give him a ride to 3653 even though he knew the walk was good for him. He figured that it was less than two miles out to the tanker and he only had his AWOL bag to carry having left the rest of his gear locked up in his crew chief box on the tanker .
When he pulled the latch down on the crew entry door it swung open fast and almost whacked him on the head. Not really thinking about the door, Rick swung up onto the entry ladder and reaching the cockpit deck threw his AWOL bag back towards the cargo compartment.
That was weird. I better check the tail stand and make sure everything is okay and this old bird isn't trying to stand on her tail for some reason. He thought as an after thought and went back down the ladder.
The nose landing gear strut on 3653 was alright and the tail stand which prevented the tanker from sitting on her tail, was well below the red painted line, within bounds for a heavily loaded tanker.
I don't get it. Rick stood on the ground under the crew entry door and pushed the door partially closed. The door swung back fully opened as soon as he let go of it. That damn door feels heavy. How can the entry door feel heavy? It's a hollow, aluminum skinned door.
Rick moved the door back and forth several times as he thought about it. In the beam of his flashlight he studied the interior side of the door. In particular the access panel that allowed access to the latch locking mechanism and hinges.
The paint on the access panel's screws look like they've been out recently. I'll swear that they hadn't been taken out since the door was repainted.
After going up into the tanker to get some tools, Rick removed the access panel screws. Carefully he pulled the panel free from the door.
A flight jacket?
Wrapped in the flight jacket and stuck in the jacket's sleeves, Rick counted 8 bottles of rum from the Guam duty free store.
He didn't want to remove the jacket and bottles from their hiding place in the door, but he did want to know for sure whose jacket it was. Carefully he lifted the jacket up so he could roll it enough to see the name tag sewed onto the left breast.
C.D. BARNES was on the embroidered name tag.
"SHIT!" Never would I have thought he was that smart, or stupid enough to try to do this.
As he was replacing everything as he had found them, Rick thought about what to do.
No way can I say anything now. If I turn him in, Customs could hold the aircraft and the whole crew here or at Hickam AFB until they sort out everything. The F4 crews will have to wait for another tanker and crew to get them home. A week or more sitting around? No way is that fair.
Try to get back to Fairchild and let customs and the air police take care of him then?
May work. Chances are that I can open and close the door and keep the chances of anybody figuring something is wrong to a minimum. If I have to, I can tell the boomer. Jeff won't say anything if I explain it all to him. Only if I have to.
Satisfied that he could carry it off, Rick finished closing up the access panel and put his tools away.
Several times when he had a chance to reminisce in his mind about his stay on Okinawa, Rick thought about a very pretty, but very married woman who didn't even give him much more than the couple of cups of coffee and doughnuts that he had to pay for. He thought about her shy smile and being a young male, her trim body, firm butt and thighs he had watched when she walked away from him.
She was who he was thinking about while he was standing in a snack bar phone booth just off of the Castle AFB flightline. He only had a few minutes to make the call and grab something to eat before returning to his tanker for engine start.
"Ron? Ron, this is Rick Davis, 3653." He had finally found Ron Brian a master sergeant on Fairchild who was technically his boss and the flightline supervisor for all the tankers on Fairchild.
As quickly as he could. With as few words as he could manage, Rick told Brian what had happened and what Rick wanted to happen. To his surprise, Brian didn't argue or try to change anything that Rick wanted to happen, but did offer a suggestion.
"Okay, Rick. I'll have the air police on the ramp and we'll get the customs routine started as quick as we can. Are you thinking that Barnes won't go after the rum until after everybody leaves the aircraft and gets off the ramp?"
"I'm sure, Ron. He put them in the door after I went to bed and the tanker ramp was basically deserted except for a couple technicians who could have cared less if somebody was taking a door apart."
"I'm thinking that it might expedite the matter if we put 3653 into a nose dock. It will be dark and out of sight and may encourage him to try for the rum sooner. I'll check with the air police and get their feelings about it. Okay?"
"Sure. Whatever will work the best for you and the cops."
"Are you going to tell the aircraft commander?" Ron Brian asked.
"Yeah, about the time we hit the California/Oregon border. He can decide who else to tell."
"Any chance Barnes will find out?"
"No way. He hasn't come into the cockpit since the A/C told him to go back in the cargo compartment for takeoff from Fairchild. Guess it pissed him off. Hurt his inflated ego. I have the feeling that the flight crew doesn't like him."
"See ya when you get here. I got you covered on this end so don't sweat it. Truth be known, I've wanted to get rid of him since I took over the line."
"Hey Chief, command post said that maintenance is going to put us in a nose dock before we can deplane. You know anything about that?" The A/C asked over the intercom.
"I think they decided to give her a phase inspection a bit ahead of time. I'm due a few days off, but when they finish up with the inspection, they can turn me around for another trip to Kadena." Rick answered over the intercom for everybody's information before he leaned over the back of the pilot's seat and released his intercom mike button before speaking again.
"I think this has to do with our door problem, Sir. They think that it will expedite the whole situation if you know what I mean."
"Gotcha, Rick. That makes sense.
That next Kadena trip A/C is going to be Captain Autwater. Has he flown your tanker yet?"
"Not since I came aboard."
"You'll like him and his crew. It will be a fun TDY."
He could hear the insistent phone though he preferred to ignore it and stay asleep. Easing one eye open Rick had to search for the clock. 9 o'clock! "Shit. It was after 0200 before I got to bed." Rick was talking to himself.
The phone refused to stop ringing so he gave up and raised the hand-piece to his ear.
"This better be good."
"Thought that you'd like to know that you're going to need a new assistant crew chief. You can have your pick when you come back to work and get 3653 out of phase."
"Gee, thanks Ron. How did it go? Did you stick around for the conclusion?"
"No, I left after I dropped you at your car. I had to work this morning remember? I did talk to the cops and the squadron commander just a few minutes ago.
Barnes tried to blame you. Said it was your rum and you must have stolen his flight jacket. The APs asked how come his fingerprints were all over the bottles. That did it. He lost it and said that he had a drinking problem and wanted help."
Boy, he sure knows how to work the system. Has he got in trouble before? Or after he enlisted?"
The cops are still checking his background. They're hinting at a court martial."
"Had they actually matched his prints to the ones on the bottles?" Rick asked
"Not as far as I know. Didn't have time.
The squadron commander said to tell you thanks and will have a more formal thanks later. Also said to give you a long weekend. You don't have to come to work until Tuesday morning. By that time 3653 should be out of phase and all the discrepancies cleared."
"What's the catch, Ron?'
"You're scheduled for an abbreviated Young Tiger on August 16th, be only for 14 days plus travel to Kadena and back to CONUS. The best news is that they are guaranteeing you Kadena instead of Utapao, Thailand.
Anyway, I'll fill you in more next week. Go back to sleep."
"Thanks, Ron. I'll see ya Tuesday."
SIX
The high pitched whine of the hydraulic motors deep within the tanker's belly startled him out of his reverie. The mechanical sounds brought Rick back to the real world of 3653's cargo compartment. He was lethargic from the long flight and for the last couple of hours he had been drowsing in a temporary suspension of time on one of the tanker's bunks.
The KC135's flaps were still forcing their way down into the slipstreams below the wings when another hydraulic pump started up. The aircraft shuddered in protest as the main landing gears slammed into place with a series of loud clunks. Rick jumped off the bunk and made his way forward to the cockpit.
"Must be nice to be a crew chief so you can sleep while the rest of us work so hard driving you across the big pond." The navigator kidded Rick. With a sleepy smile the crew chief slipped into the IP's seat with a cup of cool and stale coffee. It was the left over from the coffee the crew had gotten from the inflight kitchen in Utapao, Thailand about four hours ago.
The aircraft banked into a shallow left turn and started to descend with a sudden loss of engine noise. It was several seconds before Rick realized that the pilot had just reduced the power on all four engines. He looked out through the tanker's windshield then turned towards the pilot's side window. Off the left wing tip he could see twinkling city lights and a scattering of yellowish headlights threading their way along a north-south highway. He looked forward, ahead of the leading edge of the wing and could pick out Okinawa's Highway #1 and the line of northbound headlights which merged with and disappeared amongst the distinctive lineup of runway approach lights.
The pilot rolled the tanker's wings level and continued their descent. Over the black radome on the tanker's nose Rick made out the jagged line of green and white breakers with their glowing phosphorescent marking the collision of the East China Sea with Okinawa's ancient coral reef.
Kadena's runway 5’s approach lights flashed under the tanker's belly and they landed with a thump and the quick, but repeated screeching of tires on dry concrete as first the right landing gear touched down followed in a fraction of a second by the left set of tires. The sudden loss of power from the jet engines, both pilots stomping on the brakes and full up spoilers slowed the aircraft and sucked Rick forward against his seat harness.
Rick and his new assistant crew chief, Sgt. Don Naylor, had been on the go since they had departed Fairchild on the 16th of August. There were no RONs on this trip. Their first stop had been at Castle AFB to refuel and pickup several geese, (slang for passengers,) destined for different bases in Southeast Asia.
Next stop was Hickam AFB. Again it was a quick turn around. Refuel, check fluid levels, drop some geese, pickup some new ones and change flight crews. The crew chiefs managed to grab some sleep on the tanker's bunks between stops and ordered inflight frozen meals on the bases where they were available otherwise they ate inflight box lunches. A dry sandwich with some meat of unknown origin and a slice of dry cheese, a couple of cookies usually made of some strange fibrous flour. Maybe an apple and/or small ,(read 'tiny') can of fruit juice. and a carton of week old milk which was warm when it came from the inflight kitchen. At Hickam the new flight crew picked up hamburgers and fries from the snack bar for the crew chiefs along with two of the largest sized Cokes the snack bar had.
Going into Guam the pilot told Rick that there was going to be about a six hour delay to wait for the new crew to fulfill their down time. The A/C had arranged for the Anderson AFB transit tanker ground crew to refuel 3653 so that Rick and Don could go to the NCO club for a real meal and maybe a beer.
After a hurried post flight/preflight rolled into one, the crew chiefs crawled into the two tanker bunks to sack out and grabbed some sleep while waiting for the fresh flight crew.
It was pushing midnight when they landed at Utapao RTNAB and delivered their geese. The tanker flight chief took Rick and Don to the NCO Club for a late midnight meal while the UT transit tanker ground crew refueled 3653 for them.
You'll be going to Kadena as soon as they finish the refuel. You're our round robin flight for the day. You left Guam, came here, will go to Kadena to stay.
Another tanker will go to Guam from Kadena this afternoon, then come here and back to Kadena. You'll probably fly a round robin about once or twice more while you're here.
When the flight chief dropped them off at their tanker the new flight crew had already arrived and was starting their preflight. As would happen many times in the world of SAC they were amongst friends. The flight crew was from Fairchild and Rick had flown with them out of their home base.
"Where did you guys go. To Sattahip for a 'short time', Chief?" The pilot hollered from where he sat in his cockpit seat. "I'll be down in a second and we can do our walk around."
"Okay Captain. And no, we weren't in Sattahip. They have drive up window service here, Sir. No need to go downtown at UT anymore. Didn't the boomer clue you in to that? He's been here before and should be up on the finer social convenient aspects of the Sattahip bar girls."
"He's shaking his head no, Rick. Says to tell you that you're the same wise ass that was at Fairchild and payback is hell.
I'll be down in a sec."
When Rick climbed aboard 3653 after engine start he realized that the cargo compartment was almost full of geese. Looking aft through the cockpit door he waited for the boom operator to enter the cockpit.
"We have 86 passengers, Rick, 8 mail bags stowed aft towards the boom pod. And those two pallets just aft of the cargo door."
"What are they Boom?"
"Spare tanker parts for Kadena the manifest says. They came in on a C141 earlier. I guess the 141 forgot to stop at Kadena so we ended up taking them."
"You managed to end up here at Kadena instead of UT. How did you manage that?" Were the first words out of MSgt. Bob Kruse's mouth when Rick stepped onto the tarmac at Kadena AFB.
"Actually I had pull from some of Kadena's NCOs."
The two friends gave each other a quick hug.
"This is Don Naylor, my new right hand man and back up. I found him wandering around the flightline at Fairchild so I kidnapped him." Rick introduced his new assistant to Kruse.
"Don, if you have any problems getting along with Sgt. Davis let me know. I know all of his secrets and hang ups."
Without any further comment, Kruse picked up an AWOL bag and parachute bag from the pile of gear the two crew chiefs had taken off their tanker, and started for his truck.
"Come on. I'll take you to the transit barracks. Since you'll be here for at least 14 days TDY, you don't get to spend it in the luxury of the VBOQ."
"What happened after we left that gave us a chance at such a short TDY here, Bob?
"Somebody in plans and scheduling screwed up to put it bluntly. They had 3653, listed as a Young Tiger on a 120 day TDY. When as we know, you were only here on hold for the F4s coming out of Thailand. So they ended up being a tanker short. They couldn't get an additional tanker for the full 120 days until after 1 September, but 3653 was available until the 3rd or 4th of September.
So here you are."
After they pulled up in front of the transit barracks Kruse picked up a manilla folder from the pickup's seat. Opened it and carefully keeping the contents from Rick's view, extracted several sheets of mimeographed papers.
"Thought that you might be interested in this message from Fairchild that came for you yesterday." He handed Rick the stapled together sheets with a big smile.
Rick skimmed the contents of the top sheet. "Holy shit! Are these for real, Bob?"
"Congratulations Staff Sergeant. Not bad, Staff in just over four years."
"So when are we on the schedule, Bob?" Rick asked as MSgt. Kruse was starting down the barracks stairs after helping the crew chiefs carry flight gear to their room.
"Monday, the 21st. Be your first combat mission. You'll be flying a Combat Apple Patrol (CAP) mission off of the coast of Vietnam. So enjoy your day off tomorrow and meet me in the NCO club for dinner after you come back from Naha. About 1930 hours or so."
"Who said anything about Naha?"
"I just think that it's a given. You seem to have been drawn in that direction on your last trip to the island."
SEVEN
Don Naylor had passed on the opportunity of going to Naha with Rick. He had met up with a couple of people he had known before. The male of the pair had a car, an old 1952 Olds, but nonetheless transportation. The three of them were going to spend the day exploring the island's beaches. So Rick was on his own.
After a leisurely brunch at the NCO club, Rick had grabbed a pink sukoshi cab at the Highway #1 gate and soon found himself window shopping on Kokusai Dori. He had wandered up one side of the street and down the other wandering through several small stores and the huge Ryubo Department Store. He ended up buying two more short sleeved shirts with Hawaiian-like floral patterns he had seen many Okinawan men wearing and a set of Panasonic headphones for his stereo. He had a small apartment in Medical Lake, a small town outside of Fairchild AFB, and often worried that his stereo was too loud and would bother his neighbors. Rick hesitated on the sidewalk before realizing that he was under the Kokusai Coffee House sign. Then as Bob Kruse had said, he felt drawn to the narrow set of stairs.
"Konnichi wa. How are you today Rick-san?" She asked him.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-59 show above.)