"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?"
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"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 v
ery 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.