“For Those Who Missed the Rock” Part 1

I don’t want to go,” I sobbed as I tore off my civilian clothes and shoved them into a green duffel bag.

There I was the big, tough guy Marine sobbing like a baby. Tears and snot ran down my face as I packed my gear for a flight to Okinawa, Japan.

Matt, my younger brother, sat stunned on my bed as he watched me lose it while I prepared to leave at four am in the morning.

“It’s fucked-up Matty!” I wailed ‘I didn’t even volunteer to go…the assholes are just shipping me off to some goddamn rock in the middle of the ocean!!!”

I finished stuffing my uniforms into my duffel bag. Then sat on the floor with my face in my hands as I continued to sob.

You might be wondering – how in the Hell did I get into this mess? Well, I’m gonna tell ya –  it all started two months ago while I was stationed at Camp Pendleton.

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Periodically a military unit will get orders for certain ranks to be moved to different bases throughout the world. It doesn’t matter if you want to go or not. If you’re told to go – you’re goin’. End of discussion.

Now in my case orders had come into my unit that a Lance Corporal was needed to fill a one-year quota at Camp Foster in Okinawa, Japan. Since my Platoon CO didn’t like me very much he filled the billet with my name without telling me.

I had no idea I was being “volunteered” as I was off on a seventy-two liberty pass. Translation: I was home in the North Bay enjoying my freedom – going out to clubs and raising hell with my friends.

Well, you can imagine my surprise when I got back to my unit and found out I was shipping out. Naturally, I was upset. I didn’t want to go – and I especially didn’t want to go to Okinawa. Getting shipped out to a small island halfway around the world just sucked.

I went to plead my case to my Company Commanding Officer  – who acted like he couldn’t be bothered. Instead, I was directed to some pimply-faced file clerk who laughed at me and said “You’re going, Bucklin. So have a nice trip!”

Well, I made the best of things. I took a thirty-day leave, packed my shit, gave Camp Pendleton the finger and went home. Preparing myself for the inevitable day I had to fly out of San Bernardino.

Thirty days flew by. I slept in late, went to a few clubs, ate what I wanted and did a little reading. 

On my last day, I just stayed up the whole night, had my emotional breakdown and loaded up my duffel bag into Mom’s Ford Mustang. Mom had offered to drive me to San Bernardino where I could catch my flight out.

I slept on most of the drive and didn’t say much when I was awake. I felt like a condemned man being driven to prison so I just didn’t feel like talking. Also, I was doing my best to be brave. I didn’t want to freak out my Mom with any last-minute hysterics.

We got into San Bernadino late morning and got Mom checked into one of those Hotel Motel Holiday Inn joints and went to get something to eat at the motel diner.

I picked at my sausage and pancake breakfast. The pancakes and sausage were tasteless in my mouth and the coffee tasted stale. But I might as well been eating dog shit for all I cared. I was leaving my beloved California and I felt just plain awful.

As I boarded the plane later in the early warm afternoon I gave Mom a brave smile and a little half-hearted wave. We were both trying not to cry.

Sitting in the plane I looked out the window at the airport and planes taking off. I had never been to San Bernadino before and from what I could see it looked just like San Jose with maybe a few more palm trees. It was not what I’d call an impressive scenic view – but it was my last glimpse of California before we took off. 

The actual flight on the plane was a two-stop hop. We’d fly to Anchorage Alaska – then stop and refuel – from there it was another long nonstop flight to Kadena Air Force base in Okinawa.

It took 5 hours to Alaska. Where we disembarked and killed a couple of hours in the Anchorage Airport.  I remember sitting with a couple of other Marines as we looked at this standing nine-foot stuffed Polar Bear.

The damn thing was immense and even though it was stuffed, mounted and quite dead it still was rather intimidating. It was covered in white fur with huge front paws and carried a hungry expression that seemed to say “Boys, I crap bigger meals than you!”

Fueled up we took off an additional 9 hours to Okinawa. It was the longest part of the journey and since there were no movies, very little food and no one to talk to I slept for most of the flight.

We arrived at Kadena Air Force base in Okinawa late in the day and after staggering off the plane I grabbed my duffel bag and caught a military bus going north to Camp Foster.

End of Part 1

To be continued…