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Okinawa – Part Five

Okinawa

Part Five

July-September 1966

 

Breaking News

“So what did you want to tell us?”  Nat asked, once everyone had finally settled down.

“Well, actually I have two pieces of news.  The first one I got from the Finance Office, and the second one I found in the mail room.”  Everyone got suddenly very quiet.  “So, which one do you guys want to hear about first?”  For a few seconds, no one said anything.  They just stared.

“Oh, I don’t give a shit, I’m just pissed at what fucking Smokey just did to your hair!”  Roomie whined, turning and glaring at Smokey.  “You’re a goddamned brute, Smokey!”  He said, resentfully.  “Here Frank, let me straighten that shit out.”  He started to walk towards me.

“Roomie!” I said, forcefully.  “Wait! This is way more important than my hair.”  He stopped, and he looked absolutely crushed.

“Well, shit—OK!”  He said, genuinely hurt.  He backtracked and rejoined the group.

“OK, first: As you guys heard, I was royally reamed out by the shift sergeant, then the colonel, about not giving to the United Fund.  Even though I do have a few dollars left from what you guys contributed to me, I wasn’t about to give that money away.”

“What money are we giving you?” Peewee asked, innocently.  “What the fuck’s he talking about?” he pleaded, looking around, eyes all wide and arms spread out in front of him.

“Shut up, Peewee!”  Nat said, forcefully.  “Go on, Frank.”

“OK.  So, I was threatened with everything from losing rank to a general court-martial—that is, until I told them I hadn’t been paid since November of last year.  The colonel then tried to prove me a liar by threatening to call the Finance Department.  After he asked me to leave his office, I guess he made some calls and found out that I was telling the truth.  He called me back into his office, then asked me to go down to Finance and tell them he’d sent me.  When I got there, I was given a hundred bucks in cash.  And—come to find out, they were supposed to be paying me ten bucks every month for living expenses the whole time.  I don’t know what happened, and I didn’t ask, but I suspect someone fucked up.  Anyhow, I’ll start getting paid regular in a couple of months and ten dollars is going to be deducted out of my check until the hundred dollars they gave me is paid off.”

“OK, so you’re good now as far as your pay is concerned, right?” Ramie asked.

“Yes, but I don’t know how I would’ve survived without your help.  I am genuinely grateful, and I intend to pay all of you back.”

“Well!” Roomie piped up.  “You can start by handing over that hundred to cover all the expenses I went through trying to make you beautiful!”  He stepped up and stuck his hand out.

“Roomie, I’m just about ready to kick your ass!” Smokey said angrily.  “Get the fuck back here, you silly bitch!”

“Hey!!”  Roomie said in an even higher whining tone.  “Jesus Smokey, I was just kidding!  Good God, you’re such a thick fuck!”

“OK, guys,” I interceded.  “I know you’ll never admit to it, but you are the best friends anyone could ask for.”

“Stop it, Pancho.  You’re gonna fucking make me cry.” Ramie said, rolling his eyes.  “So, you’re back in clover, and that’s good, but what’s the other news you had.”

“Well, this is just a bit more serious and maybe just a little depressing.  As I said earlier, I went to the mail room…and I found that I had received a letter from my wife—Sharon.”  No one moved, nor did anyone make a sound.  “And…well, the letter brought me some news that I just never expected.”

At this point, I paused.  It was not for effect—mostly, I didn’t know how to start with what I had to tell them.  “All right, this is going to be tough, but I need to know that no one in this room will ever say anything about this to anyone else.”

“What?”  Nat asked.  “Did she sue you for divorce?”

“No.  That’s what I would’ve guessed, but what it was, was completely unexpected.”

“So, she’s got a boyfriend, right?”  Ramie asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Hey, why don’t we just let him tell us, OK?”  Smokey said irritably.  “And Frank!  You should know better than to think we’re going to go around blabbing about your business!  Jesus!!”

“OK, sorry.  Well guys, she wrote to tell me that she’s pregnant.  Seven months pregnant!”

“Holy shit!” Peewee exclaimed.  “And you’ve been here for how long?”

“Nine months.”  I said, digging the letter out from my pocket.  “Further, she claims she doesn’t know who the father is.”

“Fuck that!”  Smokey spit out.  “That’s complete bullshit!  She’s not only a slut, but a fucking liar too!”

“I know that, and you know that.” I said, patiently.  “But that’s what she wrote in the letter.  I doubt that she would’ve put some guy’s name in a letter to her husband when she’s telling him she’s knocked up.”  I said.

Roomie walked over to where I was sitting and sat on the edge of the bed next to me.  “Well, what we’re all missing here,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders. “Is that Frank just got a letter that beats the hell out of all the “Dear John” letters ever written.”  He tightened his grip around my shoulders.  “Are you doing OK with this?  I mean, you’re not going to go off the deep end, or anything like that, are you?”

“Thanks Roomie, but no.  I’m OK.  I really am.”

“So what’re you gonna do now?” Ramie asked softly.

“Nothing, for now.  I met with the squadron commander about this and he offered a MARS phone call, which I declined.  Then he said I could go home on emergency leave.”

“So, are you going to go home?”  Roomie asked.

“No, not right away.  I’d have to pay my own way if I opted to go home now, but if I wait until the squadron gets approval from the Wing, then they’ll pay for my flights and grant me ten days’ emergency leave.  But the approval probably won’t come down for a couple of months.  I told the colonel that that would probably be the best option.”

“So, that won’t be until September, right?”  Nat asked.

“Yup.  I think that’s right—probably early September.”

“So did you tell her already?  I mean, that you’re not going home to see her for another two months?” Roomie asked.

“No, I haven’t had a chance to write back.  Actually, I don’t really know what to say to her.  You know?”

“Fuck!  Tell her to go fuck herself!  If that was my wife I’d be on the next plane on my way to kill her ass!” Smokey said forcefully.  “Fuck that!  Sleazy cunt!”

“Well, I guess I should be angrier than I actually am.  But I’m just not.  I guess her not writing to me for this long kinda numbed me and I was just about ready for anything.”

Nat stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in.  “You do realize that if you wait for two months she’ll either already have given birth or be just about ready to pop?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”  I said, realizing this for the first time.  “I guess you’re right.  But I’m not going home any sooner.  So I guess we’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Did she say what she’s gonna do with the kid?  And, for that matter, what’re your plans?” Peewee asked, hesitantly.  “I mean, you should explore your options.  At least make an appointment with a judge advocate here on the base.”

“I don’t know, I guess I should, but I just don’t know.  She didn’t mention anything about the kid, or what she plans to do about it, so I guess I’ll just find out when I get home.”

For a few minutes no one said anything, and I sure didn’t have anything new to add.  Finally, Smokey spoke up.  “Well, shit!  I could use a beer or two.  Who’s up for that?”  The consensus was unanimous.

“OK,” I said.  “Since I happen to have a little cash on hand, I will buy—but I don’t want to go downtown.  Let’s go to the Airmen’s Club.”

“Well it’s about fucking time you buy, you damned cheapskate!”  Ramie said, breaking out one of his best winning smiles.  “But, I may be only able to just stay for one.  I have some business to take care of in Naminoue.”  He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Figures!” Roomie said, disgustingly.  “You are such a whore, Ramie.  I wouldn’t be surprised if your dick just rotted off one of these days.”

“Hey,” Ramie countered. “At least I got one, Roomie!”

The room filled with whoops and cat-calls—and Roomie waited a few seconds until he could get his final repartee: “Whenever you want to check it out, Ramie!  But when you do, you’ll never go back to your gook bitches!”  Whoops and cheers greeted that one.

“OK guys,” I finally said, “time’s a-wasting.  This is nickel beer night at the club, so let’s go belly-up to the bar and drink until they throw us out!”

***

Compared to the Airmen’s and Officer’s Clubs that I’d been to before, the club at Naha Air Base was gigantic and unique in many ways.  I guess because it served all service members on the base, it had to be large.  Easily well over twenty thousand square feet, it was probably once an old B-52 hangar now converted into a glamourous and well-appointed structure.  One end of the building was sectioned off and served as a fine restaurant where the enlisted personnel, living on and off base, could bring their wives, husbands, or dates, and enjoy some of the finest and cheapest food on the island.

On the other side of the building was a huge double bar, tables, a large dance floor, and a concealed stage.  When the stage was lowered onto the floor, a full orchestra pit was revealed by pulling aside a set of heavy blood-red ceiling-to-floor velvet curtains.  During the week, an orchestra would play from eight in the evening until midnight—usually dinner music, and on weekends the curtains would be closed, the stage raised, and different rock and roll bands would perform.  The bands, usually cover bands from the Philippines, would play all sorts of current rock music, usually impersonating (covering) popular bands of the day.  Some of the best covers were of the Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Beach Boys, The Who, Pink Floyd, The Doors, and my personal favorite—The Animals.

The bands were fabulous, but physically looking at them—rather than just hearing them—could confuse the senses.  They were, of course, Filipinos—mostly straight from Manila.  The males were almost all skinny and most sported long stringy black hair, while the occasional female in the groups were extremely flashy in high spiked heels and tight mini-skirts.  But closing one’s visual sense and just listening to their music would almost make you believe that you were listening to the real thing.  Yes, they were that good.  The bands had hokey names like, “The Busy Boys”, “The Family of One and Five”, “Jake and Them”, and so forth, but boy could they cover the bands and groups of the day.

Another oddity that I had only ever seen at this military club was the bevy of young Okinawan girls whose job it was to dance with the customers.  About ten or twelve girls would be seated on either side of the sound stage waiting to be asked to dance.  They did, however, reserve the right to refuse someone if they felt they were too drunk or too loud, or if during the dance they put their hands where they didn’t belong.  And, there were always two beefy looking Marine bouncers on duty to remove and eject any customer who abused his privilege on the dance floor.

The girls were under strict instructions on how to conduct themselves while at the club.  No dirty dancing, no suggestive rubbing, and certainly no alcoholic beverages.  If the club management found out that they were dating any military man once they went off duty, they would quickly be fired; and since they were paid well above what they would’ve earned on the local economy they made sure to adhere to all the rules.

For the most part the girls were attractive and very trim, but most of them couldn’t speak very good English.  Not that they needed to—all they really needed to do was to know how to dance.

The six of us arrived at the club early that evening, and before we went to the bar decided to go into the restaurant to eat.  Oddly, the restaurant was divided into two sections: the family and the single person section.  Of course, the single section was a bit more rowdy but we were able to have conversations that perhaps would not have been appreciated by families.

After consuming the best two-dollar T-bone steak this side of California, we walked into the bar.  It was still a bit early for the rock group to be on stage, but the full-sized orchestra was playing some 1940’s Glenn Miller music that was all but putting everyone to sleep.  No one seemed to know the orchestra’s real name, or the name of the conductor, so as military men will do, they tagged the group, “Gus and the Gooks”.

As promised, after finding some stools at one of the bars I ordered beers for all of us.  For the rest of the night we never again spoke of the letter I had received or the news that it had contained.  We just drank, told each other jokes, and enjoyed each other’s company.  In spite of the jovial atmosphere and the camaraderie, I sensed a certain pall over our get-together that night.  It was almost as if someone told us that soon our happy and tight-knit group would be broken up forever.

We ended our evening and walked all the way back to our barracks and headed for our respective rooms.  As I settled in for the night, and before descending into a soft and slightly drunken slumber, my thoughts turned to Sharon.  As much as I’d suffered in the last nine months, I thought about how she must’ve felt when she’d finally been convinced that she had to sit down and write me that letter.  And I could only imagine the shame and humiliation she had to fight through when she was forced to face her own family with her embarrassing condition.

As my consciousness ebbed away I promised myself that, sooner rather than later, I would have to make plans for my trip back home.  What would I find, and how would I deal with my wife’s pregnancy?  Before I had a chance to look for answers to those questions I was fast asleep.

***

Six weeks short of a year after landing on Okinawa, I was again preparing to fly home to see my wife and children.  I had no idea what I’d find when I got there; and not having received any pictures, I had no idea what my boys would look like now.  However, having put a lot of thought into what needed to be done on my part, and after paying a visit to the base judge advocate, I had finally settled on a series of decisions that, once put into action, would significantly alter all of our lives for many years to come.

Reno

I received the orders for my emergency leave on Friday, September 2nd.  They stated that I was authorized to travel via common air carrier from Naha Air Base, Okinawa to Reno, Nevada.  Travel was to begin early on September 13th, and I had been granted two travel days outbound, and three travel days back.  With ten days’ emergency leave, I was expected to report back to my base not later than October 4, 1966.

About two weeks after I received Sharon’s letter I wrote a short letter back.  In it, I told her that I would be planning to travel back to Reno.  I told her truthfully that I had no idea when that would be, but that my next letter would provide her with more details.  I did not mention her pregnancy, nor my feelings about it.

So on the day after I received my travel orders I sat down and composed a final letter to her.

***

                                                                                                                                                                                             September 5, 1966

 

Sharon,

Just a short letter to advise you that I will should be arriving in Reno on the morning of September 14th.  When I land at Travis Air Force Base in California, I will call you at the last number that I have for you to let you know what flight I will be arriving on and what time it will arrive in Reno.

Please do not meet me at the airport as I would prefer to take a cab to your house.  I don’t really want to see you, and anything we may have to discuss can be done once I arrive at your house.

I plan to be in Reno for only a few days and I will probably be staying in a motel.

 

Frank

***

The day before I left, the guys wanted to throw me a little going away party down in Naminoue.  I declined their kind offer for a lot of different reasons, but mostly because I was growing increasingly nervous and unsettled about my seeing Sharon again.  I had no idea what I was going to say to her when I saw her again—considering that by this time she would be as big as a house.

Further, I had yet to devise a way to ask her why she had not had the decency to write me at least one letter for almost a year; and then of course, there was the dicey subject regarding what she’d done with the nine hundred dollars I’d sent.  So, not wishing to hurt their feelings, I promised the guys that once I returned in October we’d all get together and throw a really good bash downtown.

The flight from Okinawa to Travis Air Force Base in California, was excruciatingly long and very uncomfortable.  For almost the whole time, regardless of the altitude, we experienced thunderstorms and moderate to heavy turbulence.  And because the flight had been rerouted excessively once we’d left Tokyo on our way to California, we were diverted to Seattle-Tacoma Airport in Washington to refuel.  To add insult to injury, and because of our international flight status, we were prohibited from disembarking at this airport—and by this time we’d run out of food and snacks.  We sat on the ground for well over an hour before we were allowed to depart.

I finally arrived at Travis and was able to immediately book a shuttle bus to the Oakland Airport to pick up a flight to Reno.  My original connecting flight had long departed, but fortunately I was rebooked on a flight that went to Boise then on to Reno.

Landing at the Reno Airport three hours late, I was both relieved and very apprehensive as I entered the terminal and headed for the baggage claim area.  I wondered if I should call Sharon as soon as I got my bag to tell her that I’d arrived, or if I should just take a cab to her house and arrive unannounced.  As it turned ou, I never got to make that decision.

After retrieving my bags, I was headed for the taxi stand when I heard someone call my name.  I turned to my right and saw two little boys running towards me—followed by a very pregnant woman in an ill-fitting red coat.

“FRANK, FRANK!  Go boys!  Your daddy’s home!” the round-faced woman said, trying to stay up with the two little guys, running clumsily while holding her belly with both hands.

I dropped my bags to the floor as I recognized Ricky—running with his little arms outstretched, long dark unkempt hair bouncing on his forehead and into his eyes.  A few feet behind him, and not as enthusiastic as Ricky, came Beebe.  Although he was also running, he didn’t appear to be on the same mission as his brother.  Rather, he seemed more interested in looking at the people who were dodging them.

Squatting down, I caught Ricky as he all but dove into my arms.  I hugged him tightly and realized that he’d lost all of his baby fat and grown more than a few inches.  Beebe finally arrived, but he stopped a few feet short of us and stood there curiously observing me.  I motioned him over but he instead stuck his right index finger up his nose and looked back to see where his mother was.  In spite of the near freezing temperature in Reno, I noticed that both boys were dressed in loose-fitting corduroy pants, beat-up sneakers, and thin T-shirts.

I knew that eventually I had to look up and face Sharon but I wanted to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

“Hi honey!” I heard her say—the word stinging my ears and making me instantly angry.  I looked up slowly and took a long look.  I released my grip on Ricky and stood up.

“Hey.” I said, cautiously.

“Welcome home…” she said, now a bit more hesitantly.

“Yeah.  I thought I told you I’d take a taxi home?”

“Oh…well, I thought it’d be nice to come and pick you up instead.  I mean—after the long flight and all.  Plus, when we got here we found out you were going to be delayed, but, we decided to wait for you instead of going home again.  The boys…they were excited to see you—you know.”

“The boys…oh, I’m sure.”  I reached down and pulled my bags off the floor.  “OK, since you’re here.  Where’s the car?”

As we walked to the airport terminal exit and in the direction of the public parking area, I tried to keep my eyes off her.  The short glance I’d gotten of her when she first approached had left me in a bit of a shock.  She looked much older, and tired.  Her face was swollen and there were hints of lightly shaded shadows under both eyes.  Her glasses, usually riding high on her perky nose, were disturbingly off-kilter.  It was after we’d gotten into the car that I noticed she’d lost the screw to the right temple of her glasses and had secured it to the frame with a paper clip.

Dowdy.  That was the word that popped into my mind.

“How was your flight?” she asked, as we pulled away from the lot.

“Fine.”  The boys were rolling around in the back seat of the black 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air, which I’d never seen before.

“Oh…I know you said you probably wanted to stay in a motel, but you know, there’s plenty of room in the house.  You’ll see.  The bedroom is pretty big and the bed is a double.  So I think you’ll be more comfortable there.  Don’t you think?”

“Let’s discuss that once we get to your house.  Where’d you get the car?”

“Oh, mom bought it for me.  She got a great deal from a friend of hers that was leaving to go to California after a divorce.  So…you know…since I didn’t have transportation and all…”

“Hmm.”

“You like it?  It kinda reminds me of our old car.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.  Where are the boys’ coats?  They must be freezing.”

“Oh, no!  They love the cold.  Besides, we were mostly going to be in the car or in the airport terminal, so I thought they’d be fine.”

I wanted to yell at her!  Cuss her out!  Say all the words that had been boiling in my heart for the last two months!  But instead, I just angled my body to the right and concentrated on the cold gray scenery as it zipped by.

“By the way,” she said, “I really like your hair.  It looks so neat.”

I didn’t bother with an answer.

After about a fifteen-minute drive we pulled off a main avenue onto a small residential street.  Hers was the second house on the left: a single-story wood-frame house, with a small porch in the front.  Red brick pillars rose on either side of the stairs—rising to support the small roof extension covering the porch.  A once white, and now mostly rusty metal two-person slider sat to the right of the screened front door; and the driveway, situated to the right of the house, consisted of two well-worn dirt ruts.

“Home sweet home!” Sharon said, trying to sound cheery.  “Come on boys, time to help daddy with his bags.”

“I’ll get my own bags.  Get the boys into the house and out of the cold.” I said, pushing my door open and heading for the trunk of the car.  The boys raced from the car, up the rickety-looking stairs, and pushed open the unlocked door.  Sharon stood by the driver’s side door waiting for me to close the trunk before walking slowly and painfully up the stairs.  She paused on the porch to catch her breath before slipping through the open door.

The house was small and simple.  Walking through the door, one was greeted by a large and mostly empty living room.  There were two doors on the right wall in the main living area—one, guarding a small coat closet and the other, leading to the main bedroom.  The two doors were separated by a brown two cushion sofa that I’d never seen before, and which had seen better days.  The left wall was mostly bare, except for a calendar advertising a local market and drug store, thumb-tacked up next to a light green wall phone with a long extension cord hanging from the receiver.

At the end of the room was a small bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the front room.  Along the left kitchen wall was a burn-scarred Formica counter and a yellow-stained sink sitting under a small glass window.  A greasy white four-burner gas stove sat against the back wall and next to the rear exit door.  The cabinets, once painted white with small yellow daisy decorations around the edges, were hung over and on either side of the stove, and had faded to varying shades of gray and brown, their bottoms spotted with dark finger smudges.

On the right wall was a small closed door.  At the time I assumed it was a pantry, but it turned out to be the only bathroom in the house.

A bare wooden four-chair dining table sat on the living room side of the bar, with only a small set of salt and pepper shakers set on its center.

“Where’s our furniture?” I asked Sharon, as I put my bags down on the scarred and worn linoleum floor.

“Oh, well I sold some pieces to my mom.  But I kept the bed and night stands.  Wanna see?”

“No thanks.  Where do the boys sleep?”

“Their bedroom is right off mine.  You have to go through my, or rather our, main bedroom to get to theirs.”

I could hear the boys’ voices, so I assumed they had retreated to their room.  “You didn’t sell their beds too, did you?”

“Well yes…no, I actually traded their stuff for a set of bunk beds.  Come see.”

Although I didn’t want to enter her bedroom, I found that I had no choice but to go through it to see where the boys slept.

The main bedroom was large—taking up at least two-thirds of the length of the right side of the house.  There was a large window set onto one side, overlooking the porch, under which her bed was placed.  Another window oversaw the driveway.  No curtains were hung on either window, but dingy pull-shades hung half-way down each one.  On the wall separating her bedroom from the boys’ was a large open walk-in closet whose double-doors were splayed wide open.  I didn’t look too closely, but I could tell it was stuffed with clothes and shoes.

The door to the boys’ room was open, and I saw them playing on the bare wooden floor.  The small room was windowless and smelled like old laundry and dirty socks.  A set of bunk beds was stacked on the driveway side of the room, and a dresser, missing its mirror, was pushed up against the opposite wall.  Most the drawers were hanging open—most of their pulls missing, and I could tell that the runners had long since been worn out.

The beds were unmade—sheets and thin blankets hanging willy-nilly off the edges of the thin mattresses.

“Who sleeps on the top bunk?”  I asked.

“Ricky does!  He heard somewhere that the top bunk was the best so that’s where he staked his claim.”

“How does he get up there?  I don’t see any ladder.”

“You know—he’s like a monkey.  He just swings up there on his own.”

I couldn’t see how he did it, but I took her word for it.  Not wanting to see anymore, I turned around and walked back out to the main room.

Sharon took her coat off and threw it on her bed as she followed me out.  It was then I saw just how pregnant she really was.  Even though I’d seen her when she was pregnant with Ricky, I didn’t recall her being quite this big.

“Hey,” she said behind me, a little out of breath.  “You want something to drink—or anything?  I can warm up some soup if you’re hungry.”

“No, just some water will be fine.”  As she headed to the kitchen, I looked around at where she and my boys had been living for the last year.  It was disgusting and dirty.  My anger rose and I wanted to say something—anything—but I successfully resisted the impulse.  There’d be plenty of time to discuss this, and other things. Later.

“Here you go.” she said, handing me a glass of water.  There was a chip on the drinking edge of the glass.  “You must be tired.  You wanna go take a nap?”

“Nope.”

“Oh…OK.  Well then, do you mind if I go into the bedroom and get off my feet?  I got up early and haven’t had a chance to rest.”

Whatever you want to do.”

“OK, you know as tired as I feel I’ll probably drift off, but I’ll be up in a little bit so I can cook you and the boys some dinner.”

“Don’t bother on my account.”

“Oh…all right.  You sure?  It’s no trouble.”

“Can I use your phone?”

“Uh…sure.”

“I want to call my folks.  I’ll call collect, so don’t worry.”

“No!  No problem!  Say hi to them for me.”

“Sure thing…”  I said, thinking that it would be a cold day in Hell before I mentioned her to them or anyone else.  She closed the bedroom door, and then I heard her yelling at the boys, telling them that it was time for a nap.  I thought about how they looked and how they were dressed.  ‘Ragamuffins’ came to mind.  The thought of what she’d done with the nine hundred dollars bubbled up into my brain.

I talked to my folks for a few minutes and made some plans.  After hanging up I unbuttoned my shirt and loosened my belt.  I was dog-tired, and I knew that if I stretched out on the couch I’d fall asleep immediately.  I headed to the small door I’d seen in the kitchen and found that my instincts had been correct: it was a bathroom.

Coming back to the main room I rummaged through my bags and pulled out a fresh pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, a T-shirt and a clean pair of shorts and socks.  I eased into the small bathroom and removed my travel-worn clothing.  What I really wanted to do was to take a shower but I just couldn’t bring myself to step into the scummy and chipped porcelain tub.  Instead, I took a “GI” bath: using a washcloth, water and soap to wipe myself clean the best I could.  After brushing my teeth and spraying deodorant under my arms I felt almost human.

After changing into fresh clothing, I went out and sat down on the couch.  In what was probably less than a minute I drifted off into a deep and delicious slumber.

“Hey!”

I jerked my head up and tried to focus.

“Hey you!  I knew you were tired.  Why didn’t you just come into the bedroom and lay down?  I know it’s a small bed but I would’ve made room,” she said, almost jovially.

“Shit!  What time is it?”

“Almost three.  You hungry?”

“No,” I said, pulling myself up to my feet.  “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Well, are you planning to use the car for anything for the next few days?”

“Uh…no.  I don’t think so.  Why?”

“I wanna go down to Houston to see my folks.  When I talked to my mom she said they wanted to see me while I was stateside, so I thought that if I could, I would drive your car down and back.  Today’s Thursday, so I should be back by Tuesday.  I only plan to stay a couple of days, or so.”

“Oh…”

“I know Ricky’s birthday is on the 27th, but I should be back by then.”

“Well, I had plans for a little birthday party for him on the following Saturday, and inviting some of his little friends in the neighborhood; and since you’re home now, I thought it’d be nice for all of us to be here together.”

“I told you, I plan to be back before then.  Can I use your car or not?”

“Well, sure…I guess.  But, I thought…you know…that we could spend some time….”  Her voice trailed off.

“OK, thanks.  Where’s the keys?”

“You’re leaving…now?”

“That’s the plan.  The sooner I leave, I quicker I’ll be back.  Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to talk…about…you know…”

“Oh…” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she quickly ducked her head and wiped her face.  I noticed how loose her glasses fit on her head.  “They’re over there on the counter.”

“I’ll get them.”  I retrieved the keys and started to close my bags.

“Gosh, you just got home,” she whispered.

“Yeah, how about that.”

In just a few minutes I had my bags back in the trunk, and opened the driver’s door.  She had come out and was standing on the porch—one hand resting on her swollen belly.  “You have money for gas?”

“I’m fine.  Is there anything I need to know about the car?  Like burning oil or something like that?”

“No, it’s a good car.”

“Fine!” I said, turning the key in the ignition.  The engine roared to life.  I closed the door and rolled the window halfway down.  “Say bye to the boys when they wake up.  Tell Ricky I’ll make sure I’m back for his birthday party.”

She said nothing—just standing on the porch looking miserable.  As I put the car in reverse I looked up to see her wave while mouthing the words “I love you.”

Houston Bound

I was starving, so I started looking for some type of drive-in or burger place I could pull in and get something to go.  A gas station went by and I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t even bothered to check the gauge to see how much gas was in the tank.  Ah, just over half a tank.  That meant I wouldn’t have to spend as much filling the tank before I got on the highway.  Since gas was about 33 cents a gallon I figured I could get to Houston on less than forty dollars, and last time I checked I had a little over fifty bucks in my pocket.

I would probably have to ask my dad for some money to get back to Reno on, and I would make sure to pay him back once I got back to Okinawa.  A few miles later, on the southern outskirts of Reno I spotted a “Big Boy” hamburger restaurant and I pulled in, anxious to bite into one of their best burgers.

As I got back on the road I looked for the signs to Highway 50, eastbound towards Winnemucca, until I could pick up Highway 95 just south of Fallon, then southbound to Las Vegas.  According to the road map I’d picked up at the gas station where I filled up, it would be about a four-hundred and fifty-mile drive before I would spot the glittering outline of that infamous party city.  Since it was close to 4 pm, I calculated that I’d arrive there around 11 pm.  The thought of such a long drive began to wear on me since I’d had very little sleep since I’d left Okinawa so many hours ago.

Worse, these were the days before cars came equipped with cruise control, so in just a few hours I began to feel the strain on my right heel as it rested on the floorboard controlling the accelerator pedal.  Occasionally, a small cramp would painfully shock my right calf muscle, causing me to jerk my leg up and off the pedal.  I tried to use my left foot to push on the gas while I vigorously massaged my right calf, but inevitably my speed would become erratic and my steering less than accurate.  After several episodes of leg cramps, I arrived at the conclusion that it was indeed going to be a very long drive.

At Hawthorne, not even a quarter of the way to Las Vegas, I decided that what I needed was coffee—lots of coffee.  Several times I’d dozed off–the severe rumbling of the right wheels kicking up gravel was the only thing that brought me back to almost full consciousness.  I also assumed that I was a little dehydrated, hence the leg cramps, so coffee would definitely serve me well.

I found a small gas station that had a small store attached to it, so I pulled in to order myself a large black coffee and visit the men’s room.  A few minutes later I was back on the dark highway sipping the hot brew and hoping that I wouldn’t need to make any more stops until I’d reached Vegas.  Unfortunately, that was not to be.

About an hour and a half after I’d consumed the last of the large coffee that I’d bought, I found that even though I’d emptied my bladder at the last stop, I needed to go again—urgently!  At this pace, I wondered if I was ever going to get to Houston.

I drove through several small towns in which I had hoped to find a gas station with a restroom, but due to the late hour they were all closed.  After I passed the last closed town on the highway I decided that my only hope was to try to hold on until I got to Tonopah—another forty minutes away.  Alas, that was not to be, so finding a stretch of road that seemed more desolate than what I’d been driving on, I pulled off the side of the road.  Stumbling in the dark, I relieved myself next to a very unfortunate outcropping of sage.

At twelve-forty-five in the morning, I finally began to see the city lights that I’d been looking for.  Slowing down as I entered the city limits, I seriously wondered if I should just make a U-turn and make my way back to Reno.  I was completely exhausted, could barely keep my eyes open, and my right leg was all but numb up to my knee.

I pushed on, delaying my decision to see how I felt by the time I reached the southern city limits.  That’s when I saw my salvation.

As the city lights began to dim in my rear-view mirror, my headlights illuminated something strange on the side of the road.  I moved my left foot over to the dimmer switch, located on the floorboard near the left side of the firewall, and pushed it hard to the floor to turn on my high beams.  It was a sailor!

Dressed in his dark Navy blue uniform, the only thing that shone in the dark was his white Dixie cup hat and the white insignia rank on his left sleeve.  His right arm was raised, and his hand was forming the familiar thumbs up—signifying his desire for a ride.

Overcoming my normal hesitation for picking up strangers on the road, I quickly made the decision to stop and pick up this sailor.  Once in the car, I’d ask him to share in the driving and I could slide over to the passenger side of the front seat and get some much-needed sleep.  I assumed he would drive until sunrise, when—completely refreshed, I would take over.

I came to a quick stop, just past where he was standing and reached over to roll the window down.  He ran up, dragging his sea-bag, and stuck his head in the open window.

“How far you going?” he asked, a little out of breath.

“All the way to Houston.  Where you headed?”

“Phoenix!”

“Oh great!  I’m going right through Phoenix, so I can drop you off there.”

“Fantastic!” he said gleefully.  He opened the back door and pushed his bag onto the back seat.

Settling into the passenger side of the front seat he immediately pulled off his shoes.  “Man, I am so glad you came along.  The thought of my having to stand in the dark, especially as cold as it is, gave me the willies.  The last guy that gave me a ride dropped me off right inside the city limits.  Said he was gonna strike it big on the slot machines.”

“Ha, fat chance!” I said.  “So what’s your name?”

“Harvey, Harvey Thompson.  You?”

“Frank.  Where you from?”

“Well, I just left San Diego, but I was born and raised in Dubuque, Iowa.  My folks sold their farm there a couple of years ago and retired in Phoenix.”

“So, you’re a farm boy, huh?”

“Yeah.  How about you?”

“Houston.  Born and raised.”

“Cool.  Anyway, thanks for stopping to pick me up.  I am exhausted.”

“Yeah, me too.  I thought we’d share the driving on the way to Phoenix.  I’ve been fighting to stay awake for the last couple of hours.  So, if you don’t mind let’s switch off at the next town so I can get a couple of hours sleep.  That OK?”

“Oh…” he said, tentatively.  “See…I’d like to help you out…but the deal is that I don’t know how to drive.”

“You what?”

“Yeah, see.  I was raised on my folks’ farm and all I ever learned to drive was tractors.  Never had any need to learn to drive the car.  Only had one, so my dad did all the driving.  None of us, the kids I mean, ever learned how to drive.  Sorry.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.  What are the odds?  Of all the hitch-hikers on the road, and I gotta find the one that doesn’t know how to drive.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I gotta get some shut-eye.  My folks got a long day planned for me tomorrow.  It being my first furlough, and all.”

“Great.”

He curled up, pulling his socked feet up under him on, and burying his head in the space between the back of the seat and the door.

“G’night.” he mumbled.  Within a couple of minutes he was snoring loudly.  I quickly discovered that driving and trying to stay awake with someone snoring next to you was a thousand times worse than having to drive alone.

About an hour and a half later, and after almost driving off the side of the dark road several times, jerking myself awake at the last moment, I finally gave up as we pulled in to Kingman.  For the exception of some twenty-four-hour gas stations on the outskirts of town, everything appeared to be closed.  I saw what appeared to be a small restaurant whose parking lot was empty, and I pulled in and shut the engine off.

Harvey immediately jumped up in his seat.  “Wha…what’s going on?  Why’d you stop?”

He was looking at me with a frightened expression—his eyes wide and his mouth open.

“Take it easy, Harvey.  Since you can’t fucking help me drive I thought I should just stop here and sleep a few hours.  I almost killed us several times back there, so settle back down and go back to sleep.”

“Uh, OK…” he said, hesitantly.

“Tell you what.  Why don’t you get into the back seat and stretch out so I can sleep up here?”  That seemed to take the edge off his sudden anxiety.

“Sure!  That’s cool.”  And he jumped out onto the concrete drive in his socks.

“Get your shoes!”  I yelled.

“Oh yeah!  Thanks.”  And he reached in, keeping both eyes squarely on me.

“Jesus…” I mumbled.  As soon as he closed the door and got himself comfortable in the back, I got out and retrieved a towel from one of my bags in the trunk and rolled it up to use as a pillow.  Laying across the seat with my head under the steering wheel, knees drawn up, and my feet up on the passenger door armrest was very uncomfortable.  Even so, I drifted off in record time.

***

A painful brightness shone through my eyelids, lifting my awareness up to a drowsy and painful state of slumber.  Try as I might, I couldn’t shut the brilliance out of my eyes.  I attempted to raise my right arm to shield the glare but I found that it wouldn’t move.  I turned my head and a sharp pain shot up from the back of my neck up to the top of my head.  I was forced to open my eyes.

My right arm was asleep and I had a hell of a crick in my neck.  Worse, I discovered that I needed to pee more than I’d ever needed to do so in my entire life.  I pushed my legs out, but found that the door wouldn’t let me stretch them all the way out.  I groaned.

Slowly, my consciousness began to seep back into my brain and I began to remember who I was and what I was doing.  I pushed myself up on the seat with my left arm and immediately my right arm began to tingle with a million pin pricks.

I smelled bacon!  And hash-browns!  And, as I sat up in the car seat I saw that we were surrounded by cars in the parking lot.  We must’ve been facing east because the sun was blazing agonizingly through the windshield.  I could barely open my eyes.

“Ugh…” the sound coming from the back seat.  Then I remembered Harvey.

“Hey!” I said, scratching my head.  “Get up.  We need to get back on the road.”

“Ugh…ugh.”  Harvey answered.

I stretched, and a tremor rippled from the top of my head right down to my feet.  “Shit!  I gotta piss…” I said, to no one in particular.  I looked through the windshield, my left hand shielding my eyes and saw through the restaurant’s plate glass window that the restaurant we’d parked at last night was open and full of customers.  I could see that there were quite a few people sitting and walking around inside.  I re-focused and read, “The Rooster’s Crow!” painted in bright red block lettering on the glass.

“Man!  I sure am hungry!” I heard Harvey finally say from the back seat.  “That smells good.”

“Well, I gotta go take a piss before I do anything else.  Then I’ll get a cup of coffee to go.”

“Oh, can’t we eat before we go?”

“Look, I don’t have that kind of money on me.  Plus, I need to get back on the road because I’m on a tight schedule.  So after I piss I’m gonna buy some coffee and start driving.  That is, unless you spring for breakfast.”

“No sorry, I can’t” He said, dejectedly.

“Fine!”  I opened the door and put my shoes back on.  I found that my legs, although a little weak, held me up just fine, and my right arm was almost back to normal.  I slammed the door behind me and headed for the restaurant door.

I walked through the restaurant’s dining room and spied the sign that directed me to the “Men’s” room.  More than a few of the customers gave me a less than casual look, so I assumed they must’ve seen Harvey and me snoozing in the car as they passed us on the way into the café.

After some much needed relief, I splashed my face with cold water and rinsed my mouth out.  I wanted to brush my teeth but I wasn’t about to go back out to the car to retrieve my shaving kit.  Giving myself a once-over in the mirror I decided that I looked halfway decent, despite having a sleep wrinkle adorning my left cheek and forehead.

Walking out of the men’s room I headed for the counter to ask for a large black coffee to go.  The waitress behind the green-speckled countertop hurried over.

“What’cha need, hon?”

“Just a large black coffee to go, please.”

“How ‘bout a nice piece of apple pie to go with that?”

“No, thank you.  Just the coffee will be fine.”

“OK, that’ll be twenty-five cents.  You can pay me when I bring your coffee.”

Coffee in hand, I headed back to the car to resume my trip south.  I climbed in and was surprised to see that Harvey was not in the car.  I hadn’t seen him on my way in or out of the men’s room, so I assumed he’d gone in while I was ordering my coffee.

I sipped my coffee for a few minutes, getting a bit inpatient when Harvey didn’t show up right away.  Suddenly, I looked up and spotted him sitting at the counter in the restaurant.  Setting my coffee on the dash, I stepped out and re-entered the restaurant.  As I approached him I saw that he had a plate of eggs, sausage, hash brown potatoes and toast in front of him.  He was eagerly wolfing down the eggs as I walked up to him.

“What the fuck?  What’re you doing?” I asked angrily.

“Huh?  Oh, I’m eating.  You said you didn’t want any so I thought I’d just get me some breakfast.  I’m hungry!”

I sat on an empty stool next to him, and holding my temper back as best as I could, whispered irritably, “Oh, you’re hungry?  Well I’ll tell you what.  I’m going back to the car and dumping your shit out on the driveway.  You can finish your breakfast then try to hitch a ride to Phoenix from some other schmuck.”

“Wha…?  No, wait!”

I turned away and headed back out to the car.  I noticed some amused smiles on the faces of a couple of customers.  I opened the right rear passenger door and started to pull his sea bag out.

“Wait!” I heard from behind me.  “The waitress is putting my breakfast in a ‘to-go’ container.  I can eat it while we drive.  Wait just a couple of minutes, please.”  He pleaded.

“Well, hurry the fuck up!  I don’t have time for your bullshit.”  He ran back into the restaurant and in a couple of minutes came back out carrying a bright red cardboard box and piled into the car.

“Gee, I’m sorry.  I didn’t think a couple of minutes would make that much difference.”

“Hurry up and eat your breakfast—because when you’re done you’re gonna drive this fucking car!  It’s a goddamn automatic transmission so all you have to do is push on the gas and the brake, and steer the damn thing.  Make believe you’re out on the fucking farm!”

About ten miles south of Kingman Harvey had finally finished his breakfast and I pulled the car off the highway and on to the gravel shoulder.  Harvey reluctantly got out and walked around the front of the car while I slid over to the passenger side of the front seat.

“OK, you do know that the stick on the right side of the steering wheel is the gear selector, right?”  I asked.

“Uh, yeah I think so.”

“So the ‘D’ means ‘Drive’; that’s where you want to pull the stick down to in order to get the car in gear to go forward.”

“OK.”

“Once you do that, make sure your foot is on the brake, the big fat pedal to the left of the left of the flat one, check your side view mirror to make sure no one is coming, and then take your foot off the brake and push gently down on the gas.  Once you’re in the lane, accelerate to about sixty miles an hour and keep it there.  I don’t want to get a speeding ticket because I don’t have the money to pay for it.  Got it?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.  Let’s go.”

It was a complete disaster.  Harvey had absolutely no clue as to what he was doing; after about five miles of crossing over to the oncoming lane on the narrow two-lane highway several times, driving off onto the shoulder, slowing to about thirty miles an hour and then speeding up to over eighty, I finally got tired of yelling at him and told him to pull over.

For the rest of the trip to Phoenix, we avoided talking to or even looking at each other.  I continued to fight off my heavy fatigue and overwhelming drowsiness until I pulled up in front of Harvey’s parents’ house.

He mumbled a curt ‘thanks’, and got out.  As soon as I heard the trunk close I accelerated away without even a glance back.  As I found myself back on Highway 70 East, I made a vow never again to pick up hitchhikers—a vow I’ve kept to this very day.

I settled in for the remaining drive to Houston hoping that the rest of the trip would be uneventful.  Three hours later, as I scanned for traffic in my rearview mirror, I noticed that the back window was clouded over with some unknown substance.  I pulled over to investigate and found that the window was coated with a fine coat of what appeared to be oil.  I stood there wondering where oil would have to come from to mist over my back window.

Restarting the engine, I checked the oil pressure gauge and found it to be well within its normal operating range.  Shutting the engine down again, I popped opened the hood and visually checked the oil dipstick.  Again, I found nothing out of the ordinary.  A little mystified, I resumed driving—hoping that maybe whatever was causing this weird problem would eventually go away.

Ten miles west of the small town of Duncan, Arizona that early Sunday morning of September 18th, I began to hear an odd sound coming from the lower rear end of the car.  Regardless of how fast or slow I drove, the sound—like metal rubbing on metal—kept getting louder.  Worse, I began to feel a slight resistance coming from the rear end—like I was pulling a trailer or something.  I began to panic.

“Oh Lord, what now?”  I prayed out loud, as I passed the Duncan, Arizona, city limits sign.

To be continued…

Okinawa – Part Four

Okinawa

Part Four

January-July 1966

 

Love Begins to Fade

When I left Reno for my eighteen-month assignment at Naha Air Base on Okinawa, I left the bulk of the travel money I’d been issued with Sharon.  My thinking was that she would need the money more than I would as she was tending to the boys and would probably incur more expenses than I would.  And when I received and sent her the nine-hundred-dollar overpayment, putting my career and well-being in jeopardy, I did so thinking that the windfall would enable us to use it as a buffer when the Air Force authorized her and the boys to join me on Okinawa the following year.  What I didn’t count on was that once I left the CONUS (Continental U.S.), her thoughts and feelings were no longer centered on me nor on my welfare.

The pressures and tensions that our marriage had suffered since its ill-conceived inception a few years earlier had predictably taken a toll on its tenuous bonds and the cracks were beginning to show.  After my trip to the post office to question why I hadn’t received any letters from Sharon, and the Military Postal Command’s subsequent response that had all but said, ‘Because she hasn’t written you back, that’s why…’, my feelings for Sharon began to evolve—and not in a good way.

Although I continued to hold out some hope that she would eventually give in and send me at least one money order, each day that passed without a letter only served to increase my growing resentment with her.  Every trip to the post office that found my mail slot empty added to my belief that she didn’t care one iota about what was happening to me.  I kept telling myself that she had to know that I was completely out of money by now, and that I had no way of providing for myself.  Had I not been assigned to a base in a foreign country I would’ve, by now, sought employment off base.  But not only was that impossible in Okinawa, it was prohibited by military regulations.

In late January, I made one more effort to contact her, and seeing that I had one last first-class stamp left, I sat down and wrote her a long letter.  This time, again telling her that I had not received a money order, I explained how I was trying to live without any money.  I described washing my own clothes, getting free haircuts, and trying to make do with what was left of my personal hygiene items.  Because I was using one razor blade every day for a week, I came down with a severe rash, large red welts blossoming on my face, and I had to go on sick call.  The doctor correctly diagnosed my condition as being caused by shaving with old and/or dull blades, and asked me why.  I simply told him that I was trying to save money.  He prescribed a soothing ointment and gave me a medical excuse exempting me from shaving every day for a couple of weeks.  He also insisted that I use a fresh blade every day after I resumed shaving, and to find some other way to be thrifty.  Although I thought about adding this little detail to my letter to Sharon, I resisted the urge.  As with all my other letters, I never received a response to this one either.

Because I could not shave for a couple of weeks, a rather skimpy and wispy (scraggly) beard began to appear on my face.  As the facial hair grew out it began to cover the splotches and discolorations that had appeared on my face, and my appearance gave many officers and non-commissioned officers the impression that I was not shaving because I was lazy, or worse yet, trying to be rebellious.  After a particularly nasty confrontation with a young first lieutenant on the sidewalk as I was leaving work at the Air Defense Center, I took to carrying my medical excuse with me wherever I went.  I admit it was fun to see the expression on some of the officers’ faces as I passed them on my way to and from work or the chow hall; me, popping a very sharp salute as I approached, and them, trying to figure out what I had on my face.  Most of the older officers returned a half-hearted salute while busily focusing on my face, and only the very young and gung-ho officers ordered me to stop and explain my appearance.  I would then pull the medical excuse from my breast pocket and watch them try to figure out if it was legitimate.  A couple of them asked me to point out the now almost invisible welts to them before they were satisfied.  They would then pop to attention, return my salute, and recommend that I should begin shaving again as soon as my medical excuse expired.

By the end of February, I was convinced that I was never going to hear from Sharon again.  My disgust for her apparent lack of any kind of compassion for my situation grew exponentially as the days wore on, but for my own peace of mind I decided to carry on as best I could without wasting too much time thinking about her.  I began to accept that our marriage was all but over, and I expected that the next time I got any word from her it would be in the form of a set of divorce papers.  My sorrow and regret for all things past had all but disappeared, and my feelings for Sharon began to mutate into a dark and deep-seated loathing.

It was about then that a very peculiar, and soon to be recurring, event occurred.

Rescue

One afternoon on the first day of March, as I returned to my room after work, I noticed a small white plastic bag sitting in the center of Nat’s and my writing table.  Nat was working the evening shift so I assumed that he’d left the bag there after making a trip to the Base Exchange.  After taking a short nap, I washed my face and changed out of my uniform and into a not-too-grimy set of jeans and a short-sleeve shirt for my trip to the chow hall and the evening meal.

I returned to my room and began gathering up a couple of uniforms and some underwear to take down to the deep sink to launder when I noticed that there were now two plastic bags on the table.  It struck me as odd because the walk from the Air Defense Center to our barracks took about fifteen minutes, so I knew that Nat would not have had time to return to the room to leave the second bag.  And why would he anyway?

I left my room and made the short trek to the deep sink closet, first checking to make sure the custodians had left the building for the day.  I spent the next thirty-minutes hand-washing and rinsing my clothes, and after wringing them out the best I could, putting them into a large black plastic bag that I’d liberated from the box of trash bags that I’d found in the broom closet at the Air Defense Center.

Returning to my room, I hung my underwear to dry on the makeshift laundry line I’d hung between the top of my clothes locker and the opposite wall.  I held my shorts and T-shirts in place on the line by using large black binder clips which had been used to hold together air defense reports sent up to the division headquarters at the center.  All the while I kept eyeing the two bags on the table.

Finally, as I was beginning to iron a damp set of fatigue pants, curiosity got the better of me.  I walked over to the table and opened one of the bags.  Just inside, I saw what—at first—looked to be a cash register receipt.  Instead, it turned out to be a small hand written note addressed to me:

“Hey Frank, we know you must be running short so here’s some stuff to keep you pretty and smelling good.  AND SHAVE THAT SHIT OFF YOUR FACE!!”

Surprised, I looked inside of the bag and pulled out five packs of razor blades, a small can of aerosol deodorant, two bars of Ivory soap, and a can of shaving cream.  I looked inside of the second bag, and although it did not contain a note, I found a medium tube of toothpaste, a bottle of shampoo, and a small can of Aqua Net hairspray.

Luckily the chair that was usually under the table was just off to the side, because I all but collapsed into it.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  Obviously, my friends had gone to the Base Exchange and bought this stuff for me while I was at work.  I thought for a bit, then realized that this had been the day that the Air Force and Army got paid.

As I removed the items from the bags I noticed something folded up at the bottom of the one containing the toothpaste.  I pulled it out—and what I saw took me by complete surprise.  Folded into a neat little square were five five-dollar bills

Emotionally overwhelmed and not knowing what to think, I sat on my chair in my semi-dark room and began to cry.

***

Since Nat’s shift ended at midnight and mine started at six o’clock in the morning, he was fast asleep when I left for work next morning.  But before leaving, I wrote ‘Thank you, guys!’ onto the back of the note that had been left for me.  That afternoon I ran into Smokey at the chow hall.

“Hey Smokey, what’s going on?”  I asked, setting my tray down on the table.

“Not much.  What’s up with you?”

“Well, for one thing—I shaved this morning for the first time in almost a month.  See?  Ta-da!”  I stroked my chin as I pulled a chair out.

“About fucking time.”  He said, gnawing on a pork chop.

“Hey, if it hadn’t been for you guys I’d still be all shaggy.  Anyway, my medical excuse ran out a couple of days ago.”

He looked up from his chop.  “What do you mean?”

“You know.  The stuff you guys left in my room yesterday.”

“I didn’t leave any stuff.  What the fuck you talking about?”  Holding the chop in front of his nose he squinted his enormous looking eyes, the gesture pulling his upper lip up and exposing his yellowing nicotine-stained teeth.  “You’re mental.”  He sucked some grease off his thumb.

I dug into my pork chop and scooped up a fork full of mashed potatoes.  “Well anyway.  Thanks.  You guys are the greatest.”

Smokey put the chop down.  “Hey, I know I’m pretty cool and all that, but I have no fucking idea what you’re raving about.”

“The stuff!  You know, the stuff you and the guys left in my room from the Base Exchange.”

He balanced some green peas on his butter knife and rolled them into his mouth like marbles.  “OK, if someone left some weird shit in your room it wasn’t me—nor was it anyone I know about.  Maybe you should fucking lock your room in the future.”  He chewed his peas and sort of cocked his head and peeled his enormous eyes at me, looking very much like an interested, but very skinny, dog.

I was about to say something when Peewee and Ramie arrived.

“Hey!”  Smokey said to them.  “This fucker’s complaining because someone left some shit in his room last night.  Did Nat say anything today?”  He directed the question at Ramie.

“Nope!”  It was odd to see Ramie dressed in his green Army fatigues.  “What kinda shit, vato?”

“OK, look.  I don’t know what game you guys are playing, but I do appreciate the stuff you left.  But really, you didn’t have to leave money.”

“Money?”  Peewee exclaimed.  “Someone left you some money?  Holy shit, I’m gettin’ out of the Army and enlisting in the fucking Air Force.  People there leave you money.  Jesus!”

“No shit!”  Ramie said softly, playing with his mashed potatoes.  “When did this happen?  Maybe it was the tooth fairy.  Open up, Pancho!  Let’s see if you’re missing a couple of teeth!”

Everyone but me started laughing.  “Hey,” I protested.  “I’m just saying that I’m grateful!  And you guys absolutely know what the fuck I’m talking about!”

“You know what he’s talking about?” Smokey asked Ramie, who looked over at Peewee.

“Not a fucking clue.”  Peewee said.  “Hey, we gonna eat, or talk about tooth fairies.  If we’re gonna talk about anything I wanna talk about that new naisan down at the ‘Vegas Club!’  Jesus!  She is so fucking fine.”

And that was it.  The conversation immediately turned to who wanted to do what to whom, down in Naminoue.  In a few minutes the meal was over and we left the chow hall heading to our barracks.  As we were walking, Ramie asked, “Hey Pancho, why don’t you pull your guitar out and let’s make some music back in your room.  You and Peewee can do a really fine ‘Michael Row, the Boat Ashore’ duet, you know?”

“OK, but I think Nat might be coming back to the room pretty soon.  I think he’s got a night shift tonight and he may want to sleep.” I said.

“Hey, fuck Nat!” Smokey said, punctuating it with a vicious middle finger salute.  “When we get going ain’t nothing stopping us from putting on a damn fine hootenanny!”

And so, once we got back to my room I pulled my guitar out, and we indeed had ourselves a real damn fine hootenanny.

For the next five months, on the first day of each month, two plastic bags full of toiletries—and twenty-five dollars—mysteriously appeared on my table.  No one ever confessed, but in my heart, I knew where they were coming from.

A Letter—finally

The letter was dated, “July 7, 1966”; and, it was around 3:30pm, on Friday, July 15th, when I pulled the envelope from the mail slot in the squadron’s mail room.

Earlier, I had been relieved from my position at the Air Defense Center at 3:00pm, and because we’d been very busy that day tracking B-52 training flights I had passed on lunch.  Now I was starving.  Walking out into the hot afternoon sun, I had no intention of stopping by the mail room, but because the chow hall didn’t open until 4pm for the evening meal, I decided to burn off a little bit of time by checking my mail instead of waiting in line for the chow hall doors to open.

When I first saw the envelope sitting diagonally in the slot, I groaned internally because I naturally assumed it was from my mother.  I had already received two letters from her that week, so when I saw the envelope I thought that now I would have three letters to answer before the weekend was done.

Gripping the envelope, I immediately noticed that it had a different feel to it.  My mother wrote her letters on 8 ½ by 10-inch loose-leaf paper, and before stuffing the multi-folded sheets into a standard 5 ¾ inch envelope.  In short, her letters all seemed fat, the envelopes almost bursting at the seams.  This letter, however, felt different as my fingers grasped and pulled it out.  It was lighter and thinner, and the envelope had a slight pink tint.

I looked at it, and immediately recognized Sharon’s lofty script.  She left off her name on the upper left return address area of the envelope—penning only her house address and city.  Several stamps of different denominations had been glued willy-nilly onto the upper right corner, and the military postal authorities at Travis Air Force Base had made sure they canceled every one of them by repeatedly slamming a hand stamp over each stamp, almost obliterating their face value.

The letter felt light and thin and I momentarily wondered if in fact there was anything in it at all.

I quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking at me because I seemed to have lost track of time and wondered just how long I’d been standing there.  The mail room was empty and the hands on the clock on the wall had barely moved.

I thought about sitting down before I opened the envelope, but that would’ve required me to walk over to a small desk that was ten or twelve feet away from me.  I told myself that maybe I should just stand.

Realizing that the door was still open to the now empty mail slot, I pushed the glass and brass-framed door until the hasp clicked, then I spun the small combination lock several times to make sure it was locked.

I reached into my pocket and found the small nail clipper that I carried on a link chain with my room keys and exposed the tiny notched blade normally used to trim down the quick on my nails.  Running the blade along the top fold of the pinkish envelope, I exposed a single sheet of folded-over stationery.  Unfolding the sheet, I forced my eyes to slowly read every word and number written on the letter.

July 7, 1966

Frank,

I’ve asked my mother, my sisters, and my lawyer—and they have all said the same thing.  You need to know, and no amount of waiting will make it better.  I don’t know how else to say it, so here goes:

I am seven months pregnant.

I don’t know who the father is, nor do I know how this happened.  But, it is for real.

I guess I could tell you that I’m sorry, but I doubt that you would believe me since I haven’t written to you since you left Nevada for Okinawa and you are probably angry as hell.  But, I am truly sorry.

I’m not sure how you are going to take this, but everyone tells me, and I agree, that what I’ve done is terrible, and not fair to you or the boys.  But, what’s done is done.

Let me know what you want to do about this.

Sharon

I read the letter a second time just to make sure that what I’d read was what had been written.  It was.

I recall taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out.  Then, without thinking, and completely unexpectedly, I said aloud to no one in particular, “Way to go, Sharon.  Way to go.”

The mail slots were in a small building which also housed the office of the squadron’s First Sergeant.  So again, without giving my actions much thought I walked through a small vestibule and up to a door that was marked, “1st Sergeant”.  The door led to a small ante room where an Air Force orderly was seated.  He looked up from his typewriter.

“Can I help you?” he asked, quizzically.

“Yes,” I said, again not thinking about what I was doing.  “I have something here that I’d like to show the first sergeant.”

“What is it?”

“A letter.”

“A letter from who?”

“My wife.”

“What’s it say?”

“I’d rather discuss that with the first sergeant.  Can I see him?”

“You don’t have an appointment, do you?”

“No, I just got this letter.”

A door behind the orderly suddenly opened and a large gray-haired sergeant emerged.  “What’s the problem out here?”  He said, sounding slightly annoyed.  I’d never seen him before, but he immediately reminded me of a red-faced English bulldog.

The orderly got up rapidly from his chair and turned to face the sergeant.  “This airman says he wants to see you because he wants to show you a letter from his wife.  I told him he needs an appointment.”

The sergeant looked over the top of the orderly.  “You want to see me?  Now?”

“Yes sir!” I said.

“And, you want to show me a letter from your wife?”

“Yes sir.”

“What’s it say?”

“I’d rather you read it in private, sir.”  The sergeant’s brow went all wrinkly and his eyes narrowed.

“You do, huh? OK, come on in” he said suddenly.  Then he added, “This better be important.”

“I think it is,” I said, walking past the orderly and following the sergeant into his office.

Before he sat back down at his desk, he pointed to a small leather chair near the corner of his desk.

“Where’s the letter?”  He asked, as he scanned his desk for his reading glasses.

I handed him the letter and sat down.  It took him just a few seconds to do a first read on Sharon’s short letter, and as he finished he looked over the letter at me.

He cleared his throat loudly, and his eyes went back to the letter.

After a second reading, he put the letter down and took his glasses off.  “Are you OK?” he asked quietly.

“I’m fine.” I said, as I crossed my legs.

“She says here she’s never written you.   Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been here?  On Okinawa, I mean?”

Before I could answer, he spoke again suddenly.  “See, that’s why an appointment is necessary.  I like to check the files before I speak to anyone.  I’m sorry, but I know you work for Sergeant Resor, and that’s about it.”

“That’s OK.  I arrived at Naha in late October last year.”

“And, you’ve never heard from your wife until now?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Have you written her?”

“Yes, several times.  But when she never answered, I stopped writing.”

“Hmm.  So…so, what is it that you want me to do?”

“I don’t know.  I thought that maybe you’d have some ideas.  I don’t know.”

“Does Resor know about this?”

“No.  No one knows.  I just got the letter.  A few of my friends know she hasn’t written. But no, no one knows about this.”  He got up from his desk and handed me the letter.  I folded it and put it back in the envelope.

“OK,” he said.  “I’m not sure what to do at this point, but for sure I’ll have to brief the squadron commander.  Do you want to go home on leave and try to straighten this out with her?”

“Um, I haven’t had time to think about it, but I would say no right now.  What am I gonna do there?  I don’t even know who she is anymore.”

“I don’t know, maybe try to work things out?”

“Nothing to work out.  She’s pregnant and doesn’t know who the father is.  What else is there?”

“True.  OK, you sure you’re OK?  Right?”

“Yes sir, I’m fine.  Actually, I feel better now that I’ve heard from her.  I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.  I need a little help there, I guess.  I’m worried about my boys.”

“OK, if you’re sure you’re OK I’m gonna let you go back to your barracks.  Do you think you may need some duty time off?”

“No.”

“OK, as long as you think you can still do your duty.  So, let me discuss this with the commander and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, sir.”  I stood up, snapped to attention, and walked out of his office.

As I exited the building I suddenly remembered how hungry I was.  I stuffed the letter into my pocket and headed for the chow hall.

I looked for a table where no one else was sitting and found one in a far corner of the massive dining room and sat down hoping that no one would see me.  As I ate, I noticed that I was incredibly at ease and I felt as though a large weight had been lifted off my shoulders; I wondered why I felt this way.  I had just received a letter from my wife, after not hearing from her for over nine months; and in it she had delivered what most men would perceive as horribly devastating news.  Yet, I felt a strange and overwhelming calm.  It wasn’t happiness, but it was as close to relief as I’d felt in a long time.

Things Turn Around

I didn’t tell my friends about the letter; in fact, I didn’t even mention that I’d heard from Sharon at all, but they noticed a definite change in my overall demeanor.  In fact, during my bi-weekly hair appointment with Roomie he mentioned the change and asked me if I’d heard from the payroll department.

“No,” I told him, “But I should start getting my regular pay in a couple of months.”

“Cool, because you owe me so much money your first five paychecks will be coming to me.”

I was almost sure he was kidding, but before I could say anything he chuckled and said, “Ha!  Had your ass going for a little bit, didn’t I?”

“Well…”

“You dumb shit!  You don’t owe me anything.  I’ve made so much money off the other guys when they saw how beautiful you ended up looking that I’m booked up for weeks now.”

“Glad to hear it.  You are a great barb…um…hair stylist.”

A week after I’d spoken to the First Sergeant I was notified that he wanted to see me again.  I was granted official time off one of my duty days to meet with him.

“OK, so I’ve spoken to the squadron commander and here’s what we’re willing to offer.  We can grant you ten days of emergency leave and get you booked on a military flight to and from Reno for you to see your wife.  The snag is that we are unable to get this approved right away.  So, if you want to leave, say…within a week or two, you can, but you’ll have to pay your own way.”

“I don’t want to go now.  I don’t have any money to buy an airline ticket anyway.”  I responded.

“Right, that’s what I thought.  For the Air Force to fund your travel you’ll probably have to wait until sometime around September.  I don’t have the exact timeframe, but I’ve been assured that September is a viable date.”

I thought for a few seconds and thought that maybe by then my pay would have resumed.  “OK, that may work out for me, but I won’t know for sure until we get closer in.”

“OK, let me know as time goes on.  Secondly, what we can do right away is set you up for a MARS call to your wife’s home in Reno.”  (The Military Auxiliary Radio System (MARS) was a Department of Defense sponsored program, established as a separately managed and operated program by the U.S. Army, and the U.S Air Force.)  “That way, you can at least talk to her and both of you can start to figure out what you may want to do about this problem.  The call will be limited to about ten minutes, but at least you can get started on a solution.”

“No, I don’t want to talk to her on the phone.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“May I ask why?”

“What would I say to her?  What would I ask her?  She’s already said she doesn’t know who the father is, which I think is a lie, and she would only continue to deny it.  No, I’d rather just face her and settle this in person.”

“OK, you know that based on the information she gave you, she’s probably due to have that baby in September.  You know that, don’t you?”

“Well, now that you mention it.”

“What if she gives birth before you arrive?  What then?”

“I don’t know.  I guess we’ll find out in September.”

“All right.  So you want me to tell the commander that you’re willing to wait until September to take your ten days of emergency leave, and at this time you don’t want to use MARS to call her?”

“Yes.”

“Do you plan to write her back?”

“Oh, I will…but not right away.  I’ll write her back sometime before I leave on my emergency leave.”  Hearing this, the first sergeant’s brow went all wrinkly again.

“You sure?  I know you’re probably pissed and maybe hurt, but are you sure you want to keep her waiting for an answer?”

“Sure, why not?  She kept me waiting for nine months.”

He dismissed me and authorized my not returning back to work for the rest of the day.  I almost refused, but then I thought I’d just go back to my room and catch a quick nap before the evening meal.

And if things weren’t weird enough already…

***

At work, it was announced that our squadron was now in competition with other squadrons on the base for the highest percentage of participation in the annual United Fund Campaign.  On the morning of the campaign’s kickoff, and before we were allowed to relieve the midnight shift, the Air Force base commander, some general whom I’d never seen before, gave us a “rousing” (or so he thought) speech on why this charity drive was so important.  He informed us that the squadron who ended up with the highest participation (“it’s not how much you give, it’s how many of us give”) would win a really nifty plaque which would then be mounted on a wall in the hallway right outside of our control room.  And as a special treat, the chow hall pastry chef would be commissioned to bake a distinctive cake decorated with the winning squadron’s logo carved into the yummy icing—from which we should all get a very nice little slice.

As with all the other rah-rah speeches preceding the various and sundry charity drives, this one was received by our group with the usual high level of disinterest: large hyena-like yawns and huge amounts of genital pulling and scratching.  Contrary to our normal behavior, we couldn’t wait for the speech to end so we could get to work.

At the end of the presentation we all got our very own personalized donation envelope and, even though it was completely voluntary, we were urged to reach down “really deep” into our pockets and give until it hurt.

I stuffed the envelope into my back pocket and headed for the control room.  A few hours later, the shift officer, a newly arrived master sergeant, approached me at my position on the daïs.

“Hey airman.  I’m picking up the United Fund envelopes if you’ve already made your donation.  If not, then I’ll be by tomorrow.”

“Sure, here’s mine.  Unfortunately, I don’t have any money to donate.”  I handed him the empty envelope.  He looked at it and focused primarily on my name printed on the front.

“Airman DeLeón, is it?”

“Yes sir.”

“And, you are refusing to give to the United Fund.”  He generated his best unhappy scowl.

“No sir.  I would love to contribute, but I just don’t have any money.”

“Well then, take this back and bring it in tomorrow after you’ve put your contribution in tonight.”

“Well sir, as I said, I don’t have any money.  Neither in my pocket now nor in my room later.”

“You do understand that the amount of the contribution is not the point.  It’s the level of participation that’s important.”

“Yes sir, I understand that.”

“So, dig into your pocket and put a dime into the envelope.”

“I don’t have a dime.”

“A nickel.”

“I don’t have a nickel.”

“A fucking penny, then!”

“Sorry sir, I don’t even have a penny.”  The look on his face had changed from a disapproving scowl to simmering rage.

“Airman!  You are on the verge of insubordination!  Do you understand that?”

“Sir.  It is not my intention to be insubordinate.  I just don’t have any money.  Sorry.”

“So you fucking spend every cent you get in your paycheck on what?  Whores and booze?  Is that what you’re telling me?!”

“No sir! Not at all.”

“Then what is it you do with your money?”  By now, the main point of interest in the control room had shifted from the air traffic displayed on the electronic board, to the growing verbal exchange between me and the very disturbed sergeant.

“Sir, I don’t get a paycheck.  Haven’t seen one since late last year.”

“OK!  That’s enough!  Come with me!”

“Sir, I can’t leave my position without proper relief.  Sorry.”

“AIRMAN!  I AM ORDERING YOU TO FOLLOW ME…NOW!!”  Since the entire control room was witness to my being ordered to leave my position by a superior officer I decided to comply.

“Sure.  Where would you like for me to go.”  I don’t believe the sergeant was in complete control of his actions as he turned abruptly, nearly upending the airman with whom I was working next to.

I followed him as he led me out through the main doors of the control room and asked me to wait in the hallway.  He stomped away in the direction of the Air Defense Center’s commanding officer’s office.

A few minutes later, a female airman walked up to me.  “Airman DeLeón?”

“Yes.”

“Please follow me.”

“Where to?”

“The colonel would like to speak to you.  Please come with me.”

“OK.”  I followed her down the hallway and in though a large glass door marked, “Commander”.  She ushered me through another set of wooden doors and into a spacious office where a highly decorated bird colonel was sitting.  The master sergeant, now somewhat calmed down, was standing next to the colonel’s desk.

I popped to attention.  “Airman DeLeón, reporting sir.”

“At ease, airman.” The colonel said.  He was holding my wrinkled and very empty United Fund donation envelope.  “The good sergeant here tells me you were a bit insubordinate with him regarding your refusal to give to the United Fund.”

“Sir…permission to speak plainly.”

“Of course.  Please do.”

“Sir, it was not my intention to be insubordinate.  I tried to explain to the sergeant that I just don’t have any money.”

“OK, I understand that.  Since you’ll get paid next week can I ask you to set aside a few cents for a contribution?  The drive will not end for another two weeks, or so.”

“OK, as much as I’d like to contribute I will also be unable to do so next week.  See, I don’t get a paycheck.”  The colonel’s look went from kind and understanding, to confused.

“What do you mean, you don’t get a paycheck?”

“I haven’t received a paycheck since November of last year.”  He looked a bit confused but seemed to be really trying to understand what I was saying.

“Come again?”

“That’s it, sir.  No pay for almost nine months.”  He didn’t say a word for what seemed to be a full minute.  He just stared at me while turning the empty envelope over and over in hands.

Finally, he said slowly, “You know…all I have to do is pick up the phone to verify that what you’ve told me is a lie.  You know that, don’t you?”

“Sir, with all due respect, you can call anyone you want.  I haven’t gotten a paycheck for a long time.”  The colonel pushed his large leather chair back and stood up.

“Airman, please take a chair outside.  I’ll call you back in after I make some calls.”

“Yes sir!”  I popped to attention and snapped a very sharp salute, then I walked out into the outer room.  I didn’t have long to wait.

“Airman DeLeón!”  The master sergeant, now wearing a very different expression on his face called me.  “Would you please join us?”  I walked back into the colonel’s office.  I noticed my empty donation envelope had been placed on the edge of the desk, and the colonel had a yellow legal pad in front of him.  The top page was filled with a lot of scribbling.

“At ease, airman,” the colonel said softly.  “Have you told anyone about your non-pay status?”

“Well sir, Sergeant Resor, my immediate supervisor, should know.  He and my past commanding officer worked out this arrangement after my overpayment was discovered.”

“Yes, I know all about that now.  What did you do with the money?

“I sent it to my wife with instructions to send me a little money every month for me to live on, but she never did.  She kept the all the money.”

Let me ask you—what have you been living on for the last nine months?”

“Well sir, I’d rather not say.”

“Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist, airman.”  He said, a bit sternly.

“I..uh…my friends have been supporting me.  They’ve been buying me stuff at the Base Exchange, like soap and such, and have been donating twenty-five dollars a month to me since I stopped getting paid.  Also, I wash my own clothes, and one of the Army guys in my barracks gives me haircuts.  They also take me downtown and buy me dinner and drinks every once in a while.  That’s how.”

The colonel shook his head slowly.  “Unbelievable…”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who made the decision to completely cut your pay to zero?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m going to find out, that’s for sure.  But for now, I’ve ordered the Finance Office to disperse a hundred dollars in cash to you immediately.  When we’re done here, you are dismissed from duty for the rest of the day, and you are go to the Finance Office directly.  When you arrive, show your ID card and mention my name.  If they refuse to give you the funds, I want you to call me immediately.”

Everything was happening so fast I didn’t know what to say…so I just said, “Yes, sir.”

I left the colonel’s office and reported to the control room.  I advised the shift officer that I’d been excused from duty, but he already seemed to know.  Then I walked the eight blocks to the Finance Office, identified myself, and immediately received ten crisp ten-dollar bills.  I walked back out and hailed a base taxi to chauffer me back to my barracks.

***

A few days later, I found out through the grapevine that a civilian employee working at the Finance Office had been terminated, Sergeant Resor and a couple of past and present line officers had all received Letters of Reprimand in their files.  Also procedures, which apparently existed but had not been implemented in my case, were to be immediately reviewed by all supervisory personnel regarding overpayments to enlisted airmen.

These procedures stipulated that when an overpayment had been made and was not immediately recoverable, the recipient would be required to pay back the overpayment in equal monthly amounts.  However, in no case would the recipient be required to live without a stipend being paid to him by the U.S. Air Force.  That stipend, ten dollars, would come out of a general fund and be dispersed to the recipient on a monthly basis until the deficit was settled.  At that time, repayment of the monthly ten-dollar stipend would commence until the total amount was satisfied.

Obviously, and in my case, someone either missed or completely ignored, that little procedure.

The Ice Breaks

The afternoon after I’d received my hundred-dollar stipend, Nat came into our room wearing a very concerned expression and asked if I was OK.  I told him I was fine but wondered why he was asking.

“Well, word spread like wildfire after that dickhead reamed your ass out over not being able to contribute to the United Fund Drive.  After he dragged your ass out, we all figured you were going to get demoted or something.  Everything turn out OK?”

“Well, yes and no.”

“Fuck man, which is it?”

“Mostly OK, I’d say—but I’d like to get everyone together tonight, or whenever we can, because I need to share some news.”

“OK, I know Smokey’s off work but I’m not sure about Ramie, Peewee, or Roomie.  You want me to check?”

“Could you?  While you do that I gotta run over to the snack bar and get a Coke.  Why don’t you see if you can get the guys together and then let me know.”

“Will do.”  Nat left the room on his way over to the Army side of our barracks, and I headed down to the snack bar.

Because it was still early in the afternoon, the cute and petite, but always angry, Okinawan girl was still working at the snack bar.  As usual, she was not behind the counter where she belonged, but instead was sitting at a small table that was supposed to be for paying customers.  She was reading a small gray book and writing notes into a ringed memo pad.  I walked up to the counter and waited for her to get up and wait on me.

As was her habit, she completely ignored me and continued to read and write on the pad.  After a few minutes, I decided to approach her.

“Excuse me, could I get a Coke to go?”  She appeared to take greater interest in what she was doing and continued to ignore me.  “Excuse me!”  Again, no response.  She took the short pencil and used the lead end to satisfy an itch that had suddenly come up in her scalp.  I noticed that she was wearing her hair in two short pony-tails—each tied off with a rubber-band tie-up, decorated with little plastic daisies.  They reminded me of Roomie’s flip-flops.  Then I thought I’d try something novel.

“Suminasen? Tetsudatte itadakemasu ka?”  (Excuse me, can you help me?)

Her head jerked up and she dropped her pencil.  “Nani?!” (What?!)  She asked, eyes wide.  “Nihongo o wakarimasu ka?” (Do you know Japanese?)

“Sukoshi…” I said, making the “little” gesture with my thumb and forefinger.

“Ahh, sodesu ka.”  (Oh, is that so?)

“Yes, I’ve learned just a little bit since I’ve been here on Okinawa.  I see you’re studying English.  How’re you coming along with that?”

“Mmm, sore wa hijo ni muzukashi, ne?”  (Um, it’s very hard, isn’t it?)

That one threw me.  “Oh sorry, I’m not that good.  I didn’t get that.”

“It’s…vedy haawwd.”  She said slowly.  I looked at her closely, and for the first time I saw how pretty she really was.

“Oh, hard!  Yes, English is very hard.  I also speak Spanish, and sometimes I wonder how people who are learning English do it.”

“Eh?”  She asked, cocking her head.

“Oh, nothing.  Yes, English is hard.”

“Hai…”  (Yes…)

“Anyway, can I have a Coke to go, please?”

“Hai!”  And she quickly got up from the table and stepped behind the counter.  She handed me a can and I gave her a dollar.  For the first time since I’d been in the barracks she didn’t throw the change back at me.  “Domo arigato.”  I said.

“You’re welcome.”  She said in return.

When I got back to my room Nat was still gone, so I sat on my bed and pulled Sharon’s letter out again.  No matter how many times I read it I had the same thought.  The news should’ve devastated me but for some odd reason I felt nothing.  Maybe, I thought, I’m still in a bit of shock given all that’s occurred in the past few days.

The door suddenly flew open and the guys came pouring in.  Smokey seemed in a particularly jovial mood and immediately jumped on me, putting me in a head lock.  Although my ears were partially blocked by his skinny forearms and his bony ribcage, I could still hear Roomie screaming like a girl for Smokey to let me go because he was messing up my hair, and Jesus Christ, he’d just have to fix it up all over again.  Smokey finally released me—but not before giving me a good noogie.  Handshakes and hugs all around and we finally settled down.

“OK guys, I have some news!”  I announced.

“What?  Wait, lemme guess!”  Ramie said.  “You’re gonna go after that little gook bitch in the snack bar, right?”

“What?”  I asked, surprised.

“Yeah, I saw you sweet-talking her in the snack bar a while ago.  She was actually smiling after you left, you sly fucker.”

To be continued…

 

 

Okinawa – Part Three

Okinawa

Part Three

November 1965-January 1966

 

The Waiting Game

With the letter and the money order for nine-hundred dollars sent off, I concluded that the only thing that was left for me to do was to wait.  I knew that eventually the Finance Office would discover their error and come looking for me—but I also knew what I would tell them, having run through it repeatedly in my head for the past few days.

So, for the next few days I stuck with my newly emerging routine: going to work and getting better at my official duties, coming home to the barracks and hanging out with Nat and the guys, and finally, trying to get familiar with the Okinawan people, the local customs, and the language.

Even though I’d been somewhat disappointed by the island when I first arrived, after a few weeks the place began to grow on me.  I found myself taking interest in the geography of the island, and wondered how it must’ve been for the World War Two soldiers who had to fight their way from one end of the island to the other.

I learned that we hadn’t been fighting the Okinawan people, but rather the Japanese Army who had taken over the island and brainwashed the locals into believing that the Americans were merciless monsters who would indiscriminately murder the men, viciously dismember children, and rape the women.  I discovered that most of the Okinawans were a gentle, hardworking, and gracious people.  Even the seemingly hard-nosed bar girls, once removed from their nighttime dog-eat-dog nightclub environment, were incredibly normal and exceedingly polite when out in public.

Most of the people I had contact with during my first few weeks were lower-income: shop keepers, taxi drivers, waiters and waitresses, and of course our crew of custodians who took care of our huge barracks building.  I found that at first, they tended to be shy—probably because of their limited use and understanding of English—but as soon as they sensed that I wanted to learn to communicate with them in their language their shyness faded away.

The only notable exception was the petite, pale-skinned girl who worked in the snack bar in our barracks.  No matter what approach I used: nice, rude or non-committal, her demeanor never changed.  She was consistently ill-mannered, and always gave me and all her other customers the impression that she was angry, short-tempered, and not in any mood to be trifled with.  I often wondered how she kept her job.

After several trips over the next few weeks to Naha’s bar district—Naminoue—I found myself getting quickly bored with the same old routine.  It was a constant battle fighting off the bar girls who insisted that because they chose to sit next to me I should buy them their drinks.  Three or four drinks later one would find himself without funds; after which even the most insistent bargirl quickly lost interest.

Most of the guys outside of my little group, particularly the new arrivals, seemed to believe that if they spent enough money on a bargirl, or two, it automatically entitled them a night of sexual enjoyment.  I’m not going to say it never worked, but they would’ve done much better and spent a whole lot less money by just going to one of the “hotels” on the outskirts of the bar district and asking the proprietor for a “naisan short-time”.  The going rate ran about two dollars for a “short-time”, or twenty bucks for an “around the world”.  An “all-nighter” was almost unheard of, and was probably well beyond most of our salaries.  Although most of the girls who worked the hotels were usually not as attractive as the bargirls were, satisfaction was almost always guaranteed.

Soon tiring of the bar scene, on my off days I began to make trips into the city of Naha by myself, usually just walking and not taking taxis.  I avoided the bars, and instead spent time checking out the small stores and shops where the locals did their daily shopping.

I discovered some very fine, if not infinitesimally small, eateries where the dishes were not only delicious, but also inexpensively priced, and I found myself visiting them several times a week.  At first the proprietors, usually an older married couple, tried to “bum-rush” me out—thinking that perhaps I had mistakenly entered their establishment thinking it was a bar.  But, after several explanatory gestures and a couple of Japanese phrases that I’d learned, I would usually convince them that I was there to eat, after which I was warmly welcomed.  And once they saw how handy I was with ohashi (chopsticks) all precautions seemed to disappear.

Most pleasing of all, I realized one day that except for those times when I found myself stepping over an open one, I had become mostly immune to the unsettling odors emanating from the benjos paralleling almost every street.

So before I knew it, November turned into December and I realized that I had yet to receive a money order from Sharon.  Actually, I hadn’t heard from Sharon at all.  And worse, I found that I was just a few dollars short of being dead broke.

***

I quickly penned another letter to Sharon, as I had been doing just about every day, but this time I stressed that if I didn’t receive the twenty-five-dollar money order in the next few days I would be completely out of funds.  Since I had not heard from her at all I assumed that the post office, either in Reno or at the military postal center on Okinawa, had somehow messed up the deliveries.

As I finished writing this latest letter I decided that instead of just dropping it in a mail receptacle the next day, I would hand-carry it directly to the military postal center on the base.  That way I would ask and maybe be able to find out where the snag in my mail delivery was.

The following day, I left work and walked the ten blocks to the postal center.  I waited in line for about fifteen minutes and finally walked up to the window where an Army private greeted me.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” He asked cheerfully.

“Hi, well first I’d like to post this letter to my wife if I could.”

“Oh, sure!” He said, reaching for the letter.  “Reno?  OK, she should get this in about five days.  Anything else?”  He asked as he slid the envelope into a slot labeled, ‘Stateside’.

“Oh, yes.  Listen, I haven’t received a letter from home and I was wondering if there’s some kind of problem with mail delivery to my barracks.”

“Let me check.  What’s your barracks number?”

I gave him the number and he excused himself as he stepped away from the counter.  “DeLeón, Right?”  He asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Uh, yes.  Airman Second Class.”

“OK, hold on.” And he disappeared behind through a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only!”

I expected to see him return with a handful of letters in his hand, but about five minutes later he reappeared empty-handed.

“Sorry, airman.  I didn’t find anything with your name on it.  Are you sure she’s writing?  Did she tell you when her letters were sent?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve yet to receive a letter from her.  Not one.”

“Hmm.  How long since you’ve been here?”

“I got here in late October…and I’ve written her just about every day.  But…I’ve not received any response.  You know?”

He kind of looked at me sadly.  “Oh, I see.  OK look, I’ll send a query back up through Anchorage, then stateside to see if somehow your mail is getting hung up.  I’ll expedite it since you haven’t received any mail at all.”

“Oh, well that’s not entirely true.  I’ve received several letters from my mom, but nothing from my wife.  So…you know…I was…I was thinking that maybe the Reno post office is screwed up somehow because I’m getting mail from Houston.”

“Oh…”  He said softly.  “OK, look.  I’m still gonna send the query, but are you sure your wife has written?  I mean…it’s none of my business, but did you guys part on good terms?”

“Good terms?  Well…sure.  I mean, we weren’t mad at each other—or anything like that.  No, nothing like that.  It’s just that I sent her some money and I want to make sure she got it OK.  But…I haven’t heard.”

“I’ll do the best I can, but in the meantime, you need to contact someone who lives close to your wife to see if everything is alright.  You know what I mean?”

“Sure, yes—that’s a good idea.  I’ll do just that.”  I said, knowing that there was no one in Reno that I could contact.  “Thanks for your help.”  I said, turning sharply as I walked away.

“Hey!  If I find something I’ll get in touch with you, OK?”

“Sure…thanks.”  I said dejectedly over my shoulder.  I walked slowly out into the bright Okinawan sunshine and started the long walk back to my barracks…the small lump in my throat that had suddenly appeared stubbornly refused to go away.

A couple of days later I spent the last of my money at the base exchange on a bar of soap and a five-pack of razor blades.  I was now officially broke, with no hope of being paid for another ten months.

***

The days dragged by one by one, and I became just a little more depressed every time I checked the mail slot and found nothing from Sharon.  Mom’s letters, arriving just about every other day, failed to cheer me up and I finally stopped reading them altogether.  Seeing the growing pile of colorfully stamped envelopes—my name and rank written in my mother’s familiar child-like scrawl—brought a bitter feeling of despair instead of the joy that was intended.

Two weeks after completely running out of money, I walked into the mailroom and saw an envelope that didn’t look at all like something my mother would send.  My heart skipped a beat and I spun the little combination lock hurriedly, anxious to yank the glass door open and pull Sharon’s letter out.

It was addressed to me—but the sender’s name and address was not what I expected: “Military Postal Command, Travis Air Force Base, CA”.

My heart sank.

I ripped open the envelope and read the short message.  It explained that in response to the query sent by the Main Military Postal Center at Naha Air Base, Naha, Okinawa, no letters addressed to A2C Frank DeLeón, originating from Sharon L. DeLeón, had been found in the “dead letter” department nor anywhere else.  It advised that I should contact the Reno Post Office and request further information about missing letters.  Blah, blah, blah…

For a long time, I sat on the edge of my bunk in my darkening room thinking about my future.  I thought that maybe I should just go to the Finance Office, confess my larcenous intentions, and beg for mercy.  At least if I was thrown into jail I would have my most basic needs met.  But my shame paralyzed and overwhelmed me, so I just sat there in the dark for the next few hours.  As it turned out, I didn’t have long to wait.

The next day, while on my lunch break at work, I was summoned to meet with Sergeant Resor.  He met me in his small office next to the control room.

“Sit down, Frank.”  He said, after I reported in.  He was holding a sheet of paper that appeared to have only a couple of sentences written on it.  “I received this message this morning from our squadron commander, and he in turn received it from the commander of finance on the base.  Could you read this and explain to me what it means, please?”

I took the sheet from him and began to read what I already knew it said.  My heart was pumping wildly and suddenly all the things I had planned to say completely disappeared from my memory.

“Uh, yeah…”  I stuttered, handing the sheet back to him, “it says I was paid nine-hundred dollars in error on my last pay check.  It should’ve been ninety dollars.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“You were given a check for nine hundred dollars instead of ninety dollars?”

“Yes, I was.”

He looked up from the sheet of paper and looked directly into my eyes.  “Frank.  Do you still have that check?”

“No.”

“What did you do with it?”

I squirmed in my chair and a queasy feeling began to rise from my gut into my chest.  I took a deep breath trying to push the feeling back down.  “Well…I went to the credit union, opened an account, and cashed it out.”

A look of relief washed over his face.  “Oh, thank God!  Then you still have the money?  So, you cashed the check and deposited it into your new account, right?”

“Well…”  I stammered, “well, not exactly.”

“No?  Well, what exactly did you do with the money then?”

“I…ah…bought a money order and sent the money to my wife back home.”

“You…what?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.  But see here’s what I thought.”

He didn’t seem interested to hear what I had to say, but instead blurted out sternly.  “You know you can be court-martialed for this, don’t you?”

My bowels almost let loose.  “Oh…I never thought…about…”

“Well, it’s painfully obvious that you didn’t think!  My God!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can you get the money back from her?  She didn’t spend it all, did she?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“No, see…she hasn’t written me back yet…so I don’t know.”

“OK!  You did this…why?”

“Well, I knew it was a gross overpayment, you know.  But I thought that if I played dumb and sent the money to my wife…then…uh…she could, you know, like send me a little bit back each month…well, we could save a lot of it.  I was thinking that maybe when I was able to bring her and my boys to Okinawa, we’d have most of that money put away.”

“That just doesn’t make any good sense, Frank!  You gambled your Air Force career on no one finding out about this?”

“NO!”  I almost yelled out.  “I knew that eventually someone would discover the overpayment—and when they did, I wouldn’t get paid anymore until it was made up.  So, I asked my wife to send me twenty-five dollars a month, since I was probably not going to be getting paid anymore for a long time.  See, I figured that twenty-five dollars was all I would need after they found out—because, well, I get my food and lodging—and all I need over that is a little money for personal expenses.  See?”

He stared at me for what seem to be several very long and hard minutes.  “I don’t know what to say, Frank.  That has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah…I know.  I shouldn’t have done it—I guess.”

“So, you haven’t received any money from her yet?  It’s been almost two months.”

“Uh, well…no…not yet.  But, I know I should be getting something from her soon.  You know, it takes the letters to and from Reno a long time to go back and forth.”

“Do you have any money now?”

“Oh!  Money?  Oh, sure!  I’m good.  See…still have some of my travel money, and I’m using that.  Yeah, I’m OK.”  I thought that sounded better than telling him I was dead broke.

He looked back at the paper and sighed deeply.  After a minute or so, he said, “Look, the commander left this for me to sort out.  So, I’ll just explain to him that you thought the nine hundred dollars was for travel and you sent the money home to your wife.  I will also tell him that you agree not to receive any monthly payments until that amount of overpayment has been paid back; since you will be receiving the money back from your wife on a monthly basis.  I don’t know if I can convince him not to refer you to the Adjutant General (military district attorney) for what you did, but I truly believe you didn’t do this with any malice aforethought.  I promise I’ll do my best.  From what I’ve seen, you’re a good kid and I don’t think you had any bad intentions.  You just made a really stupid decision.”

“OK, Sergeant Resor…thank you.  And, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well forget about that for now and let me work with the colonel on this.  But I just want to make sure that you will not end up having no money at all.  Please tell me that your wife has agreed to this arrangement.”

“Oh yes!  I mean, I’m sure she has.  It’s just that I haven’t heard back from her yet.  But when I do I’ll for sure have the first twenty-five bucks.  But see, I told her there was no real hurry since I’m still good.  So, it may be a few more days before I hear from her.”  My lie was so convincing that I almost believed it myself.

“All right.  Let me work this out with the boss.  I’m confident the issue will stay in our squadron since he doesn’t want a black mark on his career either.  Court martials tend to be messy and have been known to cause a lot of collateral damage—particularly to general officers’ careers.  OK, you’re dismissed.”  He got up and quickly left the room.

I don’t remember getting up from the table or walking out of the room, but I know that I spent a good amount of time in the men’s room.  I wasn’t sure whether I needed to sit on the pot or kneel in front of it.

Roomie Creates a Style

In a matter of days, the issue had been resolved.  Sergeant Resor asked me to sign a document that said that was agreeing to the fact that I had received ten month’s pay in advance in one lump sum, and that I understood that the Finance Office would make no further payments until the nine hundred dollar deficit had been satisfied.  In short, for the next ten months I would not receive any pay.  If I agreed to those terms, then the military would take no further action against me.

Still believing that the monthly twenty-five-dollar stipend would soon be arriving from Sharon, and assured that a court-martial was no longer in play, I happily signed the document.

My upbeat mood was short-lived considering that I was now completely out of money, so as I returned to my room, I sat down and began to do some long-range budget planning.

For starters, my trips to Naha would have to stop.  With no money for taxis to transport me from and to the base, and I could no longer afford the luxury of eating or drinking out.  Since I could no longer afford to send my uniforms out for laundry and dry cleaning, I scouted out some makeshift laundry facilities in my barracks and found that the small room with a deep sink that the janitorial crew used to rinse out their mops and wash rags should do nicely.  Surely, they would not even miss the small amount of detergent that I would be using to wash my uniforms and underwear about once a week.  In addition, my roommate, Nat, had an iron that I was sure he would be more than happy to lend me should I need to use it.

What seemed to be a bigger problem was that of my personal hygiene; i.e. blades for shaving, deodorant, bath soap and shampoo, and those pesky little haircuts that the military required us to get once every couple of weeks.  After checking my supply of toiletries, I found that I had a few blades left in a cartridge, one bar of soap that should last me about a month, one can of aerosol deodorant that was almost new, and about half a bottle of shampoo.  So if I didn’t hear from Sharon soon it looked like I would be OK for the next few weeks—except for haircuts.

With my tentative plan in place, I resumed a greatly altered lifestyle.  I regularly turned down my friends’ invitations to go downtown after work, excusing myself by telling them that I was too tired or wasn’t in the mood.  Instead, I became a three, and sometimes, four-meal-a-day regular at the chow hall.  I began checking out books at the base library and devoted my after-shift hours and days off to reading and sleeping—and of course, playing my guitar.

On my weekends, having noted that it was when the custodians were least likely to be using the deep sink, I took to hand washing my clothing.  Because I didn’t have any, I couldn’t starch my fatigues like I preferred to, but I made sure to iron a set just before my shift started so they’d look fresh.

One Friday evening, after turning down yet another invitation to accompany my buddies downtown, Roomie came bouncing back into my room.

“Hey gorgeous!  What’cha doing?”  He cheerfully asked.

“Oh nothing,” I said, rolling off my bed and marking my page in a book of Edgar Allen Poe short stories. “Just catching up on some reading.  How about you?  Why aren’t you with the guys down in Naha?”

“Aw shit, you know.  All they want to do is barhop and flirt with the naisans hoping to get laid.  And you know Ramie, he’s just a cockhound, trying to keep his stable of bargirls in line.  Boring!”

“Yeah.”

“But, the real question is—why are you all of a sudden doing this ‘intellectual act’?  Reading and shit.  What’s up?  You’ve been acting like your dog died.  Wife dump you?”

“Naw, nothing like that.  You know, I just need to slow down a little bit…and…well, save a little money.  Christmas is coming up and…you know…stuff like that.”

“Bullshit!  Look buddy,” Roomie said, pulling out the chair from under our solitary table and flopping down.  “For the last couple of weeks you’ve been avoiding all of us—eating like a porker at that god-awful chow hall, and turning into a fucking monk.  And…what the hell are you doing sneaking into the gooks’ mop closet at all hours?  I thought I saw you washing clothes in there in the middle of the night!  What the fuck is going on?”

I wasn’t prepared to spill my guts right then and there, so I continued to dance around the issue.

“Oh, that!  Well, you know how the laundry is, so I just thought I’d do my own clothes.  Hell, when I was in Alaska I used to have my own little laundry service.  Made a pretty good chunk of change too!”

“Yeah, well this isn’t fucking Alaska.  And, you ain’t doing anyone’s laundry but your own.  So what the fuck’s going on?”

I put my book down on the bed and stared at the floor.

“And further,” Roomie continued. “No one else may have noticed, but I got an eye for hair—and yours is getting a tad shaggy, buddy!  What?  You can’t afford a dollar to go get your head massacred by Joe Chink and his slope-headed pals at the base barbershop?”

“Well…I didn’t think…”

“Look amigo.  Look at me!  This is fucking Roomie talking!  If you’ve got money problems, girl problems, or…shit…even dick problems, I’m here to listen.  That’s what friends are for.  Get it?”

“Look Roomie, I…I…don’t think you can help my situation, OK?”

“Well fuck that!  No—I can’t, if I don’t know what the hell’s bothering you, now can I?  So ‘fess up bitch!  What’s grinding your ass?”

It seemed that Roomie was not going to leave me alone until I spilled the beans.  “Well…OK.  But this has to stay between just you and me, OK?

“Sure, whatever.  What’s eating you?”

“I guess it started when I got overpaid a few weeks ago.”

“You…got…overpaid?  Shit, why would that be a problem?”

“Well…”

“Oh fuck!  Don’t tell me you went down to Naminoue and blew the whole fucking wad on some gook cunt?  Is that what happened?  Now you have to pay the fucking money back, and you’re broke?  Is that it?”

“No, that’s not really it.”  And with that, I began to tell Roomie the entire story of my overpayment, the decision to send the money to Sharon, and my fear that she’d left me high and dry—and thirty minutes later I was done.

“Well fuck, buddy!  That was a dumb fuck thing to do, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, you got that right.”

“But, lucky for you, I got your back—at least for one of your problems.  Tomorrow morning I want you to take your shower around nine o’clock.  I’ll be here in your room at nine-thirty sharp, and we’ll take care of that mop on your head.  I need to stay sharp anyway—and boy, do I have some ideas on what to do with your hair!”

“Roomie, I don’t need you to give me free haircuts.  I can make do.”

“So what?  You want to go all shaggy and shit?  Na-huh, boyfriend!  Not on my watch you’re not.  I’m going to make you the most beautiful boy in this barracks by eleven tomorrow morning!  You watch!”

“No, Roomie!”

“You ain’t in no position to refuse, OK?  And don’t go all macho on me—that’s just so…gauche!  So, be ready to get all prettied up tomorrow morning.  I can’t wait to get my hands on that black-haired mop of yours!  Yum!!  Oh!  And be sure to shampoo all that greasy shit out of your hair, and please leave it wet.  If you need some good stripping shampoo stop by my room on your way to the shower and I’ll let you use some of mine.”

“Uh, no thanks.”  I wasn’t sure what “stripping shampoo” was, but I was sure I didn’t want to use it.

“Oh, and wear something that you won’t mind getting some hair on and getting a little wet.  I don’t have a hair cape so we’ll just have to improvise!”

So with that, Roomie leaped off the chair, pulled me up by the shoulders and planted a big sloppy kiss on my cheek.  Before I had a chance to complain he bounced out of my room and was merrily skipping down the hallway, singing at the top of his voice a verse from one of the songs from the movie musical, ‘West Side Story’:

“I feel pretty, I feel pretty, I feel pretty and witty and GAYYYYY!”

***

By the following morning, word had spread throughout the large barracks that Roomie was going to “style” some Air Force guy’s hair.  I was almost sure that Roomie himself had started the rumor just to make sure he had an audience and to maybe as a way to start a customer base.  This was 1965, and aside from a select group of people in Southern California, male “hair styling” was still in its infancy and almost unheard of.

As I was finishing my shower, I overheard a couple of Army guys making remarks regarding that “fag” from SoCal doing some other “fag’s” hair on the lower floor.  They wondered aloud what the world was coming to when someone else commented that they’d spied Roomie early this morning buying hair spray at the Base Exchange.

I wondered if maybe agreeing to Roomie’s suggestion that he cut my hair might end up being a serious life altering experience for both of us.  However, I decided to soldier on.

I was relieved to find that Roomie had not arrived at my room yet, and even more relieved when I saw that Nat was gone.  I assumed he’d decided to get some late breakfast and I hoped he’d be gone for a while.  I quickly dressed in a pair of swim shorts and a T shirt, hoping that he wouldn’t ask me to change.

Roomie showed up a few minutes later, sounding out the “shave and a haircut—two-bits” rhythm rap on my door.  To my ghastly surprise, he was standing there wearing an outfit that I had never seen him, or for that matter any other male, wear before.  Around his head, a tuft of blond hair popping up over the top, was a flowery silk scarf—tied off high on his forehead in an oversized bowknot.  A tie-dyed T shirt, chopped off four or five inches above his navel rode high over the most garish looking skin-tight aqua-colored capri pants.  On his feet, he wore a pair of pink flip-flops with a couple of large pastel-colored flowers attached to the toe straps.

“Hi-ho!  Your nine-thirty appointment has arrived, bitch!  Get ready to be beautified!”  And he, for lack of a better word, “sashayed’ in.

He was carrying a large cloth bag that he dumped on my still unmade bed.  It contained a can of ‘Aqua Net’ hair spray, various combs and brushes, and a couple of wired appliances—one resembling an air gun.

“OK!” he said joyfully, “let’s get this show on the road.”

He pulled the chair from under the table and after looking around, made a pile of several of my books and put them on the seat.

“There, now I can see what I need to do.  Come on, upsy-daisy.”  He said, motioning for me to sit on the books.

This turned out to be a haircut like I’d never had before.  Having gotten used to ones that lasted four or five minutes tops, this one took most of an hour.  He scissored, brushed, combed, buzzed, and scissored again.  Then he spritzed my hair with some warm water and did it all over again.  I felt as though I was being clipped bald.

Finally, he dug out the apparatus that looked like some plastic gun, plugged it in to a wall outlet, and began to blow my head with hot air.  After a while, he switched to another gadget, which he also plugged into the wall, which resembled a short-round sabre.

“OK, now we’re going to shape your hair with this hot iron, so don’t fidget or I’ll burn your scalp!”

“You’re going to do what?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!  You’re a bigger sissy than I am.  Stop it!”

And he began taking sections of what hair I had left, putting it in the iron and pulling it through.  Lastly, and to my relief, he told me to close my eyes and began to spray my head with the can of Aqua Net.

“There!  Now don’t you look so pretty!”  He pulled a round mirror out of the cloth bag and held it in front of my face.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

It seemed that every hair follicle on my head had found its rightful place, and styled straight back, Roomie had blow-dried a small pompadour across my upper forehead.  Although I’d felt as though he’d clipped my hair right down to my scalp, the image that was reflected from the hand mirror showed my head with more hair than I’d ever seen.  It was immaculate.

“Holy shit, Roomie!”

“Nice, huh?”

“Well, yes—it’s unbelievable.”

To my complete surprise, and embarrassment at the same time, the audience—that had grown from three or four guys to about a dozen—broke into wild applause and loud cheering.  To my horror, Roomie turned to the crowd, now spilling out into the hallway, and curtsied!  And I mean a full-blown lady-to-queen-type curtsy.

“I’ll be taking appointments right after I get back to my room, you hairy savages.”  He lisped in full gay mode.  “But I can’t promise to make you all look as beautiful as Frankie here—sometimes I need more than hair to work with.  And looking at some of you—well, it would be a challenge.”

Everyone laughed and the mood was sheer Hollywood.  Roomie was absolutely beaming.  I finally worked up the courage to break into his magic moment.

“Roomie!  Hey, thank you so much–but, I do have a question.”

“Oh Frankie!  You’ll never be able to pay me!  You owe me too much.”

“No, that’s not what I was going to ask.”  Hoping he was kidding.  “How am I supposed to fix my hair this way every day?  I don’t have brushes, hair spray, or those tools.”

“Ce n’est pas un problème, mon ami…”  He said in perfect French while waving his arms dramatically.  “I will come to your room to repair the damage before you go to work.”  This elicited a chorus of hoops and jeers from the group.  “As time goes on you’ll learn how to style it on your own.”

“But I don’t have either of those things!”  I said, pointing to the hair dryer and curling iron.

“You can borrow my hair dryer, but you won’t need the curling iron.”

And with that, he turned and began to pack his stuff back into the cloth bag.

“Oh,” he said, suddenly remembering, “I’ll leave this can of Aqua Net with you for touch ups.”

The crowd around my door poured out into the hallway as Roomie exited my room.

“Come on boys!  It’s going to be first-come, first-served at ‘Chez Roomie’.”  And he disappeared—the crowd of guys eagerly following close behind.

I was left alone in my room with only my roommate Nat, who was sitting on the edge of his bed.

“So what’cha gonna do with your hat?  Once you jam that baby on your hairstyle is gonna be all dicked up.”

“I looked at myself in my small shaving mirror and wondered the same thing.  “Hmm, I don’t know.  I guess I’ll just have to be careful.”

“I guess.  Now you see why I keep my hair buzzed.”

Friends With Hearts

I spent Christmas alone in my room.  Most of the base activities had been sharply curtailed due to the holidays, and I had been granted Christmas and the following three days off.  The guys and most of the barrack’s population had all left to celebrate at the Airmen’s Club, or downtown Naminoue, leaving the barracks building mostly deserted.  Nat and Roomie had asked me repeatedly to join the group but I resisted—saying that I thought I was coming down with a touch of the flu.

Although I had been maintaining some hope that I would eventually receive a letter from Sharon, that hope faded with every day that went by not hearing from her.  My plans for the first twenty-five-dollar money order that I should’ve received by now had been to buy the boys a couple of toys that I’d seen at the Base Exchange a few weeks earlier.  However, without any money I couldn’t even send them a Christmas card.

I counted the stamps that I had left since arriving in Okinawa and found that I had written Sharon about eleven letters and my parents, six.  In return, I had received over a dozen letters from my mother and none from Sharon.  As the Christmas holiday wound down, I finally came to the depressing conclusion that Sharon was not going to write.  She had taken all the money that I had sent and apparently didn’t have any plans on sending anything back.

As darkness descended on me that first Christmas at the end of 1965, I lay on my bed wondering what would become of me.  Even though Roomie had graciously volunteered to cut (style) my hair whenever I needed it, I worried that eventually I would run out of stuff to maintain my personal hygiene.  I had less than a half a bar of soap left, three blades, and my can of deodorant was now almost empty.  On the bright side, I had an almost brand new can of Aqua Net hairspray, but I doubted that it would do me much good anywhere other than on my head.

I fell into a shallow and troubled sleep—a feeling of bitter sorrow just a breath away.

***

I went back to work a few days later and I found that my duties helped keep my mind off my immediate troubles.  After lunch, Sergeant Resor approached me and asked how I was doing.  I drummed up my best smile and told him I was as right as rain.

“Have you heard from your wife yet?”  He asked, concern showing in his eyes.

“Oh, yeah—I sure did.”  I lied.

“So, everything’s OK then?  Your plan, I mean.”

“Well, she hasn’t sent any money yet, but that’s fine.  I still have some travel money put away, so I’ll be fine.”  More lies.

“Ah, good.  Well I see you got your hair all styled up.  Sure makes you look different.  You didn’t get that on the base did you?”

“No, the base barbershop only does haircuts.  You know…military cuts.  No, I got this from one of the Army guys in our barracks.  He used to style hair in LA before he was drafted.”

“Hmm, looks good.  Completely different from the way you used to wear it.  I like it though.  You gonna keep it that way?”

“Thanks!  Yeah, I guess I will.  As long as the Base Exchange doesn’t run out of hairspray.”

“Yeah, well don’t let that get around.  You’ll be tagged as some kind of queer.”

“For sure.  No, I’ll be OK.”

Our little chitchat went on for a while, and I began to feel as if he was somehow interrogating me.  He asked what my plans were for New Years and I told him that I didn’t have any plans but would probably go downtown with some guys for dinner and a few drinks.  He seemed satisfied, and didn’t realize what I’d just told him was what I really wanted to do, and not what I would probably end up doing.

I worked the early shift on New Year’s Eve, 1965, and was back in the barracks by three in the afternoon.  Evening chow didn’t start until four so I decided to take a little nap and maybe head on up around five.  Just as I was settling in and getting the first real snooze that I’d had in days, the door to my room flew open and all of my friends poured in.

“Look at this fucking slug, would you?”  Smokey screamed, his eyes bulging even bigger than ever behind his horn-rimmed Coke bottle lenses.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Scared half out of my wits, I rolled out of my bunk—pulling the sheet up over my shoulders and almost falling on to the floor.  “I’m trying to sleep before I go to chow!”

“Sleep?”  Peewee screeched.  No sleeping on New Year’s Eve, you slack fucker.  Get up!”

Ramie, elegantly dressed in his blacks, coolly strolled in.  “Get the fuck up, Pancho!  We’re headed downtown to eat, drink, woo some bitches…and, of course, bring in the New Year!!”

“Fine,” I said, now a little irritated.  “Go celebrate and leave me the fuck alone.  OK?”

“Listen to this bitch!  Un-fucking-grateful!”  Roomie chimed in, faking mock anger.  “Come on, get up!!  I need to fluff that mop up so you’ll look like a real Romeo!  I have a reputation to maintain!”  He was carrying his brush and hair dryer.

“NO!  Leave me alone!”

“We’re not asking, shit-head!”  Peewee said impatiently.  “We’re telling you to get your ass up, let Roomie fix your hair, so we can head on downtown.  Come on, man—we need to catch a sukoshi cab ASAP!”

I wasn’t sure what I was hearing, and I sure didn’t want to say what came rolling out of my mouth!  But, out it came anyway.  “Look!  You fucking guys know what my situation is.  I don’t have any fucking money to go anywhere!  That damn ship sailed a few weeks ago.  Now get the fuck out of my room and leave me alone!”

Smokey elbowed his way past Nat, Peewee, Ramie and Roomie.  His eyes looked like they were going to bulge right out of their sockets and the veins on his skinny neck were pulsing.

“Who the fuck said anything about money, you stupid ass?”  He looked around the group.  “Huh?  Who the fuck said he needed money?  Anyone?!”  Everyone looked at each other but no one said anything.

A few seconds went by…and I finally found my tongue.  “OK, look guys.  Thanks for thinking about me, but I can’t do this.  You expect me to join you on New Year’s Eve as you go downtown to eat and drink?  And me with no money to my name?  Give me a fucking break!  I can’t do that!  I can’t accept charity.”

Roomie slid by the group and sat next to me on my bunk.  “Look Frankie.  We don’t care about you not having money, and this is not charity.  We’re your friends, you understand?  Even if you are a flyboy in the fucking Air Force!”

Smokey and Ramie made some nasty sounds, and Smokey said, “Fuck you Roomie, you ground-pounder.”

Roomie put his arm around my shoulders.  “Listen dummy.  We love you, and we’d be some kind of nasty dirtbag friends if we didn’t help each other out.  So, tonight is going to be on us.  We’ve already talked about it and we’ve all agreed, so don’t give us any more shit.  You’re our bud, and buds look after one another.  Now come on, get your skinny ass up so I can work on your head.  Time is wasting away!”

I didn’t know what to say, but I started to realize that they were not going to take no for an answer.

“OK, look,” I said, finally resigning myself to the inevitable.  “I don’t really feel right about this, plus, I don’t have anything ready to wear.”

“Oh fuck!  Put on some damn jeans and a white shirt, vato.”  Ramie said.  “And if you need a nice jacket I got a black one you can borrow.”

And that was that.

Thirty minutes later we all piled into a base taxi and were on our way towards the main gate to wave down a couple of sukoshi cabs.  There was a group of about forty or fifty soldiers, sailors, and airmen crowded around the gate, and a line of cabs stuffing as many as each could fit for the ride to Naminoue.

It was a night that I will never forget.  We ate, we drank, we sang, we caroused, and I had the best time of my young life.  Sometime later, in a crowded and smoky bar, surrounded by a group of equally inebriated naisan bar girls, we gleefully welcomed in 1966.  Soon after, and over Ramie’s loud objections, we shed ourselves of the girls and staggered into our favorite late night restaurant, “Jack’s Steakhouse”.  Although crowded even at that time of the morning, we found a table and each ordered Jack’s special Kobe Beef sandwiches and Japanese beer.

After wolfing down the incredibly tender beef sandwiches and washing them down with mugs of ice-cold Asahi, we headed back to the cab stand for our return ride to the base.  As Nat and I drunkenly helped each other up the long flight of concrete stairs to our quad, behind us the golden-soft Okinawan sun quietly broke the New Year’s dawn and shone brightly over the shimmering green horizon of the East China Sea.

To be continued…