JASDF F104J Starfighter
At MMD7 (later MOMAG Det 10) at Naha on Okinawa we took turns in pairs to stand weekend duty. The entire facility was surrounded by a razor-wire topped, chain-link fence. It sat on the far side of Senagashima island, which itself was surrounded by yet another razor-wire topped fence. The island stood off from Okinawa proper by a pair of mile-long causeways at right angles. We used only one of those, the other being closed off by gates at both ends. So, all in all, it would have been pretty secure, even were the building left empty.
That building, however, was full of explosives, and so must be occupied 24/7. Just only that, nothing much else, except just to answer the phone. And so, watch standers mostly just killed time by reading, studying, or whatever. Rather than stay up all night, a side room had a pair of bunks for the watch standers to sleep in. This on the assumption that any efforts to break in through metal doors (no windows at all) would surely rouse us by all the noise.
On the Sunday of which I write, MN3 Bob Mullins was senior, and I (a lowly MNSN) was the designated gopher. So when the phone rang at 0200 hours, I slid down from off the top bunk to run answer it. A flash message had just arrived addressed to the CinC Lt. Dunn. Probably just his own copy of similar boilerplate copied to all other CinCs on the whole island. Nor would he see it until arriving on site later that Monday morning at 0800 hours.
Still, even so, it was a flash message, and so must be picked up right away. An RM3 whom I later met, infomed me as how on a ship, a lowly RNSN running a flash message to the vessle’s captain, may with impunity run down anyone who doesn’t leap to get out of the way, the XO included. And so, kind of a big deal. Never mind our own blase attitude displayed here.
Anyhow, dress I must, and immediately. Then into the truck I went, out though first the command gate, then the island gate, and on down that mile-lown causeway fronting the East China Sea on my left, and a great big lagoon on my right. From out of that lagoon on my right stood a row of pilons, these holding up approach lights for the Naha Air Station runway. These maybe 100 feet distant and extending not quite as far as Senagashima’s other causeway.
Reaching the end of the causeway I stopped and turned right. Next came an ominous sign: Yield Right of Way to Aircraft. Now Naha, as you’ll now be needing to know serves also as a civilian airport in addition to being a military air station. Stopping and looking both ways, I see nothing at all down the full length of the runway. Far, far out to sea, I do spy a pair of lights. From so far distance, I make them out to surely be landing lights on the wings of an incoming Boeing 747.
Now, a 747 is pretty damn slow. And those lights were a long way out. Plenty of time, several minutes at least, so I did figure. And so I proceeded ahead. Then, what to my total surprise, together with a spike of sheer panic, the crew-cab, 3/4-ton Chevy truck I was driving lurched heavily sidways in response to a huge blast of air accompanied by absolutely horrendous roar.
I look to my left and what do I see. A pair of JASDF F104 Starfighters just then touching down onto the runway, side-by-side, and deploying drag chutes. Always at Naha they deploy drag chutes, without which they’d run off the runway into the drink at its opposite end.
JASDF F104J Starfighter
And so, I figure that I’m now in very deep shit. There will surely be an investigation. But I can’t remain at the scene. I’ve a flash message to be picking up. And so I just proceed on my way. I get the message and return back to the shop, where I put the extremely urgent message in Lt. Dunn’s inbox, where it will sit until morning. I find my immediate supperior, MN3 Mullins, sound asleep in his bunk. Reason enough not to wake him. Best to wait until morning, I figure.
Come morning, I dress, then go out to unlock the gate. Then I must drive the same truck as the night before back along the exact same route, just not quite as far. Well short of the Comm Center is the barracks, where I am to pick up the crew. Unlike last night, I have a passenger: MNCN Jibbers, the command mascot. Being an MNCN, he Jibbers out-raked all of us, so always rode shotgun. Never, ever he to ride in the bed with the rest of us peons when it might rain.
Anyhow, I picked up the crew and brought them all back. Whereupon we lined up for muster. With no small alarm, I waited for my name to be called on account of the incident at 2AM. But muster ended without any mention. Nor yet did I get called into the office later that day. Nor the next. I never learned why. Nor did I think it prudent to ask.
On a closing note, I’ll tell as how when MCMN Jibbers got his new annual, navy base, dog tag, I added his expired tag to my own USN dog tags just for laughs. I still have it: VACCINATED AGAINST RABIES, KADENA OKINAWA, 3413