Strong Winds

It had been a horrible day. It was Saturday night. It had been raining all day, and the raindrops still fell from the heavens upon the earth almost seeming to try and drown it. Water beat upon a pane of glass that protected me from the thrashing, which the sky was making happen below. A small overhang protected my back patio porch of a small one bedroom apartment. Yet the wind pushed the water under it and allowed it to noisily knock upon the sliding glass door. The power had long been since out from the high winds and the noise was almost deafening from the storm itself.
My forehead pressed lightly against the glass as I felt the cool kiss press upon my brow. Heated breath fogged the window with every breath, and then slowly vanished with each intake of air through my mouth. How miserable of a day. No power, no music, and no nothing could entertain me while the storm waged outside. Could have been worse, I suppose. I surely had been through much more then this storm. Flopping into my soft couch, I couldn’t help but chuckle remembering some of the worst storms I had been through.
Closing my eyes, I would search my mind for the worst one I went through. It was easy to remember. Most recall the day for other reasons. I remember it for much more than what others had. September 7th 2001. A phone call came in to my office at the Air Operations of Com Fleet Activities Okinawa Japan (CFAO). I had not been the one to pick up the phone but I remember well on the news of my first class petty officer told us. “We have to bug out. A Category 4 Typhoon has turned towards the Island.” He announced to the four of us that had been manning the office that day. Typically, we went with the aircraft when we had to leave the Island.
I was a third class petty officer and the second highest ranking in our office. I was mostly in charge for scheduling flights, parking the aircraft in the hangers, or prepping the plane before the pilots got there. I was also the aircrew man, who would take care of passengers, cargo and fueling the plane while away from our home base on Kadena Air Force base of the Island of Okinawa. So any time the plane bugged out, I was typically the one to go with it.
“Petty officer Pinto… you’re staying here to take care of the office, and I’m going this trip and taking our FNG with us to do training. “ My first class told me. What could I really say to that? I was kind of relieved that I didn’t have to prep or pack anything, though when we had to leave the island we always went to Guam and its warm white sandy beaches and stayed in the best 5 star hotel called “the Outrigger”. I would simply offer a half-hearted nod and went on to calling those I needed too, and cancelled flights we had on the books for the upcoming weekend. A simple task, though when dealing with officers, you sometimes catch flack for canceling their taxi service from one place to another. I learned to live with it being that in my line of work, I could really talk to officers like an equal rather than a subordinate, seeing as I kept the plane in the air while they flew.
There were lots to get done and little time to do it in. They predicted the storm would be there and right over us by the 10th. The planes we were in charge of, both got off the ground later that day, and flew off to a paradise while I stayed behind to man the office by myself. Something I was used to, though not looking forward to. The only other person that stayed behind was a second class petty officer, who I knew very well. He had been the first one I met when I came to the Island, and had helped me get settled in. As the day came to a close, we both locked up the office and closed the hanger doors of our large building and even took some straps and tied the doors closed so that if the winds got too bad, the doors wouldn’t open up by themselves.
It was nice having some days off. The 8th and 9th went quickly as I visited some air force friends off base, went shopping and stocked up on food, water, and yes, even beer. What can I say? When a Typhoon comes through, the entire base shuts down and it’s party time at the barracks. Though only NCO’s (Non-commissioned officers) could have alcohol in their rooms. Luckily, I had been frocked the year before. A little eagle on my shoulder allowed me to buy a car, have my own room, and the wings on my chest simply added a little more to my pay check each month. Although, I had to work very hard to achieve those benefits.
The morning of the 10th, I was woken up by my phone ringing. Barely able to see I looked to my clock and read its glowing red numbers. 3:53 am. Who the hell is calling me at this hour? Picking it up, I could only muster a groan that was close to a ‘Hello’. The voice on the other end was clear, stern, and even in my sleepy state I woke quickly realizing it was my Commanding officer. “Petty Officer Pinto. I need you in flight suit and at the hanger as soon as possible.” I managed to catch my voice and offered out a ‘Yes Sir’ then hung up and quickly jumped from my bed. Donning my flight suit on quickly, I threw on my boots and grabbed my flight bag that was always set and ready to go. Locking my door I walked down the completely silent hall to the mod I lived in. I was the highest ranking in the mod so I got the best room, one with its own bathroom. I had hardly noted the conditions outside but was quickly aware of the conditions as soon as I stepped out onto the balcony to the second floor of our barracks. Wind was blowing so hard that the trees were hardly standing straight.
I had two cars by now and I debated on which to drive. Though with the conditions the way they were, my decision was made for me. Instead of pulling out my prized Nissan skyline GTR from its protective garage, I slipped into the driver seat of my 1995 Nissan Cefiro. It was a heavy four door sedan that was in my own thoughts the best car I had ever bought. It was fast, nimble, but was more of a family car then a race car. Pulling away, I quickly made it to the office on the other side of the base where I found a few men already assembled. I didn’t recognize any of them save for my CO.
“Petty officer Pinto,” the CO yelled over the wind. “I need you to open the hanger and move these Army helo’s into the hanger ASAP”. Quickly looking to the men again that had been standing there, I saw the insignia’s on their black flight suits. They were Special Forces. I quickly made my way inside, pulled the locking straps and then opened the doors carefully to reveal three black helicopters. I was amazed they had been flying in this wind but I didn’t think much of them as my eyes had been glued upon the amount of weaponry that was fastened to the sides of the choppers. The Mini-guns were what really caught my eye.
Bringing the choppers in one by one was easy with the others help. The wind was getting stronger by the moment, and the last chopper was slightly more complicated to pull in the rest as the rotors were not folding back like the others. While towing the chopper in I could feel the wind pushing against the side of the aircraft and even thought one time that it was going to roll over. Though with some fancy maneuvering by myself, I managed to park all three in safely and once more closed the doors before the wind could really do any damage. By now it was around 9 am in the morning when I put the last strap onto the hanger door and locked up once again. Thankfully, my CO and the Commanding officer of the Army group decided to treat all of us to breakfast.
Crawling back to my room at around noon, I remember watching the rain clouds off in the distance start to draw near. The wind had died down just slightly, but the weather man was saying that it was about to get really bad. I cleaned myself up and changed into some civilian clothing before venturing out to the store once more to grab a few movies, and a new controller to my Xbox game system. When I got home I parked my Cefiro right up against the garage where I parked my GTR and made sure that when the Typhoon came over, my vehicles would be ok and safe.
The wind started to pick up around 7 or 8 pm that night. Rain was coming down in sheets and often so hard we couldn’t see the opposing barracks that was on the other side of the parking lot. The base commander had locked down the base then also, so no one could leave the base, and if you were off base? You were stuck there. Although those of us that were now in the barracks hardly cared about any of that. It was party time!
The beer flowed, games played, and music blared. People yelled from all levels of the barracks as the wind grew stronger and the rain became even louder. I was in the common area with the rest of the guys in my mod, some cooking, and the rest of us, drinking and playing Halo. There were 8 of us, 5 males and 3 females. All of us engrossed in either kicking each other’s butts in the game, or drinking the other under the table. I didn’t drink that much, though enough to be feeling good.
It was nearing midnight now. Power had been out for about 45 minutes over the entire island. The eye of the storm suddenly was right over us. A few of us, myself included, felt it was a good idea to run out and play some horse shoes that had been set up on a grassy area between both barracks. We had little concept of safety for ourselves at that moment. The alcohol had completely detached us from our right minds as even a few from the adjacent barracks came to play. It wasn’t that we were being rowdy, just were bored of being cooped up in the barracks. An air force security Hummer drove up soon after and the guy inside asked us what the hell we were doing. “Playing Horse shoes! What the hell it looks like?” I yelled back. He instructed us to go back inside, which we followed only until he had drove away.
The opposing wall of the eye was quick to come upon us. The winds changed too and the rain came from a completely different direction. Rooms were starting to flood, including mine. I did the best I could to shelter and shield my electronics from the water by putting them in my bathroom and inside my movable closet. The carpets were soaked as the water leaked from the room above my own, and I’m sure the room below me was getting what leaked from my own. I had done my best to water proof my own window so no water would get through. Suppose the guy up stairs didn’t do as good of a job.

Setting out upon a bench on the balcony that had been the way ward side of the rain before. Now was a haven to sit and watch the storm pass by without getting drenched. It was getting close to 2 am in the morning. The storm was not letting up easily as we still had a few days of heavy rain and wind to contend with. The tail of a typhoon was much worse than the brunt of it. Sitting with a few friends that I had come to know during my time having been there. We chatted about this and that, but mostly the clean up that was going to have to be done after the storm had fully passed. It was a strong storm. Before hitting the Island it was a Category 4 Typhoon. This meant the winds were pushing 131-155 mph. The damage would be extensive. Luckily, the Japanese knew how to build houses. I’m sure if the concrete structure we were living in had a wood frame, it would have collapsed long before I had even gotten to the island.
Joking around, we barely noticed the four armed hummers pull into our barracks parking lot. That is until a spot light flashed to life and aimed right at us. Why us? Because we were the only ones up, and outside at the time. I came to the rail only to hear the voice someone yelling for us to come down. I followed everyone down and stood under the outcropping of the stairs as the security guys came over. “We need everyone who is security qualified to put on your BDU’s (Battle Dress Uniform) and come with us.” For a moment, we all were a little stunned to the order. I know I was, and I could see it on the faces of others. Other security went to through the mods and told others the same thing. “What’s going on?” my buddy Bundi had asked. “There has been a bombing in New York. The twin towers have fallen and there was another bombing at the pentagon. “This quickly set us back. We were still half drunk, but the news sobered us up very quickly. The storm was still blowing through and when the security finally got everyone that was security qualified, there was only 6 of us that were qualified to handle weapons and security trained. Once more… I was included.
I was still very much drunk, yet I had an M-16 placed in my hands, a 9mm placed on my hip and a shotgun on my back. The others they pulled were maybe in a little worse shape than I was. Least I could stand up straight and didn’t have a splitting headache, yet. We drove off base by the security and drove 25 minutes away to the naval base ‘White Beach’. It was the only naval pier on the island. The military had been placed on the highest alert for a terrorist threat. The wind was beating hard against the Hummer as we pulled onto the pier my only thought was getting blown off into the water with my heavy gear on and sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Sand bags were off loaded from the back of another Hummer and we quickly built a barricade to shield us from the rain and wind, though they did little but maybe keep us on the pier.
Sitting there, drenched, I finally checked my weapons and found I had 3 rounds in the mag. for the m-16, a single full clip for the 9mm, and a single shotgun shell for the shotgun. Good Lord what was I to do if something, or someone tried to come blow up the pier? We sat in that hard rain and wind all night and nearly all day the next day before we were relieved to get some food and a shower. The wind had let up and the rain was slowly started to weaken. It still came down hard, but compared to what it had been the night before, this was a sprinkle. September 11th 2001. Typhoon Nari had pushed over the island, and caused a lot of damage before moving off into the China Sea. Yet the only thing on my mind was what had happened state side? Power had been knocked out over the entire island and any information we got came from the hear-say.
Lightning struck outside the apartment waking me from my memory and I rolled off the couch to look outside again. Hands lightly laced behind my back as I watched the rain try and conquer the pane which shielded me still. Nothing could compare to that night of standing on the end of the pier, staring out at blackness that extended over thousands of miles of ocean. Never knowing what could have been looking back at me, ready to harm those I knew and called friend. September 11th, is remembered differently by different people. For me, it was the storm of my life time.