Military Wife....part 2

Yokota Air Base, Japan

….Our plane did make it off of Midway! We did get to Yokota Air Base. Uneventful, I thought. As we touched down, there were fire trucks lining the runway and foam blanketed it. All of this was new to me. No alarm bells went off. I just thought this was what was done. All of us were ushered off the plane quickly but without great urgency. When we were safely inside, we were told there had been, in fact, a ‘problem on the plane’; smoke was evident.

No details were ever given to us. We were safe; that was what we needed to know.

Our reunion with Baby daddy and my husband was joy-filled and gave me a sense of reassurance, a feeling that everything was going be fine now.

Chatting and hugging, the two pilgrims and the Daddy left the terminal together with great anticipation for the days ahead. We were billeted again in military lodging until a place was available for us to live.

As it turned out it would be at least two months before we could move on base, so our first housing in Japan was ‘on the economy’ in a small but adequate paddy house, as they were known, even though we were not situated in a rice paddy. It was located just outside the gates of Yokota Air Base. It was a place to hang our hat and begin each day together and that was enough.

PADDIE HOUSE PANTY RAIDS

We had a washing machine, no dryer, but there was lots of sun that summer. I was no stranger to clothes lines having loved the way clothes smelled when dried in the sun and the breeze, a clothesline was a welcome sight. Fortunately there were three lines inside of the small fenced-in area behind our house. I would wash clothes and hang them on the line to dry. Later in the day of course I would go out to collect them.

One day when I went out about half of my panties were gone!! This happened two more times. My husband decided he would see if he could find out what was going on in the great panty caper.

That very weekend he made time to hang out in the back bedroom where he had a clear view of the line. Sure enough, not long after the clothing was hung on the line, the culprit appeared. A youngish, our age, mid-twenties man climbed the fence and snatched the panties!! He scrambled back over the fence just as my husband reached the fence, shouting at him to ‘stay out of our yard!!! Leave the underwear on the line!!!’ Or, words that meant that. His words may have been a bit more descriptive and colorful. In any case, no more unexpected disappearance of the underwear occurred while we lived in our paddy home.

BASE HOUSING

Our move to base housing was so easy. We packed and moved. Just that simple. Our new home was a very spacious 2 bedroom apartment adjoining three others. The best that my memory serves me the building unit was known as a 'quadraplex' but I was unable to find that term anywhere as I researched this epistle; so, maybe I dreamed it up to describe four apartment units that were linked with walls.

Our place was situated on the end nearest the commissary. A fence ran along the perimeter separating the commissary parking lot from our yard. Very large yard, spacious house, our little family all in one place, we were beginning a new time of discovery.

Somewhat anxious about this total upheaval in our lives, uncertainty had loomed before me. I had not learned 'not try to second guess the future' at the young age of twenty four. That being said, this was a far easier move than I had anticipated; joy filled our space and our lives.

This little country girl who had only been away from home to attend college was suddenly about seven thousand miles from her parents and other loved ones. My husband was stationed in Albany, Georgia, prior to our move to Japan. He was an Air Force Sergeant at Turner Air Force Base. One noontime when he rambunctiously arrived on his beloved Honda 750 for lunch, he bounces in to our tiny 1 and ½ bedroom mobile home.

He was especially animated so certainly something was up. Busily preparing his lunch, I barely noticed as he sidled up to me and asked: “How do you feel about living in Japan for four years?” Never one to beat around the bush, he had gotten right to the point.

He had my attention now! No words came. Anyone who knows me has ever known me to be unable to speak. At this moment, I was so shocked, surprised, taken aback that no words would come. I had to take time to process what he was saying. Gradually, I mumbled something. The rest as we often say is history.

New wheels…

Settled in to our new place, it was time to investigate my new home-away-from homeland. I had time to explore. Walking was an option to some places not so to others. I needed a car.

When families rotated back to the States, there would often be vehicles that were unwanted. We were in the market. Locating vehicles was not a long process at all. Within a few days, we had two cars parked in our drive way. One a dark blue, four door Toyota, the second a white two door Honda, standard shift, which I had to learn to drive. Total dollars spent 75. We were pleasantly surprised to find those vehicles served us well for the entire four years we were there and were still working well as we prepared to rotate off the island.

Learning to drive my little Honda was a new experience but I am happy to report that my husband was a patient teacher. No matter how many times we jerked along the parking lot and choked out the gas, he never once raised his voice. He was kind of like that most of the time anyway. After a while, I ‘got it’ and was able to drive on base. It was some time after that before I ventured onto the real highways in Japan. That was an eye-opening experience for sure.

Driving on the roadways of Japan was an eye-opening experience for me. Since I was knew the whole driving a standard shift thing, driving was an adventure for a while anyway. I then had to venture onto the highway and not crash.

The two lane roads were the roads we traveled to Yokota Air Base from Tachikawa Air Base a short distance that should have taken about 15 minutes. It usually took a minimum of an hour. By today's standards that is not a lot of time really as many drive for much longer periods than that each day, one way. However, that was then. And, then, I was used to traveling long distances in an hour so it was different.

The two lanes roads, interestingly enough, became four lane roads when the need arose. Now, I am not belittling my Japanese second-homeland, just stating what the situation was. One needed to respect the driver who wanted to share the one lane with you that you were going in and they wanted to go the same way. You did. You watched for whatever would transpire and dealt with it as it arose.

One phenomenon that I encountered was this. A person would drive up to the edge of the road obviously wanting to enter the highway. If you did not stop for them to weave themselves into the stream of cars, the driver of the other vehicle would simply put up his hand at you. It was not a rude gesture at all. It was a message, "See me.I am pulling out now!' And, that is exactly what the driver would do. Quickly and with assurance the vehicle squeezed right in front of whatever vehicle was already on the road.

Now I had to try it. I had to see if they would stop for me! An occasion arose where I needed to get into traffic and it seemed impossible. So,out of the window popped my arm. Much to my amazement, the traffic stopped and I was allowed to enter the flow of traffic!!! I was hooked that day at that moment. I felt like I belonged there!!