Afterburners by William Robert Stanek Read Free Book Online

how my morning’s gone so far, you wouldn’t be so upset,” I began, as I told him about my escapades with my car. He knew that old green BMW well. He’d been there when I bought it. His wife and my wife were also friends. I told him not to worry so much. “Those two will probably be visiting all the time. Katie can drive Debby to the commissary or wherever she needs to go.
        “Providing, of course, the car gets fixed,” I added with a chuckle.
        The hour went fast as we talked and made our way through that mountain of green canvas bags. Before I knew it, it was time to head over for processing.
        Mobility processing went smoother this time. I went through personnel, security police, legal, chaplain, finance, and immunizations in record time. Finance had been authorized to pay advance money, so when I reached the end of the line I was stuffing a wad of twenties into my wallet just about the time a female Med Tech told me, “Unzip and drop ‘em!”
        By this time, I was in a room with three other guys and two other gals, part of crew number one. I dropped ‘em and so did everyone else. One by one we got our gamma globulin shots. After that, rubbing our backsides, crew number one double-timed it back to the squadron. Go time was now an hour and thirty-five minutes away. Crew briefings were scheduled to begin in five minutes.
        We were hurried to the ready room, now the war room. Since the thirteen of us were the last to enter, we sat down in the back. With Go time getting ever nearer, we were growing more nervous by the second. We heard the door open and close and then a familiar face passed by the center aisle to the podium.
        “Congratulations, combat crew. Those of you seated in this room today were selected over all other members of the unit to deploy to the Persian Gulf!” screamed Jimmie. “The first thing we’re going to do is to take roll and make sure everyone is here. I’ll start off with the mission crews, one through three, reading the names down the list by crew. Afterward, Aircraft Commanders, if your crew is present or accounted for, just confirm that for me. Crew one.”
        The chief went through the list of names, thirty-nine primary aircrew members, of which I was one. The ACs responded, each in turn. Then the chief made his way through the long list of personnel on ground status: primary mission planners, intelligence analysts, intelligence briefers, duty drivers, medical technicians, other ground support specialists, and lastly, auxiliary aircrew members. From there the briefing progressed slowly through five additional briefers. Before we knew it, the chief was giving us a sending-off pep talk. “Remember, your destination remains classified. As you leave this room you are not at liberty to discuss it. You will all be met on the ground at your destination, where your first stop will be customs. The flight over, as you were told, is eight hours. Crew one, you’d better get some shut-eye on that transport ride over. You’re going to have a long day. That’s the end of the briefing, combat crew, support crews. Good luck to all of you!”
        We came out of the ready room to find an ops building steadily filling with wives, husbands and children. The chief and the folks from IM had been busy calling families to give us an official sending off.
        I knew Katie had to be somewhere in the crowd; and after getting Captain Willie’s permission, I chased her down. I found her standing alone, holding lunch in a little brown bag. She was wearing a blue denim dress. Her long brown hair stretched neatly in long curly spans over her shoulders. If I had had a camera, I would have snapped a picture right then and cherished it forever. I hadn’t expected to see her for a long, long time, and there she was.
        We looked for a more secluded corner to sit down and talk quietly. Other families were doing much the same. Some seemed cheerful,