Chapter 14

11 OCT 70

HOLLOMAN AFB, NM

Michael completed in processing, reported to the orderly room and received his room assignment.  He unlocked the door and entered.  He scanned the room and thought, "This will be my new home for awhile.  Not to bad."

On the wall to his left were two clothing lockers and a set of bunk beds.  The lower bunk was taken.  He had a roommate.  He checked the nameplates on the door and they were both empty.  His roommate was probably new to Holloman, like him.

The wall directly in front of him had two windows and an Air conditioning / heating unit below the windows.

On the wall to his right was a door.  He dropped his duffle bag, walked over to the door and opened it.  It was a bathroom that had an entry into the room next door.  He would have to compete for bathroom time with his roommate plus two other people.  He shut the door.  To his right was a sink and medicine cabinet.  He would only have to compete for shaving and tooth brushing time with one other person.  Next to the sink was an easy chair, which he decided to try out.  It was comfortable.  On the wall to the left of the entry door was a desk and chair.  On the desk were some pictures.  He stood and walked over to the desk and picked up a picture.  "I don't believe this," he said, aloud.

Suddenly the door opened and there stood Eric.  "Eric, you’re here already!  You're my roommate!  You even have your duty belt on.  You're working already.  What's the deal man?  I thought that you were gonna take ten days leave like me.

Eric had a huge grin, "I've been here for three days, buddy.  I was so anxious to get on with my career that I cut my leave short.  My parents weren't very happy, but they understood. Listen, I hate to run, but I've gotta get back on patrol.  I just wanted to check and make sure that you got here okay.  What do you think about us being roomies, huh?  I worked it out with the First Sergeant!  It's gonna be great!  I've gotta go!  We'll have dinner together in the chow hall later!  See ya!"

In a flash, Eric was gone and Michael said, "The boy has absolutely too much caffeine in his diet."

Michael quickly settled into life at Holloman AFB.  He found the local terrain interesting.  The base was located in the desert but wasn't far from the mountain resort town of Cloudcroft.  In the opposite direction, adjoining Holloman AFB property was White Sands National Park.  He’d grown up on the Gulf Coast, therefore he was accustomed to seeing lots of water; ocean, rivers, and creeks.  In one of the first letters that he wrote home, he tried to describe it.  "The mountains near the base are beautiful but what they call a creek we would call a stream.  And White Sands National Park is amazing.  It's like the largest beach you've ever seen.  They just forgot to add the ocean."

He and Eric enjoyed their work as Security Policemen.  They both enrolled in college classes off base and each decided to pursue a degree in Criminal Justice.  Michael's only disappointment was that, being a TAC base, there were not many cargo flights leaving Holloman in route to Lackland AFB.  Anytime his patrol took him past the transportation department he made it a habit to stop in to check flight schedules.  It was nearly Christmas before his luck changed.  By working the entire Thanksgiving weekend, he managed to get the first four days of December off.  On December first he hopped a C-130 that would be making a return flight in a few days.  When the cargo plane lifted off the runway and sailed into the cloudless sky he breathed a sigh of relief.  He was finally on his way to see the girl who meant more to him than anything or anyone else in the world.

Janice managed to get the time off as well, so they were able to spend every waking moment together.  For Michael it was pure heaven on earth.  The way Janice listened to him, held his hand, caressed his face, kissed him, walked with him, held him and shared her deepest thoughts told him that this was the girl that he'd always dreamed of.

On the third day of his visit, they were sitting across the table from each other in a base snack bar.  They were each finishing a strawberry milkshake, competing to see who could make the loudest slurping noise.  They declared the contest a draw and through her laughter she said, "It's good to get this out of your system now because when you put on those gold bars you'll be an officer and a gentleman.  Slurping will be below your dignity."

"I'm afraid that I'm gonna be the most undignified officer and gentleman to ever put on a uniform."

Janice's roommate, Marcia Alexander, suddenly interrupted them.  "Hey you guys, I've been looking all over for you.  Janice, the First Sergeant said, that you need to call home ASAP."

"I wonder what's happened."

"I don't know, she just told me to find you and to get you to call home ASAP."

"There's a pay phone right outside, I'll just call collect from here."

Michael got up and said, "I'll come with you."

Marcia followed them outside to the phone booth.  Janice stepped inside and closed the door.  Michael could not hear the conversation but from the tears welling up in her eyes, he knew that it was bad news.  He pressed his body against the booth, his forehead and palms of his hands against the glass.  Janice wasn't talking; she was just allowing the tears to stream unrestrained down her face.  As if Michael's heart had reached out and touched hers she looked into his eyes, and placed the palm of her free hand against the glass, facing the palm of his hand.  As if they had been able to touch each other without the glass between them, she drew strength from him.  After awhile she hung the telephone up and opened the door.  Michael stepped around the booth to the door and took her into his arms, her head against his chest.  With his left hand he caressed her hair and asked, "Janice, what's happened?"

"She lifted her head from his chest, looked into his eyes and said, "My father has been diagnosed with cancer.  He's never been one to go to a doctor until he feels really bad, so the cancer is in its advanced stages.  They're going to start chemo-therapy right away."

Michael pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and dried her tears.  "I need to go to the orderly room and request emergency leave," she said.

The next morning Janice caught a commercial flight home to Seattle.  Michael insisted on seeing her off at the San Antonio airport, which caused him to miss the C-130 back to Holloman.  He was able to hop another C-130 to Travis AFB in San Francisco, California.  From there, he was able to get a flight to Kirtland AFB in Albuquerque, New Mexico.  He arrived there at 1900 hours and learned that there were no flights scheduled to Holloman for three days.  He hadn't eaten since breakfast so he went to the base chow hall and, as he'd expected, found it closed.  He had not expected to need any money on his return trip so he spent nearly everything that he had while he was with Janice.  He found a snack bar on base that was open and was able to get a hot dog and a soft drink.  With his hunger satisfied he walked to the front gate and started hitchhiking.  In less than ten minutes, a pickup truck pulled over.  He opened the passenger door and the driver asked, "How far you going?"

"Alamogordo," Michael answered.

"I can take you as far as Socorro."

"That'll help.  I appreciate it."

"My name's Steve Vance."

"Michael Webber, I'm glad to meet you.  I really do appreciate the ride."

"Don't mention it.  Are you going to Holloman?"

"Yeah, that's where I'm stationed."

"Let me guess.  You have to be on duty tomorrow and you couldn't get a hop right."

"You've got it."

"I'm always glad to give a GI a ride, because I've been there.  I was in the army for three years.  I was in an Engineering battalion.  The army taught me to weld.  I'm still welding today.  I finished a job here in Albuquerque tonight.  I'm hoping to get home before the snow starts."

Michael looked at Steve and said, "Snow?"

"Yeah, it's supposed to start snowing tonight.  Haven't you listened to the radio today?"

"I've been sort of distracted for a few days."

"You look pretty bushed, so why don't you cut some Z's and I'll wake you up when we get to Socorro."

"I think I'll take you up on that," Michael said while taking his jacket off.  He rolled it and put it against the window for a makeshift pillow.

In another part of the city, Professor Charles Myers and his family were getting ready to leave a banquet room on the campus of the University of New Mexico.  Charles was helping his wife with her coat when he heard, "Let me be the first to shake the hand of the new Dean of UNM at Socorro."

Charles took the hand offered and said, "Thank you Dr. Owen.  I just hope that I'm up to the task."

"Don't be so modest, I think the board has chosen the right man for the job.  By the way, I don't believe that I've had the pleasure of meeting these lovely ladies."

"Oh, excuse me.  This is my wife Karen and our daughters, Angela and Christine.  I'd like for you to meet Dr. John Owen.  He's the Dean of Math and Sciences here in Albuquerque."

Karen shook his hand and said, "We're very pleased to meet you.  My husband has spoken of you on occasion."

"Well, don't believe a thing that he says.  I'm really a pretty nice guy."

He shook hands with Angela and Christine and said, "You girls look like you might be heading off to college in a couple of years."

Angela said, "I'll graduate next year.  I'm leaning towards Las Cruces, especially now that my Dad will be Dean at Socorro."

Dr. Owen smiled and said, "Smart girl you've got there."

  He looked at Charles and asked, "Are you guys heading back to Socorro tonight?" 

"Yes we are.  I have a class full of students anxious to take an exam early tomorrow morning.  We're hoping to beat the snow."

"In that case, I'll let you guys go.  Karen, it was very nice meeting you and the girls.  Charles, you drive careful, there's a lot of construction on that highway."

"Thank you John, we'll be seeing you."

Michael woke up from his nap with a stiff neck.  He was twisting and stretching the stiffness out of it when he noticed that it was snowing.  "Doesn't look like we're gonna beat the snow does it?  Where are we?"

"We're about 10 minutes from Socorro.  Hey are you sure that you want to continue on to Alamogordo tonight?"

"I don't have much choice.  I'll be okay.  People around here seem to be pretty willing to pick up a guy in uniform."

"Do you have a pair of gloves?  I've got a pair that I could give you if you don't."

Michael reached for his overnight bag on the seat beside him.  He opened it and felt around inside.  He pulled out a pair of Air Force issue gloves and said, "Yep.  Here they are.  A good Airman is always prepared."

"Well, I'll tell you what, I'm going to take you on down to the 380 exit and drop you off there.  At least you'll be that much ahead of the game."

"Steve, I really appreciate that.  Don't worry about me.  I'll be okay."

On the same highway, in the northbound lane, a driver turned the volume on his radio up a notch.  A brown paper sack sat on the floor of the passenger side of his car.  He reached into it and pulled out the last beer of a six pack.  Placing it between his legs, he popped the top and it spewed into his lap.  He laughed and swerved a bit.  He regained control of the car but the distraction had caused him to miss a sign that told him that four lanes of traffic would be diverted into two.  He raised the can to his lips and drank.  When he lowered the can from his lips, the construction barricade was to close for him to swerve to miss it.  He crashed through it, knocking out his left headlight.  Suddenly he was in slushy snow and mud.  He jerked the steering wheel to the left to get back on to the highway.  When his tires hit the snowy pavement he jerked the steering wheel back to the right and the rear of the car skidded around into the oncoming lane.

Steve had time to yell, "What the…!"

He hit his brakes and jerked the wheel to the right.  His rear tires skidded to the left, his left rear fender slammed into the left rear fender of the oncoming car.  This caused the rear end of the pickup to skid back to the right.  It left the pavement and flipped down an embankment.

Charles Myers saw what was happening in front of him.  He hit his brakes but his tires just slid on the snow.  He saw the car and truck in front of him collide.  The truck flipped off the pavement.  The car spun completely around and continued toward him.  He tried to swerve, but the road was to slick.  He heard his daughter's yell, "Dad!"

Karen screamed, "Oh God help us!"

The two cars collided, head on.

The pickup came to rest at the bottom of the embankment, upside down.  Michael said, "Steve!"

"I'm okay man!  Well, alive anyway."

They unbuckled their seat belts and tumbled to the roof, which was now under them.  With the roof severely damaged, the cab was pretty cramped, but they managed to kick the shattered windshield out and crawled through.  Steve backed off to view the wreckage.  "Look at that, would you!  My wife is going to kill me!"

Michael could feel warm blood trickling down his face.  He put his hand over his right eye and felt a cut.  He reached into his back pocket and remembered that he'd left his handkerchief with Janice. He picked up a handful of snow and held it against the wound, hoping that it would slow the bleeding.  He said, "Hopefully, she'll be glad that you're okay.  Let's go up and check on the other guy."

They climbed the embankment to the shoulder of the road and realized that the accident had involved not one but two other vehicles.  Michael ran to the Myers family and Steve ran to the other car.  Another motorist stopped and said, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Michael yelled, "Go find a telephone and call the police!"

"You got it!"

Karen, Christine, and Angela were frantically trying to help Charles out of the driver's seat.

Michael yelled, "Is everyone okay?"

Christine yelled back, "My Dad's stuck, we can't get him out."

Karen and Angela stepped back.  Through her tears Karen asked, "Can you help?"

Michael moved in closer.  "Hi, my name's Michael, what's yours?"

"Charles."

His voice sounded stressed as if he was hurting.

"Okay Charles, we're gonna get you out of here.  Does it feel like anything is broken?

"Maybe some ribs.  I'm having a hard time breathing but it could be the pressure of the steering wheel."

Another motorist stopped and asked, "Do you need help?"

As he wiped blood from his forehead with his hand he said, "Park so that your headlights are shining into the car so that I can see."

Karen stepped forward with a scarf, "Let's tie this around your head.  Maybe it'll stop the bleeding."

"Thanks."

Steve appeared and Michael asked, "How is he?"

Steve shook his head, "no" and then said, "He wasn't wearing a seat belt."

Michael turned back to Charles.  With the headlights shining into the car, he could see the steering wheel pressed against Charles, pinning him against the seat.  Another motorist stopped, "Can we help?"

"Yes," Michael yelled back.  "We need to get this door bent back out of the way to give us some room to work."

Michael braced himself against the door facing, pushing with his left leg while Steve and two other men pulled backwards.  With a groan, they all gave everything they had and felt the door give way.

"That should do it," Michael said.

Steve came around and got closer.  "I had a tool box on my truck!  If we can find it there's a hacksaw in it!"

"Let's go," Michael said.

He turned around and saw that a number of vehicles had stopped.  "Does anybody have a flashlight?"

Several people answered "Yes!"

Steve yelled, "Okay, everybody with a flashlight come down the hill.  We're looking for a tool box that was surely thrown from my truck."

Michael, Steve, and several others ran down the embankment and started searching.  Steve first looked under the truck.  "It's gone all right."

Just seconds later someone yelled, "Here it is but it's open!  Everything flew out!"

Michael yelled, "We're looking for a hacksaw!"

They all started looking through the tools scattered over the ground and partially covered with snow.  They all turned and looked up the embankment when Karen screamed, "The car's on fire!"

Another motorist ran to the shoulder of the road and yelled down to them, "Hey, we have to get this guy out of here!  The car's burning!"

Michael started running up the embankment, and someone yelled, "I've found it!  I've got the hacksaw!"

Michael turned and ran to the person who had yelled and grabbed the hacksaw from his hand.  Though his arms, legs and head ached from his own injuries, the adrenaline rushing through his body pushed him on.  He scrambled up the embankment and ran through the crowd, which had gathered around the scene.  When he got to the car, he started sawing the steering column.  Steve ran to his side.  "Can I help?

"Get these people back," Michael yelled.

He sawed with every ounce of strength that he could find in his aching arm.  He could see the flame under the hood growing, expanding.  He yelled, "Come on!  Come on!"

He clenched his teeth and forced his arm to saw harder and harder.  The flame started fingering its way through openings in the firewall, licking at Charles' feet and legs.  The hood was ablaze.  He could feel the heat against his cheeks.

Charles looked to his left.  The headlights that gave Michael light to see blinded him.  However, he could see the shape of three people standing behind Michael.  Though he could not make out their features, he knew that those three people would be his wife and daughters.  He said, "Always remember that I love you guys!"

Michael realized that Charles was saying goodbye to his family.  He yelled at him, "You're not going anywhere!  Stay with me!"  

His adrenaline increased and pumped his arm harder and harder.  Suddenly the hacksaw cut through the steering column, and he shoved the steering wheel out of the way.  Steve moved in and together they pulled Charles from the car.  Seconds later the front seat was engulfed in flames.  They ran, literally dragging Charles between them.  Suddenly the car exploded in flames with dark, black, smoke billowing into the snowy, night sky.  The three men fell to the ground.  Karen, Angela, and Christine ran to them and embraced Charles, crying and saying, "Thank you, God, thank you!"

Michael lay on his back in the snow.  It seemed that every muscle in his body ached.  He gulped in deep breaths of the cold night air.  He felt warm blood running down the side of his face.  The scarf was gone, lost somewhere during the excitement.  The falling snow felt good on his hot skin.  In the distance, he heard the sound of approaching sirens.

At a hospital in Socorro Michael walked out of a treatment room into the waiting area where Karen sat with her daughters.  Steve and his wife Renee were also there.  Karen stood when he entered the room, "How's your head?"

"It'll be all right.  I took seven stitches.  How's your husband?"

"He has some cracked ribs and minor burns on his feet and legs.  But thanks to you and Steve he's still alive."

Steve said, "Hey don't give me credit.  I was just following Michael's lead.  He's the one that jumped in there and took charge of the situation."

Karen continued, "There's no way that I can ever say thank you enough, but Steve said that you're hitchhiking to Holloman Air Force Base.  I'd like to buy you a bus ticket to get you the rest of the way.  My purse, with our checkbook was burned up in the car, so we'd have to go home first."

   "Mrs. Myers, first of all no thanks are necessary.  Secondly, you need to stay here at the hospital with your husband.  Thirdly, Steve and Renee have already made that offer and after the day that I've had, I've decided to take them up on it.  And speaking of going, I have to be on duty at Oh Seven Hundred, so I better get a move on."

Karen persisted, "Michael, I'd like to contact your commander and let him know that you deserve a medal or something."

"Really, Ma'am, that's not necessary."

Angela spoke up, "My mother is very stubborn.  It runs in her family.  She's not going to let you go until you give in."

Smiling, Michael said, "Okay, okay.  Just contact Holloman AFB; I don't have the number with me right now.  Ask for the Commanding Officer of the Security Police Squadron."

"Oh, you're a police officer."

"Yes ma'am."

"My father is a police officer, back in Minnesota, so I have a special place in my heart for policeman."

The mention of Minnesota struck a nerve in Michael's memory.  He thought about the little Minnesota Twins shirt that he had.  He said, "Minnesota, huh?"

"Yes, have you ever been there?"

"No ma'am, but I think my parents have been there. I was orphaned when I was a baby, so I never knew them, but I have some mementos of their travels.  One of those is from Minnesota.  Someday I hope to research my roots, so I just might make it up there sometime."

"In that case, you stand right here and don't go away."

Karen walked over to the nurse's station and borrowed a pen and some paper.  She walked back to Michael and said, "You have an open invitation to visit my family in Minneapolis.  Here are their names and phone numbers."

She held the paper so that Michael could see the names.  "My father is Captain Karl Hanson of the Minneapolis PD.  My sister and brother-in-law are Karla and Mike Walker.  If you make it to Minneapolis, please give them a call."

"I'll do that, ma'am."

Michael took the paper and put it into his wallet.  "Thank you very much.  I'll hold on to this.  Now I really do need to go. Maybe we'll meet again someday.  Goodbye."

He shook hands with Karen, Angela and Christine, and then left with Steve and Renee.  As Angela watched him leave she said, "Mom, there is something very familiar about him."

Karen replied, "You're right.  I can't quite put my finger on it, but I have the feeling that I've met him before."

Michael walked into his room in the barracks, as Eric was about to leave for duty.  "Man, where have you been?  I was at the plane to meet you yesterday!  What happened to your head?  Man, you look terrible!  Do you know what I thought?  I thought you went AWOL with Janice!  Michael, you look awful!  What's going on man, talk to me!"

"Eric!  If you'll be quiet for just a minute, I'll tell you, Okay!  I was having a great time with Janice when things started to go bad!  She found out that her father has cancer!  So she left on emergency leave!  But I just had to see her one more time so I went to the airport with her!  And the last thing that she told me was that she's gonna put in for a hardship transfer to McChord Air Force Base in Washington!  Then I missed my flight back here!  So I went to California!"

Eric exclaimed, "California!"

As Michael talked he paced around the room making gestures with his hands and arms, "Yeah, California!  They didn't have any flights coming here either!  They did have a flight going to Kirtland in Albuquerque!  So I got on it!  When I got there I was half starved, so I went to the chow hall and it was closed!  I found a snack bar but I was nearly broke!  I had barely enough money to get a hot dog and a coke!  So I walked to the main gate and started hitchhiking, and a guy in a pickup truck gave me a ride!  I took my jacket off and used it for a pillow!  Then I woke up with a stiff neck and it was snowing!  Then some fool drunken driver crashed through a construction barricade and hit the rear end of the truck!  We ran off the road and flipped down an embankment!  Then the fool drunken driver crashed head on into the people behind us!  In that car was a man with his wife and two daughters!  Beautiful daughters, I might add!  Beautiful wife, too, but anyway Charles was pinned in by the steering wheel!  We went looking for a toolbox but it had been thrown from the truck and all the tools scattered!  Then the car caught on fire!  We finally found a hacksaw and I ran back up the hill!  People were standing everywhere, in my way!  Blood was pouring down my face, getting into my eye and I could barely see!  But I sawed and sawed until I thought my arm was gonna fall off!  I finally sawed through the steering column and Steve and I pulled Charles out of the car just as it blew up!  The drunk driver was dead, and I took seven stitches in my head!  I lost my jacket and my flight cap!  My uniform has blood all over it and it's probably ruined!  Now I'm gonna be late for work, and I haven't had any sleep!  And I'm hungry!"

Eric said, "Michael, what are trying to tell me here?  Are you trying to say that you've had a bad day?"

Michael sat down on his bunk, smiled up at Eric, chuckled and said, "Do you know what I like about you?  You never overlook the obvious."

"Well, you know me, Michael.  I'm always trying to brighten up a cloudy day.  Why don't you shower and shave, go get some breakfast. I'll talk to the LT and let him know that you're on the way."

As Eric was going out the door he turned and said, "By the way, I had no idea that you could do poetry."

Michael had his head in his hands.  He slowly looked up and said, "Poetry?"

"Yeah, the drunk driver was dead and you took seven stitches in your head.  It rhymes man.  Maybe you have a hidden talent.  See ya."

Michael watched Eric leave and then said, "Talk about seeing the silver lining."

After a shower and a shave, Michael felt much better.  He decided that he'd best skip breakfast and report for duty.  The first person that he saw was Master Sergeant Billy Quinn.  "I'm sorry for being late Sergeant Quinn.  I can explain."

"It's about time you showed up Webber."

"Yes Sergeant, like I said, I can explain.  What happened was…"

"Stow it Webber, the LT wants to see you."

They went to First Lieutenant Dave Ryder's office.  He looked up from some paperwork, put his pen down, stood up and asked, "How's the head Webber?"

"It took seven stitches sir, but it'll be okay."

"Major Swanson wants to see you.  Follow me."

Michael told himself that Eric had done a good job of informing all the brass, but if he had to go see the Squadron CO then he must be in a lot of trouble.  He only had one stripe on his sleeve and he envisioned losing it.  He didn't realize that being late for duty was such a serious offense.  Surely if he explained the extenuating circumstance he'd get off light.  Maybe he'd just have to pull base cleanup detail or something.  He followed Sgt. Quinn and Lt. Ryder to the CO's office.  The LT knocked once on the door and Major Swanson said, "Enter."

In the office with the Major were two other people, an Air Force Captain and a civilian female.  Major Swanson said, "Airman Webber how's the head?"

"It took seven stitches sir, but it'll be okay.  This is why I'm late sir.  You see what happened sir…"

Major Swanson interrupted, "Webber, settle down.  You're not in trouble.  We know all about it."

Michael breathed a sigh of relief.  "Did Airman Zavodnitskaya speak to you sir?"

"Airman Zavo spoke to me but Major Swanson had already received a phone call."

"Yes, a Mrs. Karen Myers called.  She told me about the accident and how you saved her husbands life."

"She also called me."

The civilian female stepped forward and offered a handshake to Michael.  "I'm Stacey Allison from the Alamogordo Times.  I called Captain Tyler right away to see if we could arrange a meeting."

The Air Force captain offered a handshake to Michael, "Airman Webber, it's a pleasure to meet you.  I'm Captain Len Tyler, public affairs officer for Holloman."

Major Swanson said, "Mrs. Myers was pretty insistent that you deserve a medal for your actions."

"Sir, that's really not necessary.  Mrs. Myers…"

Michael hesitated, searching for the right words.  "She's a fine lady and grateful and all that, but, well, sir, I didn't do anything that someone else wouldn't have done."

"The point is that you were there and you did what needed to be done.  And I beg to differ with you.  If that car had exploded before you got Mr. Myers out, then you would've died with him.  Not everyone would've put themselves in harms way like that.  Now I want you to go with Captain Tyler and Ms. Allison and tell them the whole story.  Then I want you to go to the barracks and get some rest."

Captain Tyler said, "Why don't we go someplace where we can sit down and talk."

"Could we go someplace where there's food sir?"

"I think they're still serving breakfast at the officer's club.  How does that sound?"

"The officers Club?  That would be great, sir!"

"By the way," Major Swanson said.  "I plan on recommending you for the Airman's Medal."

"The Airman's Medal sir?"

"It's awarded to those who risk their lives to save another in a non-combative situation."

"Sir, I’m just glad that I don't have to pull base clean up detail for being late."

Everyone in the office laughed, Capt. Tyler put his hand on Michael's shoulder and started walking with him out of the office, "Come on young man, let's go get you some breakfast."