Emergency Leave–Space Available
Emergency Leave, Space Available
A Short Story
Bob Smith
November 13, 2018
Telegram: Emergency
January 28, 1962
From: Red Cross
To: Lt. Bobby E. Smith, USN
NAS Atsugi, Japan
Utility Squadron 5
Regret to inform you that your father, Everett L. Smith, has been diagnosed with prostate cancer and is not expected to live more than six months.
Sincerely
Red Cross
“Lt. Smith, Please, report to the Executive Officer’s office immediately.”
Lt. Smith, a pilot in Utility Squadron 5, servicing the 7th Fleet in Photograph Reconnaissance and Aerial Target towing services throughout the Western Pacific, got up from his desk where he worked as Administrative Officer, and went to the XO’s office.
“You have an emergency telegram from the Red Cross,” Cdr. Pinky Phillips, the Executive Officer of the squadron, told him.
“Oh shit, what could that be?” wondered Lt. Smith to himself.
Smith read the telegram. He was already aware that his dad had prostate cancer, but he did not know that he only had six months to live.
“My dad has cancer,” Smith told the XO, “he only has six months to live. I need to go home to see him before he dies. Will you authorize Emergency Leave for two weeks so that I can do that?”
“I have no problem with your taking the time,” Pinky said but let me confirm with the Skipper that it’s ok and I will get back to you. When do you want to leave?”
“As soon as possible but I cannot afford to go commercial air, I will have to go on a government flight space available. My dad lives in North Texas with my mom. It’s a long trip.”
Smith lived in a government apartment on the base of NAS Atsugi with his wife and two young children. Harriet was expecting delivery of their third child in February. Atsugi was situated on the main island of Japan, Honshu, about 50 miles southwest of Tokyo and about 40 miles of the famous Mt. Fuji, the tallest volcano in Japan.
“I got a telegram from the Red Cross today. My dad’s cancer has gotten worse and they are projecting that he only has six months to live. We are scheduled to leave by ship in June which means I need to go between now and then.”
“Oh my, that’s so sad. Your dad is a great guy, I hate to see him so sick.”
“You’re in your last month of pregnancy for this third child. That complicates the matter.”
“Don’t worry about me. I will be fine.” Harriet replied.
“I can’t leave you here before the baby is born which I expect to be towards the end of next month. I think I will stay here through the delivery and then head to Texas when you are back home. You do have Kyoto here to help you.
All the officers and some of the enlisted men at Atsugi had Japanese maids full time. It was one of the perks of being in Japan. Things were cheap. Japanese maids worked full time six days a week for $28 per month which gave them Yen 10,080 per month, a decent wage for them but very little for Naval Officers who made about $11,000 per year including flight pay. For military the exchange rate was Y360 / $.
“How are you going to pay for your trip? We hardly have any money in savings.”
“I’m getting Emergency Leave and will fly Space Available on military flights. That means, I check into Operations at any military base in the world and I get priority seating for the next flight out which is going any where near where I want to go. I can get a reserved flight on a scheduled Transport flight from here to Travis AFB in California and coming back too in a Boeing 707. That’s a good deal but I will have to take pot luck from Travis to Shepard AFB in Texas or some other base not too far from my dad’s place.”
“That’s a great deal to San Francisco or Travis AFB, whatever you call it.”
“Even with the free flights, you will need some travel money.”
“As you know, I’ve been working part time, taking orders for European cars for returning officers going back home from Japan. They can order a new car from me through Tourist International and pick it up at any port of entry they desire in the United States. The prices are terrific. For example, Lt. Collins just bought an Alfa Romeo from me for $2750. I get about $65 commission on that sale and I have made 10 of those in the last two months. Tourists owes me about $650 in unpaid commissions. The Commanding Officer of VU 5 has authorized me to do this part-time job.”
“Wow, I knew you were working on that, but I did not realize you had made that much money. Also, I have not told you this yet, but I have bought a Mercedes Benz for us to pick up when we return to the States in June. It costs $3500 but if we bought it or something like it back home, it would be at least $6000. It’s a great deal.”
“That really pisses me off that you have bought a new car without even discussing it with me. How do you plan to pay for it?”
“I am hoping to make enough commissions out of my car selling business to pay for a lot of it, say $2000. I will finance the rest through the Navy Federal Credit Union and insure it, just like we do this Ford Wagon we have now with United Services Automobile Association.”
“That’s all well and good. You will be a big shot in your new Mercedes, but our Ford is perfectly good, and it’s paid for.”
“I know it’s in good shape but it’s five years old and we will be needing a new car anyway fairly soon after we get back in the States. This is too good a deal to pass up especially when I apply my commissions to it.”
“I’ve got another angle too. Frosty Goodman works for Tourists International out of San Francisco. He said he would buy it from me at cost. I told him I would need a $300 profit and he resisted but I think I can talk him into that.”
“You’re quite the wheeler-dealer,” Harriet replied.
Clifford Everett Smith was born on February 23, 1962 at Zama Army Base Hospital. He was perfectly healthy although his mom suffered from the flu when she checked into the base hospital that served all the military in the Japan area where the Smith’s lived.
Smith arrived at the hospital about two hours late and Harriet was angry. Where have you been? Can’t you give me a little priority just to get me and this baby home?’
“I’m sorry I got tied up in some stuff at the squadron. By the way, it’s snowing out but not so much that we can’t make it home.”
They drove home in silence and when they parked in front of the apartment, Clay, and Catherine came running out to meet their new baby brother. Clay was five and Catherine almost four. Kyoto came out with them and took the baby in her arms. She would raise him for the next three or four months depending exactly on when the Smith family got a military transport ship to take them home.
Lt. Smith planned his departure for Texas about March 15. Harriet would drive him to Yakota, a USAF base just outside of Tokyo, where he would catch the 707 heading for Travis AFB near San Francisco. With his emergency leave orders, he had a reserved seat on the flight carrying military officers, men, and their families. A few civilians who worked for the government were also on the flight. Departure was scheduled for 1300 Tokyo time.
Harriet was now feeling well. Cliff, the baby was too. Smith drove on the left side of the road, as was the custom in Japan, the 65 miles from Atsugi to Yakota took about two hours.
Harriet took over the wheel for the drive alone back to Atsugi. Lt. Smith, dressed in his Navy Dress Blue Bravo uniform with his blue suit and Navy Wings of Gold, black shoes and white hat. He was very handsome in that uniform. He and Harriet kissed goodbye and he headed into the operations office where he registered for his flight.
“Take a seat, and we will call you when it’s time for boarding.”
Smith read a magazine about cars while he waited for his flight.
At about 12:30 he was called to board. He took a seat on the aisle about midway down. Three seats on each side of the aisle all the way from the front to the back of the plane accommodated about 200 passengers. No First-Class seating was available but flight attendants who were military personnel assisted in stowing overhead luggage, serving drinks and food, and managing emergency drills. The 707 was the biggest plane that Smith had ever flown in and he was very comfortable riding in the military-style seats assigned to him.
5,140 miles
The military transport arrived at Travis AFB, California about 13 hours after takeoff stopping one time for fuel in Midway. It was 1 a.m. and Lt. Smith caught a military bus from Travis to Treasure Island which is a naval station half way between Oakland and San Francisco where it exits from the Oakland Bay Bridge.
During the 1960s–1980s Treasure Island was used by the U.S. Navy for shipboard fire-fighting and damage control training for Hull Maintenance Technicians and other sailors. Treasure Island. Treasure Island had a Bachelor Officers Quarters where Smith checked in for two or three nights at no charge. He ate in the dining room where evening meal was charged $3.00. Bus service into San Francisco or to Travis ran regularly throughout the day and night.
The next day after his arrival, Smith called the Port of Entry in San Francisco at the number which had been provided to him by Tourists International.
“Yes, we have your Mercedes Benz here and you can pick it up at any time between 0830 and 1700.”
“Do I need a reservation to pick it up?”
“No, just bring your military ID and you can drive off. There’s enough gas in the car to get you to the military gas station here at the Port.”
Smith picked up his new car and drove to San Francisco where he had arranged to have lunch with Frosty Goodman. Frosty was a friend whom he had carpooled with in flight training in 1956 when the new pilot trainees were in Basic Flight Training. Frosty had started to work with Tourists International the year before and he had done so well that he resigned from the Navy and took a full-time job with Tourists managing part-time salesmen like Smith around the globe.
“Hey Frosty, it’s good to see you”
“Same here, how are things going in Atsugi?”
“Harriet just had a new baby boy; our third child. We are scheduled to come home in June, but my dad is sick with cancer and I am going home to see him one last time before he dies. He lives in North Texas and as soon as I finish up my business with you, I am hitch-hiking space available to Texas to see him.”
“What do you intend to do with the Mercedes.”
“My original plan was to pick it up when Harriet and I arrive in June but since I’ve had this emergency with my dad, I was hoping you might be interested in buying it from me.”
“Well, yes, I am interested. How much?”
“I need to get $300 over my cost to cover interest expense to my loan with Navy Federal Credit Union.”
“It’s against the rules at Tourist for you to make a profit with other Tourist salesmen trading cars. I might lose my job. I would like to look at the car. It’s been hard getting Mercedes here and I would like to have one.”.
“It’s a Black 220 and I paid $3500 for it. It’s outside. As soon as we finish lunch, let’s go out and you can take it for a test drive. I just filled it up with gas over at the Port of Entry.”
Frosty drove it around for a few minutes in downtown San Francisco. OK, I want it and will pay what you asked.”
“Thank you, that’s a relief to me because I don’t know what to do with it. I thought about selling it to my brother-in-law who lives in Midland, Texas but I don’t know if he wants it or how I would get it to him if he did. I have also thought about trying to resell it at a profit. I think it’s worth at least $4,000 maybe $6,000.”
“I will apply for a loan and don’t think I will have a problem getting the money. I can try to have it for you when you get back from your trip to see your dad.”
“That’s fine. I will leave the car with you now, but I just ask that you insure it while I am gone. I use USAA insurance and have already insured it in my name. You can give them my service number and they will transfer the insurance to your name.”
Frosty drove Bob back to Treasure Island where he had dinner and spent the night. The next day he took a bus to Travis AFB where he showed the Operations Officer his Emergency Leave papers and asked for a space-available flight to Shepard Air Force Base in Wichita Falls, Texas.
“We don’t have anything with space available going to SPS,” the Ops Officer said.
“I do have a flight going to Tinker in Oklahoma City in 4 hours. That will put you pretty close to home. You could take a bus from there to Wichita Falls without too much money or time. You want me to book you for that flight?”
“That will be great.” Smith replied.
The flight was a C-130 with seats on either bulkhead of the plane. It had accommodations for about 40 passengers and was filled with Cargo. Smith boarded the flight at 1800 and the pilot lifted off non-stop to Tinker AFB. ETA 2130.
1384 miles
At Tinker Ops, Smith checked in with Operations. “No, we don’t have anything going to Shepard,” the Air Force Officer told him. “You might want to take a bus. It’s not much over 100 miles and I can get you a ride into town to the bus station.”
“OK, that’s my best bet, I think. I’m traveling on a low budget, but I can afford a bus ride to my home.”
The next Continental bus to Wichita Falls did not leave Oklahoma City until just after midnight and was scheduled to arrive at its destination at 0530.
“It’s certainly faster and cheaper by military plane.” Smith thought to himself.
Lt. Smith, traveling in his Dress Blue Bravo, stood out on the bus heading for Texas. His fellow passengers included migrant farm workers, young women with small children and an assembly of other types of mankind.
120 miles
In Wichita Falls, Smith did not know how to get to his house. His parents knew in general that he was trying to get there but they had no idea when he might arrive.
Smith caught a taxi and told the driver to take him to 1501 Britain Street. The city had grown since he left but for the most part, this was where he had grown up and he watched with fond memories as the driver took him the 2.5 miles from the bus station to his home.
It was about 7 a.m. His uniform was starting to show some wear but still ok. He had a small duffel bag and he was exhausted.
He knocked on the front door and after a minute, his dad answered.
“Oh my god, look who’s here. Mom, come here, it’s Bob.”
Bob hugged his dad and they both started to cry.
“How are you doing, dad?”
“I am ok. We are so happy to see you.
“Bob’s mother came to the door, “We’ve missed you so much,” she said as she hugged him so tight he could hardly breathe.”
“Let me make you some breakfast, you’ve had such a long trip. When did you leave?”
“I left home in Japan about four days ago and spent a couple of days in San Francisco and then last night I caught a military flight to Oklahoma City and a bus and a taxi to here. I’m pretty tired, but breakfast and a cup of coffee sounds great.”
“Dad, how are you?”
“I’ve been better, and the doctor tells me I am on my last leg, but I am trying to make the most of it and your mother is taking really good care of me.”
Everett and Lucy Belle were married on September 1, 1914 so this was their 48th year of marriage and almost all of it in Wichita Falls. Bob had grown up in the same house as they were currently living in and he had graduated from Wichita Falls High School in 1952.
Bob enjoyed his mother’s breakfast of two fried eggs sunny side up, two strips of bacon, and two home made biscuits with butter and strawberry jam. That, with coffee, was one of the best meals that Bob could ever remember in his life.
“Thanks, Mom, this is really good. I was starving.”
“I am so glad you are here. I hope you stay long enough to go to church with us on Sunday. I want you to wear your uniform, you look so handsome in it. Ms. Johnson will pick us up if you can stay that long.”
“I plan to stay a week or so. I am traveling on military space available, so I don’t have a real schedule, but I need to get back to Japan where Harriet is taking care of the kids.”
“I’m calling your sisters and asking them to come for the weekend, then. It may be the last time we can all get together.
Bob and his mother went to the First Baptist Church on Sunday and Bob wore his dress blue uniform. Little did anybody know that he had been wearing that uniform continuously for the last week. He had taken it to Mr. French’s Dry Cleaner just across Ave. E. from his house. Mr. French gave him a special rush job so that he could wear the uniform to church with his mom.
Winnie, Billie, and Mary and their husbands arrived Saturday night and they were planning for the family reunion Sunday afternoon after church. The family consisted of Everett and Lucy, Winnie and Tom, Billie and Wilmont, and Mary and Jim plus the guest of honor, Bob. They ate fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, hot rolls, and angel food cake with sweet iced tea. It was one of the few times when all of the family had ever been together. They prayed before they started eating. Bob told them about his new duty station in Seattle and his new baby. They talked about Everett’s end of life. He accepted the fact that his life was coming to an end at age 78.
Wilmont, Billie’s husband, had always been Bob’s role model as he grew up. Wilmont had a degree from the University of Texas, had been a lieutenant in the field artillery during World War II and he had made a lot of money in the oil business out of Midland, Texas. Of the bunch, he was the best looking, the most arrogant and the richest one in the family. Billie was beautiful and Bob’s favorite sister.
“Wilmont, I bought this Mercedes Benz directly from the factory in Germany and I got it at a terrific price. It’s in San Francisco now, but I will sell it to you if you want to buy it. It’s a 220 Model the top of the line and is solid black. You would be the only person in Midland with a Mercedes Benz.”
“Thanks, but I don’t want to buy it for any price. I spent two full years trying to kill Germans and I am sure as hell not going to start buying cars from them now. Good luck with selling it to someone else.”
“I feel the same way. I fought in North Africa and Italy, but those krauts were the enemy. That was true in 1945 and it is still true today,” said Jim Young, Mary’s husband, the youngest of the brothers-in-law.
“Well, never mind, I’ve got a guy in San Francisco who wants to buy it. In fact, he has it now. I just thought I would offer you a good deal if you wanted to take advantage of it. The Mercedes is a prestige car and up until recently they have not been available to service men coming back home, like me.
Bob had always been the baby of the family and the husbands of his sisters had always thought of him as a spoiled and undisciplined child. They were amazed and surprised that he was a Lieutenant in the Navy flying planes out of Japan and he had already completed one eight-month tour of duty flying off aircraft carriers in the Western Pacific.
The next day the sisters and husbands departed for their homes in Houston and Midland. Bob and Everett went down town to see the doctor. Lucy made three meals a day for him and treated him like she always had, her only son.
“Everett won’t be around much longer.”
“How will you get along here by yourself?
“I’ll be all right. I can take care of myself and Ms. Johnson takes me to church every Sunday and comes by to take me to the store once a week or so. I get a taxi if I just have to be somewhere, but I don’t like to spend that much money, so I walk most of the time.”
On Wednesday morning at 0600, Bob, dressed once again in his Dress Blue Bravo uniform with his Navy Wings of Gold, waited in the living room with his mom and dad. Ray Farabee, his high school friend and Texas State Senator, was coming by with his wife, Helen to pick Bob up and drive him to the Dallas Naval Air Station about 120 miles to the south.
Bob hugged his father, and they both cried, knowing that this was the last time that they would ever see each other. Bob was intensely emotion as he hugged his dad for the last time, “You take care of yourself, Dad.”
“I will and thanks for coming,” Everett said.
“It was worth every minute of it. I am so glad to see you again.”
With that Bob and Ray and Helen hopped in Ray’s 62 Chevrolet and headed out for Dallas. At the gate to the Naval Air Station, Bob showed his ID to the guard who saluted him and directed him to the Operations Office. Ray and Helen said goodbye and Bob headed on the next leg of his trip, getting back to Travis Air Force Base.
115 miles
Lt. Smith checked in with the Operations Officer. “I’m on Emergency Leave, heading for NAS Atsugi, Japan and I need space available flight to Travis asap.”
“We don’t have anything scheduled at this time that will get you any closer, but I will put you on the list of travelers. With your Emergency Leave orders, you will get a good priority for the next available seat.”
“OK, I have to get there, so I will just wait. My strategy on the trip so far has been to take the next available flight that is headed in the vicinity of where I need to go so, I will take anything headed west.:
“OK, have a seat and I will call you if anything comes up.”
As Bob took his seat in the waiting area, a man in civilian clothes approached him.
“I’m Commander Dusty Rhodes. I heard what you told the Ops Officer and wanted to make you a proposition. I am driving to San Francisco from my base in Pensacola, Florida. I am leaving now and will be out there in two or three days. If you want to ride with me and take part of the driving, it will allow us to drive 18-20 hours per day and make it even shorter. No charge. I am on orders, so the government is paying for my travel. You can pay for your own food and hotel if we have any. Would you be interested in that?”
“Sure, I’ve got to get back to Atsugi as soon as possible. We have a new baby and two other kids, and my wife needs there to help with the family. Thanks for the offer.
The two officers walked out to the commander’s car and Bob realized that he was towing a boat. That would make the trip somewhat more difficult but was not a real problem, Smith thought. “I’m towing my boat out there,” Cdr. Rhodes said.
From Dallas they headed west into the setting sun. By midnight they were approaching Albuquerque. Cdr. Rhodes had driven most of the way, but Smith had taken a turn or two. When he was driving, Cdr. Rhodes was very sensitive that he was not driving the car as straight as the Commander did.
“Hold the car straight down the highway, I don’t want you wearing out my tires with all this weaving you are doing.”
“Yes sir.”
The driving problem continued to worsen. Cdr. Rhodes drove most of the time but criticized Smith every time he took the wheel. The Commander turned out to be very authoritarian and treated Smith like he was one of his subordinates. Smith did not like it.
By the second day, the pair had reached Arizona. Bob wondered if he had made a mistake. Traveling with the commander was tedious and depressing. They barely spoke, and the commander grew increasingly unhappy with Smith’s driving. In Albuquerque, Rhodes said,
“I can’t stand the way you are driving. I keep telling you what to do and you don’t do it. What the hell is the deal?”
“Why don’t you just drive the rest of the way. I have no experience towing a boat and the way I am driving is not good enough for you. I’m sorry about that. If you want to drop me at the next bus station, I’ll get back on the road by myself.”
“No, I’ll just drive the rest of the way.”
They hardly spoke for the rest of the way until they arrived at the Marine Base in Barstow, California where they spent the night in the BOQ. Rhodes was assigned a room in senior officer’s quarters and Smith in a junior officer’s room. They slept about five hours, had breakfast in the officer’s club and headed out on their journey.
They arrived at Treasure Island about 1800. Smith said thanks for the ride. Picked up his duffel bag and headed inside the BOQ where he registered for the next two or three nights depending on when he could get a trip from Travis back to Japan.
Bob did not see Cdr. Rhodes again until he was on a bus for Travis after two days.
“I wanted to apologize for my attitude on the trip,” Rhodes said.
“Thanks for the ride. Sorry I could not have been more help for you.”
1650 miles
At Travis they reserved a seat on a military transport, Boeing 707 back to Yakota, two days later. Smith made the reservation and caught the plane back to Yakota. He then caught a bus to Zama, Japan where he called Harriet.
5140 miles
“I’m back home. Can you come pick me up at the Officers Club in Zama. It’s where you had the baby. They can direct you at the gate.”
Harriet drove to the Camp Zama Army base and asked the guard for directions to the Officer’s Club.
65 miles
“How was your trip?”
“Not bad,” Bob said.
They talked about the baby and the other kids and Bob told Harriet a few details about the two week trip space available from Atsugi, Japan to Wichita Falls, Texas and return.
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