The Bataan Death Flight

In accordance with Marine Corps policy, we were all pretty doggone pooped by the time we ended our THIRTY-NINE-HOUR journey from Norfolk to Iwakuni. It all started pretty innocuously at 6 a.m. with my father-in-law, Wayne, and I zipping out from the hotel to get the family van, Pearl, put into storage. It was a pretty close shave with us needing to be at the airport by 11. But despite Wayne coming to the verge of giving ‘the people’s elbow’ to a mouthy employee there, we pulled it off. The short hop to Dallas was uneventful, but only a three-hour hint of the madness we would soon endure. Dallas to Seattle wasn’t that bad. Nice view (we think we saw Mount McKinley poking up through the clouds), if a little boring. We arrived in Seattle in the evening after a long day of travel and ready for a night’s rest. HA HA. Not in the cards, Bucko. “Oh, you have to check in at 2 a.m. The flight is probably around 8.” No point in going to a hotel. THANK GOD FOR THE USO. So with my kids on a couch and my wife passed out on the FLOOR of the USO, I nervously waited for 2 to come around. Then down to wait in line to check in and check luggage, then drag our carry-ons (Cordy’s wheel broke somewhere around Dallas) about a mile to the terminal. Then more waiting. As it turned out, the flight in fact did leave around 8. At the end of our wait: a LONG plane ride! And unlike our others earlier, this one featured a toddler who screamed THE ENTIRE TIME. We estimate it was about 11 hours. His screaming was inhuman. When it ended, all you could do was applaud. I know everyone says this happens but IT REALLY DID. He was in our row. So a dazed and confused couple hundred of us deboarded at Yokuska to enjoy the humidity of that waiting area while they farted around with the plane. Another flight took us to Iwakuni, but we were all delirious by then. Little is remembered. To give an indication of how tired we were, see the photo of the dinner of popcorn, apple sauce and peanut butter sandwiches. Not only did Mommy think this was a good meal, we all agreed (and still do). Sleep followed, but at the time of writing this (about three weeks after the trauma), we’re only just now recovered.