Adak, Alaska
A firm touch in the shoulder was enough to wake up Captain Benjamin McCoy, who fell asleep even before the airplane started accelerating along the runway of Joint Base Elmendorf–Richardson, in Anchorage, Alaska.
“Welcome to Adak. There’s a vehicle waiting for you.”
A bass voice indifferently delivered the message to McCoy’s ears before he could open his eyes and see a remarkably robust black man, who he recognized to be Michael Iverson, the pilot.
As Iverson walked back to the cockpit, Captain McCoy recollected that he was the sole passenger aboard the Army’s ash gray Beechcraft C-12 Huron that had just brought him to Adak.
Only the two black seats to the left of the light gray aisle, in the first row from the cockpit's cream-colored door, had not been removed, and he was certain that nobody had sat beside him.
Whenever possible, Captain McCoy would make reasonable efforts to take a window seat for traveling, especially in airplanes. He had always been fascinated by the idea that each place offers a unique perspective of its character from a landing airplane, which caused him to look forward to such moment with a certain exhilaration every time.
McCoy had heard a few stories about how exciting it can be to land in Adak, not only because of the stunning views of Kuluk Bay and snow-capped mountains adorning the island, but also – and mostly – due to the adventurous conditions that may be rendered by the often unwelcoming local weather.
That is why he felt somewhat disappointed at himself for missing the landing, but the feeling did not last for more than the deep breath that he took between looking out the window beside his seat and then turning his head to the opposite side of the aisle.
Had it not been for the wooden boxes that were piled up all along the areas painted yellow to the sides of the aisle, where more seats could be placed if necessary, McCoy would have had the uncomfortable feeling that a considerable amount of taxpayers’ dollars were spent for the sole purpose of flying him – and nobody else – to a boot camp.
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McCoy stood up and started walking down the narrow aisle toward the airplane’s rear, where the airstair had already been deployed. Upon reaching the door, he took another deep breath and made sure to start deplaning with his right foot.
A white Humvee was parked only a few feet away from the small airplane, but the gelid wind that was blowing impetuously made McCoy wonder whether he could really get to the vehicle before being dragged all over the island like a grain of pollen.
In spite of the twenty degrees Fahrenheit temperature and the inclement wind, Private James Fowler was standing at attention beside the light truck, thanks to the full body protection that was provided by the efficient all-white Extended Climate Warfighter Clothing System.
With his right hand raised slightly above and to the right of his right eye, Private Fowler saluted Captain McCoy with a marked southern accent:
“Welcome to Adak, Sir”.
“Thanks. At ease”, McCoy responded while reciprocating the salute.
Those were the only words that they exchanged before entering the truck. Thereafter, the only sounds that could be heard during the approximately thirty-minute drive to McCoy’s destination were those produced by the vehicle.
McCoy could not help thinking of how the cold weather and the melancholic scenery of Adak’s harsh winter – with deeply overcast skies and everything fully covered by thick layers of snow – were a perfect match for a place that for a long time had been on the verge of becoming just another ghost town.
The deteriorated houses and facilities across downtown Adak seemed to him like clear signs of the fate that was written for the island upon its abandonment by the Navy in 1997 as a result of the Base Realignment and Closure Program, in spite of the strategic localization that bestowed it a distinct military character.
McCoy’s thoughts shifted involuntarily to the mysterious woman who had been insisting on visiting his dreams every now and then since he was a teenager, but of whom he has never even had a glimpse in the real world.
He did not have any expectation as to eventually meeting the woman that he had just dreamed of again; he just felt annoyed for not understanding the reason why she always ended up taking part in the miscellaneous stories that develop in his mind while he sleeps.
It did not take too much time for McCoy to force himself into thinking about something else; the first thing that occurred to him was that he had always wanted to be a soldier because he felt that it would be as close as he could get to being a hero. He never could have imagined just how close he was about to get to seeing his childhood reverie become reality.