The Rose Sisters' Island Adventure

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The Rose Sisters' Island Adventure Page 4

by Linda R. Mills


  “All the same,” declared Mom, “that was too close for comfort.”

  Our days settled down after that, and we got back to our summer routine.

  One fun thing that our families enjoyed in the evening was going to the movies. We didn’t have television, but we had a movie theatre. But it didn’t look like any other movie theatre. There was one wall that held a big movie screen. There were no other walls or a roof, just the big screen. Kind of like a drive-in theater only with no cars, just rows of folding chairs.

  As the movie played, the palm leaves brushed against each other when the wind blew. I would look up in the dark sky and see stars as they twinkled. Some nights, a plane circled overhead waiting to land at the airport at the other end of the island. But usually it was still and peaceful.

  I would sigh and whisper, “I could live here forever.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Decision

  July 1959

  “IT IS HARD TO BELIEVE we have lived here almost a year,” I said to the family at the dinner table one night.

  “I know, this is the best place ever,” Susie added.

  “Funny you should say that, girls,” Daddy said putting his fork down and resting his chin in his hands. “Things are getting ready to change on the island, and we have some big decisions to make.”

  “What do you mean, what’s changing?” Carol asked looking at Dad and then Mom.

  “Well, soon the base here on Kwaj is not going to be run by the Navy anymore. The US Army and civilians are going to run the operations here. They are going to run the Nike Zeus Ballistic Missile Program from here,” Dad explained.

  “The Navy isn’t going to be here? So what happens to us?” I stopped eating and asked.

  “Your mother and I have been talking about that. We have several choices. When my tour of duty is up here in August, the Navy will give me a new assignment. It will be sea duty on a ship so I would be away for six to ten months, and I am not sure where the home port of the ship would be, but probably not California this time.”

  “I hate it when you are gone so long. That’s part of why we like Kwaj. You are home with us every single night.” I got up and went to Dad to give him a hug.

  Dad pushed his chair back to make room for me on his lap.

  “We have thought of that. So another possibility is for me to retire from the Navy. You can retire after twenty years, and I have been in more than twenty-one years, so that is an option. If I do that we could stay on Kwaj. I have been offered a job working with the civilians coming in doing the same thing I do now.”

  Mother added, “But the negative side of that is that the school here only goes through sixth grade, so you would have to take correspondence courses for junior high and high school, or maybe go away for high school while we stayed here. Not something your dad and I are crazy about.”

  “No way, I don’t want leave you guys!” I wailed. “Isn’t there any other choice?” I stood up and went back to my seat at the table.

  “There is a third option that will keep us all together,” Dad grinned. “We could retire and go home.”

  “Home?” Susie looked up and asked. “Like back to California?”

  “You mean where I was born . . . Alaska?” Carol guessed.

  “No, home . . . Minnesota!” Mom was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Seriously, we get to move to Minnesota?” I shouted. Susie, Carol, and I leaned over and hugged each other.

  “Where in Minnesota? Will we be near our cousins?” I asked.

  “Actually, your dad and I think we would like to buy a house in Long Lake. The same town as my Mom and Dad and your cousins, and just twelve miles from Minneapolis where your Grandpa and Grandma Rose live. What do you girls think about that?”

  “If we have to leave Kwaj, then Minnesota is the best idea ever,” I stated.

  “The very best,” Susie nodded.

  “The very bestest,” Carol agreed.

  “So it’s settled. Minnesota, here we come,” declared Dad.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Final Farewell

  August 1959

  IT’S HARD TO IMAGINE JUST twelve months ago we were heading to Kwaj, and now we were packing up to leave. I thought back to that first time we heard the name Kwajalein. We couldn’t even find it on the map.

  Now I know every inch of it: from the shallow calm water of the lagoon to the busy dock at the ship’s department, from the rough waves and rugged shore on the windward side to the hot flat concrete airstrip, and from the three tallest palm trees in the center of the island that was all the vegetation that was left after the WWII battle to the noisy, rickety jitney bus rambling along the only main road.

  There would be so many things I would miss about Kwajalein: Being able to stand in front of our house and see the ocean in three different directions. The peacefulness of floating in the salty swimming pool, looking up at the images the clouds made. Attending the cookouts at the other end of the island where I learned I really liked the taste of teriyaki on steak and chicken. The friendliness of the residents on the base waving hello when we biked by. The taste of grape Shasta pop, and the sound of my go-aheads clicking on the tile floors in our house.

  I was almost finished packing my suitcase, but had left some room for a few things to take that would remind me of Kwaj. I reached for the red vinyl hula record on top of my dresser and nestled it in between two of my t-shirts so it wouldn’t break. Careful not to cut myself on the sharp edges of my piece of white razor coral, I carefully wrapped my pajama bottoms around it and tucked it in an available corner of the suitcase.

  Opening the bottom dresser drawer, I lifted out my woven palm leaf belt that Luwagun had made for me, decorated with a dozen monkeyface shells and packed it, then folded up my blue muumuu with the red hibiscus flowers on it, and added that in the last space in my suitcase.

  I looked in the drawer one last time. At the bottom was a folder of my school work. Sitting down on my bed, I started going through it to decide what to save. I picked up a sheet of paper.

  Oh, I remember we were studying poetry when I wrote this, I thought.

  I read it again.

  Kwajalein

  Turquoise waters,

  Crushed red coral earth,

  Shell-shocked palms,

  Butternut natives,

  Humid stickiness

  Expansive skies

  Geckos skittering toward cracks,

  A crescent-shaped cradle for a lazy lagoon

  Paradise

  I placed the poem in my suitcase and zipped it closed. Yup, that about summed it up. Paradise!

  The morning of the eighteenth, the Peace family came to see us off. Mr. Peace smiled and pointed at the big four propeller plane waiting at the gate, with M.A.T.S. stenciled on its side. “I see you are taking the May Arrive Tomorrow Sometime flight. You know that’s what the letters MATS stands for.”

  Daddy laughed. “Don’t worry, kids. He’s kidding. MATS stands for Military Air Transport Service. We’ll be fine.”

  “Time to say our goodbye,” Mom reminded us.

  We hugged everyone, and Jeannie and I promised we would write. Finally the five of us walked up the stairway and onto the plane. We found our seats and buckled our seatbelts.

  As our plane rushed forward down the runway and lifted off the ground, I peeked out the window for a last look at our wonderful Kwaj.

  I knew I would remember every second for the rest of my life.

  As we flew over the wide expanse of the sparkling Pacific, I started to daydream about our next adventure, a permanent home in Minnesota. I smiled at my sisters.

  I could hardly wait for our “Minnesota Hello.”

  Glossary of Terms

  Atoll - a ring-shaped coral reef or a string of closely spaced small coral islands, enclosing or nearly enclosing a shallow lagoon.

  Ballistic missile - a missile with a high, arching trajectory that is initially powered and guided but falls under gravity
onto its target. The Nike Zeus ballistic missile testing program officially began on Kwaj in 1964.

  Civilian - a citizen not in the military.

  Commissary - the military term for a store with provisions such as groceries.

  Ebeye - a neighboring island to Kwaj connected to Kwaj by a coral reef at low tide.

  Gecko - a small lizard commonly found in the tropics.

  Gig - a captain’s gig is a small boat used as a captain’s taxi to get him from the ship to the shore.

  Jacob’s ladder – a rope ladder with wooden rungs used for access to a ship up the side.

  Jitney - a small bus or car that follows a regular route for passengers and charges a small fee (originally a nickel).

  Kwajalein - the southernmost and largest island of the Kwajalein atoll in the Pacific Ocean.

  Lanai - Hawaiian word for veranda, or porch.

  Marshallese - the native language spoken on the Marshall Islands.

  Porthole - a round, window-like opening with a hinged, watertight glass cover in the side of a ship.

  Purser - officer on a ship who keeps accounts, head steward on a passenger vessel.

  PX - stands for Post (or Base) Exchange. Like a department store to buy clothing, uniforms, and healthcare items.

  Torpedo - a cigar-shaped underwater missile fired from a ship or dropped from a plane which explodes when it reaches its target.

  Yokwe yok - Hello in the Marshallese language.

  About the Author

  Linda R. Mills was born in California and raised in a Navy family. She has lived in 8 different states, traveled to 48 of the 50 states, and visited many foreign counties doing short term church mission work. A retired English and Speech & Theatre teacher, she has taught elementary, middle school, high school, and college students, and now currently works on staff at her church in the upstate of South Carolina. She is the mother of five and the grandmother of twelve.

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