Cpl. Hong V. Nguyen
M
onday’s show time was 0730. Flights started at 1000, with the temperature in NAS Fallon a breezy ten degrees Fahrenheit. Having the “Marine 15 Minutes Prior” mentality, I walked into the shop at approximately 0705 with a severe case of Monday-itis. A fellow Marine had called over the weekend to talk about my time here in Fallon. He laughed and teased me about the fact that I was freezing while he and the rest of the Marines had been at Pacific Beach playing volleyball with some of the Southern California locals in the radiant 75 degrees typical of the area. I fantasized about teleporting myself from NAS Fallon to MCAS Miramar.
20
“All available hands get out to aircraft 09 for hazmat cleanup!” I took a second to let the radio call soak in. “Awesome”, I exclaimed. I couldn’t think of a better way to start out my Monday morning. We suited up and hurried to contain the spill. I ran out, shivering and trying not to slip on the ice skating rink that we had for a flight line. Twenty pounds of kitty litter surrounded the jet, absorbing the spilled liquid, while the Crash, Fire & Rescue crew sat in their heated trucks. Trying to sweep up every pebble of kitty litter, I noticed the jet still covered in frost. I recalled the conversation I’d had with my fellow Marine and thought that I should send him a picture of this winter wonderland.
Mech
