I
was on my way to Okinawa , Japan U.S. military presence
on Okinawa is huge. Primarily consisting of
Navy and Marine personnel and due to a variety of international incidents
involving these folks, the people of Okinawa
sadly seemed to detest the American presence there.
After
landing at Naha International airport, I took a taxi to the base and went to
pay the taxi driver in Japanese Yen. He stridently refused and instead insisted
I pay him in American dollars (on account of the exchange rate at the time and
the previously mentioned animosity).
I
checked in with the personnel department of the hospital and was assigned to a
four man room in the barracks for the duration of my stay. Two of the four beds
were empty. I simply put my stuff on one of them to claim it and went back to
the hospital to be assigned to a work detail of some sort until my appointment
the next day.
At
the hospital I would be temporarily reporting to Chief Hospital Corpsman Brady,
who ran the hospital’s file room. Apparently, in between appointments with the
podiatrist, I was going to be singing the A-B-C song and helping to put medical
files in the right place. In truth, after doing fire watch on the USS Belleau
Wood for as long as I did, this was a welcome change.
One
of my counterparts in the file room was a radioman also from Sasebo Georgia
As
it was technically a Marine base we were on, the enlisted club wasn’t just a
rough place—it was a downright dive. And, for some bizarre reason, they named
it Smuggler’s Cove. Hailey introduced me to it me my first evening on base—in
all its dingy, Quonset hut glory.
I
wasn’t really sure what I was expecting out of my appointment with the
podiatrist the following morning. While my flat feet hadn’t been a problem when
I joined the military, they certainly seemed to be one now. During the consult,
I was officially diagnosed with plantar fasciitis, prescribed new boots with
orthotic inserts and told to go back to the Belleau Wood
and see if anything improved.
Soon
enough I returned back to the ship—and to fire watch—and it was as if little or
anything had changed in my absence. I was told to report back the medical
personnel aboard the Belleau Wood in a few weeks and they would determine if I
needed to go back to Okinawa again.
Orthotics
or not, my feet didn’t feel any different than they did before. They still
hurt. And that was definitely a problem. I flew back to Okinawa ,
checked back into my old room (Hailey was still there) and back to the file
room I went.
My
next appointment with the podiatrist was a little more sobering than the
previous visit. Especially considering this is the one where he basically told
me it was his recommendation that I be medically discharged from the military.
He was very honest and upfront with me, which I appreciated greatly. He laid
out the next steps in the process, which included my going before a medical review
board to determine the how and when I would be leaving the Navy. He also told
me that the pain I felt then, at that time, was very likely going to be a
permanent thing from now on in my life. At the time, I was a few days short of
my 21st birthday.
I
would most likely be in Okinawa for a while as my medical files and other
paperwork were gathered to go before the board in San Diego
It
felt odd to celebrate what, in America Japan Georgia and practical jokes he had pulled on
unsuspecting sailors and marines during his time aboard the Fort McHenry
and in Okinawa .
I
stayed in Okinawa roughly a month, working in the file room until my case
packet was finalized and sent to San Diego to set up a hearing. My next steps
now were to heed a new set of orders which transferred me from the USS Belleau
Wood to the base in Sasebo
I
flew back to Sasebo
- Scott Kaminski
* - All names have been
changed.
