Tuesday, September 11, 2001

It was around 6 something in the morning. I woke up with enough time to jump into my cammies and head out the door. I made it a habit to turn on the television to the news every morning as I prepared for another work day. While buttoning up my blouse I paused to watch a breaking news story about some small plane or something that crashed into a building in New York. "Damn." I said with a bit of astonishment. I left my room and headed over to the junior Marines' barracks. I was lucky enough to have my own room in the Sergeant barracks, having been promoted a few months earlier. No more community showers and people banging on doors during reveille, lance corporals and pfc's getting drunk and horse-playing in the halls, and the number one reason I loved being in the Sergeant barracks... NO DUTY, on post, that is. You still had to pull duty in the junior Marines' barracks.

So, I'm headed out the door, through the Staff NCO barracks and on to the junior barracks. I usually catch a ride to the motor pool with one of the corporals. Descending the steps to the parking lot I mention to the guys what I had just seen on t.v. "They said that a plane crashed into a building in New York." It didn't seem like something that would merit a conversation, so we just piled into the truck and rode down to work.
It was going to be another day in Motor Transport Platoon, Headquarters Company, 1st Marine Regiment, Camp Pendleton, California. I don't remember there being a morning formation. They are usually held on the Company grinder, but maybe there wasn't one that day. No sense in gathering everyone together in the morning with no news to pass. Since it was a Tuesday there was no PT (physical training). That was reserved for Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Most of the time I didn't go anyway.
I don't remember if I had the keys to the tool room on me, or if I had to retrieve them from a lockbox in the MTO's (Motor Transport Officer) office. We filed through the dispatch office and onto the shop floor, some people making a left turn towards the restrooms, others stopping at their wall locker to change over into coveralls. I headed to the tool room, unlocked the door, and proceeded to pull back the large steel curtain over the tool room issue/return window. I was the tool room guy. A position that wasn't really the best, but it could have been worse. I am quite aware that I was never a "stellar' Marine. There was just something about being in the military that made me unhappy. Was it the lack of "freedom", the constant bullsh*t, or was it the *ssholes that felt as if it was their MISSION to make your time in service as miserable as possible. I liked it because it kept people out of my way, and me out of their way. There was always something to do; inventories, cleaning tools, p.m.ing (preventative maintenance), ordering tools, and of course issuing and retrieving tools. There was a small radio that I would keep on my desk so that I could listen to the radio or play CD's. I turned the radio on, which was always set to talk radio, and heard the shaken voices of newscasters speaking of the incident of which I had seen earlier. A second plane had hit a building in New York.
I turned the radio up to listen and then placed it on the counter of the tool room window. "Hey! Come listen to this!" I said. People began to gather around the radio as the broadcaster spoke of the horrible incident. Two planes have struck the World Trade Center Towers in New York. Another radio in the dispatch office turned on as well. A terrorist attack apparently. Some individuals stayed glued to the radios while others made trips back and forth while working in order to stay updated on events. A bomb or missile or somthing has exploded at The Pentagon. Things are looking bad...

This was the same day that we were being issued some new 782 gear. Everyone had to go over to Supply with their old gear and turn it in for the new stuff. I now begin to wonder if that was something that was already scheduled or were we being prepared for something big? As we left the motor pool we noticed all entrances and exits to the camp were all blocked off. There were guys with their M-16's (rifles) posted up at the only entrance/exit to the camp. You wanted to get onto Camp Horno then you would have to show ID. It wasn't just Horno, it was all the camps on Pendleton. The base had been locked down. No unauthorized persons allowed. Lock down is not a fun thing. You are basically stuck on base and if you are allowed to come or go anywhere you have to sign out yourself; Who you are, where you're going, when you left, and a number where you can be reached. With all the other day-to-day restrictions that come with being in the military, the sign out log was not a welcomed addition.
Since the supply building just happened to be adjacent to the Sergeant barracks I had enough time to stop by my room to pick up my gear and check in on the latest news on t.v. I grabbed a blank VHS tape, jammed it into the TV/VCR, (I picked it up from a guy pcs'ing -Permanent Change of Station- for $50.), hit RECORD, and left. There was something going on that I felt I should be recording. After receiving the new gear we returned to the motor pool to continue work.
By this time reports are rampant. All eyes are glued to television screens, ears glued to radios. There are people that have family and friends in New York, are from NewYork. I do a mental check to see who I may know that is currently in New York. No one came to mind, but we all felt the fear and uncertainty of what may come of this. This is around the first time these words resonated in my ears as something real, "terrorist attack". Before it was a part of the storyline to video games, or something happening in other parts of the world. Not something that happened here on U.S. soil, not of this magnitude!
The South Tower of The World Trade Center collapses. Devastation. This is not good. A "no sh*t" moment here: I remember saying that if that second tower collapses we ARE going to war. I wish I was wrong. I wish I could go back with knowledge and somehow save everyone.
A plane goes down in Pennsylvania, into a field. For anyone looking for a definition of the word "chaos" I would say "see September 11, 2001".
The North Tower of The World Trade Center collapses. "That's it." I say "We're going to war.". There were mixed emotions, not among us, more so inside each and every one of us. Anger, Sadness, Fear, Excitement, it was all there. Here we are, United States F*CKING Marines, sitting here, completely powerless to the sh*tstorm going on. They came here! The terrorist came f*cking here! Into our backyard! They came into our country and used our own resources against us! How can this be?! We are America! We take the fight to the enemy! How is this possible?! We as Marines are "The World's 9-1-1", yet here on 9/11 "the phone call is coming from inside your house!" People are dying. Innocent people are dying. "Why not hit us? COME AND DROP A COUPLE OF PLANES THIS WAY M*THAF*CKAS!" Cowards.
A name, a name! Give us a name! Who is the mastermind behind this?! I hear many responses: Afganistan, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan,... Saddam Hussein,.....Osama Bin Laden. I can only explain the feeling this way, as a parent who has a sick child. You want to help but the child cannot tell where it hurts or how it happened. You want to take all of the pain and suffering away from the child and take it upon yourself, because you're ready for it, you can take it. America was that child. Myself, and all other military service persons whom have sworn to protect this great nation, and here we are, helpless and she is dealt a most severe blow.
I don't remember much about that day after that. I do remember hearing the number of those killed rising, and rising. I do remember looking up into the night sky, and not seeing the blinking lights of commercial planes crossing the night sky. I remember wishing that it was just some long nightmare and I would wake up, back home, with the daily paper speaking of the same-old, same-old humdrum of the day; "September 11, 2001. Another day down in the books. Maybe tomorrow, September 12, will be more exciting." I wish.
The VHS tape I put into the TV/VCR combo was six hours long. It was done recording long before I got back to the room. I rewound the tape and pressed play to see if it recorded anything. I think a saw a quick flash of smoke billowing from a skyscraper before I stopped it. I ejected the tape, stuck it back into the sleeve it came in, wrote "Tuesday, September 11, 2001" on the label, and put it away.
It has been 10 years exactly and I still have not watched that tape.