Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, March 18, 1993 TAG: 9303180537
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: KEVIN KITTREDGE STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: DUBLIN LENGTH: Medium
AIRMAN BACK IN DUBLIN WITH SOMALI MEMORIES
Jody Akers was on standby for Operation Just Cause, which toppled the government of Manuel Noriega in Panama.He spent eight months in the Saudi Arabian desert as part of Operation Desert Storm.
So it was only natural that when Operation Restore Hope was organized to rescue Somalians from starvation, Akers' phone would ring.
It did, on Dec. 2. "You know where you're going, don't you?" asked his master sergeant.
Akers, a senior airman in the Air Force, could have guessed.
His mother, Janice Adams of Dublin, might have guessed, too. Her son had been home for Christmas only once since joining the Air Force in 1989. Akers shipped out for Mombasa, Kenya, in mid-December, a few days after he turned 23.
Akers, a 1988 Pulaski High School graduate, is stationed with the 23rd Tactical Air Command Fighter Wing stationed at Pope Air Force Base, N.C.
And now he is home again.
Two weeks ago, as the mission to aid the Somalis began winding down, Akers walked unannounced through the back door of his family's new house outside Dublin.
Akers left Somalia in late February with an airplane that required repairs in Germany, he said. By the time the plane was fixed, the troops back in Somalia already were preparing to go home. So Akers and his crew were allowed to go on ahead - making them the first from Pope Air Force Base to come home.
His family quickly arranged an impromptu Christmas celebration - complete with a tree and all the presents his mother had bought before her son left the country.
Akers, for his part, brought home a bag of memories.
After getting his orders from his master sergeant, the airman flew repeated missions to Somalia during the next two months, delivering tons of wheat and rice. The planes also flew bottled water and other supplies for the Marines.
Akers, whose official job description was "mission support," helped with maintenance, refueling and cargo on C-130 Hercules transport planes.
Missions were flown to several locations in Somalia, Akers said. Typically, the planes would touch down and stay only 10 or 15 minutes, with the engines running. What Akers saw of Somalia, he saw through the cargo door.
It made a vivid picture. Akers recalled Somalians trying to get into the airplane to unload it before it had even stopped rolling.
Once the airplane stopped and the door was opened, the Somalians would come inside in an orderly loop - heading up the ramp to the cargo bay, heaving the 100-pound bags of food onto their heads and then exiting, singing all the while.
The Somalians he met looked small but not starved, Akers said. And the fact they could carry the heavy sacks was proof enough they weren't weak.
Between missions, Akers stayed in Mombasa, a city on the Indian Ocean often visited by European tourists.
Akers' hotel overlooked the ocean. Every day, a gantlet of Kenyan merchants set up shop on the beach, he said, pestering American soldiers with sales patter or offers to buy their clothing. Most of the Kenyans spoke several languages, including English.
Most coveted by the Kenyans, Akers said, were sweat shirts with the names of American universities on them.
In conversation, what the Kenyans most often wanted to know was if Akers knew anyone famous in America - particularly Michael Jordan.
They also asked him if he had a car (he has a Ford Mustang), and what color it was (red). Most Kenyans do not have cars, Akers said, and large numbers of Kenyans sometimes crowd onto a single city bus.
Thus, the running joke among American soldiers in Kenya:
Question: How many Kenyans can you get on a bus?
Answer: One more.
Akers' circle of acquaintances in Kenya included a monkey named Jimmy - a regular visitor to his third-story porch - and a lizard.
Jimmy frequently ate raisins sent from Dublin by Akers' mother, probably making them among the most expensive treats a Somalian monkey ever tasted. Jimmy also enjoyed Wheat Thins, Akers said.
The lizard, meanwhile, was an 8-incher Akers met one day when he stepped out of the shower. The reptile was persuaded to leave by a few thwacks of Akers' towel.
The lizard notwithstanding, Akers said the Somalia assignment was less frightening than Desert Storm.
"It may have been less frightening to him," said his mother, "but I lost eight pounds."