I had some complaining-type, whiny crap floating around in my head to post about today. But then I got word of an aircraft crash.
Six friends from our old base crashed in the Pacific. Two have been recovered but we don't know what condition they are in. We're not even positive which crew it was.
Spouses are conditioned, particularly in our little corner of the aviation world, to think of our aircraft as crash-proof. There has only been one mishap since Vietnam. These little four month deployments to Guam are supposed to be the safe ones.
Today I am guiltily happy that we are here. My husband is only one little bridge away working in a cubicle.
My stomach is cramping with feeling for some of my fellow spouses today.
Update--10:45 PM: My husband confirms two are dead. Latest AP story says three. Still waiting on names. Is it horrible to hope that the names do not belong to our oldest friends?