Before 0900 on the morning of 13 January 2018, screenshots were already flooding social media: “BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII . . . . THIS IS NOT A DRILL.” Although within 48 hours t-shirts that said “I Survived the Hawaii Missile Attack of 2018” were on sale, the false alarm showed just how important preparedness is. Not only active duty military in the islands, but their families and island residents all were alarmed by the seemingly impending destruction. With this alarm came the realization that most of us were entirely unprepared.
The commanding officer of Marine Corps Base Hawaii attempted to drive this idea home at a town hall meeting later that day. He led with—and touched on throughout the presentation and discussion—the key idea: you are ultimately responsible for preparedness; not the government or the military. You. Some questions from the audience revealed that this concept of individual personal responsibility was not quite understood at first.
My phone, like many thousands of others, vibrated with an alert at 0807 on the 13th, a vibration I ignored at first, thinking it was probably another flash flood warning. After I read at the message, I did not jump out of bed or even feel the chemical “fight or flight” response—I am not sure why. I believe I immediately questioned the authenticity of the attack. I know the country has what my father-in-law refers to “anti-missile-missiles,” and a text message alone with no base sirens didn’t seem right to me. My wife was half asleep next to me, and our 8-month-old son slept in the room across the hall.
We got our son up. I grabbed a backpack and filled up a couple water bottles. I packed a sweatshirt for me, sweatpants for her, my boots, and a pair of boot socks. I threw in about 6 diapers for good measure, and then we waited on the couch. It was strangely calm. I was on the group chat trying to muster my sailors. The texts started coming back that it was a false alarm, according to Twitter, and at 0845 my phone received the all-clear message.
Fifteen minutes. That is what the base commander told us at the town hall—that we have 15 minutes from warning until the flash occurs. Twenty minutes time of flight, minus five for Pacific Command to detect it and send an alert, leaving fifteen to do whatever you must before you find out if you live or die.
Everything I had done was therefore pointless, because around the 15-minute mark I was filling my coffee cup, the backpack and water bottles sitting empty on the counter. Looking back, I am more than a little disappointed in myself—as someone whose associate’s degree in homeland security included several emergency management classes; as a sailor for not having gear ready for any emergency; and, as a husband and father because I should have been ready to care for my family. I lacked discipline—inappropriate for a single man, but unacceptable for a parent.
At the town hall meeting, the colonel was quite clear: Individuals are ultimately responsible for their own preparedness. He cited sources that recommend keeping a 14-day supply of food and water on hand. But the audience seemed not quite to understand that the commander was trying to tell us that we need to have this food and water available for ourselves. It is our responsibility to spend some time and think about what we would need, then go out and actually get it ourselves. We have to be adults.
The government will not provide magically whatever we need in disaster at a moment’s notice. Hawaii is worse off in this regard than other states, because of its distance from the mainland United States. (Although a missile attack is highly unlikely, should one happen, the state will be in disarray and off-island resources are going to take some time to get to us.)
If you only have three days’ worth of food and water, your only way to stock up following an alert will be to make it to the commissary and back. Fighting the madness of traffic and whoever else is trying to get supplies in that miniscule window of time and making it back without crashing. Regardless of where you live when you read this, Hawaii or not, are you ready for an emergency? No matter how unlikely it is, are you ready for a nuclear missile attack?
Forging a Culture of Preparedness
Most public buildings, including military bases, have some sort of emergency manual/standard operating procedure (SOP) covering many contingencies. But the mere existence of an SOP is nothing without execution. It was not common knowledge that “there are no designated blast or fallout shelters in Hawaii.” Those in attendance at the briefing were unaware that they are expected to maintain two weeks supply of food and water to shelter in place in their own home. The effect nuclear detonation on electronics and communications were not common knowledge. If the military in Hawaii (or elsewhere) truly had a culture of preparedness, these points would have been addressed when the service member or family arrived, not a week after a false alarm. Hawaii’s recent scare should make creation of a culture of preparedness a goal at every military installation worldwide.
Find the Gaps
emphasized the importance of identifying the gaps in emergency plans. For instance, while the children’s school on Mokapu is a good immediate shelter for its students, it does not have a two-week supply of food on-hand for all of the children and staff. Even if the magical government food-and-water truck arrives, will it be safe to break seals on doors to receive the goods and risk breathing in radioactive fallout? Do families know to turn off their home’s air system and shut the vents (something I had not thought about)? Finding gaps in your plan involves dusting it off and walking through it with your personnel, to ensure everyone understands their part.
Translate the Plans
If I tell my wife to follow the SOP, she probably just will do her own thing unless she knows what the SOP is. Plans need to be readily available and updated periodically. A good plan is: simple, easy to understand, and easy to execute. Move planning from the to-do list to the “done” list. Hawaii had only 15 minutes’ notice.
Assume Responsibility
The base commander moved beyond fault-finding or blame for anything to do with the false alarm. Instead, he assumed his responsibility as the base commander and as a leader to make sure next time would be better. He reminded some, and informed others, that the responsibility of readiness as individuals builds readiness as a community. As individuals prepare and therefore contribute to the community, we start to forge a culture of preparedness.
Ready to Fight Tonight
The mantra of “fight tonight” does not belong exclusively to the 3d Marine Division—or any particular unit in the military. Every one of us who puts on the uniform is supposed to be ready to fight tonight, but our families also need to be ready. Marine infantry train to fight using their weapons and tactics; our families might someday have to fight to stay alive after a real nuclear missile attack. Family units and communities as a whole must have a plan, and the knowledge and means to execute it, in the event of any emergency, even a nuclear attack. No matter how unlikely it may be, to sit back and say, “It won’t happen to me,” is simply irresponsible.
Petty Officer Zieno enlisted in 2013 and became a Hospital Corpsman. He is currently the senior line corpsman for Weapons Company, 1st Battalion/3rd Marines. He previously served at Branch Health Clinic China Lake. He is pursuing a commission to be a Navy Health Care Administrator and currently is involved in graduate studies with Stony Brook University’s School of Professional Development.
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