A little over a day has passed since a tsunami hit Japan. Full speed ahead. We were making our way to the area of Fukushima. To a majority of us, we didn't know anything about the location nor the city. Other than that, the crew was silent. Making preparations for the unknown. Gearing up and readying helicopters and aircraft for rescue and support. It was an uneasy feeling. An unusual atmosphere. Everyone was earnestly working and swiftly moving like clockwork. The clock never stopped. There was no count down to arrival. There was no realization of what to expect. Even though the crew was tired, it never dawned on anyone to sleep or fully rest. Everyone moved beyond their normal abilities and expressions of exhaust never surfaced on a persons face. 
Hundreds or wooden pallets fully loaded with water, assorted foods, blankets, and life's supplies  overflowed from wall to wall in each of the three hangar bays. What used to take 10 minutes to walk from one end to the other, now took 30 minutes. Aircraft and loaded pallets were squeezed tightly together with narrow paths for the constant flow of forklifts and foot traffic. Thick black diesel exhaust replaced the air. Everyone was on their toes and nothing ever stopped. So much was happening that time seemed to have staled. This was life below decks. Above, on the flight deck, what was constantly happening below, was doubled and tripled on the top. 
We are giving all we can give. Every thing that could possibly be used or eaten was pressed into huge cardboard boxes the size of a 10 person elevator. When we couldn't find anything else. The crew of 500 thousand turned to their personal belongings. Everyone gave their clothes, personal supplies, blankets, sheets, and pillows, batteries, toiletries, and anything that could be remotely useful to someone in need. Under ware and socks included. All was confirmed emptied. Food and water was rationed. Showers for the crew was limited. If we went to bed, we did so without showering. Laundry was shut down. We ate when there was a split second to do so. Yet everyone oddly looked normal. I don't know what day it is nor what time has passed. 
I looked out onto the ocean hoping to see the stars, the moon, or even a sunrise, but instead I saw the roof of a house oddly floating by. I couldn't even see the lights or the outline of land yet. This was one of the scariest experience in my life. How did it get there? This is completely out of place. Impossible! This was the first real sign of what is to come. We haven't even started yet. I thought I was a super hero. But now I realize that I am truly a scared child that is about the challenge an unknown that is larger than life. I'm not alone though.