An Object That Was Found 
TYPHOON TREASURE by Gecko 

It was a few days after a typhoon had passed over the island of Guam were I was stationed. We had just flown our squadron of B-52s back from 
Hawaii. The bombers were evacuated from the island to protect them from the fury of the storm. The short vacation was a pleasant surprise for the 
boys in the 60th Bombardment Squadron. But now it was over and we quickly settled back into our routines. 

It was Friday night in the Bulldog's Den; that's was what everybody called my dorm room. As flyers, the brass gave us little perks like our own 
dorm rooms; normally there were two to four guys sharing a room. With all of the extra space, I had created a small bar room complete with an actual 
bar, crafted from rattan and wicker. My room was were every one came to find out what everyone was doing over the weekend. 

The officers in our squadron even showed up. Fraternization rules were pretty much ignored among the aviators. On the weekends, we were all just 
friends hanging out. 

Vic, the EWO (Electronic Warfare Officer) from my crew walked in, "Hey Gecko, you guys here about Greg?" "No, what?" " Remember how we were 
teasing him ‘cause he took leave the day before we found out we had to evac to Hawaii?" "Well, he dove Apra Harbor on Tuesday and found a bunch 
of World War Two, 45 caliber guns!" "They were packed in axle grease and were in mint condition!" "Some guy at the antique store downtown paid 
him eighteen hundred dollars a piece for them." 

Everyone stood in shock with their jaws dropped open. One gunner asked, "how did he find them? After all of this time, you would think that harbor 
has been picked clean ten times over by now." Vic shrugged his shoulders, "I guess the typhoon musta kicked stuff all around and uncovered them or 
something". Everyone paused as grins began to form. Finally I raised my beer can and yelled, "Treasure hunt!" We all began high-fiving one another 
with excitement. 

The party was over as everyone scattered to their rooms. Within minutes we were all outside on the long, balcony that connected our rooms on the 
third floor of the dorm. SCUBA diving came in second behind chasing women for all of us in my squadron. Since we were on a small island in the 
Pacific Ocean, we dove. Sounds from guys testing their regulators sounded like a dozen cats hissing and spitting at one another. The conversation 
turned from, "Hey can I borrow your extra flippers" to, "So, if you find something valuable, will you sell it or keep it?" From there, the dreaming 
began and got rather lofty after the beers returned to our gathering. 

We waited until morning and all piled into a few of our Jeeps (on Guam, everybody wanted a Jeep). We got to the Harbor and parked near where 
Greg said he had started his dive. By noon we had an encampment of coolers and grills in the sand near the reef. Everyone checked in to see who 
found what. 

One guy found a brass bombshell casing from World War One. It was almost unrecognizable, the brass was a bluish green and was covered in coral, 
and it looked like a hollow rock. I found seven, unfired, 50 caliber shells, looking just like the bombshell, skinny rocks. I was disappointed to find 
out that they were a dime-a-dozen, everybody had found a least one before. Nothing else of interest turned up. Most of us were out of air in our tanks 
so we just snorkeled near the reef. 

My quest for fortune faded and I was content to just gaze upon the brightly colored marine life and coral formations. There were tunnels in the reef that 
connected the calm, shallow waters and the open ocean. It was risky to swim through them due to strong currents and sharp coral. There did not 
seem to be any immediate danger, so I kicked hard and passed on through to explore the outside shelf of the island. 

In the bright white sand lay a small rectangular object, about the size of a post card. The familiar color told me that is was brass or copper. I snatched 
it up and headed for the beach. We gathered around to make out what it was. A scratch by someone's knife revealed brass. An inscription was under 
the cement like coating but it was unreadable. "You know, sometimes a ships name is on found on objects near wrecks, That's how they confirm the 
location, maybe you just found a lost ship that they have been looking for", one friend remarked. Once again, the spark of fame and fortune conjured 
up anticipation. 

A few of us loaded up and headed for the local dive shop. The man in the dive shop directed me to a jeweler around the corner that restored items 
taken from the sea. The Asian jeweler looked at it and handed it back, "fifteen dolla" "What is it? Why is it worth fifteen dollars?", I asked. "Don’t 
know what it is, fifteen dollar, I make it shine for you". I handed him the money. "I have it for you Wednesday" 

I agonized, waiting for Wednesday. I picked it up, stopping on the sidewalk; I quickly tore off the protective tissue paper. It gleamed as if it was 
brand new. The inscription turned out to be a verse from the Bible. ISAIAH 54:17, NO WEAPON FORMED AGAINST YOU SHALL PROSPER. 
The one edge appeared to have a fine piano hinge. On the back was a smaller inscription that read, GOD WILL BRING YOU HOME SOON, LOVE 
AND PRAYERS, AUNT EDNA, 1941. Later inquiries revealed that it had been a brass cover for a pocket sized Bible. 

Back at the Bulldog’s Den, my friends passed it around. No one got excited. Condolences were offered for my fifteen bucks and the conversation 
switched to something else. 

It was a treasure to me. Did he make it home? Were his remains encased in the reef? American, British or Australian? Seaman or airman? A 
thousand scenarios bounced through my mind. 

It left the ground every time I did. It saw the skies over Asia, Australia, and many islands. It’s been to the Caribbean, Canada and all across America. 
One night, above a well known desert, it comforted me over sparkling carpet of flak. If it helped, I hope it was for the second time. It now rests in a 
drawer in my desk... within reach.