William Long graduated high school in 2011 and, like many, regrets missing the high military deployment days of the mid-2000s. He might not have served in Iraq or Afghanistan, but he had the great honor of serving his home and neighbors in Oklahoma. On May 20, 2013, shortly after he enlisted in the Oklahoma Army National Guard, a devastating EF5 tornado hit Moore, an Oklahoma City suburb. Whenever there’s trouble beyond the capacity of local and state rescue and law enforcement, the people can always count on the National Guard.
Long had been working as a storm chaser for the National Weather Service. They’d been worried conditions were perfect for nightmare storms. After their predictions proved correct, Long was entering the damage zone in Moore and heard the radio announcement. All Oklahoma National Guard personnel were ordered to report for duty. He’d sworn an oath before God to defend Oklahoma, and the time had come to make good on his promise.
But Pvt. Long was extraordinarily green. He hadn’t yet attended basic training. He’d been in the Guard’s Recruit Sustainment Program, or RSP, a system that taught recruits basic marching, facing movements, and military culture. He hadn’t yet been assigned to his real unit.
But the radio had called for all of the Guard. Long donned his uniform and reported to his RSP unit. “I just wanted to help somehow,” he told me. “If I stayed in the area as a civilian … I’d be told to leave. I wanted to help. … I did not expect what happened next.”
Oklahoma had been hit hard. The Guard was scrambling, some soldiers still shaving as they entered the armory. Long had no chain of command, no first-line supervisor to whom to report. He found an officer. “Sir, I’m here to help.”
“Promise me you won’t freeze up,” the lieutenant said.
“Roger that,” Long said.
A sergeant stopped him. “Where’s your Thunderbird patch?” Long hadn’t completed basic training to be awarded a unit patch. The sergeant, having deployed to a combat zone, wore a Thunderbird on both shoulders. Understanding Long was new, he yanked his Velcro-affixed combat patch off his right shoulder and slapped it to Long’s left. The sergeant knew Long was about to earn it.
The company commander having not yet arrived, a first lieutenant commanded, and minutes later, Long was sent into the disaster zone with a newly commissioned second lieutenant. I-35 traffic was stuck, so the Guard drove up the shoulder to a command post in a Home Depot lot.
Chaos and devastation were everywhere. “At this point, I [was] starting to think, what have I gotten myself into? Am I prepared for this?” Long said. Buildings off foundations, the ground scoured 2 inches deep. Survivors emerged from the rubble of their shredded homes in a daze.
Long’s group was ordered to provide security for search-and-rescue operations at Plaza Towers Elementary School, where seven children had been killed. Eventually, they were ordered to stand, shoulder to shoulder, and march forward across the flat expanse of the ruined city, searching for victims. Long was shocked to discover he’d been standing near an overturned vehicle atop a body for hours.
The next day, with military vehicles busy in Moore, Long and other soldiers drove the Guard’s civilian cars to assist devastated rural areas.
“Thank God, the Guard’s here!” one civilian said.
Long’s group brought needed supplies and helped clear debris.
But then a captain found Long. Since Long was untrained, the officer was forced to pull him from relief duty. Long received no unit award, nor even pay, for his heroic work that day. But William Long will, for the rest of his life, be secure in the knowledge that when disaster struck his hometown, he answered the call.
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Trent Reedy, the author of several books, including Enduring Freedom, served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
*Some names and call signs in this story may have been changed due to operational security or privacy concerns.
