Glimmer of Lights: The Journey of Atomic Veteran Jeff Fortin, MAC One for the Air Terminal
Glimmer of Lights: The Journey of Atomic Veteran Jeff Fortin, MAC One for the Air Terminal
Enewetak Atoll—a name that may not be familiar to many, but its significance resonates deeply in the history of nuclear warfare and military service. Located 2,365 nautical miles southwest of Hawaii, this isolated group of islands in the Marshall Islands once served as a stage for the world’s most powerful and destructive weapons. Nuclear tests like "Ivy Mike" and "Castle Bravo" still echo through its past, their scars evident in the land and in those who walked its shores decades later.
In 1977, a coalition of U.S. military forces and civilian teams embarked on a mission to cleanse Enewetak of the radioactive debris left behind by years of atomic testing. For these young men, many just entering adulthood, this hazardous mission would become a defining chapter of their lives. Among them was Jeff Fortin, a 20-year-old Air Force serviceman with the 63rd Military Airlift Wing, 63rd Aerial Port Squadron.
Jeff's journey to Enewetak began in 1978, driven by a desire to escape his current assignment. Little did he know that this temporary duty to the Marshall Islands would leave an indelible mark on his life. Arriving on Enewetak in March 1978, Jeff was tasked with a range of duties at the island’s airfield, where he marshaled incoming aircraft and ensured critical details such as passenger numbers, cargo loads, and the delivery of First-Class mail.
Jeff’s role extended far beyond logistics; he quickly became a key figure in Enewetak’s daily operations. From staging medical evacuations—often a grim reminder of the island's dangers—to volunteering as a member of the Enewetak Atoll Volunteer Fire Department, Jeff navigated both the challenges and the camaraderie that came with life on this remote island.
Surrounded by the relentless heat of the equator, where three showers a day became a necessity, Jeff found creative ways to improve the quality of life for those stationed on Enewetak. He bartered with flight crews to secure supplies that were hard to come by—food, office equipment, and even beer, which was unavailable in the PX. His resourcefulness also led to improvements in the island’s departure area and the acquisition of much-needed amenities like refrigerators.
Jeff’s contributions to the island’s safety were profound. He was entrusted with developing an evacuation plan, a task that became critically important during the Typhoon of 1979. For his efforts, Jeff was awarded both the USAF Commendation Medal and the Humanitarian Services Medal—a testament to the significant role he played during his time on the island.
Yet, like many veterans of Enewetak, Jeff’s service came with a personal cost. Cysts began to form in his left arm, leading to surgery and a 30-day hospital stay in Hawaii. Though he harbors no bitterness, Jeff acknowledges the dangerous and toxic environment they were placed in, often without the proper protection or understanding of the long-term health risks involved. His story, like that of many atomic veterans, underscores the silent health battles that continue long after their service ends.
Despite these hardships, Jeff has no regrets about his time in the military. The memories of his service on Enewetak—the camaraderie, the shared struggles, and the friendships—are deeply cherished. He proudly recalls his bond with his fellow servicemen, affectionately known as the "Lowja Animals." In the face of adversity, they found strength in each other, forming lifelong connections that transcend the islands they left behind.
Jeff Fortin’s story is more than a tale of survival; it is a tribute to the enduring spirit of duty, honor, and service. Like many Atomic Cleanup Veterans, his voice rises in the ongoing fight for recognition, compensation, and access to the medical care they deserve. They were not simply lab rats; they were patriots who answered the call of their nation, serving in one of the most perilous environments imaginable.
As Jeff reflects on his time in Enewetak, he leaves us with a symbol of the camaraderie that kept them going: "Capt. Tomcat," a feline companion who, like the men of Enewetak, thrived against the odds. Jeff’s journey is a reminder of the resilience of the human spirit and the bonds forged in service to country. These veterans deserve more than just our remembrance; they deserve the honor, support, and care they earned through their sacrifice.
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