I was in the Navy and had been at my first command at a nuke base in the PNW. I walked to the galley for breakfast and they had some TVs you could watch while e

I was in the Navy and had been at my first command at a nuke base in the PNW. I walked to the galley for breakfast and they had some TVs you could watch while eating. I watched the second plane hit. I walked to work which was a telecommunications station. We processed messages for different regional commands and would call them directly whenever they had an emergency action message (EAM). I walked in to a completely chaotic watch floor. Every message was an EAM that day. Every phone was ringing or in use, every computer that could alarm was alarming, our dial up modems were constantly busy. All my coworkers were shouting and running here and there. I had never seen it like that and as a young Sailor it was very worrying. Everyone we called to inform them of their EAMs would ask if we knew what was going on or knew if someone was mobilizing but we were just as much in the dark as everyone else. I remember at one point our Leading Chief Petty Officer (LPCO) yelled for everyone to stop what they were doing and told us to call our parents and loved ones to let them know we were safe. That was the longest day I’d ever worked at that command and no one left that day, even those from the previous night shift. The fact that no one, even our CO, had any idea what was going on…that the military was in the dark, was such an unnerving feeling.