We were close to the Oceana Naval Air Base. The sound of navy jets was constantly in our ears. It made talking difficult. You had to shout out every fourth or fifth sentence.

Sam talked late into the night with Mercury and some of the women. He was really charged up this morning, saying he hadn't been able to sleep at all last night. This morning he called one of the duty officers at the base. He told the officer that he wasn't coming back from his week's leave, which had ended two days before. Sam told him he was now going "to do God's work", so they should not bother to find him. He hung up quickly without saying anything else. Sam had made his decision. But we hadn't made ours yet.

This morning seven of us went to the Quaker school next door to talk with some of the students. When Carole, Molly, and I were leaving the building we heard the sound of a single drum, in the schoolyard. It was Sakamaki, leading a peace walk of schoolchildren around the playground. It was an orderly walk, the children lined up in rows of twos.

Later we held a vigil at Oceana Naval Air Station, at the observation point where a monument had been built for the POWs, during the Vietnam War. At one time an eternal flame had burned there. This was as close as we could get to the air fields. We did not see any MPs. But a man from military intelligence was there to take our pictures. Langdon said she had met him on lots of other occasions.

Langdon had told me of being permanently banned from the military base because of an activity she had engaged in while in high school. She and some of her friends had gone on the base to sing carols at Christmas time, as lots of other groups were doing. This was during the Vietnam War. All were quickly arrested when they started singing carols about peace on earth. To be released, they had to sign papers promising never to return to the base.

We left Oceana and went back to the Quaker House. Supper was to be served in less than an hour. About thirty people came to that potluck supper, all well-dressed; as usual, we spaced ourselves around the room to talk with as many as possible. Conversation wasn't easy for me that night. People were asking me one question right after the other. This wasn't so bad in itself -- what was so difficult was that they were asking the same question at five-minute intervals. The person beside me would ask, "Where are you from?" Soon the person sitting across the table would ask me the same question. This went on for about forty-five minutes.

Finally I excused myself to go help prepare for the evening program. As I walked past Mercury on my way to the kitchen, someone asked him, "So, where are you from?" I needed to get away to pull myself together. It's strange that every night for more than three months I had had this question asked me. It was the repetition of so many conversations that was finally getting to me, not the fault of the people there that night.

Langdon was in the kitchen. She and I talked for ten minutes. I asked her who our hosts were for the supper. They did not seem completely sympathetic to the walk. She said it was the Edgar Cayce Institute. She said that when she approached them originally, they said they would support us by sending out "good vibrations". She thanked them for the good vibes, but said she would appreciate food also, and they did provide a very good meal.

After nine o'clock, we walkers had the Quaker House to ourselves again. Pamela, Langdon, and her three children all stayed the night with us. The presence of children invariably lifted our spirits.

Sandy told me that she had sat at the supper table beside Nagase. A woman sitting across the table from the two of them kept shaking her finger at Nagase and slowly repeating, "Jesus, Jesus..." Nagase pretended he didn't understand English. After the program the same woman took Sandy aside. She told Sandy that "I think you need to talk to the Japanese boys about Jesus."

   April l7, Rest day in Norfolk #4
We were driven from Virginia Beach to Norfolk to lead a one-mile walk through the business district. The walk began at eleven o'clock with about forty people joining. It ended at Lafayette Park, where the Festival of Hope would begin in two hours, leaving us about two hours for lunch and mailcall.

We had a letter from Pamela addressed to Carole, Mercury, and "the other western walkers". It was a long, ten-page letter which we talked about over lunch. She was reprimanding us for our decision to let some people attend the Goldsboro vigil. We were to cooperate fully with our local coordinators and also try to limit our demands on them. She then outlined the hierarchy of importance of those involved in the walk. The national organization was at the top. Then came the local organization, the Japanese monks, the other Japanese, finally the other walkers.

She said the World Peace March was analogous to a plant. The organizational structure was the root system, the monks were the stem, and the other walkers were the plant's leaves. As we know, a leaf is dispensable. It can fall off and hardly be noticed.

I had thought that everyone involved in the World Peace March was working for the same objective. We certainly had different functions, but everyone was doing what they could, according to their circumstances, abilities, and inclinations.

Pamela warned that the schedule from Richmond to New York would be very difficult. She said that the divisiveness had to end. If anyone could not agree to become more disciplined, then he or she should leave the walk immediately. The letter was meant to strengthen internal discipline but worsened it. The western walkers already felt that our sacrifices were being belittled. Then a letter comes telling us that could drop out right now, fall off like leaves, and we'd never be missed.

But now it was time for the Festival of Hope. (Was it ever!) About eighty people attended the festival. I was disappointed in the number, but the local organizers were very satisfied. This was the largest peace gathering in Norfolk in recent history, even more than during the Vietnam protests.

Two people from Washington, DC spoke, one from Sojourners and one from the Center for Defense Information. Four walkers were asked to speak: Morishita, Bill, Carole, and I. Three musical groups performed. Almost everyone stayed for the entire three hours of the Festival.

As we started to leave, Mary got sick. The three-day fast had done damage to her digestive system.

Tomorrow was scheduled as a total rest day, but we had been scheduled for a lunch hosted by the National Organization for Women (NOW), and most of the walkers had planned to spend the whole day at the beach. Discussing this with Langdon during supper, she thought it would be okay as long as some walkers kept the lunch date.

Back at the church, Langdon and I talked another two hours. I believe there had been a communication mix-up. Langdon had never been told that the rest days were needed to recover from fatigue and to prepare ourselves for the miles and programs yet ahead. She had done what she ordinarily should have done. That was to maximize our exposure. There was blame to be shared about the existing hard feelings as we arrived in the Tidewater area. In the end, no one was really at fault.

Later that night, Pamela called from Atlanta. Almost everyone was asleep. Bill took the call. She warned us not to treat lightly whether to let Sam join and asked us not to. We had not yet held a meeting to talk about this; we needed more time to get to know him better. We could see him changing every day. He was more relaxed and his vocabulary was not so violent. But he still had a long way to go before becoming a pacifist -- that was for sure. It was also clear that he wanted to change, to become more peaceful. No one had any objection to Sam's remaining with us on a day-to-day basis, at least for now. The major objections were that he was a male chauvinist and that it was hard to convince him that people needed to sleep at night.

    April l8, Rest day in Norfolk #5
There had not been a lot of walking during the past week -- less than 25 miles. But, the week's activities had drained a lot of our energy. A schedule of walking each day would have almost been preferable to last week's activities. You could see the exhaustion in every one's eyes. The monks' morning prayers did not even wake me up today.

I got up for breakfast at 8 o'clock. After breakfast I went back to sleep and slept until about eleven. Almost everyone had left for a day at the beach. The people from Virginia Beach arrived in three cars around noon to pick us up. They were disappointed to be bringing back only six walkers for lunch. When we got to the house, we learned why. The last message they had was that there would be about sixteen people who were heavy eaters, so they should prepare food as they would for twice as many. This information had been garbled, and some of them were expecting 32 walkers when the six of us walked in.

Many of the NOW members there were retired navy nurses and officers' wives. Questions started as we walked through the door, before we could sit down. "What do you think is more important: feminism or disarmament?" and "Is it true that Buddhists suppress women more than Christians do?" The monks had trouble understanding English again today. I had literally to bite my tongue before the meal was over. And bless 'em. That NOW chapter did more than was asked. It wasn't their fault that we were so tired at this point that we could barely think.

I wondered what was the hierarchy of fatigue on the World Peace March. Was it the roots, the stems, or the leaves that were nearest exhaustion? Pamela had written that our feet were blistered but that her brain was "blistered". Every night since the walk began she had been up past 2 a.m., making phone calls and writing letters. go to page 36