“The hugs,” he says.

That’s what will pop into the minds of all those soldiers of Companies E and F, 130th Aviation, of the N.C. Army National Guard when they’re home again on National Guard Road behind the airport in Rowan County.

“That’s what we talk about most now,” he says, “about how appreciative the people are. This is the first time people have actually come up and hugged us, and that’s very touching because these people have lost everything. And they’re still thankful for the little things.”

Thankful for the food he and his crew members deliver from dawn to dark and for the doctors and nurses and medical supplies they fly in to help people isolated on islands that weren’t islands until the waters of Hurricane Floyd rose around them.

Chief Warrant Officer Hopper has served in Bosnia and Kuwait and problem areas in Africa, and he can’t remember anything like a hug being the most memorable thing that happened in any of those places. Or anywhere else during his 19 years in service — 12 on active duty and 6 in the Guard.

Nor can two other Rowan soldiers on his crew — Staff Sgt. Joe Petrea, who’s responsible for the safety and maintenance of the helicopter, or Chief Warrant Officer Daniel Farris, who’s headquartered in Raleigh. They’re among those sent to eastern North Carolina when the hurricane hit and the flooding started a week ago last Thursday.

Now stationed in Kinston where the Blackhawk helicopters are being maintained, the soldiers fly out of a variety of places, including Tarboro, which is among the communities hardest hit by Floyd. That’s where Post photographer Jon Lakey and I run into Hopper and his crew almost immediately.

By that time they’ve been here a week and have fought their own battle staying a few feet ahead of the flood waters.

The first night, Hopper says, “we were at a Comfort Inn, and there wasn’t any water. But by the second night some had come in.” On the morning of the fourth day, the water around the motel was three to five feet deep. They were on the second floor. Other people in the motel had already gone, but they needed a place to sleep and stayed.

“And we had to climb over the railing for the Humvees to drive us out to the road.” Before they’re finally settled at the Forestry Service billets at the Kinston Regional Airfield, the flood has pushed them out of three motels.

But it hasn’t stopped them.

Hopper’s Blackhawk is one of four Rowan County helicopters flying seven to nine trips a day from a big field in front of the International Paper Co. That’s next door to the Edgecombe County Sheriff’s Department’s new facility that’s taken on the look of a military base since the flood.

This day they’re loading doctors, nurses, medical supplies and food for a trip to Conetoe, a community of maybe as many as a couple of hundred people, not unlike many in the area.

“The flood water’s over the roads,” Hopper says. “They can’t drive, so they’re stuck, watching their homes being surrounded by water and eventually flooded. They’re not able to get vehicles out or cattle, and eventually they have to be rescued by boat, and watch their houses go under water.

“I’ve seen people drive through water, but they can’t make it because it’s deep and it’s swift. Are most of them getting rescued? I hope so. Some didn’t want to be rescued. One old gentleman stayed and drowned. They found him still in his home.

“I don’t know what goes through their heads.”

But he knows they’re grateful for anything anyone can give them, a dry place to sleep, something to eat.

“I’ve been to some of the schools they’ve turned into shelters. They have kids running around, people from all walks of life crowded together and you think how tough that would be, to be thrown into that environment.”

Overseas, he says, disasters left people with no hope. But here programs exist that will make it possible for them to get another start.

“And we believe in helping those people who want help and need help. It wasn’t their decision to become homeless.”

He admits he’s worn out.

“But I’m a whole lot better off than these people. The only places many can find to sleep are hot, noisy. And in some places it’s real cold and they don’t have blankets.”

But finally the water is receding. At least three-fourths of the Greenville Airport can be seen.

“The Lear Jet that was under water is out of the water now. It was only two weeks old, and they had sent their pilots off to school just before the hurricane hit, so there was no one there to move it.”

But until the water is all gone, he says, “we’ll continue doing what we’re doing. This is what the North Carolina Guard is for. We’re serving our state and our people, God and country.”

But this assignment is probably hits him harder than any he’s ever been part of.