1978

 Russ Price <priruss@yahoo.com>

      Worst sunburn of my life while lifeguarding at the pool.

      Pulling iceplant off of the antenna arrays.

      All the midrats I could keep down.

     Mike boat to the fishing barge, using steaks “liberated” from the galley as bait.

      Acquired/stole a complete set of “The Destroyer” pulp fiction.

      Tom Bowman and His Magic Clown Bicycle

      Scott Adrian – The Best Cusser On The Planet

      Read the news off the AP wire on the radio – “somebody” snuck up behind me and set the page on fire, on the air.

      Has Super 8 video of island and the “Kiki” (I think) USO show – converted to .mp2 if anyone wants it.

      Getting yelled at by everybody at the table for whining about how complicated the rules for Iron Cross poker were.

      Three quarts of Bacardi White, resulting in some pictures being taken of me lying semi-nude in the BEQ shower, wearing only underwear, with a scuba mask and fins on my body and clutching a paperback copy of “Jaws” in my nerveless hand.

      Sleeping under a deuce and a half during ship offloading.

      The sandwich box lunch on the MAC flight to DG.  It beat Meals Rejected by Ethiopians I guess.

      Brits confiscating my dad’s Kabar knife out of my fishing tackle box at Customs.

78-79

Stephen P Gulla <sgkc@earthlink.net>

Subject:  Ghost Of Point Marriene on film `78-XFiles

      I hope I dont get in trouble for this,

      I have heard nothing of the Haunted cemetary and the Ghost at the point,so I would like to be the "Ministry of X-Files".I lived on the rock from `78-`79 and took pictures bushwacking all over the rock.I was one of the power plant watch crew,keeping the power on and getting it back on when the Cb`s cut down hot lines.bummer!

     I left with 19 put backs{putting the outside sites back on line,a record then}. Anyway,I`ll send you the ghost pictures but there is more in the photo then ghosts...and it may make you question your interpretation of the word.I fall into the catagory of those who loved paradise and left it with sadness.

Steve"Yetiman"Gulla

July 1978 - 1979

     NAME = Alan Hohf

     MY QUEST = Spend one day back on the Rock to see how it has changes

     E-MAIL = exrm1@netscape.net

     NATIONALITY = Regular Guy

     SERVICE = Navy

     UNIT = Navcomsta, Tech Control

     RANK/RATE/JOB = Was RM3 on rock, was asked to leave the Navy as a RM1 in 1988, Artistic differences

     MY INTEREST IN DG IS = Interested World Citizen

     SUBJECT OF MY STORY: = Actually, I Have a Real Story To Tell

     MY WARSTORY = Lived in Sea Hut 60 with Doc, Henry, Big Ray, when we procured the furniture and the ice box, which we kept stocked with San Miguel we got from the Air Force once a week, rememer when we attempted to build BBQ grill and almost burned down Sea Hut City. Do any of you rememer our own softball team and that we each wore those ugly yellow golf hats we got at the Exchange. Or when I was assigned bus driver for our section, we would catch the bus by the swimming pool and ride out to the commcenter, the rides off road with a big yellow schoold bus through the atenna fields. Or the several Jungle Juice partys out by the old cannons at the point.  Would love to hear from any of the old RM's.

1978 - 1979

     NAME = Jim Ash

     E-MAIL = esch14@yahoo.com

     SERVICE = USN

     UNIT = Radioman - Receiver Site

     RANK/RATE/JOB = RMSN on rhe Rock, and left the service as an RM2 after spending 2 1/2 years on the USS Ajax. Great times but had enough!

     MY WARSTORY = Not sure what led up to it... perhaps a little to much alcohol, all I remember was that were told to go get the chief (we will leave his name out) who was howling at the moon in his underware outside a visiting Rear Admiral's "dixie cup."  We thought it was a joke, however when we arrived... sure enough there was the chief howling up a storm. When we tried to haul is butt out of there he started to cuss up a storm. I know he got his ass chewed througly for that display, however that was the extent of his repremand.

CARRY ON MY FRIENDS

Date:         Fri, 13 Dec 2002 22:53:56 -0600

From:         "thom rasine" <thomr@clearnet.org>

To all on the ROCK. I Was there in1977-78 MCB74 for 9.5 months. Diego Garcia the land where no one can hear or see ya.  Was there

before women.Was in the last sea hut on the beach. Loved it Hated it... I want to wish you all the best, we are all thinking of all of you and

praying for your safe return. Make the best out of this holiday season. God what a flash back.. Take care of yourselves. Watch out for the

coconut crabs, or are they all gone. But they were good.

Thank-you all  Thom Rasine

March 1978 - March 1979

NAME = Jim Ash

MY QUEST = Looking for old shipmates

VT of a SWALLOW = African or European?

E-MAIL = esch14@yahoo.com

NATIONALITY = U.S.

SERVICE = Navy

UNIT = Receiver Site

RANK/RATE/JOB = RM2, Separated August 1981

MY WARSTORY = Looking for any Radiomen who were on DG in 78-79... Resendez, Docksteder, Mayo, Brubaker?

November 1978, February 1979

NAME = Earl B. Taylor

VT of a SWALLOW = European or African?

E-MAIL = microlex@juno.com

NATIONALITY = USA; SERVICE = U.S. Navy JAGC; UNIT = NLSO Subic; RANK/RATE/JOB = LT JAGC USNR while visiting DG. Civilian since 1982

MY INTEREST IN DG IS = Irritated World Citizen/Communist/Religious Extremist

SUBJECT OF MY STORY: = Actually, I Have a Real Story To Tell

MY WARSTORY = In the fall of 1978 I was stationed at NLSO Subic. It was the day before Thanksgiving and I was in courthe middle of a Court Martial. It was one in a series of Speical Courts Martial involving personnel from the USS Kitty Hawk. The Kitty Hawk had been on about a six month deployment in the Indian Ocean and was homeward bound. In the middle of the trial a message was delivered asking how many trials I had left to do. I replied back I had two. Then they asked if I could do the trial without personnel from the Kitty Hawk. No I couldn't. Then I was advised to have my gear ready to go on the Kitty Hawk at 1700 as I was going for a ride. This was the time of the Iranian hostage crisis and President Carter, God bless him!, was sending the Kitty Hawk back to the Indian Ocean, and I was to ride along and have the trials on board the ship. So instead of being stuffed to the gills with fine food with friends on Subic on Thanksgiving we were thrashing past Singapore, and I had access all the bug juice I could drink. Thus got to ride a nice big boat out to Diego, and got to become a shellback.

    I was flown out there in February 1979 to do more Courts martials. One day I was walking around and noticed that the British Flag was at half mast. I asked some enlisted SeeBee what the deal was and he replied that "The IRA wasted some limey". A rather terse summary of the end of Lord Louis Mountbaden, former commander of the British war effort in South East Asia during World War II, and the last Viceroy of India.

1978 & 1979

MICHAEL R. BABCOCK <mbabcock@pdq.net>

I must say that I have thoroughly enjoyed your web site. I must confess that when I left DG back in 1979, I thought (and hoped) that would be the last I ever heard of the place. But after the Gulf War, and now the war on Terrorism, DG is in the news almost daily. I got to thinking last night, I wonder if there is anything on the internet about my old home away from home. And lo and behold, there you were.

      I visited the fair little land mass with NMCB-5 twice:  Jan. to Oct. 1978 with a detachment that started work on the pier. Then I returned with the battalion Feb. to Nov. 1979.

     At the time I hated every minute of it because I was separated from my wife and daughter. I returned on her 2nd birthday. But I have to admit the place is beautiful. I loved to snorkel and the fishing was great! I've seen some of the pictures on the internet and see a lot of sailboats. Well there were none when I was there. All we had was an 8 foot boat with an outboard motor. We would take that sucker out and bring in a haul of fish. We threw whatever we caught into the freezer for when dinner at the chaw hall was too bad to stomach (which was often, especially when the supply ship was coming due).

     We were allowed to go out on the reef at low tide to collect all the cowry shells we could carry. I don't know if you can do that any more. If we wanted to go to more secluded places to hunt shells we had to get permission from the Brits. But they always gave it. I want out in the lagoon with a friend one night just south of the runway. We wondered out to get tiger cowries. We got our share and when we were heading back stumbled onto an area of deep mud. It took us hours to get back to shore. We were beginning to wonder if we were going to make it back before the tide came back in. One of my biggest concerns while there was not doing anything stupid to get hurt or killed. One person was killed each time I was there. One guy got sucked out to sea when he fell into a hole in the reef while looking for lobster. Another guy drowned because he got drunk and passed out on the beach when the tide came in.

     I read something about a fishing charter. The guy was complaining that he never could get on it as it was always reserved by officers and high ranking non-coms. Well when you are there for 9 months to a year, you should be able to get a reservation sometime. There was no charter when I was there. All we had was the above mentioned boats to fish in. There was a sinking barge out in the lagoon. We could catch a mike boat a ride out to it on the weekend, but we had to spend the night on it. I did that once. We fished all night. We had a school of snapper come buy and caught our share. But that was all. We cleaned the fish and threw the guts into the water hoping to lure more fish. We had one guy in our battalion who only went shark fishing. He had his line out and tied to a milk jug. About 2am that jug went down and he lost most of his line. No telling how big it was but he slept the rest of the night. At daylight, we decided to get crazy. There were a number of sharks swimming around the barge. We decided to jump off the top of the barge and see if we could get back on to the barge before loosing a limb. We did that until the boat came for us. Of course I violated the above principle of not doing anything stupid. But it was my only violation.

      I was reading some of the complaints about the cost of making calls. Oh to have had the ability! All we had was the Mars Radio and I NEVER got through. It was only open at night and you had to wait there for your name to be called. I only tried it a couple times as one night I waited 6 hours. When I was finally called in, I could not even understand what my wife was saying. The operator had to tell me what she was saying. The last thing I wanted to hear was another man telling what my wife was saying. I never went back. We did not have email or the internet (I don't know if Bill Gates was even born yet!). I lived for mail call. Although they were not always faithful in getting that to us. Several times they bumped our mail for space on the 141 for something else of lesser importance. Every time a 141 came in, work stopped and everyone would take a seat atop the biggest piece of construction equipment to be found. We just wanted to watch that plane come in knowing that someone was going to be leaving on it the next day. I counted off every single day I was there.

     They used to bring in these fine babes for USO shows. Now really, why would you want to fly in a bunch of pretty babes to dance, sing and do their thing with very little clothes on. Only to take them to the hospital for the night and post a guard for their safety. I always wondered who was guarding the guard. I never went to the shows. Every time they came I would go and run 8 miles! Then I was too tired to think about them.

      I also saw several pictures of the eateries there. All we had was the chaw hall and a small place called Diego Burger. There you could go, and for a small price buy a burger and fries. I ate my share of groupers, snapper as well as roasted coconut.

     The first time I was there I lived in a screened in hut called the Hotel California. My next tour I lived in an air conditioned millvan type thing.

     My funniest memory was when we had an FNG come to live in our hut. I don't remember his name but we called him Tumbleweed as he had curly-wiry hair. He has this small bass fishing rod that looked like it would have trouble landing a 3 lb. fish. Well one night he told us he was going shark fishing (the back door of our hut faced the north end of the island and you could see the point). Well we all laughed at him and gave him a really hard time. So we all went to the movie. When we came back there was a crowd around our hut. Well old Tumbleweed landed a 9 ft, nurse shark with that pole and tackle! We quit giving him a hard time after that.

      Since I was there in '79 with the whole battalion, they chartered a DC 10 to take us home. I will never forget that takeoff as I know I would never come back. We all cheered as the plane lifted off and banked east. The stewardess asked us why we were so happy to be leaving such a beautiful place. Now that I am removed from that moment by 22 years, I wonder myself.

     I was wondering if anyone out there has any pictures of the pier? I have pictures of the early stages of construction, but I would like to see what it looks like now that it is complete. If you know of anyone who is stationed there now and wants someone to email them, let me know. I'd be glad to correspond with them.

      I would like to submit my résumé to be Chairman of the Department of Double Duty (DODD).

CM 3 Mike Babcock

oct78 to march 31  79  the day the tree  fell on me

NAME = william j stangle

E-MAIL = bstangle33@hotmail.com

SERVICE = navy    seabee    EO; UNIT = NSF; RANK/RATE/JOB = nmcb133    1981-84  EO3  nubbie stangle

MY INTEREST IN DG IS = My Time There is Lost in an Alcoholic Haze, Help Me Remember!

SUBJECT OF MY STORY: = Actually, I Have a Real Story To Tell

MY WARSTORY = Their is life after diego garcia.. but i cant remember  anything  after the tree hit me  when i was running a dozer  i woke up in the hospital is there anyone out thier that can help me remember the rock ha ha       thanks EO STANGLE

1978

TOM REILLY <treilly@geaf.com>

Howdy to those of you on the rock . . . I was stationed there in 1978 as one of the last full Seabee Battalions to be working on the construction of the island. We built the two story barracks and widened/extended the runway to accommodate the B-52's.

     At that time there were 2000 people on the island - all men. We had the occasional women visitor, usually performers with the USO shows. The Brit Club was "by invitation only", they didn't take money - drinks could only be charged to a British person's account. There were only about 30 Brits on the island and everyone wanted to be their friends so they would get invited to the club to meet the women performers after the USO shows....

     We had a tree-house at "Turtle Cove" - past the airport, but before the gate to the antenna site. On the rare occasion that we would get two days off in a row, we would go spend the night at the tree-house to get away from the base.

     We lived in trailers grouped in circles on the ocean side of the tip of the island. There were also some of the original wooden "sea huts" on the bay side. There were 10 to 12 of us in each trailer. We pulled all of our bunks down to one end and made one third of the trailer into a bar called Alice's Restaurant. We had a custom made bar, stools, lights and TV. I learned that a bar is not a great place to live, but I guess that is what youth is for....

     A couple of times we made the trip to the plantation, you had to get special permission to go. The buildings were in good shape, there was even some big pieces of furniture around. The big draw was the old motorcycle frame that was propped up in front of the main house - everyone posed for pictures there.

     For Christmas that year, I sent green coconuts to everyone as my Christmas card - just taped the address and the stamps to the outside...it was a big hit. Also, I had a weekly radio show, called the R&R show on Sunday afternoons - played rock and roll. We were always getting warnings that Soviet ships were off shore listening to all of our communications. I always wondered how many Russian sailors were introduced  to rock and roll that way...

     I'm sure a lot of things have not changed: the coconut crabs, the occasional siting of hammerhead sharks, the white white beaches and turquoise water, the killer sunsets and weird clouds during the hurricane season in India. Is it still an assignment that you get if you piss off your Detailer?

     We think of you often - there is life after the island and believe it or not when you get older you will only remember the good stuff and even have some fond memories. Thanks for carrying on and doing an important job to keep us free. I have a 12 year old son and I want him to have all the opportunities I had as a youngster - it is your sacrifice that will make that possible and we can not thank you enough.

1978-1979

Ken Adler <kadler@lyon.edu>

1978-1979.  The good old days.  I went there sort of voluntarily (third choice behind Souda Bay and Antartcia), but I really didn't mind it at all once I got there.  I still sometimes dream about how beautiful it was, although a tad distant.  My best "war story" probably has to do with AFRTS.  I was a volunteer DJ and did a nightly jazz show for a while, then switched to a once a week rock show on Monday nights.  I got my tail chewed out REAL good and proper for teaming up with "The Rude Dude" and doing a show one night called "The Stems and Seeds of Rock and Roll".  They didn't see the humor.

Kenton Adler

kadler@lyon.edu

I can't seem to face up to the facts

I'm tense and nervous and I can't relax

http://www.lyon.edu/webdata/users/kadler/public_html/index.html

June 1978 to June 1979

NAME = Steve Vose <svose@one-eleven.net>

MY QUEST = Get in touch with old shipmates.

VT of a SWALLOW = Swift

NATIONALITY = Full- blooded American from the Great state of Illinois; SERVICE = U.S.Navy; UNIT = NavFac- Public Works-Seabees; RANK/RATE/JOB = Then CECN, Retired Reserves 1998 as CE1.

MY INTEREST IN DG IS = Stroll Down Memory Lane

MY WARSTORY = Where do I start? First of all, I was just thinking, a person shouldn't smoke more than one cig at a time.  Secondly, to all of you blokes who have recorded your history of the Rock on this site - You have helped in some small way to help deliver justice to the terrorist bastards that did us wrong. God bless the U.S.A.

     Back down memory lane.  Arrived June 1978 for NavFac Public Works. Worked in the Telephone Exchange for a CE1 Runyon at first for about 9 months, then worked at site near generator/power plant in the CE Electrical Shop.  I remember many faces but not many names. I remember playing softball with a talented group of Seabees from Public Works.I played alot of raquetball with a Steve Morgan from One of the New England states.  I still have a small scar on my face from the day he hit me sqare in the face with his raquet.  Some names I remember are CMCN Mike Hart, CECN  Tom Sercin, CMCN Larry Williams, CMCN Mike Hutton from Iowa.  Bucci (from N.Y.?).

     Bucci came knocking on the door one evening. Opened the door and he was standing there with a box in his hand from mailcall and a smile on his face.  Needless to say, we had some nice R&R for about a month without leaving the island.

     Paragraph.  I remember being on a work detail one day to pick up trash along the main road on tne island. Our small group of about 6 guys encountered a hoard of beach crabs (not coconut crabs) about 10 miles down the road from town. We all had broomsticks with a nail in the end.  We proceded to play a game of Crab-Baseball with the numerous crabs and broomsticks.  What fun!

     I also remember drinking lots of beer--Olympia Beer as a matter of fact. NMCB 40 was leaving the island right after I got there. Two days before they left, they showed the first "Rocky" movie at the original outdoor movie theater.  During the final fight scene, the 40 Seabees were throwing full cans of beer at the screen and about three  feet over the top of

my head. Wild shit. I got the hell out of there.

     I remember faintly the original Donky Burger place. Remember going out to the cannons for a smoke. Remember EOCN Donahue. Have pictures somewhere of Missy the Donkey drinking a can of beer.  Remember the old firehouse where I had duty.The bucket-truck was cool.  Collecting seashells at low tide out on the reef at night.  Seeing a SR 71 for about 1/10th of a second shoot almost straight up.

    Many names and events not remembered. If you knew me while I was there, get in touch.

U.S.A. all the way !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

February 1978 - February 1979

NAME = Robert E. Pullen

MY QUEST = To one day return, just for a visit.

VT of a SWALLOW = I have no idea.

E-MAIL = repullen@citlink.net

NATIONALITY = American; SERVICE = U.S. Navy; UNIT = Receiver Site, Transmitter Site, Antenna Mtc Crew

RANK/RATE/JOB = Radioman "Screamin'" Seaman. Now Reserve IT1 scheduled to retire this year due to HYT.

MY INTEREST IN DG IS = My Time There is Lost in an Alcoholic Haze, Help Me Remember!

SUBJECT OF MY STORY: = Actually, I Have a Real Story To Tell

MY WARSTORY = The first (and last) time I tried Skoll Chew. I was on the Antenna Maintenance Crew for 3 months. One hot afternoon we were driving back to town and everyone in the back of the truck was chewing skoll. They talked me into trying it. After a few minutes they asked me where I was spitting. "Spittin'", I said. "I'm NOT spittin'". They all started laughing, knowing it wouldn't be long till I was blowin' chunks. Then we hit a bump and the whole pinch went down my throat!!!! Needless to say, I was sick the entire next day.

     I am still interested in contacting old buddies ET2 John Smith who was sent to a ship in Florida and RMSN Bob Barnes who was sent to Thursough (sp), Scotland. I, in turn, was sent to Brawdy, Wales for my remaining time on Active Duty. I got out because everyone said the only ones who staid on active duty were those who couldn't make it on the outside. I wanted to prove (mostly to myself) that I wasn't in that category. Fortunately for me, I've stayed in the Reserves and have had a great time over the last 20 years.

Aug 78 to June 80

NAME = Harry "Hank" Conlon

MY QUEST = All that is fine in life

VT of a SWALLOW = Depends on who's doing the swallowing

E-MAIL = hwconlon@aol.com

NATIONALITY = American; SERVICE = Navy; UNIT = Navcomsta / Air Ops; RANK/RATE/JOB = RM2 then Graphic Artist & Designer now

MY INTEREST IN DG IS = Stroll Down Memory Lane

SUBJECT OF MY STORY: = Actually, I Have a Real Story To Tell

MY WARSTORY = My roomate RM3 Steve Guzman blasted me full force with a racket while playing racketball. Where did it connect? Right testical. I went down like a ton of bricks. Steve freaks out runs and get help. 6 guys toss me up on thier shoulders and transport me a hundred or so yard to the sick bay. By the time I got there I was in agony! My nut had already began to swell. I was screaming to them to cut it off because it was swelling so fast and hurting so bad. The corpman gave me MORAPHINE! Oh baby! Within a few minutes I was feeling NO pain, stoned out of my mind. The guys who had carried me over all hung around so they could see this gigantic testical. I was hospitalized for almost 3 months with what was called epididamitious. Years later I found out that the nut had been disconnected (epididamitius is a twisting of the cord that connects to the nut). 15 years later when I found this out my current wife and I where trying to have a baby. I underwent surgury to try and reconnect the nut. Didn't work. BUT: while stuck in the sickbay I became good friends with several of thecorpmen. One of them even charged a buck for a look at my swollen nut. It got to the size of a goose egg and stayed that way for 6 weeks. When the swelling finally broke, the outer 2 or 3 layers of skin on my nut sack died and seperated, just like a bad case of athletes foot. I pealed it off in ONE PIECE! I kept it in my bedside drawer for several days to show off. It finally dried up all nastily like and I passed it off as a piece of beef jerky to a visiting USO babe..... hahahahahaha...not really. I threw it away. This really DID happen, no shit. (everything cept that jerky part)

     I devoured that island! It was AWESOME. Every special service activity there was to do, I did it. I learned to sail, snorkel, scuba dive, tennis, racket ball-(busting). I found a friend who taught me how to take awesome photographs. I found a friend who taught me some martial arts. I drank so much liquer, that if I wasn't drunk, I was hung over, soon to be drunk again. I had pot smuggled to me all the time in care packages from home, I was oh so clever back then. I'll never tell how I got it past the dogs, but I did, and it was genius!

     3 days before my tour was up and I was to return home, I recieved a 6 months extension. I went into a rage. Because of my ball busting I was not allowed to go to the PI for R&R. (the Doctor said if I contracted clap or something I could loose the nut. I would have to wait a few more months till I went home to get laid. I shoulda gave him the nut sack jerky!) So I patiently wait till it's time for me to leave and the CO gives me a 6 fucking month extension! When I did my 6 extra months, I was called into the CO's office for the re-enlistment pep talk. I found out that my next duty station was going to be.... no shit..... Operation Deep Freeze, south pole! YOU   HAVE   GOT   TO   BE   FUCKING   KIDDING!  They were going to give me $5,000 to re-up. Before I would leave I was going to get 5 months R&R. That was the selling point. (I was highly proficient at the operation of a computer system called a DSTE  ('Dusty'). USN really wanted me to stay) After the CO gave me his buddy buddy pal-o-mine talk and asked me what I thought, it told him "I'd suck off elephants at a nickel a herd before I re-enlisted in this chicken shit outfit" He got very very angry, lots of yelling. I took my discharge 2 months later in San Francisco.

January 78 - January 79

NAME = Bill Owens (aka Wild Bill)

MY QUEST = Better  living through chemistry

VT of a SWALLOW = real freakin fast

E-MAIL = cmhydinc@bellsouth.net

NATIONALITY = amurican, dammit; SERVICE = navy; UNIT = navsecgrudet

RANK/RATE/JOB = CTO3 forced retirement in april 1983 - retired as senior seaman in pacific fleet

MY INTEREST IN DG IS = My Time There is Lost in an Alcoholic Haze, Help Me Remember!

SUBJECT OF MY STORY: = I'd Like to Share Precious Memories of Drinking/Fishing/Snorkeling/Sailing on Diego Garcia

MY WARSTORY = Oh shit, where to begin.  Buying a case of bar soap when you first get there so you dont have to bend over in the shower at the seahuts.  Booze sure was cheap - Imperial quarts of Jack Black for about 6 bucks. Mark Halley was my roomy and must still be pissed off cause I bitch slapped him one night over some piddly shit when we wuz drunk.  (sorry mark, drop me a line homes.) Almost got my skull bashed in at the nco club cause i decided i was gonna get some trim off the ugly nag in the uso show, was saved by slipping in a puddle of somelthing.  (remember that one mark, you and doug saved my ass from the shore patrol chiefs.) Lots of fishin but never caught a big one. Took leave to the PI and had a large time. Temporarily lost clearance due to skank at previous duty station (honest officer, had i known my health stood in jeapordy i never would have lit it). Gawd Mark, they sure did stick me with some nerd roomies after you and doug left. last few months sucked much more than necessary.  Temporarily liberated BEQ stake bed truck for midnight run down to T site so I could get somethin to eat - damn near hit donkey gate. AND HEY, I BROKERED THE DANG FISH DEAL WITH THE FILIPINOS THAT MEACHAM SPEAKS OF - CREDIT WHERE ITS DUE. Hey, somebody drop me a line. I'm bored to death!

Back to Back 78-79

NAME = BRIAN PENZ

VT of a SWALLOW = THE WINDSHIELD IT HITS

E-MAIL = Robpenz@swbell.net

NATIONALITY = absolutely; SERVICE = SEABEE; UNIT = NMCB 4; RANK/RATE/JOB = Basic all around RENEGADE

MY INTEREST IN DG IS = Geo-political Rabble Rousing

MY WARSTORY =  I joined NMCB4 the day they returned from Peter Rico.  As an EO,they put me in supply; repair parts.From that day forward the Nav and me were at war.  The Rock was my first,(and second),deployment.What a fucking trip!!  I  remember the trailers we lived in.  I remember living with Weasel, Paul Mayu (rest in peace,BRO), Ralph Moyer, a blonde dude named Mark, and someone else.  Mort,maybe.  WE had a beer tab chain that looped around the whole inside of the trailer/down all the walls and down the center.   Since we all worked supply, we had a few more "amenities" inthe trailer than most other trailers.  Refrigerator and a couple of igloo coolers.

      I remember the "supplies" the cement ship brought in from Africa.   I remember"frying" one day at the cannon while a monsoon came in and coconuts falling all around.

      Does anyone remember the poem;"I took an invatation with a bad vibration"?   I dont know if there is a statue of limitations on some of the things I remember.

      I will always remember the snorkling.  It doesnt get any better. One morning as the sun was comeing up, me and Dave Whitmer (he had joined the Pier Team)were out on the end of the peir and an 18' hammerhead swam out from under the pier.  That thought still makes the hair on my neck stand up.

     By  the way, for those that heard otherwise, I DID NOT get killed in the car wreck with Jim Roberts.  And if anyone knows Jim Roberts or anyone else who remembers me, I'm in the phone book; Austin,TX.  Later, Rock Rats.

1st Time December 1975 (3 months), Second Time May 1978 (4 months), Third Time January 1979 (3 months), Forth time March 1982 (18 months) August 1983 - December 1985

NAME = Jack Kaltenhauser

E-MAIL = arizseabee@email.msn.com

SEE HIS 1975 & 1983 ENTRIES...

1978

William Gadzuk <WGadzuk@aol.com>

     My friend Jess said she saw a picture of the Maldives and she wanted to go there.  I told her I was there in 1978 on Diego Garcia.  I was there before woman were permitted on the "The Rock" .  I was the transfer personnelman for the island.  I transferred 332 sailors to and from the island the year I was there. I remember being on 24 hour alert for two weeks while Pres Carter debated whether to send troops into Yemen.  I remember landing on the island and thinking it was like the old show "Rat Patrol" where the jeeps were going through the sand.   The year I was there we had a  new LT Cdr Zettler arrive.  He was 42 and was there 4 days and died in a game of raquetball with YN2 Goins.  I remember being written up for asking the base commander Capt Hodge why the Phillipino cooks got lobster and steak for their party Rats and we only got hot dogs and hamburgers".

      I became friendly with a chaplain there Cap Gryga (who retired last year in North Carolina) and who drunk more than I did.  I remember Captain Hodge drank a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red every day, his ltcdr drank a bottle of

Kahlua every day, I was always in the Brits club, and drank at least half case of Oly Gold and 1/2 case of san Miguel evry day along with that old standard Apple wine.  I remember typing the orders for the Capt transfer stateside to his new command. (he really went to dry out)I remember helping (15 of us) beat this 2nd class petty officer from texas who said he was gay to get a transfer off the island.  i remember all of our "illegal" substances came from the flight officers who where never searched.  I was never busted because I was friendly with the "brits" and always knew when the dogs were coming.  I remember getting my seiko watch for $ 52.00 which I still have, playing alot of softball and eating coconut crabs and sometimes "shooting them up" with formaldehyde from the medical office and mounting them for trophies. I left a message written on the underside of the desk in the personnel office at the time.  I wonder if its still there ?  And

especially, I remember getting the CRABS from the Quonset huts we had to sllep in because the new lodgings were just being completed.  I have to go now, I do feel so much better now. i have added this to my favorite site.  I also still have a hat that SAYs Digo Garcia Yatch club.  thanks for the time. I got lots more stories too

Sincerely,  PNSN William G. Gadzuk (retired) okay booted out 2 years later...but what the hell

     P.S.  I am just reading through the web site and I also neglected to say I volonteered to go to Diego Garcia.  The people in Meridian thought I was crazy.  My whole plan was to spend my whole career on Isolated duty stations.....B Gadzuk

1978 & VP-48 Deployments in 79, 80, & 81

DAVE "DJ" JOHNSON <Ejection4@aol.com>

Great site, OLE DG brings back memories, I was there for my year in 78, and went back with VP-48 in 79, 80, 81. I would like to become a member. thanks for the memories Dave "DJ" Johnson

1978-1979

BILL MEACHAM <bill.meacham@home.com>

Hi,  Saw your web page and decided to email you.

     I was in the Navy from 1974-1980 (PO2 CTM). I was stationed on DG in 1978-79. I worked at "C" site. Among my most memorable moments were shelling (I have a good collection of cowries), fishing ( a fisherman's paradise), catching and embalming a coconut crab (that practice was eventually banned for good reason), serving as Master At Arms in the chow hall for a month (a fate worse than death), and, most notably, serving as the Brit rep's plantation warden the last month of my tour. Plantation warden was the best, driving over to the plantation every day, fishing for my lunch, walking the beach, helping a giant sea turtle get turned around back toward the ocean after laying her eggs, letting "Bessy" (pet name for one of the donkeys) slurp down a cold soda, and walking from the plantation all the way to T-site when my jeep broke down. Some other memorable moments were watching the Brits bring in a giant grouper that had been scaring the Navy divers (it was just small enough to fit in the back of a pickup truck), watching a workmate use a surf rod to catch what would have been a world record Jack (he gave it to the Filipino workers who promptly had a dinner party), and seeing an SR-71 up close. I have to say I am lucky to have gotten the opportunity to go there and I thoroughly enjoyed my stay (even if it was a time when women weren't allowed).

     Anyway, I'd like to think of myself as one of the PPDRDG members.  [ED NOTE:  You are! Anybody who would help a sea turtle is an automatic member, with 2 votes!]

1978

RONALD BLANKENSHIP <rblank@earthlink.com>

MY QUEST = hear from servivers

VT of a SWALLOW = depends on how pissed you were

NATIONALITY = U.S.; SERVICE = Navy; UNIT = NMCB-4; RANK/RATE/JOB = SWCN/SW3

MY INTEREST IN DG IS = Want to Return When the First REAL Club Med Opens

SUBJECT OF MY STORY: = This is a No-Shit Fishing Story

MY WARSTORY = we used to have fishing hooks sent from home, made our lures from galley spoons and checked out poles from special services. If anyone was wondering where one of the two or three poles went it was into the lagoon while I looked away for a second hehe. We played mini golf a few times, got old real quik. My favorite was chocolate ice cream cone from diego burger. I worked for Commodore Clear Water for shot time shinning his jeep and bringing him galley dognuts. He was the nicest officers I ever met till one day a guy rolled a cement truck taking a corner too fast haha, he wanted the poor guy sent to the Brig. Glad he never found out how I took his jeep four wheelin on the beach and almost got stuck LOL. It was a long ass deployment and guys did alot of crazy things too much too discribe. One guy drove a five ton to the edge of the reef at our mid deployment party then walked to shore. Another idiot burned the shitter to the ground instead of removing drum first.  I remember him making second class shortly after that.  Also thse poor BUs who had to clean the mess when the sewage backed up.  Up to theyer chest in shit.  Yes its was such a nice Rock in the in the middle of no where.

Dec 1978 - Nov 1979

FRED CASTLE <fcastle1@uswest.net>

MY QUEST = To one day return to DG just for a week or so.

VT of a SWALLOW = Depends on who's doing the swallowing and what it is.

NATIONALITY = Sailor; SERVICE = Navy; UNIT = Naval Support Facility; RANK/RATE/JOB = Chief Navy Counselor (AC)

Retired 1981.  Now work in the Corporate World held positions from Customer Service to Vice President

MY INTEREST IN DG IS = Want to Return When the First REAL Club Med Opens

SUBJECT OF MY STORY: = Actually, I Have a Real Story To Tell

MY WARSTORY = Must have been the crew I was stationed with but I have so many stories that there isn't room to tell them all.  I remember the USO show with KIKI and her Honey Bunnies USO show and when the JO developed the pics, one of them were wearing crotchless panty hose.  Remember the special services Sr Chief and I escorting a beautiful USO female singer all over the island and ending up at the Brit Club with her, then brought her back to the Chief Quarters, we were respectful but I can remember it sure was nice to hold a girls hand.

     Remember the JAG officers running incident and in shorts, remember a bunch of SeaBees driving trucks over to the middle island when the tide was out, then getting stranded there.  Remember, catching longusta/lobsters on the reef at night, tearing off the tails and throwing them in a pot of boiling sea water on the beach, lobster and beer.  Remember, making Margaritas out of Gatoraide and playing poker and telling the CO off, that didn't go over to well.  Remember, my Career Counselors office/house under the trees behind boatops and making hundreds of calls to Washington getting guys orders to fantastic duty stations and when I left the best I could do was Guam.

Remember, being the only Sailor on the Island with a phone in his quarters, and being able to call the states for guys, through FTS operators so they could talk to family.

     Remember going to the Plantation before the Brits restricted it, Brit rep was a friend so could go anytime anyway, found a communications shack, and found a house no one new was there in the jungle.  Took a picture of a flower and it was sent to London as a new species never found on the Island before,  spent many hours tramping throught the jungle. Oh by the way the Donkey that lived at the Plantation and drank and ate onions, her real name was Missy not Francine.  Her mother died when she was born and she was raised by sailors.  Remember, the CPO club and Chiefs Mess all in one building on the beach, eating steak and lobster when the ship came in and hot dogs when it was due again.

     Remember, Sprinkle (a CPO) getting his going home tan and falling asleep on the lawn, with his testicles hanging out, don't think his wife was to happy when he got to Japan (where she was) and couldn't get it on.

     Remember, being drunk and swimming in shark cove, while my buddy took pictures of two sharks swimming circles around me while I floated on my back, then hollered after he took the pictures, I learned how to walk on water that day.

     Well this is a long story, and there is so much more, I don't think the fond memories of Diego Garcia will ever fade away.  Except, does anyone know how this other Chief and Myself got back to our quarters from that French ship, each of us waking up with a big bottle of Pernod in our arms in bed.  Last thing I remember was telling the ships Captain that they should not be leaving to spend another day. The biggest question is how did we get from the top deck down to a liberty boat.  Anybody know please let me know.

     Thanks Diego Garcia for the special memories, the most fantastic experience, and the opportunity to do something that only a select few of this world will ever get to do.  To walk upon history.

78-79---81

J. J. SCHAEFER <jjschaefer125k@aol.com>

SERVICE = SEABEE; UNIT = 78-78 NAVSUPFAC---81 MCB1; RANK/RATE/JOB = EO1 RET.

MY WARSTORY = BRAIN DAMAGE

May 1978 - Jan 1981

DEAN GERBER <dgerber@chorus.net>

What is Your Quest?  Friday's 3:30 and riding my Harley

SW Pier Construction Team, 3 six month deployment's from May78/Jan81.  Now a wastewater Treatment Plant operator in southern Wisconsin.  Still looking for people that were on the Pier Team.

1978, 79, 83, 85

DANIEL KELL <dan.kell@attws.com>

I was in the US Navy from 74 till 88. I made several trips to dodge.  First two were in 78 and 79. You basically lived in a tent if you were transient aircrew.  (See the rest of his story in 1983.)

Daniel Kell

Unix Administrator

Wireless Network Control Center

AT&T Wireless Services

e-mail:dan.kell@attws.com

Made 2 visits to DG in late 1978

ELISSA WELLIKSON <tshroyer@nanospace.com>

LT, JAGC, USNR when I was in DG.  Left the Navy as a LCDR.

Interest in DG:  Want to Return When the First REAL Club Med Opens

Title:  This is a No-Shitter

    I was probably one of the first military women to visit DG.  I was stationed at the NLSO in Subic.  In late 1978 instead of sending wayward sailors to Subic for court martial they would fly in a team of a defense attorney, a prosecutor, a judge and a court reporter.  (This was probably to avoid people getting into trouble to get off the island.)  I was trying to get to Thailand on leave and the plane was to stop there on the way back from DG, so I volunteered to go as defense counsel.

     They put me up in the Quiet Room in the Hospital on myfirst visit, because it was the only building with a 24 hour watch.  My quarters shared head facilities with the doc's office and there was a light switch on either side of the shower room.  The doc thought it was funny to turn off the light every time I took a shower.  After the second day I didn't turn the light on so when he flicked the switch to turn it off I had light.

     I ran to keep in shape in those days and I didn't see any reason to break my routine when on the island.  So the first day I went out for a run.  Well, I guess the word of my arrival hadn't gotten out to all of the troops.  I was just jogging along when a bus load of SeaBees went by.  The driver got distracted and went off the side of the road.  After that they told me not to run alone.

     Being the only woman among all those men, I got a lot of attention.  I got a tour of the plantation and have photos of me giving Francine the donkey a beer.  She sure could swill it down.  We went out to the old pilings and to check out the PBY.  One night we went to catch coconut crabs.  Found a nice one and realized we didn't have a bag to put him

in.  So one of the guys used his belt to secure the claw and hitched the belt around the crab's body.  We threw him in the back of the truck and headed back downtown.  Well, it didn't take long for that crab to get out of that belt and work his way from the back of the truck into the cab.  You never saw people disembark so fast.

     No one believes me when I tell them about the ferile chickens roosting in the trees at colors.  Guess you had to be there.

     Well we finished up the trial work as fast as we could so we could make the plane stopping in Thailand.  Unfortunately there was bad weather over the Malaccan Straits, so we were stuck on DG.  With all the legal work done, we had a chance to go fishing.  We went out on a barge for a day.  We caught grouper and shark.  We tried to cut the sharks head off with the hatchet on board, but it was so dull we used it to bludgen the poor fish to death.  Someone taught me to filet the grouper.  He had been on the deck for about half an hour, but it was so humid it must have seemed to him he was still swimming, and he took offense when I made the first cut.  He hit me in the head with his tail and bared he really big teeth.  But he made great sashimi.  When I got on board the guys gave me a poncho to use as a "portable women's potty", but I couldn't do it.  So after 7 hours of fishing and drinking beer you can bet I was the first off the barge when we landed.  When I emerged from the head I got a round of applause from my fellow fishermen.

     By the time the weather cleared the plane took us directly back to Subic.  I never did get to Thailand.  But I had to come back to complete the trial of one of my clients a few months later.  By then I  was old hat on the island and they let me stay in the officers quarters.

     I've been drinking off these stories for the last 20 years.  I really enjoyed the other stories on the website.  Thanks.

     (The title was supplied by my husband.  He claims he was a fleet sailor, but he was never on DG.)

1978 (3 six month deployments through 1981).

DEAN GERBER  <dgerber@chorus.net>

     SW Pier Construction Team, 3 six month deployment's from May78/Jan81.  Now a wastewater Treatment Plant operator in southern Wisconsin. Still looking for people that were on the Pier Team.

1978-1979, 1991-1992, 1997-2001

WARREN E. CARTER <warren_carter@pacific.net.sg>  See his website:  http://www.warrenssingapore.com

        Why am i here again?  A fighting seabee who was here to build this place. back when the navy was  still in the P.I.

Here's his story of this year, sent Aug 2000:  Time to deploy:  Diego Garcia, advance party, 36-hour flight on a C-141.  It was September of 1978 when I made my first deployment. That first time leaving the wife was really hard.  I had been married for over a year by now and times were going good for Teresa and me.  She took it a lot harder than I did but I guess that was to be expected. We spent to day together trying to get the most out of each minute we had left.  When it was time to get on the bus that left the base for Point Magu Naval Air Station, which was just down the road a bit from the base of Port Hueneme, and she didn't want to let go.  That was hard.  It had been a long time since I felt like I did that day.  I knew I would be back, yet at the same time I worried that maybe I wouldn't be.  The thought of not seeing her again made me think of all the things I should of said but didn't. But it was time to go so I boarded the bus and off we went.

      On the way over to Diego Garcia we stopped in Hawaii, Guam, PI and then Singapore.  The last stop was the rock.  At each place we had a short lay over maybe 1 or 2 hours only.  One thing about the Air Force's C-141 is this: you sit backwards in small seats, no windows and there is a draft that will freeze you legs as it blows across the desk of the

plane.  So here I sit with no movie or music, eating box lunches which was like the Highlight of the flights.  A box lunch is a meal that was made 6 to 12 hours before you eat it.  The meal had a sandwich or 2 some fruit, juice or milk, chips or cookies.  If you had to wait a long time for your lunch the bologna would start to change color.  Gray on the out side and pink in the middle.  One the way over we had 3 flights moving the battalion. this was nothing new due to the size of the battalion at that time. We where manned at about 900 men. The second flight while heading into in Cubi Point in the

Philippines lost cabin pressure then had a engine flame up while landing. Gee I guess that was a fun flight to be on?

Living on the rock:  As soon as you get off the plane on Diego Garcia you knew you where in hell. The heat was enough to knock you to the ground at first.  Then you had the humidity to deal with, that feeling that you are trying to breath thou a wet towel.  We were taken to a building for customs inspection.  So here it is about 100 degrees we are in a tin building standing in a line that doesn't seam to be moving, sweat is pouring out of your body and it just plain sucks.  After that we are loaded on to buses and taken down town (the main camp).  This is where every thing was at, the galley, ship store, admin, sea-huts, mobile trailer and yes the club. Every thing you needed in about a quarter square mile area.

       All the trailer in the Seabee camp, were made in to circles with the bath room located in the middle. My first hut was on the ocean side.  A 6-man Mobile trailer, these were the best to stay in. they had some room to move around in then. while the smaller trailer, well they sucked.   The other type of trailers where the 4-man size. These are what I move into when the main body arrived (8' high x 9' wide x 19' long).  The bad part of the 4 man trailers was that there was not a lot of room in them. After you got the 4 racks, lockers and table in there well you didn't have a lot of floor space. The final type were the Sea-huts. Each held about 20 guys and where made of plywood with screens for windows. No walls were build in them when first put up but if you could gather some up then you MIGHT be able to have some kind of privacy in your small space.

      My room mate where EO3 Thomas Harris, EOCN Rusty Mcfall, and EOCN David Kahn. Harris was the hut mom.  That meant that he was responsible.  He tried to keep us in line but was to quiet.  Mcfall, well he was a big time smoker (weed) and partier also the main cook in "a" circle.  This guy cooked out almost every day.  He had the major hook up in the galley.  Kahn, he was just a drunk while on the island.  He was from upper New York State and would stay up all night all with EOCN Carr talking about logging. Till either he passed out or the beer was gone.  Me I slept a lot just trying to pass the time.  My friend BU3 Ken Fritz who I meet during the homeport was from Phoenix AZ.  A Builder by rate,

and also a drinker.  Some times he would come by the hut and get me to go out to a party or cook out.  Most of the time I would give him a hard time cause I really didn't want to go but I would.  He gave me the nickname of tortes because I drank so slow.

      Work consisted of a 10-hour day for the most part, but it was not uncommon to put in a 18 or 20 hour day depending on you project and how well it was going.  We had both day and night crews on some projects and the tide haul crew.  Tide haul worked the tides.  Low-tide drilling blast holes and loading those holes plus pushing up the coral after the

blast.  So for them each day was different due to the tide.  The battalion worked 6 days one week then 5 the next.  That wasn't till we fell behind due to the rain then we worked 7 day a week for about 2 months to get caught up. One of the larges project that the battalion had been tasked with was completion of the main runway and turn-around at the end. All concert paving in 20 widths it would take the entire deployment to finish if all when well. To support the paving we had 35 5-ton dump truck in support of the slip form paver to haul the mix from the batch plant to the job site. We would start hauling at the crack of sunlight in the morning and would run continually until the paving had ended for that day. So if we were doing 1000 feet that day we would finish up about 1700. if it was a good paving job all was fine. If not

well it all had to be tore up with front-end loaders and dozers and hauled away so that be morning we could try it again. These didn't happen often but when it did, damn it really sucked!

      It was DEC 4, 79 when we got a weekend off.  A big party was planed for the F.O.G.'s (fucking old guys) who where leaving.  It was held in my circle and what a party it was. EO3 Jones made some killer Mo-Jo that was devastating to the body.  Mo-Jo was a mix of about 5 to 6 different alcohol's, fruit drink and fruits.  It tasted great till you when to get up then down you went.  That party went on way into the night.  It then moved over to Hut B-4.  Hut b-4 had a bar in it.  At first the guys in the room didn't charge for the drinks.  But due the amount of people that where going there they started a donation glass.  It had all the hard time parterre's living there from alpha company.  One night EOC Donahe passed out in the hut, I guess he was trying to show these young troops how to drink well that didn't happen.  So as the chief was passed out the cameras came out and he was not happy about that but what could he do?

     I know that the command wanted to break that room up but found it hard to do.  The guys were just to smart of the bullshit that the command tired to pull on them.  One day the word came down saying "bars were not aloud in the rooms, and all had to be removed".  So that night the bar was taken out and set in courtyard on top of the bar was placed a pair of boots.  Later that night for some strange reason the bar caught fire.  No one knows how but it did.  All the residents of B-4 were not home that night but they got blamed for it.

      If you wanted to make a call home you had to use the Mars Station.  Which was nothing more than a ham radio set.  The island was 14 hours ahead of California.  So calls had to be made between 10 PM and 6 am.  Some times you could though earlier but not often.  Some times it would sound clear as a bell others like you were talking though a mile long

echo chamber if you got though at all.  But it was the only link in a very lonely spot in the world for 9 months.  Letters took forever.  But when you got one it was better than Christmas.

Major events:  EO2 Ike and EOCN Dave Luchman.  It was just another night on the island everyone was just sitting around drunk and talking shit.  Nothing special, that's the way it was.  Blowing off stream, kicken back talking about everything and everyone.  This one night out side of EO2 Ikea's hut there was a small group of Alfa Company types drinking.  Lutchman was from Saudi Arabia and could party with the best of them.  Well as they were talking shit Ike calls Lutchman a "Camel jockey".  No big deal to him, or like or any one else in the group.  Well these two black guys that just happen to be walking by heard it and reported to the master-at-arms.  So Ike get put on report for it.  When the captains mass went down it was a dog an pony show.  Lutchman said that it was no big deal and that he didn't mind

because everyone was drunk and doing the same thing to each other.  But the command couldn't just let it go.  They had to do something.  So Ike got small fine and that was the end of that.  But after that you could tell that everyone was a lot more careful about what was said or at least who was around when you said it.

CO's Mass and the missing DOR file:  As company clerk I had a good run of the office both in Alfa Company and the admin office.  One of the guys in a company got put on report and the company was looking to burn him good due to all the things that had gathered in his D.O.R. File.  He was due to go on leave before the mass and asked me to get him file so he could pull some things out of it.  I told him I would, thinking he was just going to take a few things out and return it to me so I could put it back in the files.  So I got his record for him and he goes on leave without returning it to me.  He

was due to be gone for two weeks.  About 5 days later the Company Chief, EQCM Gerns, asked to see his record.  I told him that it had gone to admin because some one and called down for it and I didn't get the name of the caller.  So a few days go buy and the record has not turned up yet.  Admin doesn't have it we don't have it where is it?  The files are

kept locked and the company wants that record.  I keep my cool until he returns from leave then I use the guard mail to return the record the to "a" co.  When it gets there the record is damn near empty.  He pulled all kinds of stuff out.  So now the company knows that something is up but the blame got put on admin and not me and after all that is what

counts, isn't it?

Who hit me?  In most fights you know who hit you right?  Well not always, sometimes in the confusion things get lost as they did in this case.  All the huts had doors at either end, some where in the middle (4 man).  While other, were off set to one side (6 man).  This fight took place in  a 6-man hut.  The hut was set up with a party area at one end.  There was about 5 guy sitting around with one sleeping.  4 guys come up to the end of the hut over a  misunderstand that happen a few day before.  Words were passed and things started to heat up.  As on guy enters the hut he trips and pushes one guy hitting him in the head. The other get up and the fight starts.  It worked it way out side the hut most of it was just pushing and holding each other back.  The guy that was sleeping was the hut mom and came to the back door to see what the hell was going on.  As me stuck his head out of the back door some one clocked him a good one but no one saw it.  When the group got in front of the captain and the story was told no one could make head or tails out of it.  The C.O. told all of them that if he saw any one of them again for fighting he would give them the max that he could.  And that was that.

The blow up doll:  Dec. 4, 1979, the major party on the island for all the old guys that were due to transfer soon.  Tom Reilly EO3 comes out of his hut (B-4) with Annie.  He had put a tee shirt and shorts on her before he brought her out.  So here we are sitting around and tom comes walking up with her under his arm like a regular date.  He sat her down in a chair and the fun starts.  It was a trip.  Tom took her to the club one night and guys are buying her drinks. What the fuck?  Welcome to the rock.

The Postal Clerk on the beach is doing what?   Word got out that the PC3 got caught on the beach with two other guys.  Now it was not a crime to be on the beach but you can't be blowing a guy  while the other is banging your ass. It's not right, it's just policy!

My birthday:   Dec16, 1979.  I turn 21, just another day on the rock no big deal.  I go to bed about 7 PM just to pass the time quicker.  Ken Fritz comes by my room and says, "let's go to his hut and do some drinking for your birthday".  Well most of the time he would have to drag me out of my hut because I wasn't a drinker.  When I did drink I would drink one maybe 2 and be all fucked up.  But this night I get up and a way we go.  Ken breaks out a bottle of Crown Royal and we start in on it mixing it with coke.  About 11 PM I'm done, totally fucked up I go back to his rack to crash.  I have the bed spins and the whole nine yards.  Then that feeling that told me to get up and get out side quick.  Just as I hit the back door I am blowing chow hard.  I guess no one heard me going because when I went back in side I got in the top rack. Why?  I don't have a clue.  I remember ken coming back and looking to see if I was still there and saying that he guessed I left.  The next time I got up to puke I went home to my hut (A-10) when I got there all my stuff was missing.  The guys told me that I didn't live there and I was in the wrong hut.  So I go out side to check the door and as I look up I see my stuff on the roof, all my stuff including my bed.  I never remembered how I got the stuff down but the next morning I was in bed feeling like 5 miles of bad road.  It was a hot day like the rest so I went to get some water.  As I swallowed that first mouth full I puked it right back up.  For the whole day that was all I did.  After that first time it was

just dry heaves from then on.  Not a good day.

Leaving:   What can I say about the day I left the island.  D.G. is not one of those places you look forward to going to but one that you defiantly one you look forward to leaving.  You count the days till your departure like it's a jail term.  In some ways it is.  We did what we had to do to make it the best we could.  With no women on the island you could do all

the male bonding you wanted.  Our manner went out the window and well as many of our morals.  When you leave D.G. you have all kinds of plans on what your going to do to the first girl you get your hands on.  Hell you had at least months to plan it and now you had plenty of money to make it happen.  Some guys got off the plane in Singapore other in Subic Bay in the Philippines to live out those fantasies.

      D.G. was the place were all my night mares of the navy came true.  No women, bad food, shitty living conditions and the feeling of being totally a lone in the world.

      Was I glade to leave?  You bet you fucken ass I was.  When we saw the First 707 to the island coming in what a great feeling that was. We had finished the runway and turn-around in time and would be the first of many Battalions to leave the island on something other than C-141.

Leaving the rock:  The time came to go home.  It was like the end of a bad nightmare.  I made it on the advance party so I was with the first group to leave.  During the day the advance party were moved from place to place to avoid the others who still had to work.  After we got out of our huts we when thought customs, then into the galley and from there to the club.  While waiting in the club the C.O. came into tell us of an accident that had happen on the pier Det.  One of the guys had messed his hand up in the auger and had to be medavacted of the island and sent to Singapore right away.  The 707 that came to get us was on the deck and was being fueled.  They wanted to use our plane to fly him out.  Well that wasn't going to happen we told the c.o.  So the aircrew stopped fueling out plane and started to fuel a p-3.  P-3's were faster than a 707 anyway plus we wanted to get the hell out of there.

     The plane was the first 707 to land on the island due to the run-way bring to short before but since we had finished it now there was enough room.  We took off 6 hours late and headed for Singapore.  When we got there it was fogged in so we flew in circles for a while then headed for Thailand.  We landed at a air force base near Bangkok and sat around for 3 hours then loaded back up and flew to Singapore.  Four hours later, 2 hours late we depart heading for Cubie point in the Philippines.  Some guys got of there for leave I guess they couldn't wait to get to the states to get laid plus if it was anything like the stories I heard it was a good place to start leave after being on the rock for 8 months.  Again we were late taking off by about an hour.  By this time we were around 10 hours behind our arrive in the states.  I knew this must have been driving Teresa crazy.  The next stop was Yokota A.F.B. Japan.  We made it in and out on time and headed for Anchorage Alaska.  It was here I called home to tell Teresa what was going on and that I was on my last

leg home.

     When we landed in Point Magu N.A.S. It was the best feeling in the world.  As I walked of the plane and headed for the terminal I saw Teresa. She was the best thing I had seen in a long time.  I never remember being held so tight as when she first held me.  Coming home, there are no words that can describe that feeling of joy and love I had on that day.

By: EOC Warren E. Carter

Date: 7 Jun 00

1978-1979

SAMUEL E. STUART  <SasiSisi@aol.com>

 Fellow campers at camp BIOT:   Was stationed on Diego Jull22, 1978 to Juily 12, 1979, Was attached to  Public Works, Main Power Plant. One of only 10 Fleet sailers mixed in with Seabees from Battalions, 4 and 5.