Special Moments in the Corps
by Sgt. A.F. Dreves, C-1-1, Pacific Theater, WWII
Early Jan. 1942, I enlisted in New York. Took the longest dirtiest 10-day train ride from Grand Central Station NY to MCRD San Diego. This was on a steam-powered locomotive train with no heat , very few bunks -- very, very limited head facilities and lousy American cheese sandwiches. We traveled all over the country picking up recruits and what started out as maybe a four-car train ended up as probable 20 or 30 car train. The high light of this trip was stopping in towns where the Red Cross ladies or other organizations came up to us with donuts and coffee. We were not allowed to get off the train and so this was a real treat. Does any one remember riding in one of those Pullman Cars where the "head" was smaller than a broom closet with a wash bowl slightly larger than a soup bowl. After the first few days I started to ask myself, "what the hell did you get yourself into?"
When we reached our destination in San Diego we were the dirtiest bunch of recruits ever to assemble there. No wonder they let us off in a freight yard and trucked us into the Depot in covered 6 x 6s. The rest of that story is boot camp history. Graduated with Platoon 17 in February of 1942. On the day of our first liberty into San Diego our DI told us that if any of us came back with a tattoo we would have to go through 6 more weeks of boot camp. I think we all returned clean. We were assigned to Casual Company awaiting further orders. About that time the 1st Raider Battalion arrived from the East Coast. They were quartered in a nearby Quonset hut area and we watched them go through their daily routines with interest [and we thought boot camp was tough!].
One day the word was passed out that the Raiders were looking for some volunteer replacements. Being very gung-ho at that time, guess who stuck up his hand. I was picked and went through a physical exam, and put in a squad to replace a Marine who came down sick. No sick, lame or lazy were allowed in the Battalion. My issued piece of silent weaponry was a razor sharp, triangulated strip of wire with taped handles at either end.The purpose: come up behind the enemy put your knee in his back. flip the wire over his head around the neck and pull back and forth. The result was obvious if applied correctly.
After about a week of training we were told that we were to load our ship. One day we went dockside on a rare rainy day and proceeded to load ammo and supplies into cargo nets. There was a warehouse on the dock and the supplies were inside. I picked up a case of '45 caliber ammo hoisted on my shoulder and started out the big open door. There was a metal plate at the door entrance which was wet from the rain, as I stepped on it my foot slipped and down I went. The ammo box landing on my right foot. I struggled up and continued my mission. On our way back to the Base my foot began to kill me. When we jumped off the truck I went down in a heap.
The Gunny saw me and asked what that was all about I said something about tripping and he said "yeah? Do a little double time in place." Needless to say that was impossible. Then the whole story came out. Off to sick bay. Badly bruised foot, maybe a small fracture. Taped up and returned to duty. Dropped out of the Raiders as unfit for duty and sent back to the Casual Co. That ended my short career In the 1st Marine Raider Battalion under the command of Col. Edson.
A couple of weeks later we fell out for muster and I think about 8 names were called off, mine included, for transfer to a duty station. We gathered up our gear and boarded a truck. Some one asked the Sgt. in charge where we going and he said Imperial Beach! Man did that sound ominous, very…Japanese. Couldn't have been more wrong!
Imperial Beach lies about 15 or 20 miles south of San Diego. North Island Naval Air Station, a small community with a Naval Radio Station and a degaussing station, sits right on a beautiful beach. Sixteen Marines doing guard duty and 32 sailors running the equipment. A nice barracks 100 yards from the high tide line.
There was a super Navy Chief cook there, a mess hall open 24 hrs a day. $16 dollars a month subsistence. Which we had to give to the cook. He went to the Naval Commissary once a week for supplies and food. We ate well and had to help with cooking once a month I really enjoyed that detail and learned a lot about cooking. Really tough duty, lying on the beach and having the local ladies come down to chat with you. We had a guard dog for night patrol (a German Shepherd -- by the name of Heide), but in the daytime I'd take her to the beach with me. She was a great attention getter.
A few months later I was transferred to the Naval Ammunition Depot on Point Loma. Good duty but not as nice as Imperial Beach. Nothing exciting there except that one rainy day (I believe a Sunday Morning) I was riding guard duty on a truck delivering 6 torpedo warheads to the submarine base. These heads were in a stake truck and tied together with a heavy rope. The sailor driving was a "hot dog" and he didn't slow down for anything. Going through downtown San Diego he made a sharp turn and the load shifted snapping the rope. With one loud clang 6 torpedo war heads were rolling down the street. I'm running around like crazy, trying to secure the area. Fortunately, nothing went "bang" and eventually a bomb truck came and picked them all up. Don't know what happened to the sailor.
A few months later I was transferred to MCAS El Toro. That was the most interesting tour of my stateside duty. Here I became a real "Hollywood Marine". Duty consisted of Main Gate security and crash crew security. El Toro is situated a few miles West of the Santa Ana mountains on a flat terrain. Marine Corps aircraft consisted mostly of SBD's [Dive Bombers] F4F's, F6F's and later the famous F4U.
There was much night flying and the runways ran East and West. Planes would take off some times heading West toward the mountains, and occasionally one did not get enough altitude to clear them. When one went down it was the crash crew's job to get to the crash site ASAP and secure the area. If the pilot survived we naturally rendered aid.
We had a specially equipped Jeep with extra jerry cans and large fire extinguishers. We were given map coordinates as to where the possible crash site was and we were on our way.
Most crash sites could be reached in an hour or so. On two occasions the site was so remote that it took us hours to get there. On those trips we were supplied with sandwiches and a big thermos of coffee. We spent 2 days keeping the site secure before the crash recovery crew got there. That was the sad part of that duty.
Now for the good part. Bing Crosby was a frequent visitor to the base. He knew a Major Turner, and visited him about once a week. I always seemed to be standing Gate watch when he arrived in his convertible. He was most pleasant, always said "Good Morning Corporal" and answered all questions and produced all proper ID. One day our Captain said he needed a couple of Marines to attend a movie opening in Hollywood. That was all that was said -- so I volunteered. I was told to be ready at a certain hour and to stand by to be picked up and taken to the movie. We were driven into town to the Grauman's Chinese Theater to see the premier of Guadalcanal Diary. The best part was that they didn't tell me that I was to escort actress Jean Crane into the theater and sit with her for the whole show. My buddy escorted some other movie star, whose name I don't recall.
It was a great night that I will never forget. After the show we all politely said good night and were taken back to the base. Jean was very nice, and wished me lots of luck. Needless to say, when the guys in the detachment heard about this, they thought I was blowing smoke. But that's the way it went.
One more incident while at El Toro, My buddy who went with me to the "Canal" premiere had a sister in Hollywood who was married to a guy who owned a dry cleaning business that catered to a lot of movie people. To make a long story short they were invited to a wedding in Beverly Hills. A sister of Alan Mowbray's (the British actor) was getting married and they were invited to the wedding. They told Alan that her brother and his friend were coming up for the weekend from El Toro and that they were sorry that they couldn't attend because they were entertaining a couple of Marines . He said bring them along and they'll have a good time.
We went to the church and took our seats, waiting for the wedding to start. A man came into our pew and sat down beside me. I slowly turned my head to see who it was and there looking at me and smiling was another famous actor -- Charles Boyer! The Beverly Hills home of Mowbray was breathtaking. The place was buzzing with movie stars and the food was unbelievable. Danced and drank the whole evening. Stayed over night and was taken back to the base the next day with a hell of a hangover. Talk about a great tour of duty! This Marine Corps thing wasn't so bad after all.
This all came to an abrupt end about a month later with a transfer to Camp Pendleton. My Hollywood days were over. Arrived Camp Pendleton, went through advanced infantry training and shipped out as a replacement for the 1st Marine Div. Arrived Pavuvu in the Russell Islands, and was assigned to C Company, 1st Battalion, 1st Marines. A little rest for the guys coming back from Cape Gloucester.
Then more training for Pelileu. The less said about that operation, the better. Read "From Pelileu to Okinawa" by Eugene Sledge; that says it all. Our company CO, Capt. Everett Pope, was awarded the MOH for a deadly battle on a hill that claimed 24 of 32 Marines; I was a lucky one. After that campaign, back to Pavuvu. Same routine, more training and then off to Okinawa!
There are many small instances I recall, but the one that sticks out in my mind is the morning after D-day, 1 April 1944, when I was awakened by my fox-hole buddy. I carefully peered over the edge of our hole and came face to face with a cute white rabbit -- a leftover from Easter Sunday.
For more tales from Okinawa, read my "Chicken Roast" story, about an attempt to cook a chicken while we were taking Okinawa. After that campaign the Division went to North China, which is another whole story in itself.
One side note -- we had a Sgt. in our detachment by the name of Otto Lindemann. He is an icon in the Corps, along with Marines like Lou Diamond. He really took a liking to me and when I was going to be transferred he gave me his set of Blues. I still have them and cherish them deeply. On the inside sleeve his name is stenciled with the words "issued from Marine Corps Depot, Albany Georgia 1935". Talk about heavy wool clothing - I'll bet that set weighs 10 pounds! Great cold weather gear.
I hope you find some humor in these tales, and that maybe they will trigger some fond memories for you, too!
Early Jan. 1942, I enlisted in New York. Took the longest dirtiest 10-day train ride from Grand Central Station NY to MCRD San Diego. This was on a steam-powered locomotive train with no heat , very few bunks -- very, very limited head facilities and lousy American cheese sandwiches. We traveled all over the country picking up recruits and what started out as maybe a four-car train ended up as probable 20 or 30 car train. The high light of this trip was stopping in towns where the Red Cross ladies or other organizations came up to us with donuts and coffee. We were not allowed to get off the train and so this was a real treat. Does any one remember riding in one of those Pullman Cars where the "head" was smaller than a broom closet with a wash bowl slightly larger than a soup bowl. After the first few days I started to ask myself, "what the hell did you get yourself into?"
When we reached our destination in San Diego we were the dirtiest bunch of recruits ever to assemble there. No wonder they let us off in a freight yard and trucked us into the Depot in covered 6 x 6s. The rest of that story is boot camp history. Graduated with Platoon 17 in February of 1942. On the day of our first liberty into San Diego our DI told us that if any of us came back with a tattoo we would have to go through 6 more weeks of boot camp. I think we all returned clean. We were assigned to Casual Company awaiting further orders. About that time the 1st Raider Battalion arrived from the East Coast. They were quartered in a nearby Quonset hut area and we watched them go through their daily routines with interest [and we thought boot camp was tough!].
One day the word was passed out that the Raiders were looking for some volunteer replacements. Being very gung-ho at that time, guess who stuck up his hand. I was picked and went through a physical exam, and put in a squad to replace a Marine who came down sick. No sick, lame or lazy were allowed in the Battalion. My issued piece of silent weaponry was a razor sharp, triangulated strip of wire with taped handles at either end.The purpose: come up behind the enemy put your knee in his back. flip the wire over his head around the neck and pull back and forth. The result was obvious if applied correctly.
After about a week of training we were told that we were to load our ship. One day we went dockside on a rare rainy day and proceeded to load ammo and supplies into cargo nets. There was a warehouse on the dock and the supplies were inside. I picked up a case of '45 caliber ammo hoisted on my shoulder and started out the big open door. There was a metal plate at the door entrance which was wet from the rain, as I stepped on it my foot slipped and down I went. The ammo box landing on my right foot. I struggled up and continued my mission. On our way back to the Base my foot began to kill me. When we jumped off the truck I went down in a heap.
The Gunny saw me and asked what that was all about I said something about tripping and he said "yeah? Do a little double time in place." Needless to say that was impossible. Then the whole story came out. Off to sick bay. Badly bruised foot, maybe a small fracture. Taped up and returned to duty. Dropped out of the Raiders as unfit for duty and sent back to the Casual Co. That ended my short career In the 1st Marine Raider Battalion under the command of Col. Edson.
A couple of weeks later we fell out for muster and I think about 8 names were called off, mine included, for transfer to a duty station. We gathered up our gear and boarded a truck. Some one asked the Sgt. in charge where we going and he said Imperial Beach! Man did that sound ominous, very…Japanese. Couldn't have been more wrong!
Imperial Beach lies about 15 or 20 miles south of San Diego. North Island Naval Air Station, a small community with a Naval Radio Station and a degaussing station, sits right on a beautiful beach. Sixteen Marines doing guard duty and 32 sailors running the equipment. A nice barracks 100 yards from the high tide line.
There was a super Navy Chief cook there, a mess hall open 24 hrs a day. $16 dollars a month subsistence. Which we had to give to the cook. He went to the Naval Commissary once a week for supplies and food. We ate well and had to help with cooking once a month I really enjoyed that detail and learned a lot about cooking. Really tough duty, lying on the beach and having the local ladies come down to chat with you. We had a guard dog for night patrol (a German Shepherd -- by the name of Heide), but in the daytime I'd take her to the beach with me. She was a great attention getter.
A few months later I was transferred to the Naval Ammunition Depot on Point Loma. Good duty but not as nice as Imperial Beach. Nothing exciting there except that one rainy day (I believe a Sunday Morning) I was riding guard duty on a truck delivering 6 torpedo warheads to the submarine base. These heads were in a stake truck and tied together with a heavy rope. The sailor driving was a "hot dog" and he didn't slow down for anything. Going through downtown San Diego he made a sharp turn and the load shifted snapping the rope. With one loud clang 6 torpedo war heads were rolling down the street. I'm running around like crazy, trying to secure the area. Fortunately, nothing went "bang" and eventually a bomb truck came and picked them all up. Don't know what happened to the sailor.
A few months later I was transferred to MCAS El Toro. That was the most interesting tour of my stateside duty. Here I became a real "Hollywood Marine". Duty consisted of Main Gate security and crash crew security. El Toro is situated a few miles West of the Santa Ana mountains on a flat terrain. Marine Corps aircraft consisted mostly of SBD's [Dive Bombers] F4F's, F6F's and later the famous F4U.
There was much night flying and the runways ran East and West. Planes would take off some times heading West toward the mountains, and occasionally one did not get enough altitude to clear them. When one went down it was the crash crew's job to get to the crash site ASAP and secure the area. If the pilot survived we naturally rendered aid.
We had a specially equipped Jeep with extra jerry cans and large fire extinguishers. We were given map coordinates as to where the possible crash site was and we were on our way.
Most crash sites could be reached in an hour or so. On two occasions the site was so remote that it took us hours to get there. On those trips we were supplied with sandwiches and a big thermos of coffee. We spent 2 days keeping the site secure before the crash recovery crew got there. That was the sad part of that duty.
Now for the good part. Bing Crosby was a frequent visitor to the base. He knew a Major Turner, and visited him about once a week. I always seemed to be standing Gate watch when he arrived in his convertible. He was most pleasant, always said "Good Morning Corporal" and answered all questions and produced all proper ID. One day our Captain said he needed a couple of Marines to attend a movie opening in Hollywood. That was all that was said -- so I volunteered. I was told to be ready at a certain hour and to stand by to be picked up and taken to the movie. We were driven into town to the Grauman's Chinese Theater to see the premier of Guadalcanal Diary. The best part was that they didn't tell me that I was to escort actress Jean Crane into the theater and sit with her for the whole show. My buddy escorted some other movie star, whose name I don't recall.
It was a great night that I will never forget. After the show we all politely said good night and were taken back to the base. Jean was very nice, and wished me lots of luck. Needless to say, when the guys in the detachment heard about this, they thought I was blowing smoke. But that's the way it went.
One more incident while at El Toro, My buddy who went with me to the "Canal" premiere had a sister in Hollywood who was married to a guy who owned a dry cleaning business that catered to a lot of movie people. To make a long story short they were invited to a wedding in Beverly Hills. A sister of Alan Mowbray's (the British actor) was getting married and they were invited to the wedding. They told Alan that her brother and his friend were coming up for the weekend from El Toro and that they were sorry that they couldn't attend because they were entertaining a couple of Marines . He said bring them along and they'll have a good time.
We went to the church and took our seats, waiting for the wedding to start. A man came into our pew and sat down beside me. I slowly turned my head to see who it was and there looking at me and smiling was another famous actor -- Charles Boyer! The Beverly Hills home of Mowbray was breathtaking. The place was buzzing with movie stars and the food was unbelievable. Danced and drank the whole evening. Stayed over night and was taken back to the base the next day with a hell of a hangover. Talk about a great tour of duty! This Marine Corps thing wasn't so bad after all.
This all came to an abrupt end about a month later with a transfer to Camp Pendleton. My Hollywood days were over. Arrived Camp Pendleton, went through advanced infantry training and shipped out as a replacement for the 1st Marine Div. Arrived Pavuvu in the Russell Islands, and was assigned to C Company, 1st Battalion, 1st Marines. A little rest for the guys coming back from Cape Gloucester.
Then more training for Pelileu. The less said about that operation, the better. Read "From Pelileu to Okinawa" by Eugene Sledge; that says it all. Our company CO, Capt. Everett Pope, was awarded the MOH for a deadly battle on a hill that claimed 24 of 32 Marines; I was a lucky one. After that campaign, back to Pavuvu. Same routine, more training and then off to Okinawa!
There are many small instances I recall, but the one that sticks out in my mind is the morning after D-day, 1 April 1944, when I was awakened by my fox-hole buddy. I carefully peered over the edge of our hole and came face to face with a cute white rabbit -- a leftover from Easter Sunday.
For more tales from Okinawa, read my "Chicken Roast" story, about an attempt to cook a chicken while we were taking Okinawa. After that campaign the Division went to North China, which is another whole story in itself.
One side note -- we had a Sgt. in our detachment by the name of Otto Lindemann. He is an icon in the Corps, along with Marines like Lou Diamond. He really took a liking to me and when I was going to be transferred he gave me his set of Blues. I still have them and cherish them deeply. On the inside sleeve his name is stenciled with the words "issued from Marine Corps Depot, Albany Georgia 1935". Talk about heavy wool clothing - I'll bet that set weighs 10 pounds! Great cold weather gear.
I hope you find some humor in these tales, and that maybe they will trigger some fond memories for you, too!
