I had meticulously planned my trip for this year’s journey to the USA. I had already made my Airline reservations and hotel reservations for my first stop on this annual sojourn of mine. As the departure time was growing closer, I was really becoming excited. I would be seeing some of my shipmates who I hadn’t seen in over a year, while some I had not seen in several years.

The reunions are always great in that we all gather around the bar or large round table and talk about the “old days”. There are so many stories bantered about. Most of them we’ve all heard, and well, the stories seem to become a bit more embellished every year. However, there are never any complaints, never any bad words spoken or derogatory remarks against the person telling the story. It is his story and everyone’s story. What a remarkable group of people who can get together once a year and it’s as if the person had just told that story for the first time in his life.

I will indeed miss the adventure. This year will have been my eleventh year of shared camaraderie, friendship, and the general atmosphere that Sailors all love. We are all there for each other to re-establish that unique bond that we have all come to cherish so much.

The final day of this frivolity, laughter, and light heartedness sees us gather around and pay tribute to our former shipmates who are no longer with us. It is a melancholy and sobering time. We will stand, gathered to toast those heroes who have gone before us. A tot of rum in hand for some. Many of the tough old guard will fight back the salty mist that gathers in their eyes. I know this to be true as I have been in that situation in years past.

The next morning will see me boarding a flight for the West Coast on my way back to my home in Japan. I always stop in Los Angeles at one of the beach towns just south of the metropolis. Huntington Beach, the original surf City is a nice little beach town with a terrific atmosphere. My daughter and her husband live there and I look forward to my visit with much eagerness. I know that we will squeeze in a professional baseball game or two while I am there. We always manage to visit some of the cozy restaurants available and partake of the wonderful food available in the town.

The watering holes are just as amazing as the restaurants. Quaint little wine bars are sandwiched between sushi bars and open-air Mexican restaurants. The raucous sports bars and laid-back beach front bars are a wonderful place to relax and just plain have fun.

However, disappointment has managed to break this magical spell that had captured my spirit. With great regret I have to cancel the trip this year. I awoke one morning recently at 0400 with this uncanny feeling of dread. A premonition so to speak. Unsure who or what was waking me up and telling me not to travel. I have often had premonitions and learned to follow my instincts and plan accordingly.

I will not dwell on the uncertainty of these sudden feelings. Possibly a good omen or possibly not a good omen. One never knows what fate has in store for them in this life that we lead. I will hopefully be able to keep my feelings in perspective and continue to enjoy all that life has to offer, both the good and the bad.

I have begun my planning for my next sojourn across the Pacific to attend the annual Asia WestPac Sailor’s Association reunion. Hopefully the next several months go by quickly. I anxiously await this meeting of old retired Sailors.

He could hear the rockets from a distance. He could see the flashes of light off in the night sky. He was too busy swinging cargo to worry about the noise, the light, and the probable destruction and death that came with the powerful explosions. He had been at this station for the last 48 hours straight working his winches to hoist and swing the cargo over the side of the ship into the waiting LCU’s and LCM 6 boats that were taking this precious cargo to the beach.

His actions, thoughts, and mind slipped into automatic. John, his shipmates called him John “Easy”, was guiding his cargo with steady confidant hands. He was still a deck seaman, hoping to make Boatswain’s Mate Third Class…he had become very skilled at his tasks at hand. His training had been done in all seriousness. Although in his early training aboard this cargo vessel he thought to himself, “man this is so lame”. During John’s training, he would spend endless hours hoisting, swinging, and lowering dummy cargo over the side of the ship. Little did he realize that soon he would be swinging real cargo…small arms ammunition, howitzer shells, bombs, and all sorts of armament needed for a beach assault conducted on targets held by the Viet Cong.

 The Marines, who were engaged in the beach assault needed this resupply in order to continue their assault on the target. Red Beach One was once a Viet Cong stronghold but was now in the hands of the US Marines.

The continual swinging of cargo was becoming monotonous, however John knew he had to complete this tasking in order for the Marines embarked on his ship to make a successful beach landing. He took a quick swallow of stale coffee that had been brought up to the winch deck by one of his shipmates. As the hours dragged on, he realized he had been swinging cargo for almost 72 hours straight. His eyes blurred with loss of sleep and exhaustion but he kept hoisting, swinging, and lowering his cargo into the small craft alongside. Suddenly he heard a loud clang, the sound of metal against metal. He briefly looked down on his winch deck and noticed a one-quarter inch shackle that had not been there before. He looked down on the main deck and saw the First Lieutenant smiling at him and then yelling, “wake up John Easy”. “We are almost finished with this offload. When we are finished take a well-deserved break sailor”.  

Yes, the First Lieutenant tossed the shackle at BMSN John “Easy”,  but he took it in stride as he knew the Marine’s needed his cargo on the beach. He knew that today’s operation was extremely important to the ongoing operations that his ship was involved in and that a decisive victory was needed.

He then crawled down from his winch deck platform and grabbed some much needed sleep.