On Shoreleave in Alongapo

When I arrived In-Country, HMM 164 was stationed on the barren dunes of MCAS
Marble Mountain. We flew missions from south of Danang to the northern reaches of South Vietnam including Dong Ha and Khe Sanh.

During the late spring of 1967, we boarded an aircraft carrier with a straight wooden deck that was used in WWII and began flying missions off of the DMZ, but it was only for a short while.

As we assembled in the squadron Ready Room for the day's mission assignments one morning, our Commanding Officer, Lt. Col. McKitrick, I believe, surprised us with an announcement that in a few days we would be sailing to Subic Bay, the Navy's Pacific support base in the Phillippine Islands, where we would leave the ancient wooden-deck boat we were on to a brand new LPH, the USS Tripoli.

More significantly, however, while there, we would be able to go ashore and experience a few nights of "native" night-life.


Our destination was the huge Subic Bay Naval Air Station where much of the Navy's western Pacific forces went for resupply and repairs. Just outside the base, as there is with most all large U.S. bases in the far east, there was a "ville" where locals cater to the military's off-base "social" needs. This Ville was called Alongopo.

Alongapo was known by every sailor and marine who ever milled about the western Pacific as a place for ... well, shall we say ... rest, recuperation and just about any form of recreation one might have an appetite for.

It was on one of those nights that some friends and I were able to don some civvies and get off the ship for awhile to see what we could of the Philippines. Without a lot of effort, we soon found ourselves in Alongapo, a fine little coastal town of sounds, sights, and delights of the body, mind and soul. What I remember of that night was mostly having some beers, riding the ornately painted "jitney's" and running through driving rain showers in and out of bars where we found singers who could exactly imitate such western singers of the time such as the Beatles. I mean exactly. They were amazing. Equally as amazing, many of the singers could speak no english so their sounds were phonetic, studied, and wonderfully entertaining.

At some point a Filipino photographer approached our little group and offered, for a few bucks, to take our picture. Unrealized at the time, the photographer recorded a unique moment of our lives which would bring back many hilarious and not-so-hilarious memories each time I looked at the picture many years later.

Left to right in the picture are Emilio "Sonny" Vergara, Dan Stewart, Craig Waterman, and Dale Cors. Our "trou" were wet because of the rain. The water was over a foot deep in some places which required years of Marine Corps training to get from one beer to the next without getting completely soaked.

Dan was known for his susceptability to seasickness. He could take one step from the dock to the ship's deck and begin feeling queasy. He was a big guy with a big heart and as gentle as a kitten.

Craig always signed his name "H20" followed by the male symbol of a circle with arrow pointing from it. Craig was killed along with his crew and co-pilot Dave Fredrickson when their H-46 helicopter was hit by enemy fire and crashed somewhere north of Phu Bai.

Dale would eventually get the best job in Vietnam. He had his share of dangerous combat missions but ended up as the "O" Club Officer for MCAS Marble Mountain. A dangerous job that would subject him to the wrath of every Marine on the base if they weren't properly entertained or had enough beer. We never let him forget it!

After some 200 combat missions, I was later transferred to the 3rd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment as a Forward Air Controller, going on foot patrols with some of the bravest Marines I ever met and calling for air support whenever we were under fire and couldn't take care of the matter ourselves.