MOS school was only a month long, and then we were sent out into the Fleet. We learned how to read maps, all about the Intelligence Cycle, the different intelligence assets available to the Marine Corps, and some rudimentary admin skills. We had a Command Post Exercise (CPX) at the end of the school, where we had to gather intelligence, sort it out, task various intelligence assets, prepare intelligence summaries, and give intelligence briefs to the commander.
I made friends with a couple guys, but Larry Dickey became my closest friend. He was from Washington state and already 22. Some things had happened in his life, and he wanted a change, so he joined the Corps. He later went on to become an officer, and left the Marine Corps as a Captain, and a helicopter pilot. We studied together, went out in town together, and after MOS school we were both assigned to MAG-39 at Camp Pendleton, so we traveled to California together. We both got airline tickets to Wisconsin, and spent a couple days with my family. Mom and Dad liked Larry a lot. We packed my Mustang II up with all our gear, and headed out to California. We knew there was bad weather between Wisconsin and there, so we tried to go south and skirt around it. We ran into a blizzard in Kansas. We were creeping along with all the other traffic. The interstate was very slippery, and it was very nerve-wracking. At one point another Mustang came flying by, way too fast for conditions. There was an edge in the snow where the shoulder was, which you could just barely see. I saw him edge over, and just as I said, "He's going to get sucked in if he doesn't edge over.", whumph!, he high-centered in the median with a huge spray of snow. Served him right.
The weather was just too bad for traveling, so we pulled over in Emporia, Kansas and got a room for the night. The snow stopped during the night and it got really cold. Larry went out in the morning to warm the car up, and it turned over a couple times and then made a "weird grinding noise", as Larry put it, and refused to start. We had a mechanic pull it over to his shop, and the engine block had cracked. I wound up selling the car for $75, and had to pay $45 for the tow. I was not happy. My Mustang was my first car, and I loved it dearly. I've had two more since then, and they were great.
Larry and I rode a Greyhound bus to Tulsa, OK. We sent most of our baggage on with Greyhound to Oceanside, CA, and we got plane tickets to Las Vegas. e spent a couple days in Vegas. I watched Larry gamble, as I wasn't old enough, and we watched a show. The man at the door asked us if we were Marines, and when we said yes, he took us right down to the very front and seated us in front of the stage. We had to look up to see the show. It was a blast, and a couple of the showgirls smiled and winked at me. Larry bought a Kawasaki 550cc "Specter" motorcycle. As it was brand new, he didn't want to drive it on the interstate, as the instructions said not to drive it over 50 for the first 400 miles. So, we drove over the mountains to Indio and the back roads in to Oceanside. Bad idea. It was February, after all, and it was cold up on the mountain. We were driving through sleet and snow up on top. We stopped at a cafe on top, and we were both so cold we could barely move when we got off the bike.
The rest of the drive wasn't bad, once we got over the mountains. California had been having some severe weather just before we got there, but it was all over by the time we arrived. I guess about 2/3 of the Oceanside Pier was swept away during the storms. Everybody told us that it used to extend a lot farther out into the ocean. We found the Greyhound station right outside Camp Pendleton's Main Gate. We changed into our Alphas, and a taxi driver took me and our stuff to MAG-39, and Larry followed the taxi on his bike. We reported in and were told to go to the Headquarters and Maintenance (H&MS) barracks right behind Group Headquarters for the night, and we would be assigned to a unit in the morning. We were issued pillows and linen, and somebody promptly stole my blanket when I left my rack for a minute. Most of the guys in that particular barracks were "problem children". It was an open squadbay, and had no amenities. One of the guys took pity on me and got my blanket back from whoever stole it.
The next morning we turned our linen back in, and reported to the MAG-39 S-2 (Intelligence) Office. Larry got orders to Marine Helicopter Training Squadron (HMT) 303, and I was assigned to Marine Attack Helicopter Squadron (HMA-369). "Light" was added to the Squadron's title a few years later, to become HMLA-369, but at that time it was just HMA-369. They flew Bell UH-1N "Huey" and AH-1J "Cobra" helicopters. It's hard to believe they are the same airframe, but deep down, they are the same aircraft. HMA-369 had a number of milestones while I served with them. We were the first first helicopter squadron of any service to participate in the U.S. Air Force Red Flag aviation combat exercise at Nellis Air Force base, and we flew Vice President George Bush into China from Hong Kong. This was the first time a tactical Marine squadron had penetrated communist China's airspace since 1949. The squadron also reached 20,000 accident-free flight hours, and was awarded the Fleet Marine Force's Pacific Annual Aviation Safety Award for 1985. Larry and I hung out together a lot. He bought a laser disc player, adn we would sit at his barracks and watch "Tron" and Walt Disney's "Coyote's Lament". He loved that movie. I bought his bike after a month or so, not one of the smartest things I ever did. It does rain and gets a bit chilly, even in Southern California, and a small bike is no place to be out on I-5. But, I was young and every young man needs to own a bike, I suppose. Unfortunately, the bike didn't seem to like me. It kept breaking ,and I spent hundreds of dollars trying to keep it running. Anybody else could drive it fine, but if I got on it, it invariably blew a fuze or fried something. Maybe it was mad at me. The first morning after I bought it, I went out and started it up. Apparently, I started it in first gear, so when I let go of the clutch, it took off without me down the sidewalk. I had to run up alongside it and knock it over, which made me feel pretty stupid. I also failed to negotiate a 90 degree turn right by the barracks one day, so I suppose it was just getting even with me. One of the first things I had to do was take a Defensive Driving course onbase, and a Motorcycle Skills school. That was actually a very good thing. The school was very good, and I learned a lot.
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this page was last edited on: 10/25/07