Probably the most humorous thing that took place for the
group while we were at Holtville was an outing of the squadron
officers and the spouses of the married officers. The whole group
journeyed to Mexicali, Mexico, just across the border from Calexico,
Ca., to take in a bull fight. After the Gringos witnessed a few
sessions with the bulls, they become bored and restless. To liven
things up the skipper volunteered to ride the bull while the
Matador stuck it. The skipper was so far gone on booze he could
hardly walk but he made it to the railing and promptly fell on
his face into the arena. The security guards pushed him back
in the stands. He bowed to applause of the Gringos but was the
subject of scorn by the Mexican fans. Never the less, during
the next event he was back, flat on his face again in the arena.
This time the security escorted him all the way out. At the end
of the festivities, the gang went looking for him and found him
outside the gates to where the dead bulls are dragged from the
arena. He was down on his hands and knees with a bunch of poor
Mexicans trying to cut a steak from a dead bull with his pocket
knife. His wife was furious. Conduct unbecoming an officer, well,
maybe so, but you would never convince the officers of that squadron
he was guilty of bad conduct. It was one of the most memorable
fun days we were to have. In fact, the skipper was probably the
best squadron commander in the Navy. He was a gentleman and a
truly compassionate man. Even when he had a little too much to
drink on too many occasions.
VC 93 Pilots of USS Petrof Bay |
Seems like everywhere you go there is always some guy who has
to shoo the females off like they were flies. Ninety nine percent
of the men have to work their butts off just to be even glanced
at. Then there was the Roy Kinnard type of guy. Roy was tall,
blonde, well built and good looking, who, when he entered a room
or bar all female eyes just gravitated to him and many of the
girls left their companions to make a play for him. He truly
did shoo them off. He would actually be bored and even annoyed
with them. Pissed most of the rest of us no end. Us ugly guys
were used to being ignored.
Another aspect of our training was the "Dilbert Dunker".
This was a contraption that was constructed to resemble the cockpit
of a plane. We were each required to strap ourselves in the seat,
the Dunker was lifted to about 10 feet high over the swimming
pool and dropped in the deep-end of the pool. Now you are under
water. You can't see any thing and you are expected to unhook
yourself and get out before you drown. There are instructors
there to make sure you don't drown. The object of this exercise
is to become familiar with a water landing and possibly save
someone from panicking in the event of the real thing. Little
would I know that I would have a first hand experience with the
real McCoy, not once but twice.
While at Holtville, the skipper would have trouble with one of
the enlisted men. A black steward's mate whom I had encountered
in North Bend. He was quite a pleasant, friendly guy at North
Bend. I would never have expected trouble with him. Wouldn't
you know his last name was Friend. His home was in Los Angeles
and as we passed through LA on our way to Holtville he jumped
the train. Was picked up by the shore patrol and given a reprimand.
A couple of weeks after arriving at Holtville, he decided that
he and the rest of the blacks were not going to be segregated
in the mess hall. They were challenged by the whites and a riot
ensued. Friend was court-marshaled and placed in the Marine brig
in El Central, Ca. The report was that the marine guards nearly
beat him to death. Too bad for "ole" Friend! He just
lived before his time!
VC 93 gunners and radiomen |
The squadron had been commissioned with 37 officers and 134 enlisted
men. Before we were to leave Holtville for NAS Los Alamitos at
Long Beach, California, the squadron was streamlined into a Composite
squadron consisting of only flying officers and flying crewmen
and about five administrative officers and a hand full of key
ground enlisted men. The rest were released to the local CASU
unit at Holtville for reassignment.
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