I arrived in the PI October of 1967
where I flew into Clark AB and got processed in.  Then I heard about
Angeles City.  I had a couple of days at Clark before heading for my
"isolated " tour of duty at Wallace so I figured I better go do some
partying before I was stranded in the middle of nowhere.  

As soon as I got out of the Jeepney I was accosted by one girl after
another, all of them promising to fulfill my wildest fantasies. I being
a "cherry boy" was ripe for the picking. I succumbed.

A couple of days later, feeling like Don Juan reincarnated, I got on the
bus for Wallace. At the time it was quite the adventure and after being
in the PI for a few months it barely registered on the thrill meter.
The bus was packed with people, chickens, goats and pigs. The first
time the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere I wondered what was going
on. The men all got out on the road side of the bus and the women on
the shoulder side and proceeded to relieve themselves right there.
Another shock that would soon fade to nothing.

When I got to Wallace and got signed in I began to see what a great
place I was at. Of course I visited WASCOM right away and proceeded to
meet my fellow GIs and get acquainted. One person I remember in
particular was the NCO that ran the place, I can only remember his nick
name "Catfish", and he had a huge handlebar mustache.

I headed downtown and found the Harbor Lights. What a great place!
Bring your own whisky, which you bought for pennies on the dollar at
WASCOM, raise as much hell and chase as many women as you want. Get
drunk and eat fried rice and Lord knows what else. Just be back in time
for work in the morning.

I remember that my teeth became loose so I went to the Doc to find out
what was going on and he asked if I was drinking the water downtown.
Hell no! I said. "I know better than that." Well how about the ice?
I thought about it for a second. He didn't need an answer, I just
stopped using ice or brought some with me and my teeth tightened back
up.

We rented motorcycles, 90cc Hondas, up in Bagiuo City and were ripping
around the mountains. I came around a turn and hit an oil slick that
had leaked out of a huge transformer being hauled by a truck down the
mountain. The bike went out from under me before I knew what was going
on. I got on top of the bike while it was sliding and it was heading
directly for a Rabbit (Filipino Bus.) I kept pushing with my foot trying
to make it slide in another direction but it kept heading right for the
bus and the bus wasn't slowing down. All of a sudden the bike took a 90
degree turn and was sliding away from the bus and toward the edge of the
road which happened to be a cliff. The bike stopped about 5 feet away
from the edge of a cliff that would have most definitely been a fatal
fall. Apparently it wasn't my time to check out.

Shortly after this happened is when we had the earthquake. It was a BIG
ONE. I was in my room, top bunk third floor, when the bed started
shaking. I was wondering who was shaking my bed when Frank who was from
San Francisco hollered out "Earthquake!" I was out the door down the
stairs and outside the barracks watching the rest of the guys evacuating
the building. The ground was moving in waves and the telephone poles
were moving 30degrees in either direction. It was about the most
frightened I had ever been. We didn't have any casualties and no damage
to speak of but I heard that at the epicenter hundreds of people had
died. One of the things I remember vividly was to be sitting at the bar
and have the ice in my glass start rattling and moving around due to an
aftershock. We were all waiting for another big one.

I remember having F-4s and B-57s do "bubble checks" on us and looking at
the pilots wave at us as they flew across from the edge of the cliff. I
remember seeing a B-57 flying between the Voice of America antennas. I
remember seeing PAF F-86s buzz the cliff and I thought they were Migs
and we were under attack. I remember being out on a Bonka boat and
having a whale come up along side of us and blow. I remember the
greatest diving I have ever done at the three reefs off our own private
beach. I remember the local Filipinos that worked on base barbecuing a
goat and treating a bunch of airmen to a great party. I have never been
around a group of people that were so predisposed to treating others
with kindness and respect as were the Filipino people in general.

One of the most impactful moments in my life happened of all places, at
the Harbor Lights. It was about 3 AM Christmas morning and I was
sitting at a table feeling sorry for myself. I had been in the PI for
about two months and I was homesick and missing my girl friend. About
that time a little boy about six years old came in the door. This kid's
dad was obviously an American and his Mom was probably one of the bar
girls. The little guy only had one leg and he was on a homemade crutch
and he was begging for money with a tin can in his hand. To top it all
off he had a big smile on his face. This was his Christmas Eve. It hit
me like a bolt of lightening. I made up my mind then and there to try
my best to make a positive difference in the world and to never feel
sorry for myself again. I think of that little guy pretty often and
wonder what ever became of him.

When it came time for me to leave one of my other friends from
California, a real man of the world as compared to me, decided to
introduce me to LSD. I was sitting out on the bench in front of the
barracks waiting for the "Jolly Green Giant" to come and take me back to
"the world." He called down to me and said I should come up to his room
that he had something for me. I was totally naïve about drugs, this was
1967 and I was from small town Ohio. He handed me a joint that had been
laced with LSD, I didn't have a clue. The next thing I knew my body
felt like it was made of silly putty and I was heading for a helicopter
ride with military pilots. I got on the chopper and strapped myself in
so tightly I about cut myself in half. They flew with the doors open
and I was scared to death of both the ride I was on and of the fact that
I was tripping and I was sure that the Air Police would be waiting for
me when we landed at Clark. We landed, it finally wore off and I stayed
on base as opposed to having one last fling in the PI. In a couple of
days I would be in San Francisco and a civilian.

I am now going on 60 years old have a great family and have been married
to the same woman for over 35 years. Part of who I am now is due to my
experiences in the PI and especially at Wallace. It's too bad that no
other young guys that need a crash course in growing up will have the
opportunity that I had.

It was fun writing this and remembering what it was like. Every now and
then I meet somebody that was at Wallace and I feel a particular bond
with them. I hope that the folks that read this can relate. Sometimes
when I tell someone what it was like they look at me like I'm either
some kind of a latent criminal or full of BS. It was just the way it
was back then; we were all a bunch of young guys having a big time and
were away from home for the first time. I loved it.

b.bencsik@bencsik.com

NOTE: Thanks Bill for sharing this with us.