Poro Point Perspectives
In July of 1969, my best friend Wayne “Reed” Ledwig and I arrived by helicopter at Wallace Air Station on a hot, sunny day. Our assignment, along with 30 other officers and NCOs, was to bring life to the recently formed Detachment 2, 14th Communications Squadron (ADC). The squadron’s mission was to operate a transmitter site that was part of the Over-the-Horizon Radar system that was designed to detect massive missile launches between Asia and Europe. Upon arriving, Reed and I were met at the helicopter landing site by the Det 2 Commander, Capt. Alex Valchuk. Reed and I had served another tour of duty at Mactan AB, in Cebu City the Philippines in 1967-68, so we understood the country a little bit and were both excited to return to the wild ways of the Philippines.
The 13 months spent at WAS were like most of our lives, days of highs and lows. Lots of time was spent at the WASCOM eating, drinking, and socializing. We went to USO Shows, Special Payday Shows that featured entertainers from Manila, “Member Nights” to view X-rated movies, and to Happy Hours, Sick Calls, etc. There were one armed bandits, the package store for beer and cigarettes, and a constant request from the locals to “please buy them a bottle or a package of cigarettes.”
Life in the AF was interesting with many of the younger troops counting the days until their first and only tours were over. Pre-1972, many Enlistees and officers sought refuge in the AF rather than being drafted. After 1972, everyone was a volunteer. Several times during my tour of duty there were hostile encounters between the first-termers who were primarily in 848th Ops and their career NCOs. Their anger appeared to be fueled by resentment toward authority and a desire to be somewhere else like home in the US. First-termers referred to the “lifers” as “flies” since they hung around sh** and were pesky.
Life downtown consisted of Poro Point for those who went off-base. A number of career NCOs stayed on base, saved their money, and pined away their time walking, collecting shells, or drinking in the WASCOM. One MSgt Bill Hancock prided himself on living on less than a dollar a day--$.30 for breakfast, skip lunch, $.45 for dinner and $.20 for a beer at night. Not my way of passing 13 months, but if Sgt Hancock was happy, who am I to say anything. I dare say that most of these folks found the WAS tour a giant pain in the rear and never looked back once their tour of duty was complete. Over the years I have contacted several of our senior leaders and asked them to register at the WAS Bluebook—none have done so. Also, a few senior NCOs did their best to make others miserable because they were miserable. These folks enjoyed pulling rank and pointing out their time in service. But all in all, we had a good group of men during my tour (women were assigned to WAS later).
For most of my friends and my year group, we could be found carousing at nights at the Harbor Lights, Playboy Club, Cherry Blossom, or D’Key. There were also a few other bars that were primarily “Filipino” that most GIs did not frequent. We also spent free weekend time lounging at the Cresta Ola, Nalinac, and Bali Hai hotels located on the flat beaches between San Fernando and Bauang. If you were lucky enough to have a car or took the big blue AF bus, you could visit Camp John Hay in Baguio. This permitted golf, shopping, and cooler weather. During my tour, few GIs traveled beyond Dagupan, Thousand Islands, and to Clark AB for medical, personnel, and training issues. A few spent 2-3 days in Manila, but not many!
Now, here we are nearly 40 years later. My WAS cohort is now in our early sixties as opposed to our early twenties when we called Wallace home. In telephone conversations with eight of my Det 2 friends, about a third have had serious health issues like heart bypass. Surprisingly to me, six retired from the military and more than half are still married to their original spouse.
In reflection, WAS allowed me to learn more about myself. At 22 I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life—stay in the AF or seek a career elsewhere. Wallace allowed me to meet a lot of smart and good people who were my support group. Pat Brown and Reed Ledwig were great friends and roommates. We use to talk about the good and bad and often sought advice from one another about the best way forward. Our friends Don Carroll, Dan Crossley, Tim Phillips, Bob Rhoades, and Gerry Bargo, were also super guys who always had interesting stories from the club, downtown, and home that we could commiserate and help one another through. I spent a lot of time reading books and traveling around the Philippines. We also worked with the civilian tech reps from Raytheon and they provided me with a different viewpoint of life that showed there was another path other than a military career. One of my friends from Raytheon, Dick Young, has kept in touch and his humor and approach to life influenced me after WAS. My tour was a positive experience and I would do it again, if I could. Perhaps what I missed the most after returning to the US were my friends, the almost carefree life outside of work, and the ability to experience adventure off-base at a modest price. It was also difficult, in some ways, to relate to college friends and family members who had not gone through the same experiences that we did in the Philippines.
So, what impact did the tour at Wallace have on you? The purpose of this initial blog is to get other WAS veterans to join in this conversation. Send your thoughts to Jerry Smith and he will post them below this blog for all to read. A few questions to jog your memory are:
1.What most
surprised you upon arriving at Wallace?
2.What important life lesson did you
learn while at WAS?
3.Why do you believe so many WAS veterans remember their
tour so positively?
4.Upon returning to the states, what one thing did you
miss most?
5.Who helped your career or supported you as a person? How did
they do this?
6.What interesting story can you tell us about your visits
downtown?
These are only a few questions and there may be other things you may want to add to the website for your fellow Wallace veterans to think about. Please, let us hear from you!
posted 11/20/08
Making the best of it
Harvey Swatsworth
Just
finished reading the blog by Earl Honeycutt on his take of the tour he spent at
Poro Point and have come to two conclusions. First and foremost, it is up to
each of us to make our assignments good or bad. Second, circumstances beyond our
control can cause us to not appreciate our surroundings. I was entering the 19
year of my Air Force Career with a wife and five children back in the states.
These were circumstances that made a remote assignment the least
desirable.
My assignment as Crew Chief on Charlie crew was OK, but in
order to make it enjoyable, we challenged the two other crews to any game of
their choice that could be played on Wallace or the surrounding area. The
competition was very competitive and within a week, the three crews were locked
in serious competition with each other. Just as we were getting into the swing
of things, I was reassigned as WASCOM Custodian.
Assignment to the WASCOM
was a wonderful experience and had my family been with me, it could have been
the very best assignment of my career. I made a choice to apply myself to make
the Club something that all Airmen stationed at Wallace would remember with fond
memories. Since I had no family to attend to, I could devote all my time to the
Club. Eighteen hour days were the norm and another promise I made myself, was
not to drink until after six PM and I was able to keep that promise despite some
people who were persistent in wanting to buy me a drink. The employees at WASCOM
were fantastic and professional so I could devote most of my time to improving
our services to our Airman.
The experience was beyond my wildest dreams.
Business was so good, that I had to Reply By Endorsement (RBI) to Headquarters
at Clark AFB each month and tell them that I would reduce the profits, freebies,
Floor Shows. What a life.
posted 11/21/08
A night out at the Point circa 1967
Jerry L. Smith
I had many good experiences while at Wallace that I fondly remember. I was the self appointed photography expert in the squadron. I took several of the guys under my wings and gave them OJT on how to use their equipment and get good quality photos. I also traveled around the vicinity alot on the lookout for new subjects to photograph. One saturday while out by the lighthouse I noticed the keeper of the lighthouse was in the side yard preping his fighting cocks for a scheduled cockfight. I introduced myself and we became friends and I was allowed to photograph his fighting cocks in action several times during my stay at Wallace.
One saturday I was invited by my filipino friend to attend a party he was having for several of his local rice farmer friends to celebrate the up and coming wedding of his daughter, of course I eagerly accepted the invitation. I felt very privileged to be accepted into his circle of family and friends. That evening I arrived to meet several rice farmers from the local area and drink home made rice wine (sochi). I was surprised to see that I was the only American G.I invited to the affair and I felt very honored to be there. During the evening discourse the Ilocano dialect was predominate while I spoke what few words I knew in Ilocano, some english and some spanish. Most of the guests were very friendly and came over to "salute" (toast) the sochi. There was alot of laughs, good fun and everyone was having a great time.
Not being aware of the local custom of bottoms up when saluted, I only sipped my drink while they downed the whole eight ounce glass of hooch. It was then that I realized my drinking skills were terribly inadequate for the occasion. It wasn't very long I began to notice that alot of the guests had somehow vanished from the faintly lit room. As I looked around my eyes fell to the floor it was there I found them all passed out. When I was the only one left standing and after blessing the host, I made my way out into the night air and back to the safety and comfort of my dormitory room.
Posted 12/01/08
LIVING THE WILD LIFE IN THE LAST FRONTIER circa 1972
Thomas J.
Jacobson
I
was struck by how similar the stories told above by Earl, Harvey, and Jerry are
to my own. While I wrote quite a bit in the Blue Book and run the risk of
repeating myself, there is a lot more to tell. Of course, much of what happened
at Wallace must stay at Wallace, but many stories are worth telling.
Like
Earl Honeycutt (who I have never met), Wallace was my 2nd tour in the P.I. I had
done 15 months at Clark, in the 6200 Security Police, followed by one miserable
year at March AFB, CA (SAC). So when I arrived back in the beautiful Philippines
I was (1) overjoyed to be out of SAC and (2) upset that I was being diverted to
a place I had not heard of and expected to be a tropical version of Thule,
Greenland. Boy, was I ever wrong. The people were friendly and actually had good
attitudes, something new to a first-termer like me who intended to get out when
my four years was up. I found that I could go to work and actually enjoy what I
was doing. Being promoted to flight chief was a heady experience for a young
buck sergeant like me. I started looking at lifers as people no different from
me. They had just been around longer and had their heads screwed on tighter.
After making E-5, I started giving serious thought to my future, eventually
re-enlisting after listening to the sage counsel of my good friend, Ed "Doc"
Bastion. Doc should have been a retention officer. He was good.
Whether
good or bad, I wouldn't trade my experiences at Wallace for anything. Jerry's
story about the wedding party reminds me that I once got invited to a dog roast.
Now, I knew that dog was considered a delicacy, but had not tried it. So there
was a group of Filipinos roasting a dog and they asked me to join them. I
thought dog tasted great. They started dipping chunks of dog meat into this
brownish sauce, so I tried that. They said it was made from the dog's blood, but
I swear it tasted like Heinz 57, which makes me wonder what Heinz 57 is made
from. Finally one of them split the dog's skull in half with a bolo knife,
exposing the uncooked brains. They started dipping the meat in the brains, so I
tried it. Now I know where "head cheese" gets its name. It tasted like Velveeta,
believe it or not. I ate a lot that night. If they were trying to gross out the
American, it didn't work. That was some good chow, no pun intended.
There
were dangers in paradise. One midnight shift, shortly after I had come on duty,
the comm/plotter, Jim Oliver, got a call from the Harbor Lights. The girl (Sweet
Pea, I guess) said that there were three American SPs being held at gunpoint by
a group of men, probably NPA, who had automatic weapons. They had taken our guys
outside and were threatening to shoot them. I was Flight Chief, with A1C Guy
Symosko as my rider. Between us we had two .38 revolvers, an M-16, and a M-12
shotgun. I knew who she meant - my friends Pete Nichols, Craig McKay, and Jim
Dunn had gone down to the Harbor Lights earlier. I told Symosko to chamber a
round, we were going to get those guys out. So I left the base, which was a
no-no, and high-tailed it down to the Harbor Lights. When we got there, the
place was dark and there was nobody around. At least there were no bodies in the
parking lot. Guy and I drove slowly around the streets back of the bar, sniffing
things out. Then I heard someone say "Wait, stop!" It was our three guys, all
healthy but scared witless. They were hiding in the weeds in a drainage ditch. I
asked if they were all right and which one was the most sober. Dunn seemed
pretty sober, so I gave him the M-12 and told him to cover our rear, and we sped
back to base. Those guys were pale as ghosts. I called the base commander to
report the incident. I even told him about leaving the base, but I guess he
understood that sometimes you have to break the rules.
We knew how to
have fun, and the abundance of alcohol fueled our enthusiasm. One time I had
come by some locally made firecrackers. Those suckers were loud. So one night
Jim Dunn and I threw a couple off the third floor balcony of our dorm. They
sounded like a .44 magnum. In no time here came Sgt Adrian Knowles, red lights
and siren, thinking they must have been gunshots. When he got to the bottom of
the fire escape, I threw another one, which exploded just over his head. By the
time it went off, we were halfway down the center stairwell, heading for ground
level. Knowles came boiling out of the dorm, looking like a one-man hornet's
nest. Dunn and I just strolled casually up and asked what was happening. Such
innocence. I wonder if Knowles ever suspected it was us. If he's reading this,
he knows. Adrian, I live in downtown Calcutta.
Knowles was involved in
another incident I remember well. I had worked the midnight shift and was due to
be relieved by Knowles around 0700. His flight showed up, but Knowles didn't. I
figured, correctly, that he had come in very drunk the night before and was
still sleeping. I took my patrol rider, A1C Jim Oliver, and went to his room in
the dorm. Knowles was sound asleep in bed. We tried for about 10 minutes to wake
him, shaking him and yelling, but nothing worked. I was tired and getting
ornery. He had a little refrigerator, so I took an ice tray from the freezer and
laid it on his chest. He came off that bed like a grizzly bear and grabbed a
nightstick from his web belt. I shrank back into the room and pulled my
revolver, thinking I would have to shoot him if her came after me. But he went
after Oliver, who had run out into the hallway. Knowles threw the nightstick at
Jim so hard that I heard it hit the door at the far end of the hall. Oliver, did
a backward somersault to avoid it. Thankfully, that was the end of the
confrontation and there was no shooting, but Knowles did get in a bit of trouble
over the incident. So concluded another well-rounded night of
insanity.
Just a couple more stories, and these belong in the category
"strange but true." I was on the midnight shift with my partner, Sgt Joel Finch.
We had stopped to check on the guard at the entry control point to Det 2. I was
off a little way from the jeep, taking a leak in the grass. All of a sudden I
could clearly see every blade of grass. I looked up (I was facing east, toward
the mountains) and I could see the mountains and trees clear as if it was noon.
Then, just as suddenly, we were in pitch dark again. Joel said, "What the hell
was that?" I said I didn't know. We checked with Operations and they didn't know
anything about it. Today I would say that a giant meterorite came down in the
South China Seas and lit up the west coast of Luzon. But I never read a thing
about it. Another time I was walking across the parking lot by the WASCOM and
heard the engines on a drone firing up for takeoff. Just then I had a flashback
to a dream I had had the night before, which I had forgotten, that a drone took
off and lost power and fell into the bay. Sure enough, that's exactly what
happened. In my 18 months that was the only drone that ever splashed into the
bay, but I knew it was going to happen. Strange but true.
Wallace was the
best assignment I ever had. I know how to respond if anyone asks, "What was the
best year of your life?" It was 1972, when I spent 365 days at Wallace. I don't
know if I'd want to go back now. It might have changed too much, and I'd like to
remember it the way it was. The Last Frontier.
Posted 12/05/08
What Life Was Like At Wallace 1987 - 88
Barbara Warren Van Tassel
While in tech school, one guy warned me about the Philippines: He said, "Barb, there is nothing like the Philippines." He was right. After the long, 36-hour flight from the states, I thought I'd get some rest.
on the four-hour bus ride from Clark to Wallace--NOT! There were two really drunk Australians on the bus, who carried on loudly for the whole ride up to Wallace. One Australian bar owner who must have weighed at least 400 lbs., named "Tiny", was asked why he was called "Tiny". He replied, "Because I'm the smallest lot of the litter, mate."
My memories
of the Philippines are mixed: it was the best of times--it was the worst of
times. I loved the beach and snorkeling (except for the little stinging octopi).
However, women were a "commodity" and treated with little respect.
Fortunately, I found that not all the guys thought
that way. We
were locked on base during the coup d'etat attempts (Marcos vs. Aquino)
for the last 6 months, or so. (Funny how the locals still made it on base,
though. When asked where the entertainment was for the women, the guys replied
that they would get up and dance for us girls--not a pretty picture--we turned
them down.) Luckily, we had also traveled to Baguio to enjoy the other locations
of the Philippines.
Still have
memories of Mike Revere, CW, Kerwood, Cooper, Sheri Daumbaucher,
etc. I still have quite a large photo collection, too. Will try to get photos
scanned and uploaded.
Sidenote: "The Rock" was never green while we were there. I did eat Balute (but only the white part).
Posted 12/27/08
Scuba Diving Around Wallace
David G. Jewell
Crazy Diver Dave says "My scuba career ended at Wallace when I dropped a loaded power head during a bad squall that had come up 11 sep 1980 and taking the slug into and through my left lung . It passed between ribs going in, through my left lung, Between my heart and aortic arch, struck and fractured a couple of vertebrea and rolled around and atop my spine where it was removed simply by cutting into the skin after medical evacuation to Clark AB. Gotta love those pararescuemen (specifically a guy nicknamed Bone Crusher) in their old purple berretteas".
Special Thanks to the Wallace Remote site qualified Medic an African American Fellow whom's name escapes me now,a SSGT I believe at the time who started the IV. Thanks to their joint efforts and TSGT Ed Cooper and Major Bob Williams Clark Command Post (and Scuba Buddys). Also a nutsoid chopper pilot who took the A/C and trip at risk due to high winds I 'm Still Standing and would love to hear from Tim Auction, Mort Freedman (RED BERRETTEA FAC/CCT- I should have cross trained when you asked Mort) and other scuba buddies and RADAR site friends that remember Crazy Diver Dave..
Posted 1/22/09 (late post)
And it just kept getting better
Steve Whaley
I was one of 4 newbies straight out of tech school at Keesler. Myself, Mark Leppart, Neil Marquardt and Virgil Browning. Sgt Bernie Wakoviac was assigned as my trainer and he started me off the very first night. Down to the Harbor Lights where he introduced me as the newest Cherry in the PI, which garnered lots of attention. Later down to the Cresta ola beach resort where somehow we all ended up swimming naked in the pool while people above watched all the crazy "joes" I woke in the morning, tangled in mosquito netting and arms and legs of a pretty gal. Must have had a good time cause she was all smiles. I needed some coffee, badly, so took off in search of Wallace AS. Having no idea where I was, I stopped the first jeepny I saw and he agreed to take me to Wallace for 20 pesos. Seemed high, but again, I had no idea where I was. I hopped in, he went about 40 yards, made a left and went maybe another hundered yards and I was at the gate. And it just kept getting better the whole 13 months.
Posted 2/5/09
U.S Submarine Visit
Jerry L. Smith
In 1966 on a beautiful afternoon a U.S Navy submarine made a port call down at the Poro Point docks. We were all very excited about it, it was a beautiful looking WWll holdover. It looked so brand new we were all fooled when the Captain said it was a holdover from the war. The Navy sure did a superfine job of maintaining it. We were all proud to see her sitting there majestically in crystal deep blue waters with old glory waving ever so proudly in the wind. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
Several of us from Wallace were invited to inspect and view some of the compartments on board. One of our officers got sick from being in closed in spaces. I went straight to the Galley. I had a rather long talk with the cook and he explained in detail how everything worked. The Galley had a very close quarter seating arrangement, only 4 tables in the mess in which all the crew ate in shifts sixteen at one time. He gave permission for me to inspect his walk-in refrigerator. I was really suprised to see big juicy beautiful gold oranges, and big thick steaks. Those sailor boys had the best of everything when it came to chow. The troops on Wallace were not, I repeat NOT treated equally. But then I was glad I was not a sailor on a submarine, I don't like closed in spaces either.
Posted 2/7/09
Russian Trawler Visits Wallace
By Jerry Smith
In 1967 a Russian Trawler came into San Fernando harbor, pulled up and parked there for several days. The scuttlebutt was that it came to spy on us at Wallace. Some of these ships were known spy ships and carried very sensitive listening devices on board. We were warned to stay away but I wasn't about to let this photo opportunity slip thru my fingers. So I loaded up my trusty 35mm with high speed ektachrome, wrapped it in clear plastic to make it water resistent, put on my swim gear and headed for the harbor. I jumped in the water with only swimsuit and camera. At first I felt like I was in a one arm juggling contest. I was holding the camera up out of the water with one hand and paddling with the other. I was making slow but steady progress when I noticed that sharks began circling around me, yikes, I was dead meat and in a hell of a fix. My main concern was not survival but rather to keep salt water from entering my brand expensive new asahi pentax. So when I came to within a few hundred feet of the Trawler I began taking photos with one hand while paddling with the other.
When I was satisfied that I got the pictures I went for, I took one last look at the ship then made a hasty retreat for land. I was tired, and more than just a little nervous. I knew if I didn't stay calm I would drown or probably be a quick afternoon snack for the sharks. There was also the outside chance of being shot by the ruskies. I was terrified at all the posssiblities, so I very slowly but quickly made my way back and paddled with one hand while holding the camera above my head with the other. When I made it to the shallow reef by the VOA I was exhausted but very happy I survived. This was one adventure I will never forget and besides I got some great looking ekatachrome slides that I still treasure today. Would I do it all over again? You betchya!!!
Posted 3-24-09
Discipline, Honor and Caring For the Troops
CMS Buck Brennan - Operations Supervisor
As a processional NCO I approach my assignment in the P I,Wallace AS in terms of military discipline and duty, which when I arrived at Wallace was severely lacking, I will keep my focus mainly on Operations. It was evident why Operations failed a ORE. It was not do to poor troops but leadership at the highest level, many of these airmen were smart eager to learn, but no one was telling them how to use there talents. those reading this may get upset, what I saw was each one had there own agenda and this was there playground. It was party time ( all the time) and worst of all this behavior was condoned and look the other way. Yes The locals were friendly and more that willing to help if you had the Pesos.And yes there were good honest working class of locals.
When young airmen are placed in a area that any thing goes ,i.e. drinking, buying bar fines selling their rations of booze to the local black-market so the could find a better place to live off site,because the First Sgt would not get them blankets, I can see why they thought the mission was not important. Then lets look at middle management TSGT as crew chiefs. I found these NCOs' were taking advantage of there people and were going against ops policy. When removing them from there position I got A loud protest from the CO, as in his words these people are your friends, my response was no they are my subordinates. Alcoholism was common in the senior ranks and yes I forced some to attend treatment, I foung cheating on Evaluations dishonesty in testing policy we had in ops. And yes some were not allowed to extend their tour.
When you put the right person in position to do a job and that person is honest , will take care of his troops then you are a winer. After all the work at wallace I would have been happy to extend but the powers to be would have denied my stay. I welcome any comments and hopefully things got better after my departure from wallace. What I have read in the letters the unit was in great shape several years later.