YOKOSUKA

by SSgt. Robert Tallent, Leatherneck Staff Correspondent

Copyright Marine Corps Association May 1951

YOKOSUKA is a big fleet base. Sailors pass through for assignment; the Far East fleet puts in here to refit; and Marines hold down security, military policing, and anti-aircraft protection for the huge dock area.

The biggest battleship in the world was built at Yokosuka - by the Japs, consequently it is no longer with us. During War II the town itself took a heavy beating from our planes, but the installations for ship repair were not seriously damaged. A grim reminder of the inadvisability of war against the United States lies in an abandoned anchorage about 50 yards off the eastern shore: a defunct Jap tin can, rusty bottom turned skyward, serving at present as a sea gull roost.

A ship out of San Francisco will take you to Yokosuka in 17 days. A train out of Tokyo will get you there in an hour and 40 minutes.

The chief topographical feature of the base is Unnecessary Mountain.

PFC Dan Dolan pointed it out as he tooled the jeep expertly through the main gate. "That's Unnecessary," he said unnecessarily. Nobody could miss it. The ungainly hill, plopped smack in the center of the station, rises sharply just inside the gate and glowers down over the barracks area and the receiving station on the right, and the dock and repair areas on the left. From the top of the hill the Marine barracks and the naval buildings look like yellow box cars on a monstrous railroad siding.

On the slopes of Unnecessary live the station's high brass. During War II, Unnecessary Mountain was the main nerve center of the Japanese air raid warning system. Deep in its catacombs the big shots of the Jap high command played war games in a cave the size of a gymnasium. It has air raid shelters that can accommodate men by the division.

Our driver took a right turn and headed down the mile and a quarter stretch of black top road. He indicated the naval hospital, and, past an under-nourished traffic circle, the station brig, operated by the Marines. We cruised by the flank of the hospital to the right, past the naval receiving barracks to the left of the grinder (parade ground) and pulled up at the last box car barracks lying at the eastern side of the station.

The barracks is a rectangular three-decker, no porches, no peaks, or architectural gingerbread-strictly a functional box. Dolan commented on the color. "It used to be purple," he said. The original paint, Jap style, was bright red, but the weather had faded it out. "It looked bruised. It's not so bad now," he said philosophically. "What color yellow would you say this is?"

Before we had time to answer, two buses pulled up in the parking area and unloaded a number of replacements fresh from the States. Dolan looked at them and said: "Probably Reserves."

They were wearing full combat regalia over their greens.

"We've been getting a lot of them here for the past couple months," said Dolan. "We train 'em on combat techniques for about six weeks. Sort of a high pressure boot camp. Then they either stay here or go on up to the division."

We walked inside while the new replacements were unloading their sea bags, and sighted in on the barracks. The interior was more pleasant than the outside. The overhead was high, about 14 feet, but freshly painted in the shiny green that you see in Marine barracks the world over. Squad bays were big and deep. The bunks had been tripled up.

"They weren't three-stacked until this Korean thing," said Dolan. "We had to do it to take care of the turn-over of personnel and the casualties coming in from Korea."

We went on down the hall through a big squad bay which was currently being used by transient hospital corpsmen. In a big room at the end a group of clerks were working furiously at their desks. We introduced ourselves to Sergeant Major Victor Harns. Harns is a big friendly guy from Henrietta, Oklahoma. He has been on the station for 27 months. We asked him if he was getting restless. He said he was quite happy at the base. "Not only that, we've been so busy here for the last couple years, we haven't had time to think of going anyplace."

He introduced us around and then we went in to talk to Colonel H. P. Ross, Jr. Ross is medium height, a forceful, direct, full colonel who told us to make ourselves at home on the base. We had to plead with him to get a picture. "You don't want my picture," he said. "Get pictures of the men on the base. They've been doing a fine job." After we talked to the NCOs and the privates we found out how right the colonel had been.

The barracks detachment had been expanded and the whole organization was doing its best to see that the Marine casualties coming back from the front were being taken care of properly.

The supply organization, a typical peacetime set-up, handles requisitions and the issue of stores and equipment. Almost overnight they were swamped with the big problem of getting uniforms for the casualties. These men, fresh from Chosin reservoir action, had been flown from Yong-po airfield directly to the naval hospital at Yokosuka. They were wearing dungarees and the parts of dungarees that hadn't been cut away to dress their wounds. At the hospital they were issued pajamas and sent into the overloaded wards. They needed uniforms. The supply unit at the barracks undertook the job. To accomplish it, the unit exhausted every available supply of Marine uniforms in the Pacific area. They scrounged stuff from Pearl Harbor, Guam, and Kobe, and were crying for more. However, the casualties were equipped with uniform essentials as fast as they became available.

In the ham shack, in the supply building. Master Sergeant Fenton Martin pounded an overloaded key getting messages back to the parents and loved ones of the casualties. He was in contact with Camp Pendleton's amateur radio station and they, in turn, were shooting the messages as they came in, through ham stations all over the United States and U. S. possessions. Martin had been working 15 hours a day for three solid weeks. He'd sent out 1770 messages in a 13-day period and handled over 250 incoming messages. Spelling him at the key was Captain Gene Goss. Another Marine, Staff Sergeant Samuel E. Cribb, was circulating constantly through the wards of the hospital delivering and picking up the message blanks that Martin had caused to be mimeographed for the emergency.

This job was a huge one, cheerfully undertaken. They had willingly volunteered for it. The ordinary communication channels out of Japan were jammed. The American Red Cross, which ordinarily handles casualty queries, was swamped. One of the Red Cross officials said that Martin's work had reduced their job by more than 60 per cent!

In spite of the hectic nature of their work, the guys still find good times and jolly moments around Yokosuka. Liberty goes at 1630 and the spot that most of the men head for is the EM club in Yokosuka, a ten-minute walk down the road from the main gate.

The club is a huge building containing a restaurant, snack bar, stag beer hall, taxi dance hall, and a dance hall for couples. There's a patio in the center with fountains and an oriental garden. The entrance to the movie is off to the right. (Nice theatre, latest films, the best spot to take a date.) There's seldom any difficulty finding the EM club from the main gate. Standing on the sidewalks outside the gate are dozens of small shapely guides. They are called Skivvy-skivvy girls, which is probably a Japanese term. The fee for their services is generally a steak at the EM club restaurant. However, you can shop around for a guide and find one willing to undercut the going price. Steak is a dollar, by the way, scrip.

One of the more lamentable facts about these young ladies is that they are addicted to western fashions. Although their taste is sometimes startling, they wouldn't think of walking the streets in the old and considerably more charming kimonos.

If you're going to stag it, you can get away for a night (liberty's up at 12 o'clock) for three or four dollars. Unless, of course, you go looking for silks and souvenirs to send to the folks at home. Then it depends on what you want to buy and how shrewd a bargainer you are.

The proprietors of the souvenir shops which blanket Yokosuka hate to pass up a sale. But they will if the margin of profit isn't big enough. The biggest lament of the Marines at the batracks is that sailors off the ships for a night come ashore loaded with money and buy anything and everything at the first price asked. This makes it rough on permanent personnel. Markets inflated by tourists have been a problem in Tientsin, Tsingtao and Peiping for years, and to date nobody has come up with a good solution. Proper instruction in the art of haggling and in how to get along with native shop-keepers might help. Another possible and readily available solution is to engage the transients in games of skill or chance, thus taking the pressure off the marts of trade.

A Marine who had hit Yokosuka in the First group in 1946 would gnash his teeth in anguish today at the exorbitant prices being asked for silks, cameras and beer. A quart of Nip beer goes for 60 cents American. Beer isn't bad if you're not from Milwaukee. The heavy Japanese silks are plentiful, better in quality and cheaper in price than those that could be purchased in China in 1947-48.

When riding the pedi-cabs (a three-wheeled, maniac-propelled, street weapon) it's a good idea to keep your mouth closed lest the driver spot your gold fillings. Two people can fit quite cozily in the back of a pedi-cab if one of them isn't a Marine. The drivers will ask for a hundred yen (about 38 cents) to haul you from the railroad station to the EM club, which isn't a bad price considering the fact that your beneficiaries might make $10,000 out of the deal. Taxicabs are generally cheaper, faster, and more sanitary.

There are four approved Japanese operated beer halls in Yokosuka. They specialize in Nip beer, loud juke box music (cowpoke opera) and svelte waitresses. Liberty depends entirely on what you wish to do, the time you have to do it in, and mainly, of course, how much money you've got. A guy that can't have a good time by 12 o'clock just ain't tryin'.

Nobody is on the streets after 12 o'clock, except the hawk-eyed Marine MPs and small groups of bankrupt girl guides.

The MPs have their central head-quarters near the RTO. Whenever you're traveling in Japan you will see big signs at the stations where you get off saying: "RTO," and underneath a large arrow. Very few Marines have found out what RTO actually stands for but if you follow the arrows you generally come across a comfortable waiting room and a Japanese who can speak English: a big help in trying to figure out train schedules.

Train departures and arrivals are announced over a PA system but the native announcers speak train language just as our American announcers do. Nobody, Japanese or American, understands them. On the whole, traveling by train in Japan is excellent. Trains are always on time and the service is extremely good. The fare from Tokyo to Yokosuka is 140 yen and the trip requires about an hour and 40 minutes. Whenever the Marines get a weekend off, they generally head for Tokyo; although Yokohama is a highly favored stop-off.

At the Yokosuka terminal, the MPs will always give you a helping hand or information.

They patrol the town and keep order in the military forces and keep an eye open for black marketeers. The black market still exists, but it's only a gray shadow of what it was in '46 and '47. Any serviceman who tries to get even cigarette money on the profits of black market today will be a long time between smokes. A carton of cigarettes brought $5 on the old black market, today you're lucky to get $1.40. Only the most popular American cigarettes are accepted by Yokosuka's under-the-counter merchants.

The MPs and the Japanese police nevertheless have to keep an unceasing vigil in the streets and in the shops, for as fast as they quash one racketeer, two more seem to spring up in his place. (Summary court for servicemen. Nobody knows what happens to the Nips who get caught at it.)

The MP force itself is composed of men with long experience at working in the streets of Yokosuka, Oceanside, Calif., and Jacksonville, N. C. Their biggest headaches are the roistering crowds of sailors in port for the night, after two months or so at sea. In answer to a question: "Do you get many riot calls?" a weary desk sergeant, Corporal Albert Montanaro, said: "We didn't have one last night . . . but up until the fleet left two days ago we got one or two a night for a solid month." In spite of their energetic and sometimes slightly messy duties they manage to be a super-sharp outfit. They wear shiny white helmet liners, white pistol belts and lanyards, over their greens. They wear gold Marine Corps emblems on their liners with big, block, two-inch high MP letters on either side.

Attached to the Yokosuka MP command is a security detachment which operates from the Navy's Exchange Hotel in Tokyo. This unit, headed by Lieutenant Oscar Imer, stands its tour of duty in blue trousers, flannel shirts, and white hats. In order to compete with the fancy Army and Air Force guards the Marines wear special shiny pistol holsters, shiny brass-mounted pistol belts, and heavy, inch-wide, milk-white lanyards on their weapons. Unquestionably they are the sharpest looking security force in the Pacific.

While the force itself is under the direction and supervision of the Yokosuka command, they very seldom get down to the base. A unique feature of the outfit is that they have sailors serving in the guard itself. The sailors were specially trained by the Marines for duty at the flag headquarters of the Commander Naval Forces Far East. They turn out for VIPs and for all special occasions where Marines must be represented in Tokyo. At the same time they maintain a day on and day off guard within the Exchange Hotel. The constant presence of high brass makes their duties very exacting. While we were asking one man about the duty, the sergeant of the guard. Sergeant Ivan F. Jones, said: "Keep quiet. If you tell 'em we like it here they might transfer us!"

The Marines at Tokyo go on liberty at the OHQ Club, an enlisted club operated by the Army. They date WACs and American civilian girls working at MacArthur's Tokyo headquarters. Tokyo has all the recreation spots, night clubs, entertainment, and athletic events that you could find in Chicago. Consequently, when a Marine isn't on duty at the Exchange Hotel he's a mighty hard man to find.

The efforts of the security guard personnel in presenting an unusually neat and smart military appearance have been officially recognized by ComNavFE. Rear Admiral A. K. Morehous, Chief of Staff, during a recent inspection of the security guard, indicated that the unit, during its short period of operation, reflected great credit on the Navy, and could rank itself on a comparable basis with the GHQ honor guard.

Working in conjunction with the force at Yokosuka is a Japanese police force, patrolling both the base and the town. They are an extremely alert force and they handle all matters pertaining to Japanese nationals. They've kept petty larceny, pilfering and thievery around the base to a surprising minimum. They're courteous and cooperative, functioning hand in glove with Marine MPs. One headache the Marines had until recently was a restriction that the Japanese police could not arrest American nationals. A GHQ order fixed that in December. The Marines heaved a sigh of relief. Handling civilian miscreants is a problem they like to keep well away from.

The Marine families on the station at Yokosuka live in dressed up Quonset huts and two-story duplex buildings. Dependents' housing is completely electrical, stoves, refrigerators, heating, etc. The Japanese government furnishes one servant for each EM family and additional servants can be hired for between $8 and $10 a month. The average wait for families to arrive at Yokosuka after all arrangements are made is six months. Station housing at the present time is difficult to come by. There's a high school in Yokohama about a 45-minute bus ride, a grammar school on the station and a parochial school outside ($75.00 a year tuition).

The women do their shopping at the commissaries on the station, at Yokohama and at Nasugbu. Prices are the same as in the States. Preference of commissaries is a matter of individual choice. An automobile is an important accessory. If at all possible it's a good idea to have your car sent out. Parts are pretty hard to get. Better have it in good mechanical shape before shipping.

There are many lodges and resorts maintained by the Army for the use of occupation personnel. A family can go on an inexpensive leave at a place like the Nikko Kanaya Hotel - lush even by Stateside standards. Meals are $1.20 a day per person, half price for children. It's 139 miles by car from Yokosuka. There's excellent trout fishing and in the winter time you can hunt bear, deer, boar, pheasant, duck and geese. Sporting equipment is available in limited quantities. There's a swimming pool for summer time. Resorts for the unmarried personnel are run on essentially the same basis.

There are several clubs for the Marine and Navy wives on the station and most of the women join up. The clubs are the Gray Ladies, the PTA, the Protestant Women's Guild, the Catholic Women's Club. The women's clubs have been busy in casualty assistance at the naval hospital. During the holidays all the families invited wounded Marines to their homes for Thanksgiving, Christmas dinners, and parties.

Several hundred men have been trained as replacements, and the training program has been stepped up to include instruction on the AA cannons. In addition to the weekly training program, many of the Marines go to training movies after hours. This is on a voluntary basis. The movies are run five nights a week. and they cover all the basic Marine Corps subjects. On Saturdays there's generally a colonel's inspection of the barracks, and a parade and review. In addition, there are conditioning hikes once a week (about 12 miles) with full combat gear. The training is roughly divided between basic military training for Reserves, and intensive automatic weapons instruction for the Regular members of the detachment.

The recreation program has felt the pinch of the Korean war like all activities on the base. Surprisingly enough, the basketball team managed to get through a full schedule this winter. There's also boxing, swimming, baseball, and football, but the two latter sports are generally consolidated with Navy teams. In the way of recreation there's bowling, a swimming pool, ice-skating rink in winter, and a yacht club which Marines can join. The yacht club was quite popular a year ago, but during this newest war the Marines haven't had time to tool around with small boats.

Everything considered, if a Marine had a choice of a post outside the United States, he'd be smart to say: "Make mine Yokosuka." The only unhandy thing about it is the commuting back and forth to the United States. But when a man has a combination of good duty, excellent recreation, and pretty fair liberty, the United States doesn't seem so far away.