On a return trip to the island, after vacation, I had just sat down in the connecting bus to our charter flight from Oakland to Honolulu, when a middle-aged man wearing a flowered shirt sat down beside me. 

On the trip to the airport we chatted amiably, and the conversation got around to the Army's Nike-Zeus anti-missile system. Having just finished a tour with the U.S. Air Force I felt compelled to contrast the Army's Nike-Zeus with the Air Force's anti-missile approach. I raved on; about how the Air Force's boost-phase intercept was superior to the Army's terminal-phase interception. 

He listened very patiently, never disagreeing. When the bus reached its destination, we parted company. 

About a week after having returned to the island, my boss, myself and several fellow workers were entering the Officer's Club for lunch, when I was greeted by the outstretched hand of a U.S. Army, Four Star General with his entourage of assorted bird colonels and majors in tow. 

I did a double-take. It was the guy on the bus! 

With his entourage patiently waiting, we chatted like long lost friends for a few minutes; never once alluding to our previous conversation--he was gracious. 

After taking our leave of one another, my boss, who was suitably impressed, turned to me and asked how was it that I knew the head of the U.S. Army Missile Command. 
 

Hamming there in KX6 land was great fun, but it ruined it for me when I got back to the states--nobody wanted to talk to little old me; I was often tempted to use my KX6AY call.

I was 25 and single; worked for Bell Labs/Western Electric and had a GS rating equivalent to Major. I lived in the BOQ and took meals in the Navy officers mess (not a pretty sight--we often snuck in the CPO mess). If I had been married and accompanied by my family we would have lived in dependent's quarters.

I mention this because I was privy to sections of the social strata that some were not. The things that went on there at that time were pretty WILD--even by today's standards. If you were married and had your family with you, you could join one of the several "key clubs" there. Also, there was "organized" illegal gambling, drugs, smuggling, and other ways of getting your ass in a sling. There were several suspicious deaths (murders--gambling, etc.).

I knew several engineers single and married that were asked to leave before their tours were finished, due to their heavy dependency on alcohol--which was cheaper than Coke Cola!

In 18 months there were three different island doctors--all of which left under a cloud...  --Three great tails to tell there (later editions).

The dependent kids were, for the most part, "unsupervised," they kept the island security pretty busy.
 During my tour, the population grew to more than 3500 people.

The justice on the Island was "Navy Justice," e.g., if someone walked up behind me and hit me in the head with a two by four, the Navy's solution was to hold no hearing, but declare both parties at fault and ship both off the island.

A positive side was the money: one could amass a good sized nest-egg fast!

Even though, after eighteen months, I couldn't wait to get the "Hell Off," I have fond memories: it was truly a life altering experience! "
 

I had the habit of demanding that the pilot take me up to check the quality of the repairs. One day after a shot, with the doors off of the pontoon Beaver, a co-worker and myself took just such a ride. I think the pilot had had enough of my crap so as we taxied out and started our takeoff roll he opened the throttle, and pushed the aileron wheel over into my lap and held it there with his knee, and shouted: "here you fly the plane."
I had never flown a plane in my life; the only thing close was that I had been a Link Trainer instructor in the USAF--which I always mentioned two or three times around the pilot.

When I protested that I couldn't fly, he shouted back, "yea you can, you use to 'fly' in the Air Force, you told me so!"

My buddy who was in the "jump seat" in the rear, couldn't hear what was being said for all the noise, and assumed that I could indeed fly, so he set back to enjoy the ride.

Meanwhile, about halfway down the runway we were rolling at about 85 knots, I realized he was serious; he shouted, "take off, take off!" As we started to run out of runway, I looked at the flight instruments and praying, I pulled back on the aileron wheel and started climbing out at about ~300 fpm, I flew it as if I were flying my old Link Trainer (C-47) in IFR conditions--never once looking out the front windshields.

At about a 100 or so feet I did look out the wind shields and realized we had a crosswind (~25 kts) that was pushing us toward the tower where all I could see was what looked like a raised fist as I rolled it away from the tower.

We continued to climb to altitude ~5,000 feet where we got a radio call that there was an overdue boat out there somewhere and would we keep an eye out for it. So we flew around for what seemed like an eternity. All this time I was waiting and watching for the pilot to loosen his grip on the aileron wheel stalk so I could push it back into his lap--where it belonged--and scotch it with my knee; I sure as Hell didn't want to try and land that thing--especially with a cross wind!

Finally he directed me to the approach end of the island--right over the shark pit--to line up for final approach; at this point I was begging for him to take the wheel, but he kept saying "you can do it!" As we entered the approach pattern he backed off on the throttle and as we started to descend he took the wheel and landed the plane--I was so grateful I could have hugged his neck.

Later back at the JTO building I told my buddy what had actually happened--that I could not fly and had never flown until that day, when he finally understood what I was saying and finally believed me, he turned white and ran into the latrine where proceeded to lose his "lunch." Meanwhile I went back to the BOQ and took a shower and changed underwear.