Excerpts from Letters to Mom in italics.
08 November 1966
I'm bored stiff here [Coronado, enduring the classroom indoctrination about survival psychology, the moral aspects of the Armed Forces Code of Conduct, the Geneva Conventions and communist indoctrination. He also, ran into AGC Mills from "A" School at Lakehurst, who was proud to see his charge volunteering for duty in 'Nam.] I can't wait to get going, or rather, get out of here. Disbursing has finally started to take back money for the 3 months advance pay I drew in Taiwan. I'm getting $25 every two weeks, so I can't afford to do anything or go anywhere. I'm just reading most of the day and nite. I'm looking forward to Camp Pendelton with daily marches etc - this nothing [underscored] here is also tiring. I expect I'll be leaving about Thanksgiving, at least I hope so. I can't wait to get back to the Philippines!
I finally wrote Jerry Chandler in Taipei. I should have written him after I visited Fort Meade. Guess I'll always be a poor letter writer. I almost got homesick for Taipei. I'm gonna try and pull an R & R trip there from Vietnam.
20 November 1966
Coronado
Your letter got here on the fourteenth but I was up at Camp Pendelton til the 18th. Your first letter will probably be held by one of the AG's for me or possibly rerouted [from Vietnam].
After survival school, the course of weapons familiarization by the Marines was easy. Hell, they fed us (C rations) and even gave us a warm place to sleep. They marched us quite a bit (with packs, helmets etc) too. We learned to field strip, assemble, load and fire fourteen weapons. We threw hand grenades and had a demonstration with an 81mm mortar.
I haven't weighed myself, but I think I lost a few (5 lbs) pounds at Pendelton. We did a little hiking, mostly straight up [them damn, bald hills]. My legs feel muscular and I feel in better shape.
I may have seemed depressed when I wrote that last letter. That same nite I went to the go-go joints in Diego ["Day-go"] and dropped a few dollars. I did so again the day I returned from Pendelton. I have some money, but I wouldn't if I went to town often. So I normally read or get a few beers and something to eat at the club on base. Food prices are fantastic in town! Lousy joints charge a dollar for a cheeseburger.
Battle scars. At survival we were required to rappel down a cliff (about 50 feet). I didn't do exactly as I was told and tightened up with a hand I shouldn't have and got some rope burns on my left paw. My hand is healed now! I pulled myself up the few feet that I dropped and did the rappelling the correct way. Other than that, just a cut lip and a few bruises. At Pendelton I got a little blister on my ankle. I took good care of myself. I wore a pair of Navy socks plus two pair of sweat socks with my combat boots. I believe I broke my feet in more than the boots, though. My feet hurt everyday. I'd hate like hell to be infantry - Marine or Army.
I only have four days of classes this week because of Thanksgiving. [From the back of a large auditorium filled with other troops headed to Vietnam, AG2 Fehr had the balls to ask an unwanted question of the officers of the dais conducting the indoctrination. He was more than a bit apprehensive. Wasn't it true that according to the Geneva Accords that ended the 1954 Indochina war that free elections were to be held in 1956, but that our South Vietnamese allies refused to hold them? With his heart beating rapidly, the officers conferred and merely dismissed the query saying that it was feared the Communists would cheat to win the elections. No retribution against the trouble-maker. Just disarm the question.] I expect to be leaving the 28th or after. That's a guess, but probably pretty close. From here I go to Travis AFB just north of San Francisco for my flight to the Philippines.
I'll soon be going over to watch football on TV. I do that on Sat. & Sun. The games from the Eastern time zone come on at 10:30 AM and are followed by one from this time zone at 1:30 or 2:00 PM. It seems weird for the games to start so early! Since I got a cold, I guess I'll sip bourbon on the rocks during the games.
I never was enthusiastic about Navy chow, but Marine Corp chow is terrible. The C-rations I ate in the field were better. I believe I spend as much money on chow as beer. The food is OK but you must stand in a long damn line on holidays and evenings and wear blues. I only brought one set of blues and don't wish to change from dungarees to blues just to eat. So I normally get in civies and eat at the club. I guess I'll eat at the club on Thanksgiving. And I'll call sometime before I leave the states.
26 November 1966 [Postcard of San Diego Skyline]
I was invited out for Thanksgiving by a buddy in this school who is or was stationed here. I called about 2:30 EST but you were probably at Grandma's house. I leave the U.S. December 8, but may have to leave S. Diego the 28th, I'm not yet sure. I went to Tijuana, Mexico, the other day. I stayed out of trouble and had a pretty good time. Am watching the Army-Navy game. Will write and call later.
01 December 1966
AG2 Stephen Fehr, USN
Armed Forces YMCA
500 West Broadway
San Diego, 1, Calif. 92101
I've had absolutely nothing to do since the 28th. I was transferred from Coronado on the 28th with instructions to report in at Travis AFB, north of San Francisco, by 1700 hours on 08 December. They gave me one day to proceed or travel time and the rest will be charged against my leave record. [In other words, due to the military's logistical ineptitude, the enlistee was forced to eat a week's hard-earned, annual leave time.] They also gave me $35 travel pay.
I got a room at the Armed Forces YMCA and bought a cheap Greyhound bus ticket to Travis. The room cost me just about $20 for one week and the ticket for the twelve hour ride to 'frisco, $15, to eat up the travel pay.
If I would have been well heeled, I could have come home or spent a more lively time here. I found a little delicatessen to buy sandwiches and know most of the cheap (25¢) draft and (40¢) bottle beer joints. I also tried out some Mexican cooking yesterday. Very good!
I haven't been south of the border since last week but probably will go down tomorrow. As I see it, I'll have to rent a room for three more days, get a haircut and have some laundry done. That ought to be about $13 to $14 dollars. Unfortunately, I'm down to my last three dollars; fortunately, I still have an uncashed check for $58. Scared you?
I have a pretty dull routine. I get up and get cleaned up, eat breakfast at the Y and read the L.A. Times. Then I read some more and/or get a few beers and eat again. Then I watch TV at the Y and get a few beers and hit the rack. Now, it's about time to go down and watch TV.
I bought a German magazine, "Stern," the other day. It's one of the three big ones in Germany comparable to our Life or Look. They were always available at the gasthauses and Gretchen subscribed to them. Made me a little "heimweh" or homesick for the old country. I'm pretty sure I'll spend Xmas in Phu Bai, but I'm gonna try and delay in the P.I. at least until my money runs out.
08 December 1966 [Postcard of Shelter Island, San Diego]
Took the express Greyhound to 'Frisco. Only 14 hours! Never again. I'd like to put pictures of Droopy [the slow moving, lethargic cartoon dog character] over all Greyhounds. Sat next a fat lady - was more comfortable in the 4x4 box in the POW camp. Do you know what a California delicatessen is? A liquor store that sells potato chips. Also, there are many students. [The son drew or doodled a small picture of a long-haired, bearded student then known as a Hippie.]
Fehr arrived at Clark AFB in Luzon, on 10 December 1966. He boarded a military bus with mostly younger sailors who had never before been to the Far East. They were headed south pretty much following the trail of the infamous Bataan Death March. The bus was bound for San Miguel, and for some, a bit beyond to Subic Bay.
AG2 Fehr was an old 24 years, had been to the Far East and had seen plenty of poverty. The young kids' faces were glued to the bus windows, jaws dropped in disbelief of the squalor they were witnessing. People lived in open huts, no electricity, no sewage, just abject poverty.
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Everybody wore tattered rags. Then the bus would roll into the center of the village. Lo' and behold, there in the middle of a park-like setting was a stone structure reaching to the heavens. The Catholic Church. The bus lumbered on passed the endless fields of sugar cane, down the dusty road. About halfway to San Miguel, the bus pulled to a quick stop at a nondescript building simply called Midway. The occupants off loaded for a head call and Coca-Cola. Steve instead sucked down a couple quick San Miguels!
A snapshot found among the letters confirms that the AG also found time amid the brief stopover to pay a quick visit to the Sodom & Gomorrah of the Philippines - the bars of Olongapo. Years later, sin city would be covered in God-like wrath with volcanic ash erupting from Mt Pinatubo.