Author: Dave Rinehart 

This allows us to laugh at ourselves. This article is written strictly with that in mind. We are all human and were, at one time, young!

Experiences such as this one need shared along with our more dangerous lonely and stressful happenings. It’s all history now. The following is absolutely true. I didn’t know then nor do I know now who the “assail warrior” was or his lovely plump navy nurse. It’s the even that counts with its determined, well learned navy lesson of “NEVER” NEVER GIVE UP!

Our PBM 3/D was on the ramp at Garapan, Saipan for an engine check and a much needed bilge cleaning. Therefore, with CASU’s help, we removed the rear decking. In the bilge was 5-6 inches of filthy oily, smelling water at the bottom of the hill.

The Japanese were still a concern in Sept. of 44 so the turret guns were pointed toward the jungle and one air crewman was standing night watch, and earn as dammed and on duty on or near his plane. I believe there were 3 mariner squadrons at Saipan at that time, so the ramp area was crowded in the dark all of the planes blended together. Many planes had there ladders attached.

I pulled the 12-4 AM watch and was informed that “anyone falling asleep would help clean the bilge in the morning”. That was enough incentive for me to keep awake. It was a warm, sticky night so I eat along the edge of the jungle, leaning against a palm tree with the Thompson across my lap. In the distance I could hear soft dance music and laughter “fleeting” from the area of the officers club. I heard two people talking, giggling and slightly staggering coming toward the plane parking area. I could pick out the whips, clean white dress of a nurse and the other not hearing any Japanese accent proved to be an aviator with white clean dresses on his mind!

Now I’m faced with a decision as they neared the plane. Do I stand up and salute, cough, whistle or what? If it were me in a state of near conquest any interruption would be unwelcome and unappreciated. I’d probably tell the unexpected 3rd party to “bug-off”. So, I decided to mind my own business.

As they went slowly up the ladder, she was no light weight it became amusing as he tried to boost her with his shoulder. He huffed, puffed, cussed and only by bringing the full effort of his shoulders into the take, was he able to finally reach the top. With her straddling the hatch one leg in the plane and the other on the top rung he paused for a much needed rest.

I suppose my duty was to warn them of an impending “surprise”. But then again, I would never have known how a situation like this would turn out. Personal humor and laughter over took my conscience to the extent that I had to stuff my handkerchief in my mouth to muffle the sound of laughter. I eased itself back into the shadows and stood guard. Nothing nor anyone was going to interrupt this valiant effort.

On his last push she slipped into and down the planes interior grabbing his shirt and head as she went and pulled him in too. Both slipped down the side of the dirty hull and into the bilge. There was a lot of splashing, bumping, sloshing and quite a few cuss words were heard at this time.

I suppose this was not the dry, clean bunk she had been promised. However, after about 5 minutes of what sounded like a beginners swimming class with frequent loud instructions as to which direction to go, progress was made up and onto the decking under the “put-put” and on toward the middle bunk area of the PBM. Apparently something was found that served as towels and the night settled down into a period of well-earned bliss.

I was relieved at 4 AM, and decided not to tell the relief guard that the Navy was on board, with a friend. I’ve often wondered what took place if and when the new guard went on board, “Surprise, Surprise!” As a matter of fact I still chuckle at the thought of this episode.