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              NAS San Diego, 
                California 
                
             
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              Also known as "North Island" due to its 
                location in San diego Bay, this base was the nexus of operations 
                for the Pacific Theatre because it was the headquarters of the 
                Commander of the Naval Air Forces-Pacific as well as the Commander 
                of Fleet Air West Coast during the war. Virtually all 10,000 of 
                the Marine pilots passed through this base await assignment to 
                the squadron that would take them into combat. 
              The Marine Corps was expanding seemingly exponentially; 
                from no air wings, two air groups (an East Coast, "1st MAG" 
                and a West Coast, "2nd MAG"), and only nine squadrons 
                just before the declaration of war. Three years later, at its 
                peak, it had five wings, 31 groups, and 143 squadrons.  
              In the fourth week of September, 1942, a cadre of 
                18 enlisted men and its CO (commanding officer) Lt. Ralph Martin 
                arrived from MCAS Ewa, Hawaii (at least one of whom had been with 
                the squadron since Midway) to the new marine air base at the old 
                Goleta county airport to be the nucleus of a new VMF-222. Meanwhile 
                in North Island, the men who would become the flight echelon had 
                been gathering during the month.  
              Life was casual but boring during this time awaiting 
                assignment. The pilots flew their minimum amount of flyuing to 
                stay qualified, often in aircraft they had never flown before. 
                Pappy Reid managed to get three hours in a twin-engine A-29 "Hudson" 
                he had never before flown, or since. Fighter pilots of that era 
                were given monthly stipends, supposedely to cover their costs 
                in maintainig their gunnery costs. Billards and skeet shoting 
                were considered to be excellent sports to aide a pilot in deflection 
                shooting.  
              While at North Island, two future "Flying Deuces" 
                pilots were in the company of a future American icon: 
             
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              One “Pappy” encounters another “Pappy”
              During the month in San Diego awaiting assignment, 2nd Lt. 
                Reid was billeted at North Island Naval Base, across the bay from 
                the city and home of the fleet. He often went by navy launch over 
                to “main side” for after hours entertainment. The 
                caveat was that he and his fellow junior officers had to be back 
                at the town’s wharf opposite the navy base before midnight 
                to catch the last launch back. There was an early roll call every 
                morning and not to be there would be a black mark on your record. 
                What to do?  
              Just before midnight “Pappy” Reid and a group 
                of other pilots arrived at the designated embarkation point only 
                to see the last launch heading back to base full of other men. 
                 
                After many minutes of cussing and complaining, one of the group 
                stated that he couldn’t wait any longer. He stripped down 
                to his “skivvies,” handed his clothes to his buddies 
                and then dove into the black and frigid bay, swimming towards 
                the base about one half mile away. Marveling at the man’s 
                audacity, the others stood there trying to figure a more conventional 
                way back to the base. In about fifteen or twenty minutes the opposite 
                side of the bay where the fleet was anchored there arose a wall 
                of search lights and howling sirens. Minutes later San Diego police 
                showed up at the pier and inquired of the group of marines and 
                sailors if anyone saw some “Jap[anese] frogmen in the bay?” 
                 
              'No,' the stranded servicemen answered, 'we haven't seen 
                any 'Japanese' frogmen.' Satisfied, the cops got back into their 
                patrol car and left to search else wares. Soon after the police 
                departed the 'not-a-Japanese-frogman' pops up near them and the 
                men help him up to the pier. The swimmer stated that he was swimming 
                up to a battleship when a sentry must have spotted him so he turned 
                around. A dividend of all the excitement was that a navy launch 
                arrived soon after and took them back to the base. On the way 
                back “Pappy” Reid asked one of the swimmer’s 
                buddies he was. ‘Oh he’s Greg Boyington, “Pappy” 
                Boyington, back from China flying with the Flying Tigers.' 
                - conversation with Lt. Col. W. O. "Pappy" Reid, USMC-Ret 
             
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              From the unpublished memoir of Robert W. Wilson- 
              Of interest, we came in to muster one morning at 
                8:00 and an older fellow was standing there as a First Lt. The 
                next morning at 8:00 muster, the same man was a Captain. The very 
                next morning, the same man was a Major. It turned out to be Greg 
                “Pappy” Boyington. Of course, he had been a Marine 
                officer several years, was in China when they were fighting Japan. 
                Then, when Chennault started up the “Flying Tigers” 
                he had an opportunity to join and did so by putting his commission 
                on ice in the Marine Corps. 
              Then, when the Japs hit Pearl Harbor, he returned 
                to the U, S, Marine Corps, but he had to begin with his old rank, 
                and move up one day at a tome. He eventually was commanding officer 
                of that: squadron, VMF 214 -called "Black Sheep" squadron, 
                which was later used as the title of a TV series. When we were 
                later stationed on Vella La Vella Island in the fall of 1943. 
                Pappy Boyington was there and made his many "kills" 
                and was, himself, shot down and became a prisoner of the Japanese. 
                Everyone thought he was dead and he was awarded the Congressional 
                Medal of Honor posthumously. When the war was over, Pappy showed 
                up. He was the kind of a guy you couldn't get along with in peacetime, 
                and can't get: along without in wartime 
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