"AND....NOT AN EYEBROW MOVED"

********************************** BY ROBERT STEBBINS Guest Post Writer **************************************************** "FROM THE HALLS OF MONTEZUMA..." ***************************************************         I had occasion to visit the San Diego airport last Monday evening to pick up my wife, who was returning home.  Her flight to San Diego was diverted to Los Angeles because of fog in San Diego so she was bussed from LAX to SAN, arriving home at about 2:30 A.M. Tuesday morning. But, that is another story.  The real story was that which I witnessed while waiting for her arrival.       Between terminals 1 and 2 there is an entrance to the United Service Organization (USO).  While walking between the two terminals, I noticed two white buses with large USMC emblems on the sides parked in front of the USO entrance.  Only then did I notice about 90 young men hurriedly boarding the buses, counting and shouting their number until reaching number 40 when the bus was full.  Only one drill instructor was present, fit and trim, about 6'2" and skinny as a rail, wearing the traditional Smokey The Bear cover. He was shouting instructions, soon left the group, and walked into the USO.       As I departed from the area to enter terminal 1, I noticed the "overflow" who had to wait for another bus to arrive.  Those remaining recruits were lined up, standing four abreast in  tight formation, faces, bodies, and eyes as if cast in concrete.  They were staring into space and focused directly ahead with not a twitch of a facial muscle nor an eyebrow moving even though the drill instructor was nowhere to be seen.  I think it occurred to them that their moment of truth and reality had just begun.      After I entered terminal 1, I noticed 2 or 3 groups of 5 or 6 young men smiling happily, meandered around the lobby, shoving one another, laughing and joking while carrying identical brown manila envelopes that obviously contained their enlistment records from the recruiting station. Apparently, they had a later reporting time and did not realize it at the moment, but they too were only a few steps from reality.      Anyway, it was fun to observe, and it jogged my memory some 60 years back to February of 1952 when I (at about 5'9" and 119 lbs. wringing wet) and approximately 200 more youngsters arrived at the Santa Fe Depot in San Diego on a Sunday.  After getting off of the train, there was on the train platform an old Navy Chief with gold stripes from his wrist to his shoulder who began shouting for everyone going to the Naval Training Center (NTC) to line up in formation.       After the NTC guys were assembled, they started to march off.  I and Charles Byrd (unknown to me before) shouted at the Chief that the two of us were going to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot.  The Chief said "get out of here" or something to that effect.  So, everyone else marched off and Byrd and I were left standing alone on the train platform.  Imaginatively, we walked over to a pay phone, put in a nickel or dime (I can't remember which) to call the Recruit Depot, and they sent a 3/4 ton pickup to pick us up.  Shortly thereafter, our reality began.       The reason that I recount this is because in this modern age when a lot of our daily lives and world events seem so confusing, last Monday evening was refreshing and enjoyable....at least to me as a bystander.  I had just witnessed a group of young men, all volunteers, who had decided to accept the challenge to become Marines and to serve our country.  I am hopeful that most, if not all, of them will make the grade and graduate as Marines in approximately three months.  I guarantee you that the moment of their graduation from boot camp will be the proudest moment in their lives.           Bob Stebbins, Guest Writer, CHS Class of '51