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San Diego during wartime was a shock to me, coming from Dallas
where bright lights were everywhere. San Diego was dark--street
lights shone down only--they were painted over so that only a
sliver of light escaped. Car headlights were the same. Windows
were covered with black-out curtains that were kept closed at
night. After the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor, we were taking
no chances. So, whatever we did, we did in the daytime. Those
darkened nights were eerie.
Gasoline was rationed--how much you could get depended on what
you did for a living. Most got only three gallons a week.
Drivers had little signs on their sun visors "Is this trip
necessary?" In order to get more than three gallons, you had to
be using it for the war effort--everyone rode buses and
streetcars. You could buy a bus pass that was good for a whole
week for $1.00. Gasoline was not the only thing rationed--just
about everything was -- canned goods, canned milk, sugar, shoes
or anything else made of leather, meat, coffee. You heard very
few complaints about rationing, though. People were willing to
do without in order to help the war effort.
Silk hose (what we all wore before the war) went out with the
attack on Pearl Harbor. Nylons were brand new, but you could
never find any. We had to settle for leg make-up or rayon
hose. How I hated those rayon hose! Every time you sat down,
they stretched to fit your bent knee and the stretch didn't go
away when you got up. Short dresses became the style--they
used less material. The same for men's suits--narrower legs and
lapels. Slacks for women also became the style. Few women
wore them before the war, but defense jobs required them. Once
we got accustomed to wearing them, we didn't want to give them
up--and we haven't.
In Dallas, you didn't go downtown without a hat and gloves. In
San Diego, it didn't matter what you wore--Californians were
laid back, even then. How things have changed! Today I don't
even own a hat or gloves--except the kind to keep my hands warm
in cold weather. I really never did like wearing a hat, so not
having to was right down my alley.
Living in San Diego, the war seemed closer. I remember the
countless times when you could look up and see the sky black
with B-24's (Liberator Bombers) flying in formation--probably
to some battle front. Convoys of Marine vehicles and artillery
units that were miles long, came to San Diego to board ship. An
ammunition truck caught fire on Highway 101 near Camp Matthews
(where the University of California, San Diego campus is today).
The driver knew the truck was going to blow, so he ran from
house to house, knocking on doors to warn people to evacuate.
When it blew, it left a huge, deep hole in the highway, crossing
both lanes. What was Highway 101 then is now Interstate 5.
Camp Matthews was the Marine Corps Rifle Range.
Of course the blackout made the war even more real to those of
us who lived here. Convair Plant One on Pacific Highway was
covered with a huge camouflage net. From the air, it looked
like a barren hill. I don't remember Plant Two being
camouflaged, but I guess it was. The Marine Recruit Depot and
other military installations were painted in camouflage
patterns.
There were numerous clubs around San Diego--the College Inn and
Paris Inn, to name a couple. (Basil and I visited those after
the war.) There were two popular ballrooms--Pacific Square on
Pacific Highway and the Mission Beach Ballroom. They were
always crowded. Pacific Square had Bob Wills and his Texas
Playboys and most of the big-name bands. I never did get to
go to Pacific Square, but years later our American Legion Post
hired Lawrence Welk's orchestra to play for one of our dances at
the Mission Beach Ballroom.
There were so many service men in San Diego--the streets were a
sea of white and green hats. I never heard of one of them
getting into trouble, but I'm sure a few did. The servicemen of
World War II were a different breed from some of today's
servicemen. People then were very tolerant of servicemen
and their antics--everyone knew what they were doing for us. We
also knew that, for some of them, San Diego would be their last
taste of home. All that most of them wanted was to just be able
to talk to someone who was not wearing a uniform.
Bonnie and I spent some of our spare time at the Old Town USO,
playing card games like casino and cribbage with the marines and
sailors who came there. The USO's were a great help to a lot of
servicemen. Not all of them were interested in the drinking and
carousing that went on downtown. I don't think we ever saw the
same guy twice at the USO. Most were on their way to another
station. I guess none of them stayed anywere on this side
of the Pacific for very long.
Today, many San Diegans--and others all over the country, I
expect--have no conception of the sacrifices most servicemen
make just to be trained and ready to protect us in case of war.
Pearl Harbor has been forgotten--even the San Diego Union barely
mentions it on December 7th each year. This is something we
should NEVER forget. There is an old saying: Those who forget
history are doomed to relive it. There will come a time when
these men in our military will have to sacrifice their lives
again to protect us, so we should not make a fuss about the
noise their planes and helicopters make at Miramar and other air
bases. Those planes and helicopters are there for OUR
protection. If the military is not permitted to learn to use
those weapons, where will we be when a crisis occurs?
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