Guantanamo Bay, Cuba
1965-1967
In 1965 dad was stationed in Guantanamo Bay,
Cuba.
Funny, but I remember the smells the most. I remember the smell of
the tarred dirt road that led up to the stables where I first learned
how to ride horses.
I remember the oily deisel smell of the water down
at Pier November where the sailors taught us how to bait fishhooks
and bought us cans of Pepsi from the soda machine.
I remember the smell of the mangrove swamps we had to wade through to
get to "Lizard Island."
And the smell of the car the Shore Patrol (Navy police) were driving
us home in when they caught us looking for shells on the restricted
beach there! (Of course, when they realized our dad was the Naval
Executive Officer, they dropped us off and swore us to
secrecy!)
Then there was the smell of the salty ocean water we swam in (with
soldiers holding rifles behind the barbed wire fence on the cliff
above us.)
This is the view from our front yard in Gitmo. The
ferry boat was the only way to get to the windward side of the base,
where the airport was.
Here is a picture of my brother, Tom, with his first shark
catch. He caught it the same weekend that my dad hosted teh P.T.
reunion for Ron 34 at our house. (1966?)
This is my younger brother, George, with our gardener, Mr.
Cecil Brown. Mr. Brown was a huge hit with us kids. Not only did he
teach us how to climb coconut trees and open coconuts, but he had
seven fingers on each hand!!!