In-processing was quick and efficient but my security clearance still was being processed. Again, I would have to report to the petty detail unit every morning until my clearance came through. I might be moving earth, cleaning, or doing other make-work tasks for several months until I could perform the job for which I had been trained. Mowing grass, painting rocks, buffing floors and such was not a possibility, as we had none of these appointments. It would be 3 ½ months until security clearances came through for about six of us, all RTAs and RIOs. No linguists were awaiting their security clearance.

The tent to which I was assigned had eight bunks housing both Radio Traffic Analysts and Radio Intercept Operators or “ditty chasers”. One other tent separated us from the urinal which was simply a pipe stuck in the ground with a large funnel taped to the top, inside of the pipe. The funnel improved the hit rate to about 75% under ideal conditions. Being close to the urinal was certainly an advantage when Mother Nature called; but it was also a distinct disadvantage due to the constant traffic, the loud talking of drunken airmen in the middle of the night, and the distinct odor.

The floor of our tent alternated between dust and mud, sometimes with a rivulet, dependent on the weather. Magic red bricks would never be laid in our tent, which was another good reason to shove off for Taipei or Keelung when off-duty for a day or longer. Two bare light bulbs provided a dim glimmer of yellow light. There were enough lumens available to find a bunk in the dark, but other than that, the light served no useful purpose. Mold was so pervasive that each morning there would be a nasty green coating over our brogans. That problem was resolved by purchasing a wardrobe cabinet and installing a 100 watt light bulb in it to reduce the humidity level inside the cabinet. That solution worked very well. Four of us shared the cost and used the cabinet for our shoes and uniforms. Rolling up the sides of the tent provided needed air conditioning and an opportunity to watch the heavens.

Chinese laborers provided most of the heavy labor at the Air Station, but a severe shortage of personnel and heavy equipment left many jobs undone. The petty detail unit was assigned tasks such as digging ditches, moving items from the supply tents to where needed, inventorying supplies and performing a myriad of other jobs when asked.

Items stored in the supply tents, in particular C rations, were inventoried on a regular basis. They were designated M, C, I by the U.S. Army for meals, combat, individual. Hundreds of cases of rations dated 1943 and 1944 were stored in the supply tents. I vaguely remembered from basic training that the shelf life of C rations was five years. These rations exceeded their maximum shelf life by at least seven years. “That’s close enough for government work,“ was our attitude at this and other situations we faced where reality clashed with government requirements.

One C rations package held three meals. Each meal had a canned meat item, a dessert such as pears or a pecan roll, crackers or cookies with a cheese or jam spread, or candy and an accessory packet containing cigarettes, matches, chewing gum, coffee, et cetera. The pears were quite good, but the same could not be said for the meat item. Although C rations were designed to be eaten cold in the field they were much better, or at least more palatable, if the meat portion was served hot. The cigarettes were always Lucky Strike or Camels. After 12 or 13 years in storage they had become so dry that a lit cigarette would provide but two or three puffs to the smoker. The rush of nicotine from the dry tobacco leaves was so strong that one became light headed after only a puff or two.

On one occasion our petty detail was asked to carefully inspect a nearly useless rhombic antenna. It seems that this particular antenna was not performing to expectations. At first glance the troublesome antenna looked exactly like all the others. Even after a close technical inspection, no discrepancies were uncovered. One of the Radio Intercept Operators suggested we measure each side of the rhombic antenna and compare the lengths to the drawings. Eureka! One of the antenna’s poles had been installed in the wrong place making two of the sides nearly ten feet shorter than designed. After the Chinese laborers corrected the problem the antenna worked as designed.

I believe it was typhoon Ida that hit Lin Kou Air Station in early June 1955. It was impossible to escape the wrath of this huge storm or to keep our home, the eight-man tent, both water tight and erect. We knew the effects of the wind and rain on our tents could not be defeated, only delayed. However, a reward could be provided to the brave occupants of the tent that held out the longest. A game was born. Whoever wanted to participate in the game had to provide an entry fee of $8 for their tent ($1 per person). Officers, NCOs and support unit personnel were not asked to participate. The winner of the pot would be the occupants of that tent which withstood the fury of the storm the longest without either tearing or collapsing. A partial collapse or small tear eliminated that tent from the competition. It was a test of skill to keep the tension on the lines to the stakes just right. Too tight and the tent might tear or the stakes might be pulled out of the ground. Too loose and the tent might collapse. An interesting problem that the occupants of the tent I was in failed to solve. Water damage to our clothes, shoes and other possessions was severe. But, worst than that was the damage to the mess hall which delayed its opening for a short time.

In June, the mess hall finally opened, and for the remainder of my 15-month tour, the food served was the subject of many conversations. References to brownies used as door stops and scrambled eggs with a green cast to them were typical. The coffee was good, but that was the beginning and end of dining hall highlights. During those early days, the Lin Kou Mess Hall was not a serious entry for any kind of award, let alone the prestigious Hennessy Trophy. Watching the Chinese drivers make a cup of coffee for themselves at the mess hall was amusing. Their recipe, which was made in a coffee cup placed upon a saucer, was ½ cup of milk or cream, ½ cup of coffee and several tablespoons of sugar stirred gently until the taste suited their palate. This light brown drink would overflow the cup and fill most of the saucer. In addition to drinking this mix, they would also eat the rock hard brownies by either dipping one into their coffee concoction until it became soft, then biting off a chunk or immersing the entire brownie in the drink and allowing it to soak until mushy. Then they would then consume the soft, mucky residue with a large spoon. An enterprising approach, to say the least.

One day when I was in the Orderly Room, a Chinese woman, who turned out to be a local Madam, came into the tent with a large green ledger tucked under her arm. She asked me the way to the First Sergeant’s office. I pointed to his desk. The “First Stud” waved her in and politely asked how he could be of assistance. She quickly related to him that certain airmen from Lin Kou Air Station were using the services of her ladies with a “buy now, pay later” option. The Madam had dutifully entered the charges for these unpaid services in her ledger and now wanted to know how she could collect the debts. Some named entries were for airmen assigned to Detachment 1, but most were for Joe Smith or some other fictional character. It was all the First Sergeant could do to hold back his laughter, but he controlled himself very well. He informed the Madam that it was not appropriate to charge for “perishable products” and it is unlikely that she would ever collect any of the charges entered in her ledger. She was not happy with the answer, but left without any further discussion.

As the targets for Chinese Nationalist Army artillery practice were northwest of our encampment, 75 mm and 105mm howitzer shells, and large bore mortar shells fired from weapons located southeast of us would pass directly over our base. I was amazed that on a cloudless day with a bright blue sky I could actually see the 105mm rounds as they passed overhead. These rounds were easily identifiable as they came over at a high velocity in a relatively low, flat trajectory, and spun in a tight spiral. Due to their small size and trajectory, 75mm rounds could not be seen. Mortar rounds were hard to spot due to the parabolic arc of their trajectory. When a mortar round was spotted, it passed overhead at a relatively low velocity and tended to wobble. All of this was interesting until a “short round” found the range to our latrine. The good news is it happened on a weekend when most of the troops were in Taipei. Fortunately, no one was near the outhouse when the errant round found its target.

In the fall of 1955, the now infamous six-hole outhouse and pipe-in-the-ground-urinal were replaced with a new latrine. Now we had sinks, mirrors, showers and slow running water. However, this unheated latrine building came without hot, or even warm water or flush toilets. Our six-hole outhouse had simply been replaced by two four-hole benches that faced each other inside the new latrine. Beneath each toilet was half of a 55 gallon barrel fitted with two sturdy handles. Periodically, a Chinese “honey bucket” truck, which looked like a small gasoline tanker truck, would pull up to the latrine. The driver and a laborer would open an outside door for each toilet, pull out the smelly receptacle and suck its contents into the truck’s tank using a large diameter hose. This arrangement permitted us to rid ourselves of that smelly mess without having to do much of anything. Showers were still a problem unless you did not mind taking a tepid shower in the late afternoon after a warm day or a cold shower otherwise. Most of us bathed using only a wet, soaped washcloth. We would only wash ourselves from the waist up at a sink and then wait until our next trip to Taipei to get a nice hot shower or bath. Shaving, using tepid or cold water remained unpleasant.

Entertainment on the Hill was usually of our own making, as structured recreation had not yet found its way to the backwaters of Formosa. Typically, someone would make a suggestion. If enough people joined in and we had the needed equipment (movie projector, cards, truck, et cetera) a game or outing was possible. That is how an afternoon at the beach happened. Ten or twelve of us loaded into a deuce-and-a-half truck and drove down to the ocean on the west side of the Hill. On our way to the ocean front we were able to see three of the seven lines of defense that the Chinese Nationalists had established. The most imposing were the concrete bunkers built into the face of the cliffs overlooking the shoreline. They were built during the Japanese occupation. The first line of defense, which was nothing more than a series of fox holes and slit trenches dug into the beach above the high water mark on the beach, appeared much less formidable. Swimming in salt water was not that great, particularly after the salt water dried on our bodies. A jellyfish invasion into our swimming area curtailed all water activities as we did not know if the jellyfish posed a danger. After an hour or two we headed back to Lin Kou. En route we spotted a large field full of watermelon plants. Hundreds and hundreds of ripe melons were there for the taking. We liberated a dozen or so of the best for an unplanned party to be held as soon as we reached the base. As we were leaving the edge of the farmer’s field our 6x6 truck nearly got stuck in mud that was deeper than the height of the tires. When we finally returned to Lin Kou the liberated watermelons tasted even sweeter.

As I mentioned earlier, we did not have a movie theater. However, on rare occasions someone would improvise and set up a walk-in, outside movie theater. A movie projector would be positioned on a tall table inside a temporary cover which protected the equipment from the rain. The movie screen was simply some wide boards nailed to two posts. Seating was a convenient place on the ground or a rock. A poncho raincoat was a handy accessory as it usually rained during these surprise showings. The few movies we saw were old black and white flicks and were appreciated as they were the only entertainment provided to us on the Hill. This was an early indication that better things were in the making for the troops of Lin Kou.

Poker, pinochle and acey-deucy, also known as “between the sheets” were the card games of choice for lower ranking airmen.

Double deck pinochle, with all the 9’s removed, was our favorite card game as it could be played at a leisurely pace, and the competition tended to be friendly. Not only could a game be paused at any time and resumed later, the financial risk was low. Pinochle was played for 50 cents a game and a penny a point. A game ended only when your team both won the bid and your total score reached or exceeded 500 points. That set of rules made for some interesting games.

Acey-deucy could be an expensive game to play; it was up to the player. A 25 cent ante for each round was added to the pot that remained from previous rounds. Each player was dealt two cards face up. The player whose turn it was could bet against any portion of the pot, or decline to bet, that the next card turned face up by the dealer would be between the two cards he had. Aces were high. The best possible hand was an ace and a deuce. However, should another ace or deuce be turned up by the dealer when he was betting with this holding, he lost, as that card was not “between the sheets.” All money lost went into the pot. At times the size of the pot exceeded several months’ pay for any of the players.

Poker could prove to be very expensive. As we played dealer’s choice, many of the hands produced powerful holdings on which little was won or lost because of the plethora of wild cards. Frequently, the dealer would choose three or four card draw with no wild cards. We were playing three card draw with nothing wild when a hand for the ages was dealt to three of us. The ante for this round was 25 cents per player with no limit on the size of the bet or a raise, other than the sum total of bets and raises for that hand could not exceed a player’s “all in” amount. Side bets were permitted. There were five players at the table. After the initial deal two players threw in their cards. Each of the remaining three players kept four cards, drawing but a single card each. I had been dealt four tens and drew one card to make my opponents think I was either drawing to two pair or possibly a straight. The betting and raising reached unheard of levels. Even holding four tens, I was becoming increasingly apprehensive as the pot escalated in size until everyone was “all in.” Over $300 (about $2,000 in today’s money) was in the pot-- either in cash or IOU’s. The first player declared a full house, kings over jacks and began to pull in the pot. The second player said, “Not so fast!” and declared a full house of aces over queens. As he began pulling in the pot, I said, “I believe two pair of tens and tens is a better hand.” I could not resist making that silly and cutting comment. After I had pulled in the pot one of the big losers bought the deck of cards from me for $10. He promptly sat down and tore every single card in two. I knew I was not a good poker player and had simply gotten very, very lucky for one hand. I vowed to myself that never again would I play poker for big stakes, and I have kept that promise.

Communication with the outside world was poor on the best of days and non-existent otherwise. AFRS (Armed Forces Radio Service) transmitter signals did not reach the Hill and English print newspapers and magazines were not available for purchase at Lin Kou in the early days. Mail tended to be delivered to APO 63 in batches. Letters and packages sent by air mail might arrive in a week or ten days whereas, packages sent by ship might have been in transit for two or three months before reaching the recipient. Newspapers used for packing material in larger boxes tended to read more like a new history book than a current events document.

Enlisted personnel assigned to trick (shift) duty in the operations area worked a unique schedule that we called “The Navy Schedule.” This arduous arrangement, where one worked 24 hours in a 48 hour period of time, was preferred by most for one simple reason -- it maximized the amount of time off the Hill. Every 48 hour duty period was preceded and followed by a 48 hour off-duty period.

Typically, a new set of shifts started in front of the Club 63 at the MAAG compound in Taipei. Here, at about 1000 hours each morning, a 6x6 truck destined for Lin Kou Air Station would depart carrying four to eight passengers, mostly trick workers. The truck would arrive at the base early enough to allow one to check his mail, clean up from the dusty or wet ride up the mountain, change uniforms if necessary and grab lunch at the mess hall before starting the 1200 hours to 1700 hours afternoon shift. As a rule, trick workers arrived about 10 minutes early for shift change to determine what, if anything, was happening. The afternoon shift was followed by dinner at the mess hall, maybe a short card game or some socializing and 4-5 hours of sleep before reporting for the graveyard shift which ran from midnight to 0700 hours. After working a midnight shift, my internal clock was always confused. Sleeping during the day may not have been a problem for some, but it was for me. The swing shift, which came next, ran from 1700 hours to midnight followed by the morning shift which went from 0700 hours to noon. Shortly after finishing our set of shifts, we were off to Taipei for another two-day holiday.

Typhoons seemed to strike Formosa with regularity in 1955 and 1956. During my tour at Lin Kou, I believe we were hit by three or four of these fierce storms. When one struck, the best place to be in was a concrete building in Taipei or Keelung. Our location at the time the storm became dangerous was determined more by which trick we worked, rather than the weather report. During the summer of 1956 I was on-duty when a typhoon, heavily laden with rain, rolled over the mountain. Although the wind speed was probably only enough to make it a Category 1 typhoon, the storm surge and rain were devastating. The road to Detachment 1 was closed for two or maybe three days, which meant no relief for on-duty shift workers. We would have to make do with the airmen who were on the Hill before the storm washed out the road. This situation and an exceptionally high workload, caused the RTA shift I was on to work 56 hours straight before help arrived. When relief did come, my work partner, Norm Anstey, and I had a quick meal at the mess hall and then hit the sack. I remember talking with a lit Pall Mall cigarette wedged between two of my fingers close to my knuckles. I was fully clothed, wearing my fatigue hat and brogans. Thirteen hours later I awakened with a nasty burn on my hand from the burnt cigarette which was still stuck to my skin. Norm was still sleeping. A good pinochle game after a meal at the dining hall was all that was needed before I was ready to head out to Taipei.

Sometimes, late on a swing-shift or early on a mid-shift, if it was a quiet uneventful night, we would listen to a young English-speaking, Chinese woman broadcasting Communist propaganda from the mainland. We called her “Peking Polly.” Her message was constant and predictable -- Americans are in Formosa to murder the Chinese people, rape their women, and on and on. With contempt, she enjoyed called us “running dogs.” That term meant nothing to us. We ignored her nightly propaganda speech while awaiting the scores of baseball, basketball or football games just completed in the US. That broadcast was the most timely resource we had to hear how our favorite teams had done. Of course she gave all the soccer scores first. That was devious, as there were so many games to report and we had no interest in those results. Most of her broadcasts were devoted to playing music currently popular in the good old USA. That and the sports scores were what we wanted to hear.

Visits to the small dispensary were few and far between for most of the young, healthy troops working on the Hill. A flu epidemic hit the Air Station in the winter of 1955/1956 and provided many new visitors. The most frequent patients were a few regulars who had again become infected with some strain of venereal disease. The military is famous for its ability to use an “assembly line” solution to quickly address a problem. I witnessed that process when I was in the dispensary being treated for a painful carbuncle below my right eye. While I was waiting for treatment I saw three enlisted men in fatigues lined up side-by-side, with their backs to me, leaning forward with their hands placed on the edge of a table. Each had previously been instructed to “drop your trousers and shorts.” A doctor then injected each shiny behind with a penicillin shot for “the clap.” I felt all three would be back again as they acted like “it’s no big deal.” My carbuncle was lanced and bandaged that day: I still have a scar.

The fatigue uniform issued in basic training by the Air Force in 1954 was an ugly, one-piece, blue-green, ill-fitting sack that was disliked by nearly all enlisted men. At Lin Kou, unlike other bases, that problem could be solved. A common solution was to have the one-piece fatigue uniform tailored into an “Ike” jacket and a pair of trousers. The finishing touch was to have your first name or nickname, written in kanji, embroidered directly above the name tag over the right-hand pocket of the “Ike” jacket. This uniform was acceptable for wear on the Hill but would not make the trip when one left Lin Kou for another Air Force base.

Several hundred yards southwest of Lin Kou was the hamlet Shulinlin, where we could purchase the famous rubber boots worn by all airmen. The path to Shulinlin went through a large tea patch. Occasionally, while walking on this well worn path, Chinese women wearing coolie hats and covered entirely by dark work clothing could be seen picking tea leaves. Only their eyes were visible. We tried several times to take pictures of them at work but were admonished not do so as it would “capture their spirit.” We honored their request.

Close to the walking path were one or two large craters caused by errant 500 pound bombs dropped from USAAF B-24 or B-25 bomber aircraft during World War II. Japanese Army airfields in Formosa were bombed relentlessly during the last year of the war in preparation for a planned invasion. Avoiding these craters during daylight hours was easy. Nighttime presented more of a challenge, especially after a few too many drinks. A stealthy reentry to the Air Station after curfew or when the town was off-limits meant no flashlights and absolute silence. On occasion one us would stumble and fall into one of the craters. Crawling up and out of a bomb crater was not as easy as one would think.

The small town of Shulinlin was nothing more than a farm community built on an unpaved road. Only the bars and one or two retail stores were of any interest to the airmen. Many of the bar-girls working there were from mainland China, especially Shanghai. At that time, most of the girls lived in desperate poverty in Taipei or Keelung and made a living by working the bars in the current hot spots. The girls would stay on the Hill for a few days or weeks and then leave to work in Taipei or Keelung or visit their family. Each Chinese girl had a heart-wrenching story of their narrow escape from the mainland in 1949 when the Chinese Nationalist army was thrown out of China by the Communists. Some of the girls spoke enough English to carry on a limited conversation but most knew only a few words of English.

After-hours raids were mounted on occasion by US military authorities in an attempt to catch military personnel who were in town after curfew or when it was off-limits. However, we had a well established network of outlooks among the bar owners and working girls to keep us fully informed of any approaching danger within the town. We were never surprised by a raid. The danger spot was the tea patch, but that route could be covered easily if one was quiet, patient, observant, careful and selected an indirect route to the base.

Off-duty in Taipei