II. CALIFORNIA BOUND
On 4-5-43 our battalion boarded two trains for the west coast. After a five-day ride in a day coach and hardly enough to eat, we arrived at Port Hueneme, California, 50 miles north of Los Angeles, the naval embarkation point. They used two trains because of fear of sabotage, and, in addition, we were routed differently, as we traveled across the states. At chow time they would stop and connect onto two diner cars (all of which was planned ahead). Being afraid of someone deserting, we were not allowed off of the train for any exercise. We complained so much they, finally, let us off after four days, at Yuma, Arizona. All along we were confined to an assigned car with a guard at each end. Only officers or anyone with a pass was permitted to leave the car.
The following day we were given a fourteen day leave. I purchased a round-trip train ticket back to my home in Virginia to spend a few days there before going overseas, and then again back to California. My parents home was only 250 miles from Camp Peary where we had just left, and almost in sight of the railroad we traveled on. During the last 18 days I had crossed the United States three times from coast to coast by train, in day-coaches. It was surprising how they kept an eye on us going to California and then turned us loose for 14 days.
During the few days in California they gave us lectures on various subjects before going overseas, and issued our "pieces" (M1 Rifles) and other necessary items for a full pack. We went out on the rifle range for target practice a number of times to get the feel of our pieces. This was down my alley. With my score of 120 points out of a possible 125, I qualified for a sharp shooter immediately, but the Seabees did not recognize this accomplishment.
While there we went out of the camp area on a work detail crossing the road into the dock area. About the time we arrived there, I found it necessary to look for a head (rest-room). I asked permission from the Chief in charge to return across the road back into camp, and that was no problem. In starting back across the road I was halted by a marine guard who asked: "Where are you going?" I told him. He said, "You are not going to cross that road, you may start across but I am going to shoot you." I didn't start across, for he meant what he said. I went back to camp and sacked up.