Looking Back: Surf, Bullets, Beer and Camaraderie

There are bygone eras and there are bygone eras. In ‘Old School’ Metro we had blocks of training down at Camp Pendleton USMC Base. We stayed Oceanside in the Officer’s B.O.Q. (Bachelor Officer’s Quarters for the uninitiated.) Some of us would strap surfboards to the Metro rides or throw them into the Chevy Suburbans and meet at Zero Dark Thirty at the Trestles gate to the base. A six pack of beer goes a long way with an 18 year old pimple-faced Marine standing guard over our Metro rides. The cruisers were never safer… never!!!! Off we’d go to Trestles to catch some tasty tubes before training. Out of the water off to Range 116 Alpha (The SEAL range which cost about six cases of Guinness Extra Stout on my part, which is precisely why I impose beer penalties for safety infractions or blatant stupidity or a combination of the two) and training commenced.

It was gun and run all day long with ample supplies of ammo and plenty of solid training. The shoot house, square range and 270 range where targets popped up from all angles and distances all day long. You could melt barrels by the end of a single run on the 270 and it was a hoot! On one day there were suddenly little sonic cracks right over our heads and then little tiny brush fires to our front. It was the SEAL snipers hidden in the hills behind us letting us know they were there and owned us lock-stock-and barrel, and they used tracer rounds to let us know where they were aiming. Most cool! We looked all day yet could never find them even as they were firing right over us from about 200 meters away. It’s good they’re on our side.

Following training it was back into the cruisers and off to the Officers beach for more tasty tubes, sun and beer. Then it was back to the B.O.Q. for workouts, dinner and then into Carlsbad for liquid debriefs at Giblins and Coyote’s. Average return hours to base, was around 0300 hrs. Roll call at 0700 hrs in the parking lot and back to the range for a repeat. This was a three-day evolution, so your ‘tally-wacker’ was most definitely in the dirt by the end, but at least you were sunburned, quenched and trained for the rigors of the LA streets.