Diane Stark (McConnell) Sanfilippo
Chapter 64 Paradise and More
It took very little time to find our few pieces of
luggage partially because we did not have the matched
sets like the other passengers, just bits and pieces
that we had picked up here and there, or already had
before we were married. While Chuck and Billy handled
the luggage, Michael stayed close to my side as if
awed by the entire day. With Billy in the front seat
with his new commanding officer, the children and I in
the back, Chuck wanted to show us downtown Honolulu,
so we turned right out of the port instead of turning
left towards the North Shore.
I was surprised to see that the roads leading into and
out of the city were four lanes, although with
relatively little traffic, yet it was a bit early for
‘rush hour’ although I was sure it was nothing compared
to the mainland. Chuck pointed our the huge Moana Loa
shopping mall on the left and said that there was a
Sears, a J.C. Penney’s, and other mainland stores there,
which was nice to know in case we needed items for our
new home that we could not find in the P.X. Other than
the palm trees and the ocean just barely in sight behind
the high-rise luxury hotels, Honolulu seemed almost like
any other big city, with the exception that people were
more casually dressed. It took only a few minutes before
we were able to recognize the tourists since the men were dressed in the most outrageous, garish, Polynesian printed shirts while the ladies would be wearing a traditional Hawaiian, loose fitting, ‘muumuu’ with high heel sandals and tons of jewelry. The dresses, while they appeared to be wonderfully comfortable, made everyone look pregnant, but the loose folds of fabric would suit me to a‘t’ while I was working on getting my pre-pregnancy figure back. Frankly, I could not wait to get some of my own to wear around the house since they looked cool which was the original purpose behind the design.
The fact that we did not see many Hawaiians, but a large
number of Japanese, did seem strange, at first, but I had
read James Michener’s ‘Hawaii’ before we left Columbus,
so knew the history behind the potpourri of races on the
island. Soon, Chuck pulled into a parking space facing the
ocean just off the main road, which we learned was called
‘Kam Highway’ or officially ‘King Kamehameha Highway’,
named after Hawaii’s most famous king.
“Well, there is the famous Wakiki Beach!” Chuck said, as we
all got out of the car and walked down towards the water. I
could not believe that this postage stamp-sized tract of
sand was the beach I had read so much about in books and
travel brochures! Where were the huge waves? Before I could
even mention the fact, Chuck told us that there was a lack
of surf here because there was a huge stone shark barrier
built just below the surface so that the tourists were not
surprised by these predatory monsters.
“Not good for business,” he said, “If tourists start
disappearing or losing arms and legs from sharks.”
The beach was not very crowded, but Chuck explained that
almost anyone who wanted to try surfing or sailing had to
go over to one of the natural beaches on the North Shore,
like Wiamea Bay and Sunset Beach, or to Kaneohe Bay to our
west, or windward, in the language of those who lived here.
Curious about the sharks, I asked if there really was
something to be worried about, and he told us that
sometimes the shark sightings were so common during certain
seasons that the Marines had a helicopter that flew over
all the beaches. When a shark was near the beaches, they
sounded a loud horn and hung a huge sign over the side of
the chopper reading ‘SHARK’. That was all, just ‘SHARK’,
but that usually was enough to clear the water of the more
intelligent tourists and of course the natives, because
several surfers had been lost to these ever trolling,
hungry carnivores.
Billy then mentioned that we would like to live on the water
if we could not find quarters; Chuck assured us that there
were no quarters available since he had checked that out
first when he heard that we were coming, but he noted that
living on the beach was very expensive, just as I had
expected. Most of the soldiers that could not live on post,
lived in Wahiawa, which was the closest town to Schofield
Barracks, but Billy was insistent that he was going to try
to find a beach house first.
Chuck had found out that Rusty and Trish, who were now in
Wahiawa in temporary housing, had been our neighbors at Ft.
Benning, so he had arranged for us to stay in the same
temporary apartments until we could find something more
suitable. Housing was scarce and expensive on an island
that had no place to grow but up, and beach property the
most sought after with multi-million dollar mansions in
and around the Honolulu area, mostly sited near Diamond
Head. Well we had only wished that we could find something
on the beach, no matter how humble, but I did not have my
heart set on it as much as Billy did, and I knew that if
he could find a house on the beach, wherever it was, he
would rent it, regardless of the condition.
As we turned around in the parking lot at Waikiki Beach,
Chuck pointed out any buildings that might be of interest.
Just past the terminal, we saw Pearl Harbor to our left,
or at least the Shore Patrol on duty at the main gate,
but this was one of the first places on our list of
‘things to see’. North of Pearl Harbor on the right side
of the highway was the large Army Hospital that served
all services on the island, although Chuck said that the
clinics at Schofield would meet most of our needs, and
that others who lived further out, when having to be in
the hospital, used the local one at Wahiawa. Traffic was
a bit thicker now since most offices were closing for the
day, and civilian and military alike came streaming out
of the bases along the waterfront to go to either their
quarters or to their homes. I did not think that I would
want to come down here with the children by myself and
hoped that we could find almost everything that we needed
on post, although Chuck told us that the P.X. at Pearl
carried a much larger supply of almost everything than
the one at Schofield. The ride to the Barracks was
unremarkable, but I did notice that houses seemed built
practically on top of each other, and that backyards
adjoined backyard, and all were very small – just about
large enough for a clothesline, and that was it! What
would I do for a play space for my energetic son?
About half an hour later, we turned left into Schofield
Barracks, and I found myself impressed by the size of
the post, and particularly the low-slung houses with
slatted windows and large porches to catch the breeze.
The grounds were impressively planted with all types
of tropical plants and palm trees, and the grass on
the lawns and parade fields were thick and lush. This
was a beautiful place to live and to raise a family,
and I hoped that quarters would become available soon.
I had enjoyed living on base the one time that we did
when my father was on active duty and teaching at The
Navy Mine Warfare School in Yorktown, Virginia. Each
post or base is its own little city with theatres,
swimming pools, commissary, officers and NCO clubs,
churches, nursery, schools, etc., and it was not often
that we had to leave post to go shopping except for
some special occasion, like ‘Back to School’, and
other holiday sales. Everyone knew everyone and my
best friend Sharon and I used to sneak into the
commissary, where her father was the officer in
command, and he would give us a bag full of choice
cherries or other fruit or candy, more to get rid
of us. We went roller-skating on the tennis courts
just across the street and behind ‘Officer’s Circle’,
we rode our bikes without fear of traffic, and went
to the theatre where admission was seven cents! Yes,
I would enjoy that kind of life again, especially for
the children, if we were going to be here for any length
of time. I knew though, that when the 25th Division left
for Vietnam, most of the families would go back to the
mainland, and I hoped then that with so many empty
quarters that we could possibly stay on post, but I was
getting ahead of myself.
Chuck and Bunny’s rambling wood house was almost across
the street from the beautiful low-slung stucco covered
Officer’s Club. It was an old house, but well maintained,
and the lawn was thick and green with sidewalks parallel
to the road, which had a canopy of tree branches. This
was an ideal playground for children to play safely, and,
as on all Army posts, the speed limit was very low and
very much observed. I refused to let my heart become set
on finding quarters since Chuck had already said that
there was none available, although he had put our name
on the very long waiting list. We knew that we could
always be ‘bumped’ by a senior officer, so the chances
were slim to none that we would ever live here.
I was so tired my legs still felt like rubber, and I
almost collapsed on their overstuffed sofa after Chuck
introduced us to his wife, Bunny, and his two sons. Soon
after exchanging greetings where Bunny was particularly
attentive to our baby girl, she went into the kitchen to
put the final touches on the meal she had prepared. Michael
and Chuck’s oldest son were close to the same age, so they
hit it off immediately, and soon were happily playing cars
on the living room rug. Billy dug through the diaper bag
and found the baby’s dish, and took it into the kitchen to
prepare Margie’s supper. We would have an uninterrupted
meal if we fed her first, and since I was overdue nursing,
my breasts ached and were beginning to leak, but so far,
she had not uttered a sound other than to coo and smile
especially when Chuck made over her. She already seemed to
be far more responsive to men than women, but she was going
to be a heartbreaker, and I knew that before she settled
down, like her mother, she would leave many a broken heart
in her wake. I offered to help Bunny in the kitchen, but
she refused by telling me to take care of the baby, and
while I fed rice cereal and fruit to a obviously hungry
little girl we talked about Army life and life in general.
It never failed to fascinate me how Margie’s little mouth
opened like a baby bird in anticipation of the spoon
nearing her lips, and unlike Michael, I did not have to
scoop and scoop the food off her chin back into her tiny
mouth a dozen times. She had this eating thing down pat,
and was not about to lose a drop! When I finished I asked
Bunny where I could nurse in private, and she was surprised
that I was nursing.
“This will be difficult when we have functions, won’t it?”
she asked, and I explained to her that it would be more
difficult than she could possibly imagine since Margie would
not take anything from a bottle except for juice!
“Well”, she said, “I would imagine that you could take her
most places, except for formal functions at the club, and
then you could just leave her here and come nurse her
when its time.”
I thanked her for her very generous offer and her
understanding, and followed her as she led me to their
bedroom. As she quietly closed the door, I told her that I
would probably be taking her up on her offer if we had any
official functions, and she then told me the ‘Punchbowl
Ceremony’ was coming up soon.
This was a ‘mandatory’ attendance reception since it was
traditional, and celebrated the battalion’s victory
during the Boxer Rebellion in China. The commanding
officer had been given a magnificent silver punchbowl by
the officials of Peking, and during this function, each
officer, going by highest rank, down, drank from the
bowl amid rounds of toasts, the last to the ladies, and
then each officer would join his ‘lady’ and give her
the last swallow of the punch. It all sounded wonderfully
time-honored, and I knew that I would have to find a new
formal gown since I doubted if I would lose my ‘baby fat’
before the function, and my breasts had quadrupled in
size since I had to wear a thick pad not to leak on my
clothing. Thank goodness, we had seen a Sears’s store!
By the time, I rejoined the others I no longer even
remembered the Punchbowl Ceremony, another of the
annoying traits that I had developed with my after-
birth fog since usually my memory was exceptional.
Chuck and Billy were engaged in conversation as if
they had been life-long friends, but I knew, and
Billy knew, that above all, Chuck was his commanding
officer. I think that both realized during this first
evening that they would not have any problems working
together. Chuck was a West Point graduate with the
usual high ideals, expectations, and military
leadership skills found among most of these
officers, the ‘top of the heap’ in the Army, or
‘the long gray line’. Chuck had also heard about
the reputation of the North Georgia College
officers, and Billy was going to make sure that
he upheld the status of his alma mater. So many
times, I had heard that the best a Battalion
Commander could ask for was a West Point
officer as Company Commander and a North Georgia
officer as a Platoon Leader; such was the
reputation of the small group of officers who
graduated from NGC. Funny, now that I think
about it, I never heard mention of the
reputations of officers from the other three
prestigious, all male, Southern military
schools, The Citadel, Texas A&M, and The
Virginia Military Institute, which I am sure
have also turned out their share of fine
officers. Then again, maybe the story put
whichever school the listener represented in
the North Georgia position, and I am sure it
is quite a subjective, personal opinion at its
best. In the long run, it is the caliber of the
man along with his background and training.
However, I knew that Chuck would be hard pressed
to find anyone that was more dedicated a soldier
than was my handsome husband, and I knew that I
would often find myself fighting resentment of
the time that Billy spent on duty. I always had
and always will, since I am a woman who likes to
have my man with me. I do not share well, not
with any rival, to include the United States Army.
As Bunny called us to dinner, my main concern was
not how Billy and Chuck would function together as
a team, but more immediate of how and if Billy
would eat what Bunny had prepared. Since we had
never met, she could not possibly know of Billy’s
peculiarities about food, so I held my breath as
we sat down to the table and the covered dishes
because I knew that no matter how much Billy
wanted to impress his new commanding officer,
he still would not eat certain foods. We bowed
our heads while Chuck said a blessing and gave
thanks that we had arrived safely, and then he
picked up the first dish, uncovered it, and
began dishing it onto his plate. I doubt if
anyone at the table realized that I was
holding my breath as each dish was uncovered,
but thankfully, and for the life of me I do
not remember what we ate, Billy did not find
but one dish objectionable, and he simply
passed it on to me. All of the little boys,
who had been playing together quietly, were
very well-behaved at the table, and I thought
that perhaps those five nights on the ship,
and all the restaurant meals on the way to
the west coast had been good practice for
Michael, who looked like he was about to
fall asleep at the table. The meal must
have passed uneventfully or I would have
remembered otherwise, and before long, we
were standing on the front steps of the
quarters and thanking Bunny for her
hospitality while Chuck went to get the
car to take us to our temporary quarters
in Wahiawa. He had also arranged for
another officer in the company who
lived in Wahiawa to give Billy a ride
into Schofield until our Billy could
pick up the car.
I was so tired that I did not think that
I would care where we stayed that night, but
was not quite expecting the bleak motel-looking
building where Chuck stopped, almost identical,
but older, than the one in San Pedro. To make
matters worse, our unit was on the second
floor with very steep, rickety metal stairs to
climb, and I could not imagine doing so while
carrying Margie, or even allowing Michael to
climb them without holding an adult’s hand.
There was a bright side though since Trish and
Rusty were staying here too; so familiar faces
would help my rapidly declining enthusiasm for
paradise. Perhaps too I was just exhausted, and
although during the voyage, the clocks kept up
with the changing time zones, I seemed to have
a bit of a ‘jet lag’ too. The warm night air
seemed to have revived Michael and he was
excited to see Elizabeth, and of course was too
young to realize how unusual this meeting was in
his father’s chosen profession. Rusty helped
Billy and Chuck carry our luggage up the steps
while I stayed downstairs and visited with Trish
who was very pregnant by now. Feeling as tired as
I did, I wanted Billy to carry our daughter up
while I held onto Michael’s hand, but for the
moment those stairs might as well have been the
steps to the Eiffel Tower in Paris. I simply
could not climb them.
Chuck said his good-byes and Billy followed
Rusty into their apartment to find me. I knew he
had to be tired too, so we only visited about ten
more minutes before saying good night. Since this
was a weekend, before we went upstairs, Billy and
Rusty made a ‘date’ to go house hunting first
thing in the morning, leaving Trish, the children
and me behind. That was typical Rusty though,
because if Billy had been making the arrangements
and he had his car, then he would have included
all of us. Truly, this time it was of no matter
since I was too tired anyway, and glad that the
next day was Sunday and I could sleep-in, well as
long as the children allowed me. Upstairs, was,
of course, identical to Trish’s rooms, no more
bleak, no more worn, but at this point, all that
mattered to me was a clean bed and hot water!
This night, we performed our duties just as we
did when we were on the road, and while I bathed
Margie in the tiny kitchen sink, Billy bathed
Michael in the bathtub.
After settling the children down for the night,
Billy slowly undressed me as if I were incapable
of doing it for myself, and I doubt if I was, I
was that tired. He was not going to miss taking our
first shower together for five days regardless of
the hour, or our weariness, and with my legs still
feeling as if I were aboard ship, we bathed each
other as we always had. Since our showers were always
a preamble to making love, I knew that he would not
hear the word ‘no’ tonight; neither would I have
denied him, even though I was almost catatonic.
Certainly, there would be no refusals coming from my
lips, simply because I never knew how long I would have
him with me, and I could only imagine that after six
months in Vietnam, he would be ravenous for my body! We
were never apart any longer than the last six weeks of
his Ranger training, and even though we had that one
night while they passed through Benning on their way to
Florida, it had seemed like six months. There was no
place that I felt happier or safer than in my darling
Billy’s arms, and if he wanted to be with me, I could
even overcome my overwhelming tiredness for his love. I
loved him that much, and even more.
The days in our rather squalid rooms in Wahiawa passed
slowly, and I remember very little of the time except
the sheer boredom. There was no place for the children to
play except a dangerous blacktop parking lot, so Trish
and I took turns having Elizabeth and Michael in our
apartments so that the other could have a rare afternoon
nap, or read a book, or just have a few moments to rest.
Since Trish was such a tiny girl, her pregnancy seemed
further along than she really was, and she was huge. I
could not help but feel sorry for her, and I did not
know how she would be able to hold much more baby,
although she still had a couple of months to go. We both
needed the respite that the other could provide by
keeping the two children together, and fortunately they
picked up where they had left off at Benning and still
played together as if they had never been separated.
During the time we lived in Wahiawa, we met Russ, the
other lieutenant in ‘C’ Company, who was giving Billy a
ride to Schofield, and his wife, Linda. They did not
have children together yet, but Russ had three sons
from a previous marriage, although they were not
living with him. Linda was much younger than Russ who
had been a N.C.O. before going to O.C.S. and earning
his commission. She was a tiny Southern girl from
South Carolina, quiet and very polite, so we had a lot
in common and made friends instantly. She particularly
loved playing with the baby, although Michael had his
share of attention too, and often we would go over to
their quarters to share a meal, or just to pass time
where Michael could play outside in the sunshine and
grass. They had rented a cute little house in Wahiawa
with a small patch of grassy yard where Michael could
run off some of his energy, which now appeared to be
enormous after the weeks of being so cooped up –
first in the car, then the motel room in San Pedro,
the ship, and now the small apartment. The houses in
the town seemed rather flimsy, made of wood with no
insulation or air-conditioning, but so far, I had not
felt the need for it except at our temporary quarters
surrounded by black asphalt. Yards were very small,
even smaller than the houses, with the price of land
at a premium. Also with the build up of troops at the
post, it was difficult to find any place to live at
all, so most took what they could find and did not
bother to stray far from Schofield. I do not remember
if there was a rule about the maximum distance an
officer could live from post, but there would be
exercises when the troops would practice deployment,
and within a certain amount of time all had to be
ready to board trucks headed out to Pearl Harbor
where the ships would we waiting.
Of course, I did not know about this yet, but that
might have been a factor in deciding the
circumference from the post where Billy and Rusty
had to concentrate on finding a house. I wondered
too what would happen if they found only one house,
and I doubted if Rusty would offer it to Billy first,
and then look further, but so far they had not found
anything at all. Reluctantly, they had decided not
to try to look at the beach area since the rents in
Wahiawa were at the very limit of our quarter’s
allowance, and as usual, the locals knew exactly what
the officers made, and how much they could charge.
Trish and I both were beginning to weary of the
cramped living conditions at the temporary quarters,
and she definitely needed a settled ‘home’ before the
baby was born so with our blessings, the men went
searching as often as possible. At this point,
neither Trish nor I cared what they found, or where,
we just wanted to be able to make our nests a home
again, and that certainly was impossible in such a
temporary situation. I just could not imagine that we
would have to stay here, and neither could Billy
since he wanted his family where our son could enjoy
being outside, and where he did not have to worry all
day that one or all of us would fall down those
rickety stairs. He only wanted the best for his
family, and he tried hard to go house hunting each
evening when he got home, but the first days of
adjusting to his new position was a challenge,
although he was well prepared for this assignment,
and had been looking forward to a position of
leadership since we left North Georgia. Unfortunately,
Russ had decided that he did not want to step backwards
from acting Executive Officer, but Billy had date of
rank on him, so Russ transferred to Headquarters
Company, leaving C. Company with just two functioning
officers, Billy and Chuck. I had no idea what dreadful
ramifications would come of what I now consider a
selfish act, but I did know that Billy would be
spending long hours at the barracks, although Chuck
would not have asked of him what he, himself, was not
prepared to do. If anything, Chuck spent many more
hours there, but then again he lived within walking
distance.
I had no idea that circumstances had just begun to
spiral out of control and lead to tragedy, and even
if I had, I am not sure what I could have done, but
I certainly would have done something! Anything to
avoid what would soon become my worst nightmare!
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