I was stationed in the torpedo shop at Emirau when the word was passed that the ''old man'' wanted to see me. So post haste I presented myself and was told that there was a plane leaving for Guadacanal in a 1/2 hour and if I could be ready my orders would be cut and waiting to return to the States. I dashed back to the shop, which was also my home away from home ( I seemed to always live in torpedo shops) and threw a gallon can of ''trading material'', a change of skivvies, my other pair of trousers and a shirt into an old ''exploder'' box which I used as a sea chest ( as of today it stores pictures, etc.) and hi tailed it to the air strip, orders in hand and caught the plane.

I ''hitch hiked '' back to the States, catching a ride as space was available, on what ever was going in the direction you deemed the best and fastest. At every stop, you left a copy of your orders and they signed your master set. I spent a couple of days on Guadacanal at the ''Hotel de Gink'', played a little poker and ate some real honest to god cucumbers in vinegar, a long forgotten luxury. Then caught a flight to Pearl Harbor and a couple days processing, to 'Frisco and then to Portland Or. where my folks both worked in the ship yards for Henry J.

After spending my thirty days leave plus travel time in Portland Oregon I headed east to Melville and assignment to Instructors School at Bainbridge MD.Then it was back to Melville and the torpedo shop where I became an instructor until wars end. Then M.A. Phillips, Chief DeVries and I were assigned as caretakers and watchmen of the torpedo shop and it's contents.

It was while taking leave from my duties as an instructor at the torpedo shop and headed for Portland that the paperboy came aboard the train in Boise Idaho with the news of VICTORY in the Pacific. The next stop of the train was to be in Nyssa Oregon a town where my dad had homesteaded before the war. So being some what familiar with the town, and being assured by the conductor that the train would be there for a half hour, I got off to visit the local ''spirits'' store to obtain the necessary ingredients for a celebration, alas I had just steped inside the store when the train announced its departure. Needless to say, I never made Portland but spent my few days leave in Nyssa. Where incidentally, on VJ Day I met my future bride who was born and raised on a ranch in the Nyssa area.

Upon return to Melville and the aformentioned duties as a caretaker I parted company with the Navy via the ''ruptured duck" routine and returned to Nyssa, where in a year or so Pat and I got married on the 2nd of July, 1947 and after a short stint as a farmer, we departed the area and returned to the coast and Powers where I became a gypo log trucker and then a gypo logger. My vocation until being ''owled'' a few years ago and so now I watch the ebbing tides from my front room or porch and let the world march on.

How did I get from Powers, the known center of the universe, to Coos Bay ? Glad you asked. It seems that the wife Pat decided to return to college and South Western Community College in Coos Bay was the closest. So being ever resourcful, her and the girls proceded to move to Coos Bay where she enrolled in SWOC and the girls were enrolled in Coos Catholic, followed with enrollment in the North Bend School system. After Pat graduated from SWOCC and the girls from high school we moved to a ranch on the Coquille river. We sold the ranch (caused by the spotted owl environmental kooks) and the two of us settled into retirement here in Coos Bay, at least it is relatively close to the known center of the universe.