Peter Leibert's Page

FAWTUPac

 

FAWTUPac

At my assignment at the Fleet All Weather Training Unit - Pacific (FAWTUPac) our barracks was a two-story structure with no glass windows. The lower part of each deck was louvered and the upper half was screened in. There were rolls of canvas that could be rolled down to keep the water out in case of a major storm. In the center section of the building was the entrance, and the duty office, as well as the toilet and shower facilities.

Each wing was a typical dormitory room which held four rows of double-tiered bunks. The room contained 80 of these bunks, enough for 160 guys in each wing. Between each bunk was a storage cabinet where you kept your life’s belongings. I was assigned a top bunk about six or seven rows from the entrance and that was my home base for the next 19 months.

FAWTUPac was a training squadron which had many different types of planes containing a lot of different types of electronic boxes. I do not think that any piece of equipment was common with what I was trained on in preparation for the patrol bomber PB4Y2’s of VP25. Perhaps they each carried the APN-1 altimeter, and the ARN-1 receiver. FAWTU mainly trained pilots how to fly fighter planes using RADAR for navigation and bombing. They also trained the associated crew members.

The squadron consisted of six different types of planes. There were ten SNB’s - a twin-engine Scout-Trainer made by Beech Aircraft. I think it actually had the nickname of Navigator, but we referred to it as the Beechcraft. We had twelve F6F’s - a Fighter made by Grumman Aircraft and nicknamed the Hellcat; twelve F4U’s - a Fighter built by Chance Vought and nicknamed the Corsair; twelve AD’s - an Attack plane made by Douglas and nicknamed the Skyraider; twelve TBM’s - a Torpedo-Bomber made by General Motors and nicknamed the Avenger, and then four F7F’s - a twin-engined Tigercat Fighter which was built by Grumman.

We did have half of a hanger assigned to us, but it was mostly used for performing heavy duty work on the planes, such as changing an engine. The normal parking location was outside - a row of Beechcrafts in front, next were the Hellcats, then the Corsairs, the fourth row were the Avengers, and bringing up the rear were the Skyraiders. Along the side of the parking area were the four F7F Tigercats.

Off to the west of our planes and the hanger was the Electronics Shop where I was assigned. My duties became that of working directly with the planes on the line. There were about 60 technicians in the electronic section, but only five or six that worked the line. Our day started by loading a tool box into a jeep and heading out to the flight line where you would check out (preflight) each of the planes assigned to you. This meant that we were to make sure their radios, radars, and any other electronic equipment were working correctly.

We had a lot of planes and although their electronics were somewhat common to one another, there were differences between the plane types and you had to know how operate them all, and how to fix them when they did not operate correctly. This is when I started writing my little black book. It was a book designed out of necessity.

My little black book was loose leafed. One by one, I would spend some of my time pouring over the tech manuals for each aircraft and equipment. In simplified form, I would write down into my book how to operate the equipment as a system. Then I would take each black box, define its mechanical and electrical interface, and would include other aids for me to be able to determine if that black box was the one that was bad. A black box is the same as a replaceable unit, something that could fail and would mechanically have to be replaced in order to get the aircraft’s electronic systems all working correctly again.

All of this effort was to enable me to quickly figure out which of the 15 or 20 black boxes on any one plane could be causing a problem. First, I would have to operate the equipment and find a problem, then I followed the procedures I had written in order to isolate the faulty box, then I could remove the problem box, replace it with a good one, and get that plane ready to fly before the pilot got there for an early morning flight. I could do the removal/replacement fast if I was sure which box was defective.

After a few months there, I had expanded and improved my little black book to be a very useful tool. Soon all of our FAWTUPac electronicsmen that were working on the flight line had copies and were using the information themselves.

During the early period in my new squadron, we were working tropical hours. This meant that the normal work day was the six straight hours between 7 am and 1 pm. Then we were off for the day. No time off for breaks or lunch. This meant that we had a lot of free time for ourselves. For the guys that worked the flight line checkout, we actually began our day an hour or more earlier, so on most days our work was done by noon or thereabouts.

So when I saw this ad on our barracks bulletin board regarding the need for a person to run the Barbers Point Golf Driving Range during the hours of two through six pm, I jumped at the chance to make a few extra bucks. Those extra bucks weren’t that great by today’s standards, but during 1950 one dollar an hour was big money - at least to me during that time.

The work turned out to be very easy. I had to be at the range during the hours of 2 pm through 6 pm and sell a bucket of balls for 10 cents per bucket. I did not have to mow the grass - the prisoners from the brig would do that. I did not have to pick up the balls - the prisoners from the brig would do that. I would have at my disposal a three-wheeled motor scooter for transportation. And for this job I would report to the Marine Captain in charge of security. I also would be paid in cash each week. And I could hit all the balls I wanted.

And over the next year, I did hit a lot of golf balls. Many a day I would almost run out of balls by 6 pm. There were times when I would even spend a few minutes picking up balls so I did not run out. But this job did have one drawback. The mess hall, which was about 1 mile away from the golf driving range closed its doors at 6 pm sharp and I mean sharp. I would always try to start to close up the golf shed about ten minutes before six, but as soon as I would get everything put away and lock the door, up would drive some golfer who just had to drive some balls.Being the nice guy I was, I would reopen the place and get a can of balls out, get his money, and close up the shed again. By the time I raced to the mess hall it was often too late. I mean six o’clock SHARP!

One thing I did not mention was that I received a lot of advice from my customers. “You are lowering your shoulder during your swing - keep that shoulder up.” “Keep your eye on the ball. Don’t worry about where you are aiming, keep your eye on the ball.” “Turn your front foot a little to the left.” “Keep your right elbow up.” With all that advice, you would think I would by now be giving Tiger Woods some competition, but alas as of this writing, I have only been on a regular golf course one time in my life - about the year 1990 - but, I did hit a 111 for the 18 holes. Is that good?

A few weeks after I arrived at FAWTUPac, another Riversider, Ben Killingsworth, came aboard. Ben had been a couple of company’s behind me in boot camp and again a couple of company’s behind in Memphis. Ben and I had graduated from Riverside Poly High in the same class. He had selected to be an AT when he came out of the Memphis Class A Electronics school, so he ended up being assigned to work on equipment inside our electronics shop.

Ben already knew that Don Middleton was here, but one day when Ben and I were talking about back home, one of the AL1’s in our section came up and said, “Are you guys from Riverside, California? That is where I was born and raised.” So we now knew four guys from Riverside on this base. We later had a number of others get stationed there or pass through.

The Fennell Family

A few months later, I made contact with my “second” cousins that lived on Oahu. My dad’s aunt Mary Jane Leibert had married in 1886 a guy named William Fennell. The newlyweds then moved to the island of Maui where daughter Mary Josephine was born and quickly nicknamed Dolla. The next move was to Punaluu on the southern most end of the big island of Hawaii when Fennell got the job to manage the Kua Sugar shipping docks at Punaluu Kau. Three more children were born in Punaluu - Ethel, her twin sister Avis, and Lillian. By 1898 they were in Honolulu living on the island of Oahu where son Martin was born.

My first contact was with Lillian who at this time was the Principal of the Waipahu Elementary School. Her house, on the school grounds, was across the street from the Oahu Sugar Mill which I had noticed on my original bus ride to Barber’s Point. She had never married and owned a Packard sedan that usually just sat in her garage.

Soon after my original phone contact, I received a call from Lillian inviting me to participate in their upcoming Waipahu Lei Day celebration.

With a little hesitation I agreed and on May 1, 1950 took a bus up to Waipahu. I quickly found out that Lillian had grandiose plans for the day and one part of that plan was to have all of us dress up Hawaiian style, including the men.

Oh boy, didn’t sound like it was something I wanted to do, but soon I was all dolled up wearing a Mu-u-mu-u. Looked like a woman’s dress to me. There is a picture somewhere that recorded this event, but I just could not locate it in time to include it with these writings. Sorry! I think I had the duty and couldn’t get off for the next Lei Day. No more Muumuu’s for me.

She must have appreciated my willingness to be a “good sport” during the Lei Day festivities, because I soon was getting bi-monthly invitations to take Lillian out to dinner. Her phone calls would almost always start with something about her car battery getting low and the car needing exercise.

Lillian’s restaurant of choice was located in Waihiawa. It was a French restaurant and put out some very good meals. It most likely was the first place where I ever ate real French-style food. My cousin knew everyone that worked at or ate at that restaurant, and soon, so did I.

Lillian was very active within the community of Waipahu. She was on the board for a youth patrol group who would assist the local police with traffic and crime prevention activities. Every time any organization from Waipahu had some event, I would get some type of invite - you know, all the way from being handed some type of flyer, to the old fashioned arm twisting that you could not pass up. I actually did have the duty every fourth day, and every fourth weekend, so legitimately I was able to turn down some of her invites. But in hind sight, I wish I hadn’t.

I did attend a number of luaus that the local Waipahu Catholic church conducted. There was a park in Ewa Beach where they would roast a pig and serve everything that you had learned to expect of a luau. They even served three types of poi and you don’t get that at today’s commercial luaus. One finger, two finger and three finger poi. The difference seemed to be the thickness - not the taste. But actually I developed a “taste” for poi, not for a lot of it, but certainly I would not pass it by. I was a two finger poi man. I never missed one of their luaus.

Eventually, Lillian decided to share me with her sisters who lived in Honolulu. One of her twin sisters was named Ethel. Ethel had died from pneumonia during the 1930’s. The other twin was Avis and she had married a George Harold William Barnhart and they had one son, William (Billy) Barnhart. George had died shortly before I arrived in Hawaii. I seldom saw Billy during those days. He worked in a bank, if I remember right, and I am pretty sure that he did not live at his mother’s place because he was never there.

Both of Lillian’s sisters lived in Manoa Valley, mauka from the University of Hawaii facilities -

mauka means “towards the mountains”. Avis lived on Doris Place, just mauka of East Manoa Road. She had a small building on the rear part of her lot which probably had been built as a room for a house maid. That room became my home away from home and saved me a lot of rental money.

Early during my time on Oahu, Avis presented me with a guest card to the Outrigger Canoe Club, so I could use their facilities for free. This was the place to be as it was located on the beach right in the heart of the Waikiki. I seldom had to show the card even though I visited the facility on a number of occasions. Just having an Outrigger Canoe Club card was a status symbol among sailors.

The other sister was Mary Josephine Fennell, who was nicknamed Dolla. She was the eldest of my Dad’s cousins. She also had never married, and she worked at the University of Hawaii library as a secretary, I believe. Dolla had a house on Liloa Rise which was about a half mile makai from Avis. Makai is Hawaiian for “toward the ocean”.

The times that I visited Dolla always seemed to be for lunch on a Saturday. She would invite some other guests - for me to meet? One of the things that I remember about my visits to her house was the maids. They were always of Chinese nationality and very pretty. They all knew English, but said very little to the guests. I understood that they were students from the University and lived in some quarters at the rear of Dolla’s house.

The youngest of the Fennell family was “Colonel” Martin Fennell. He had retired as a Colonel from the U.S. Army, was a real estate broker in his retirement, and had a family that consisted of two pre-war kids, and two post-war kids. The pre-war ones were Martin, Jr., and Margaret (Peggy), and the post-war “brats” were Mary Jane and William. They lived in Kailua which was on the north side of the island. I only saw the children once or twice in all the time I was in Hawaii.

Martin would drop by about once a month to visit his sisters. Once he took us for a ride to Waihiawa and used his military pass to take us onto Schofield Barracks and then on through the Kolekole Pass. This section was closed to the public, but the views of the valleys and beaches were well worth getting to see from the mountain road. The road was not open to public access because you travel through the Lualualei Naval Ammunition Depot to get out. The road came out near Nanakuli Beach.

Special Assignment

Not too long after I arrived at Barber’s Point, I was put on a special assignment. Well, actually it was 18 of us that were loaded up and taken to the Kaneohe Marine Air Station with directions to remove all the furniture from the base housing and bring it back to a Barber’s Point warehouse. We were given a big ring of keys - I mean a big ring, about 3 foot in diameter and probably containing 1,000 keys.. The theory was that we would sort out which key went with which lock. and unlock the building. We then were to remove the furnishings from the rooms, and then close and relock the door.

Well the theory did not work. We had been there most of one day and we had only found five or six keys that matched any lock. But we did have a solution. We had brought about 3 big trucks - 6 by 6’s - a ton and a half, I think. Someone figured out that the front bumper of the truck would fit into the building door jamb real neatly. Then you let out the clutch and the door would open - every time. Load up the back of the truck with furniture, and then nail closed what was left of the door. Then you would move on to the next building.

We were over at Kaneohe for about three weeks, and we did have a few distractions. There were hundreds of coconut trees on the base and they were loaded with coconuts. A few of the sailors attempted to climb some of the trees like the natives do in the movies, but no one was able to make it high enough to knock down the coconuts.

Problem number two. Solution number two. Drive one 6 by 6 truck to about one-foot from said coconut tree. Rev the engine a little and quickly release the clutch - then look out for falling coconuts. This worked almost every time. If not, just move the truck back two-feet from the tree and repeat the process. After we perfected that procedure we were able to include 20 to 30 coconuts with every trip of furniture that was taken to Barber’s Point. I have no idea of what happened to the coconuts once they got there.

One of the clear benefits with going on a special assignment was the food at the mess hall. In the case of Kaneohe, there were a number of Marines still assigned at the base for security and other reasons. There also were two cooks operating a small mess hall over there and their food was great. You want a steak, you got steak; you want pineapple, you got pineapple. They always were able to satisfy their customers. This was typical of each of my special assignments I was on during all of my overseas duty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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