One of the beauties of being the first in the neighborhood is you get to build your own bunker. Here's Miller with his entrenching tool pounding down sandbags to make our bunker rather secure.

This is/was our motor pool. A real shit hole, but effective. Don't you just love how we have the fuel protected? Not! All we had was that one old worn out 3/4 ton truck.

Mama-san filling sandbags for us. This is from outside the wire looking in. The place was laced with Claymore mines and napalm mines. We never did get hit the whole time I was there.

Papa-san's hooch. It's a good thing we never got attacked. His hooch was right in the middle of everything! The old bird was a pretty good tailor also.

This guy was one of the "flashy" jeep drivers. He was drunk as a monkey and we had to sober him up, fast. I'm not too sure it worked!

Well, at least we got a half-decent salute out of him. I wish I could remember his name!

Here's Deono Miller and me. Miller needs to go on a diet! Me, I need some food!! We're in the process of cleaning our weapons. Remember the white LSA bottle?

Here's a great shot of me and my buddy from New Jersey. Again, I can't for the life of me remember his name. I do know he was a certified undertaker! He was also an 11B grunt. Great guy!!

The guy sitting down is Wayne Byron, from Mass. Seems all we did was sit around and drink beer! Wayne was a sniper also.

I told Wayne to hold up his arm and show my mom the watch she sent to him, so here it is mom....