CAMP STONEMAN, PITTSBURG, CALIFORNIA

Camp Stoneman, on the Sacramento River 40-miles east of San Francisco was a major embarkation point for GIs during WW II. We were waiting for a troopship leaving from San Francisco. We waited...and waited. After two-months waiting we were loaded onto a ferry for San Francisco and the USS General Butner. I was worried about sinking in a storm or hitting another ship at night; typical landlubber worries. When I saw the Butner for the first time, viewed through a warehouse doorway, my fears vanished.. This ship was so huge I couldn't see the top of it or end to end of it. I felt foolish for wasted worrying. This ship could go anywhere, in any storm.

A few interesting experiences during my time at Camp Stoneman. We were not allowed to leave the base except for one weekend pass after one-month. This was totally unacceptable to me and many others. Two good friends from Radio Mechanic school and I decided to go AWOL one weekend and the hell with the consequences. We snuck off base on a Friday (one of the guys pulled it off, maybe with fake overnight passes) and partied in San Francisco all weekend. I had my first exposure to dealing with a hooker and her pimp. We stayed at a hotel downtown. Walking back to the hotel after much partying and drinking, a guy in a station wagon asked us if we were interested in a private party. The three of us climbed in, ready for a party. In the front seat was the driver and a very good looking young girl that I squeezed in next to. In the back were my two friends and a fat guy I guessed (much later) was there to prevent trouble. We were almost broke so nothing came of it. They took us to our hotel, no hard feelings. I remember the price quoted was $15 each. That would be about $100 in today’s money. Sunday night we rode to the main gate in a taxi, no passes, ready to be arrested by the MPs and taken to the stockade. Instead, they ordered us out of the cab, searched it thoroughly for booze, and let us through. Never asked for our passes. Camp Stoneman was a very depressing experience for me and everyone I knew. Terribly bleak unpainted WW II barracks lacking beauty of any kind. No grass or flowers. Nothing to do, nowhere to go and every night the Williwas, strong mountain winds came down out of the foothills at sunset to rattle the barracks until midnight.