At the Thirty-second Street Naval Station, the instructors made us conduct a search on the bottom of San Diego Bay at night without lights. There was no moon, and we crawled along the bottom muck in total darkness.
August 11, 1988
At the Thirty-second Street Naval Station, the instructors made us conduct a search on the bottom of San Diego Bay at night without lights. There was no moon, and we crawled along the bottom muck in total darkness.
One, I remember, was six months pregnant, her belly really sticking out. “Yeah, I can feel my baby moving, so what,” she said. “I don’t care if they tear his arms and legs out.”