I was surprised to see there was such camaraderie

I got a call telling me about a party some military guys were throwing. It was their ninth annual Party of Epic Proportions. When Chris DeLong invited me, he said, "There are two invitations.

One for the wives and girlfriends. The other one is for the guys." I was a little confused until my invitation arrived via the computer. The one for the guys showed the start time as 1:00 p.m. The entertainment was to include strippers (and, if memory serves, a porn star). The invitation for the wives showed that the party started at 2:30, with the entertainment being "three great bands."

When the female "entertainment" arrived, I was in the back yard talking to a few people. At some point they tried to get me into the living room, saying there was a front-row seat. I did go inside a half an hour later, and I was surprised to see there were a few girlfriends and wives around, rolling their eyes anytime they heard hollering from the living room. You couldn't even see inside the living room — there were too many guys standing there. At one point, a woman was being passed around above everyone's head, with guys putting dollar bills in her bikini. One guy looked at me and said sternly, "You're the reporter, right? You better not ruin this for us, chief." I don't know what he thought. This wasn't a Tailhook thing. But I asked Chris later if writing about it would defeat the purpose of the two invitations. He said, "Nah, it's cool. This is probably the last one I'll have at this house anyway."

They had 20 kegs in the back yard, so I grabbed a beer. I told one of the former roommates, who told me his name was Coma, how odd I thought it was that they had four Porta Pottis. He said, "Yeah, we've been throwing these parties for a while. And we have everything delivered." Chris added, "I spent all day organizing yesterday, but we have the stage for the bands delivered and set up, and the kegs. We even have a 300-pound ice luge coming later."

I heard so many people talk about the famous ice luge and had one guy finally explain it to me. He said, "It's great. You open your mouth at one end, and they pour a drink from the top of it. It goes down the ice and into your mouth." I found out a few days later that they used 100 bottles to pour down the luge.

What seemed more interesting than the luge was the kids' pool that they set up in the living room. They had women wrestling in baby oil. I asked Chris if it would ruin the carpet, and he said, "Not with the tarp we have laid down all over the floor." Another guy said, "They are prepared." When the tarp was being taken outside, I asked if the "entertainment" was over. Someone replied, "No. The girls are in the other room showering all the oil off them. They have one more show."

Other than an Andy Kaufman special, I had never seen women wrestle. When I poked my head inside, the living room had to be 150 degrees. One guy walked away from the crowd, dripping in sweat. He said, "It is one stinky inferno in there. It's like a pack of ravenous dogs." Two guys went into the kitchen and were wiping themselves off. I didn't know if it was baby oil or sweat they were covered in.

One short guy was trying to poke his head around the crowd to see what was happening. He gave up after a few minutes, saying, "This is why I hate being short. I can never see anything." Maybe he should've done what a fourth of the crowd was doing: Holding their cell phones up and taking photos. And there was a guy in a wheelchair. I'm not sure if he was able to make it into the coveted living room.

The crowd would yell and get into it, but they weren't out of control. And for a bunch of military guys, many of whom were muscular — the few times I bumped into people, they said, "Excuse me, sir" — they were a surprisingly well-behaved bunch. But as one guy told me, "It's not worth getting in trouble and possibly losing our jobs over a party. This is a slightly older crowd that has all that out of their system." The crowd looked to be in their late 20s. And right after this guy told me it wasn't worth losing a job over, I saw a cooler that was marked Property of MCAS Miramar. I laughed.

Chris told me, "We like to have this party as a homecoming for some, and for the people that are heading out. I leave for Japan at the end of June and will possibly be routed to Iraq. Ken Lee is a

Marine here who just got back from six months in Afghanistan. And Marty is leaving right after the party for Iraq. Pretty much everyone here served in Operation Iraqi Freedom. And a lot more of these guys will probably be redeployed to Iraq this fall. I can't give a lot of details as to when or who."

I know, or you'd have to kill me.

There were a lot of Navy guys here, and I was surprised to see there was such camaraderie. It's not like the movies where one branch of the military doesn't respect the other. I talked to a few guys who were F/A-18 Hornet pilots. Another guy said he was a Cobra pilot. I meant to ask him what a Cobra was. I knew it was a sports car. I didn't know it was something that flew. There were also a few helo pilots.

When I was taking notes, somebody asked if I was a superior officer. There were a few Marine lawyers present, and maybe they thought I was checking things out for some reason. One of the lawyers told me the party was also about celebrating the people who recently got promoted (I think one of them called it a "wetting down") as well as the homecomings.

Since this house was in Pacific Beach, right near the ocean, parking was tough; most parked in the Bank of America lot that charged $5.1 asked Chris if neighbors would complain when the bands started. He said, "No, I tell all of them. They know. I even call the police and tell them what we're doing. We aren't allowed to get a noise permit. You can't get one if you're 2 1/2 miles from the coast."

Since a house across the street was having construction done, with lots of drilling and hammering, I doubt anybody was bothered by this noise. And two off-duty police officers were hired to do security. Coma told me, "In PB, we'd have a lot of people just walking by that crash this party. It's gotten bad in the past. And we don't want underage drinkers or people that weren't invited." And when the cops did finally show up, they just talked to the security guards for a few minutes and left. One guy in the back yard who wanted to leave tried jumping the back fence. The board snapped, and he fell and hit his face. He walked away with a bit of blood trickling down, and Coma grabbed a nail and hammer and fixed the fence.

The first band to play was called Thik. I was looking forward to seeing them because I had such a great conversation with drummer Bill Nychay. He told me stories about some of the pilots here.

He pointed to Chris and said, "It's amazing to think of him flying these planes. He trains people, too. One time I was golfing and I called him and asked him to do a fly-by. He told me what time he would, and sure enough, that jet came right over the golf course. It was so cool." He also told me about pilots flying real low over parts of Arizona and seeing the illegal aliens scattering like ants.

Bill also told me about working with some famous musicians. Somehow, he gets race cars sponsored by musicians. He told me they got a car for Alice Cooper, Meatloaf, and Vince Neil of Motley Crue. And because Neil is so into the sport, he's always involved in different projects with Bill.

Before Bill's band took the stage, Mark Evans grabbed a guitar. He said, "I'm going to play the national anthem." I asked him if it would sound like Hendrix at Woodstock, and he said, "No, that was a bit too sloppy. I'm going to clean it up. What Jimi did worked back then, but it's 2004." He got up onstage, and I was surprised at the handful of nonmilitary people who didn't take their hats off even after Chris made an announcement to do so. Some people were told to remove their hats by people standing next to them. Others just had them knocked off by people standing nearby.

I've heard a lot of national anthems. And as part of a morning radio show years ago, I sang the national anthem at a Padre game. But this was the most moving. To be standing here, side by side with the people who actually do the fighting to keep this country safe, was heartwarming. I found out later that they were going to have a jet fly over during the anthem. It turned out to be a no-fly zone.

Thik finally took the stage and sounded great. They did a lot of old rock songs, like three straight from Van Halen. I would see neighbors poke their heads out, smile, and go back inside. One guy came out with a cell phone to his ear. He shook his head and then started laughing. The singer of Thik thanked the military and talked about respect. And a few songs later he called Coma up, who tried his best to sing a Ramones song before stumbling on some lyrics. A person in the crowd told me Coma has an annual bicycle club crawl. Somebody overheard that and responded, "No, he hasn't done that in a few years."

I found out most of these guys are stationed at Miramar. A few were from Camp Pendleton. Chris said, "Most of us were at El Toro, and that's where these parties used to be. A few people are here from Yuma, too."

I saw a donation box right by the door. Somebody asked Chris, "I threw in $60, is that cool?" Chris said, "Yeah, that's fine. Whatever anybody wants to contribute is fine." I asked him how much the party cost and he said, "About $7000." I didn't think to ask him a question that probably nobody but construction workers know the answer to: How much did the four Porta Pottis cost?

I was surprised that one of the bands playing here was the very popular '80s band All-Starz. Chris said, "I met Daniel, the lead singer, in Arizona a few years ago and he's been playing for us ever since. He lives in La Jolla. They play a lot cheaper for us. And after their set, they're going to be doing a gig down the street at the Longboard."

I left as the crowd was getting ready to watch the band 30 Second Presidents. There were six rows of bleachers, but even with those filled the back yard was packed. One guy was sitting on the roof, and Chris yelled into the microphone, "You can't stay on the roof. You have to get down. We got in trouble from the landlord last year. And by the way, if you see him — he's a short Oriental guy — be nice to him. Hook him up with some Cubans."

I wondered if there was anyone there with Cuban cigars. I also wondered if anyone there had on sunscreen. My arms got sizzled.