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From April 1964 to August 1966 I was stationed with Fleet Tactical Support Squadron 24 Detachment at the Naval Air Facility, Naples, Italy. This was the longest posting I had in the USN as I got out after my first enlistment and went on to other things, like Alaska.

I made many good friends here and am in the process of finding them. There are still a few out there who have eluded me. At any rate, I would like to share some images and thoughts of that time and place.

                              

VR-24 was commissioned in 1946 and decommissioned in the 1990s. Over the years the squadron patch changed form. This is what it looked like when I was there: Mercury carrying cargo in a timely manner to the carriers of the 6th Fleet.

                     

This is a Grumman  C1-A Trader. Our Detachment had 8 of these sturdy birds, one was always being rebuilt so there were 7 ready for duty at all times. Dave Thissen, who sent me this photo, says that Lt Ken Balderson was the pilot of 050 on this catapult shot. On the nacelle toward the back are the letters COD for Cargo On Deck. We carried passengers, mail, and whatever else we could fit inside out to the carriers in the Mediterranean for further distribution to their carrier groups.

After a year or so I ended up in Operations Division as a Communications and Air Intelligence Yeoman working for Lt (jg) Sam Todd. Prior to that I worked for Leading Chief Orville Tolley, mostly as a compartment (coop) cleaner under the direction of AB1 L.W. "Louie" Stephans. I would love to hear from Louie, he’s one of the guys I’m trying to find.

                            

When I reported for duty at VR-24 Det, Commander Carl F. Wisendanger was the CO. Navy tradition says that the commanding officer keeps a social distance from his crew, and his executive officer (XO) handles the interface except for those occasions when someone is honored for merit, ships over (reenlists), or makes rate (promoted). Or has screwed up and goes to Captain’s Mast which handles infractions or ill conduct (like a fist fight) that do not warrant a court martial. I never appeared in front of the skipper for any of the above reasons.

What many of us did not know was that the Navy had screwed over Commander Wisendanger. When they posted him to Naples they told him it would be an 18 month tour if he left his family stateside, or a 36 month tour if he brought them with. He opted for the 18 month tour. At the end of the 18 months he was informed he would be there for another 18. His family was firmly established in California and it would have been a financial hardship for him to bring them over (on his own nickel). So he was not a happy man. He did not spread his unhappiness around and I always thought him a fair, honorable man and felt it a privilege to serve under his command.

Master Chief Orville Tolley was our Leading Chief, senior to all enlisted men in the squadron. He was a very fair man who tolerated a lot crap from me and never once wrote me up for it. The three times I put in chits for transfer to Viet Nam were all signed with alacrity by him, but, thank Posedion, all were rejected by Lt Fry, our personnel officer, who wouldn’t give me anything he thought I wanted, and probably saved my life. Thanks Al!

Both Commander Wisendanger and Master Chief Tolley were WWII and Korean War veterans. Both are now deceased. I wish I could thank them both for their service and apologize to Chief Tolley for being such a turd when I worked for him.

                             

This is the only gate to Naval Air Facility, Naples, Italy. You can see the Marines Chevy panel truck next to the guard shack. A Naval Air Facility is different from a Naval Air Station only in the respect that a NAF does not own the runway. If one could look to the far left in this photo they would see Naples International Airport. Our barracks was no more than 1,000 feet from the main runway. My first night there was hell, couldn’t sleep for the noise of Boeing 707s taxiing, taking off and landing. The second night, and every night after that, I slept like a baby, didn’t hear a thing.

The horse in this photo had just hauled me and two buddies (don’t remember which ones) all the way from Piazzia Municipio in downtown Naples. We had missed the Liberty Bus and decided to take one of the ubiquitous horse drawn carriages one finds everywhere in Napoli. It’s a long, uphill journey and all three of us felt sorry for the horse by the time we got there.

                              

This was home for two and a half years. On the far left are the auto shop and the gym, then the beer hall, then the chow hall. In the middle of the breezeway is the NAF Master At Arms shack and then the barracks. NAF personnel (there were two commands here; the Naval Air Facility crew and the VR-24 Det crew. There was also a Marine detachment that served as security but they answered to their commander up at the Naval Support Activity… all clear now?) occupied the left side of the C-shaped barracks and the bottom floor of the right side. VR-24 had the second floor on the side you can see in the photo.
                                  

Danny Casey worked in Operations Division. He was easily the most pugnacious of all my friends. If you pissed him off he would invite you out to the "turn-up area" which was a walled area where they took planes to test their engines as the ear-damaging noise would be directed upward. It was a rarely visited spot and therefore perfect for those occasions when only knuckles on flesh can settle the problem away from the ever watchful eyes of officers and petty officers. People only tended to bother Casey once. We had some interesting adventures together.

Originally from Ohio, Danny is now retired and lives with his wife, Joyce, in Florida.

                                          

Dave Thissen worked in Operations also. Dave and I hung out together a lot and when I left VR-24 to return to civilian life, took over my old job. Dave finished his enlistment, messed around on civvy street for a few months and then joined the Air Force. After his hitch in the Air Force he rejoined the Navy for a tour in Newfoundland. Then he got out and rejoined the Air Force where he stayed for a total of 32 years of military service. Now retired to his home state of Ohio he enjoys air shows, steam train exhibits and visiting Navy ships preserved as museums. Thank you for your service, Dave.

                                  

Elsewhere on this web site is the Langbein Collection. Fred worked in Ops too. He had (probably still has) a wicked sense of practical humor. He would work harder setting up a stunt than he ever would on the job. His favorite mark was Pat Keating from Wilkes-Barre, PA. One night Pat hit the beach (went on liberty) and Fred was on duty (had to stay on base). He carefully took all the little springs off the metal mesh which supported the mattress on Pat’s bunk.

Pat had a top bunk and at the time there was no one bunking beneath him. Fred them remade Pat’s bunk and we all waited for the last liberty bus from town. Pat came in, got undressed in the dark (we all had our combination locks memorized to the point we could open them in the dark, and could in fact get undressed, put away out things and get into bed in the dark) and then swung up onto his bunk - and fell straight through to the lower one. We were all impressed with his high-C piercing shriek.

Then, at the top of his lungs, he bellowed, "God damn you, Fred!" and we all cracked up. Then Fred went in and helped him put his bunk back together. I always enjoyed Fred’s sense of humor and showmanship. He should have gone into entertainment.

Instead he worked for General Motors and has now retired in his home state of New Jersey with his (has to be!) patient wife, Cheryl.

                                           

                

Commander Ford relieved Cdr Wisendanger and became our CO. We all noticed that the commander hated saluting so much that he would avoid as many occasions as possible. Very unusual for an officer. Note the Alitalia 707 in the background. It has just taxied past on its way to the terminal. This gives you some idea of how close our whole operation was to Naples International.

                                 

Henry Gagne was in the squadron about four months when he decided he wanted to be a stewburner, or in naval parlance, a commissaryman. So he worked in the chow hall and when he made 3rd class, transferred to NAF and stayed right there. Henry went to Rome with me on my 19th birthday and, since he spoke pretty decent Italian, ordered all our meals. He was the first person to get me to try squid. I loved it. But he wouldn’t tell me what it was until I tasted it.

Henry retired as a CS1 after 22 years of service and now lives in Virginia. Thank you for your service, Enrico.

This is the Flamingo Club for Enlisted Men on the Allied Forces Southern Europe (NATO) Base. It was far classier that most of the dives in downtown Naples and offered excellent food and mixed drinks for twenty-five cents. You could be 17 and fresh out of boot camp and still drink in Italy. Unfortunately that was the major pasttime for the majority of us.

            

I cannot remember this man’s name, and I know I asked him at least a dozen times. He was the head bartender at the Flamingo Club and we learned early that if you tipped him a buck, and tipped your waiter a buck, at the beginning of the evening, your drinks were absolutely excellent! When I went to snap his photo he held up his hand, positioned himself exactly where he wanted and then stuck his pose.

Fellow Nebraskan Bill Fyfe and me having dinner at the Flamingo Club. Bill returned to his hometown of Coumbus, Nebraska an now drives big rigs from coast to coast.

Carl "Skip" Mlinarich has been found and added to our ranks. Back when this was taken he was a PN3 (Personnel Man), one of our black shoes (deck rating) as opposed to all of us airdales which is what the aviation ratings were known as collectively. Skip stayed in the Navy, met an Englishwoman, Loretta, in Naples, and they married in her hometown of Coventry, England in November 1966. They have been together ever since. Skip retired as a Master Chief Personnelman in 1988 and he and Loretta live in Orlando, Florida. Thank you for your service, Chief Mlinarich.

Skip shared this photo and the two following.

Besides Skip and Danny Casey, we’re looking for the other guys in the record of debauchery.

Skip and his crew hung out in some of the classier bars in Naples. But then, look how nice they dressed!

Well, they didn’t dress nice all the time. Note that Tyra is the only guy with a girl. If there was one available woman in a place, she would end up with Tyra. We’re looking for you, Jerome.

Me, Dave Fowler, Dan Toberny, and Bob Reddy at the Flamingo Club. Very casual. You could buy filet mignon for under ten bucks, and I often did. I’m still looking for all three of these guys and would appreciate any and all help I can get.

Another meal at the FC. Me, Dave Fowler, Mike Cass, Dan (I know, it says Dave-it’s wrong!) Toberny, and Roger Ellis.

                          

Doug Lonsinger and me in one of the many, many bars in downtown Napoli. This looks pretty clean so it was probably the Bluebird Club, operated by the Navy and not quite as classy as the Flamingo and located within two blocks of the Fleet Landing.

                                 

Earl "Buddha" Curtis was not a Navy photographer, but should have been, The only thing he was more into than photography was tattoos. His nickname derived from the tattoo of sitting Buddha on the back of his left hand. When I first joined VR-24 he had 24 tattoos. When I last saw him he had 36.

On one of my two trips to Copenhagen, Denmark I finally found my way down to "Sailor Oly’s Tattoo Parlor" located on a nice little sloop tied up in the huge harbor. I went in and watched Sailor Oly finish one tattoo on Buddha, and then watched as Buddha selected another and had it inked into him. They were both drunk on schnapps.

I should have left. But I wanted a shamrock tattoo on my left shoulder, so I waited. Finally Buddha stumbled out with a wave and Sailor Oly asked, "Whattya want?"

I pointed to the delicate shamrock among the other potential tattoos displayed on his bulkhead. "No sweat," he says. "I don’t need a template for that one."

Which explains why I have a four-leaf clover on my shoulder to this day.

Another shot of Buddha in a classic stance; beer in one hand and his camera around his neck at a beer bust. What many of us didn’t know was that Earl Curtis had a bachelor’s degree from MIT and could have been an officer if he so chose. Go figure.

                                       

The Beer Bust was a VR-24 Det standard. Most games pitted the officers against the enlisted. It gave us all a chance to "let out hair down" (what hair?) and work off animosities. I wish I had got a shot of the other team.

                                        

Ensign Todd and Bill "Red" Hilton at a beer bust. Bill was a 2nd class petty officer and a plane captain, which meant he was the enlisted man in charge of the aircraft when on a mission. He made sure the bird was refueled and everything ready for flight, both at NAF and wherever the mission took them. Our mission covered the entire Mediterranean Sea as well as the countries bordering it, and on a few memorable occasions, up to the Baltic countries and even Great Britain. Red was a true professional and never griped about his assignments, no matter how remote and unglamorous.

                           

Same beer bust. I cannot remember the name of the man on the far left in the foreground. Next is Lee, Daugherty AD1 (I think) is in the fedora. The next two remain unnamed at this time, then Bill Hilton and Ens. Sam Todd. Sam was the Intelligence Officer and I was the Communications and Air Intelligence Yeoman. Sam was my boss. Even though I was a real pita at times, he never gave me any grief and was always a true gentleman. I liked him then, and I like him now. (See the 2007 Reunion photos!)

 

The Peanut Gallery

Me, Scott Burgett and MacDonald at the Bluebird EM Club in downtown Naples.

LCdr "Corky" Millner and catcher "Ham" Hamilton wait for Danny  Studebaker to offload his last three beers.

The other Todd in the squadron was from Vermont, very easy-going and likable.

                          

This was taken from inside the VR-24 hangar. that’s one of our C-118s from the mother squadron in Rota, Spain sitting on the tarmac. To the right is one of our C1-As, and to the right of it is a "Willy Fudd" radar plane designed for anti-submarine warfare utilizing the same Grumman aircraft as the C1-A.                                                

One of my ancillary duties was squadron mailman. This got me out of a lot of hangar sweep-downs as nobody would argue with me leaving to get the mail. We all wanted to hear from home. I’m pointing at my mailbox in this photo I sent my mother.

                                       

This was taken in the small office Sam and I shared. Yeah, that’s Sam’s hat I’m wearing. We kept track of all our carrier groups on this map and therefore the office was off limits to anyone without a Confidential clearance. We had one of the few offices with a closed door in the squadron. I read a lot of novels in this office.

                                               

                                               Kim Bischoff behind the barracks.

                                        

Leonard "Danny" Kubitski in front of the little garden behind the chow hall. Dan is a good friend who is retired and now lives in Florida.

                                         

Dave Bowman decided to strike for commissaryman, hence the device on his baseball cap.

                               

Dave Fowler, YN2, in his bunk. As a second class petty officer he didn’t have to have to have a bunk above his. He could lived off base (on the beach) if he so chose.

                              

                                 The caption says it all.

             

Every year we painted up one of the CODs for Christmas deliveries to the carriers. I was selected to paint the 1965 bird since I was the only one in the squadron who could draw. This was my very first graphics gig. I have now been a graphic artist for over 35 years.

Not long after this I was "asked" to address 250 invitations for the American Consul in Naples as I was deemed to have the best handwriting in the American community. Not only did the task result in a massive case of writer’s cramp, I wasn’t even given the next day off! (Yes, I’m still pissed about it!)

                                   

On my first Liberty in Naples I was overjoyed to see the USS Enterprise (CVAN-65) in port. My best friend and fellow enlistee, Del Buhrman was a crew member. Dressed in civvies (civilian clothes) I went straight to the Fleet Landing and caught the next motor whale boat for the Big E. At the time I didn’t know that only officers on the carriers could wear civvies ashore. All EMs had to go in the uniform of the day, and since it was April that would be dress whites.

So when I went aboard everyone treated me like a doofus officer since I had come aboard on the fantail rather than the quarter deck. I explained that I would like to visit an enlisted man and they immediately called down to the V-2 Division where Del was busy painting bulkheads. He had no clue I was anywhere closer than Pensacola, Florida. (It’s a long story told elsewhere.)

So when he emerged from the main hatch and we saw each other (it had been a year) we both whooped and hugged each other. I can only wonder what the Chief Petty Officer on duty thought. First I took his picture (above) and then he took me down and introduced me to his 1st class PO who also thought I was an officer (by now I knew…) who told Del to take liberty and offered to loan him $20, which Del accepted.

We talked and drank until midnight when he had to be back aboard. It was a great liberty and one of the most enjoyable ones I experienced. We both had massive hangovers the next morning.

                          

Dick Prather created and maintains the VR-24 Association web page that includes photos from the squadron’s long history, a message board and more. Click on the insignia to visit.