A sandy white beach. Swaying palm trees. Cocktails made from coconut juice.
When frigid air and snow storms whip across central Montana, Airmen here may
dream of trading their ‘home on the range’ for an exotic Pacific paradise.
But they might want to think again, according to Bob Cunningham, a former Air
Force radar operator whose first duty station was a tiny, oblong blister of land
in the South China Sea. He knows it as North Danger Island.
For six months in 1956 Cunningham lived on a remote knob approximately 2,000
feet long and 850 feet wide in the Spratly Islands group located midway between
the Philippine Islands and Vietnam. His home was a canvas tent and he manned
radio and radar equipment for a secret Air Force project mapping the earth.
December 22, 2016 - Air Force veteran Bob Cunningham points to the
camp on ‘North Danger Island’ where he lived and worked as a radar
operator for six months in 1956 during an Air Force project mapping
the earth. His team was resupplied with food, water, medicine, parts
and mail every 4-6 weeks at the remote location in the South China
Sea. Cunningham visited the Malmstrom Air Force Base museum and
showed photographs he took during his tour of duty on the island. (U.S. Air Force photo by John Turner, PAS)
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The mission was an aerial electronic geodetic survey. Specially equipped
aircraft flew grid patterns and triangulated electromagnetic pulses sent between
temporary ground stations hundreds of miles apart. The data, computed into
highly accurate coordinates, would eventually provide targeting information for
intercontinental ballistic missile development.
It was a ‘million dollar experience’ that he wouldn’t give two cents to repeat,
Cunningham jokes today.
Not that it wasn’t an adventure, he admits.
Cunningham’s four-man team and all its equipment was helicoptered to the island
from the deck of a Landing Ship, Tank (LST), along with the drinking water, fuel
and rations the men would need to survive. Resupply occurred every 4-6 weeks by
helicopter, supplemented by occasional parachute drops. A radio relay team of
six Airmen had already established itself on the island and shared the same
copse of trees.
“I was 22 years old. I was the kid on the island so it was a real experience,”
Cunningham remembers. “I didn’t have a lot of sophistication psychologically,
and that was a real psychological test for human beings, to be going like that.”
He was an Airman 2nd Class, a two-striper, with just over a year of service in
the Air Force and some college education. His sergeants had seen combat during
World War II and were wise to what the isolated team would endure. Their
ingenuity, humor and direct leadership kept young Cunningham and the others on
the island from mentally cracking.
To keep a low profile, the Airmen were ordered to stow their uniforms and wear
civilian shorts and sneakers, sandals and cowboy hats instead. The men also kept
their pistols and M-1 Garand rifles ready, knowing that pirates and other
possible threats roamed the waters surrounding them.
“The Chinese nationalists came by with a gun boat. A big, long vessel. Military.
Chinese Navy,” Cunningham said. “And they had this big three-inch cannon on the
front on a turret, and they swung that baby in toward our island, and they had
some machine gun turrets, and pretty soon we saw boats come over the edge and
some officers got on that and they came in to see who we were and what we were
doing.”
The Airmen placed palm fronds along the beach to spell out U-S-A-F. The gunboat
crew was satisfied and the standoff ended.
On another occasion, Okinawan fishermen came ashore to trade their fish for
drinking water.
“They saw our 50-foot antenna that we put up for our radar set, our pulse radio,
and so they were curious,” Cunningham said. “They came onboard and they were
quite friendly.”
Airman 2nd Class Bob Cunningham, 1374th Mapping and Charting
Squadron, operates radar equipment on North Danger Island in 1956.
The tiny island in the South China Sea, located midway between the
Philippine Islands and Vietnam, became an important station during
an Air Force project to accurately map the world using aerial
electronic geodetic survey. The processed data would eventually
benefit intercontinental ballistic missile targeting. (Courtesy
photo of Bob Cunningham)
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But visitors were the exception. Day after day, interaction was limited to
within the tiny community of Airmen.
A feud between two staff sergeants took a bad turn when one threatened to kill
the other.
Cunningham’s technical sergeant knew he had to step in and confront the enraged
man. But first he warned Cunningham and the other radar operator that the
situation could explode and that they might have to use their weapons.
“He said, ‘I’m calling him in here, I’m going to present this to him, our
concern,’” Cunningham recalled. “’If he gets up and breaks like I’ve seen a guy
do it, he’ll run right over to the ground power tent where those guys live and
he’ll just start shooting people.’”
Fortunately, there was no violence and the conflict was resolved.
“We had to stay up around the clock for a day or so to see what would happen in
case we had to call for an SA-16 (amphibious flying boat) to come out with Air
Police and come in and capture this guy, and we’re going to have to tie him up
to a palm tree or something,” Cunningham said. “We didn’t know what was going to
go on.”
The veteran sergeants kept up morale in other ways. They improved the camp with
funny signs, hand-made furniture and a wind-driven water pump. They cooked sea
turtles for the men. And they improvised a way to make alcohol from coconut
juice and cake mix.
Cunningham remembers the technical sergeant busy at his distillery ‘making
moonshine.’ When the sergeant was asked why he was wearing his pistol, he
replied that revenuers might come through and he couldn’t be interrupted.
That sense of humor was “what you really needed on a place like that to keep
from cracking up,” Cunningham said.
For recreation, Cunningham would walk around the island and photograph the
thousands of birds it attracted. He also tried diving off the reef once and
became terrified by the absolute darkness.
“I opened up my eyes and it scared the bejeepers out of me,” he said. “It was
total black. I couldn’t see anything. I got so danged scared, I came up and I
got off and I got back to that reef and I never went back again.”
In the final month, he and the sergeant were the only humans left on the island.
Two members of his team were evacuated. The radio relay team was relocated,
taking their noisy generator with them. For the two men remaining, the silence
at night was now ‘spooky’ – a lone coconut dropping from a tree was enough to
send them scrambling for their weapons.
Cunningham’s experience on the reef forever changed how he relates to other
people.
“I have an expression,” he said. “’This guy sounds like a North Danger kind of
guy,’ meaning somebody compatible, smart, you can get along with him, he’s got a
good temper. Or this guy, I would not want to be with him on North Danger.”
By U.S. Air Force John Turner, Public Affairs Specialist
Provided
through DVIDS
Copyright 2018
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