
Four fellow junior officers and I rented a cottage in Virginia Beach -- a good 45-minute commute from the shipyard -- and lived there when we weren't on duty aboard ship. Virginia Beach is a lively seashore town most of the year, but here's what it looked like at night in January 1969:
Main drag, downtown.
Beach promenade.
Winter is cold and dark pretty much wherever you go in non-tropical latitudes, it seems. We burned a lot of firewood in that little cottage -- and a lot of scrap wood we liberated from a nearby demolition site. Quite the band of jolly buccaneers, we were. At least we got away with it (most of the time). Those were the days. Cherish them, cherish them.
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