It amazes me the people who willingly move into an area knowing what goes on and expect the entire world to adjust to their desires.

During most of my youth in Idaho aircraft of any type were relatively rare. I was vaguely interested in them but when you are bore-sighting a team of horses from can see to can’t see you don’t really have time to be gazing around like a tourist.

I became real interested in early ‘43, on Guadalcanal, where the First Raider Battalion was preparing for the landing at Rice Anchorage on New Georgia. One day we were on the beach training when we were attacked by a flight of Zero aircraft which were apparently having a lot of fun until planes of the Cactus Air Force (Marines from Henderson Field) arrived and destroyed or drove them off. Our Platoon Sergeant Bill Wiley explained to us that the planes were Marine Corsairs and for years that gull-winged plane was the only one I could recognize. Funny, again I didn’t hear any complaints about noise from their engines.

Later (in July) while on New Georgia we were constantly harassed at night by a nuisance plane we called “Wash Machine Charley” because of the very distinctive noise of his engine. Our Marines (and possibly Navy) fliers from the “canal” and later Munda Airfield would usually show up and chase him away. Occasionally we would be attacked by rather large groups on daylight raids which our flyers would (quite belatedly in our opinion) show up and drive them away. Once again there was no noise complaints.

Through the remainder of World War II and Korea there were many occasions to call on our (both Marine and Navy) aircraft for close air support. It was (now and then) a little closer than we liked but it sure helped when needed. When receiving incoming fire from artillery and/or mortars you don’t notice aircraft engine noise because all you wanted were results. In Vietnam we had even more noise because we were then using jets, props and helicopters but were seldom aware of engine noise because of all the other noise.

I first arrived here on Whidbey Island in 1963 and was stationed here as first sergeant at the Marine barracks for three years. For a while we lived under a flight pattern in a mobile home. Talk about noise, it would sometimes almost shake the mobile home off the supports. We would look at the good side, we were both awake and could catch up on the loving. I was lucky enough to be able to return to the Rock in 1973 after I retired and have not regretted my return.

Our pilots (and all of our military) need all the training they can get and I for one don’t mind the noise at all unless it makes me miss a putt and then I am looking for something or someone to blame. Admiral Hyman Rickover was credited (1983) with the quotation “The more you sweat in peace, the less you bleed in war,” but I am sure that are many variations of the same by others. I keep rambling on but will mention that I still recall the trip (in January ‘42) from San Diego to American Samoa when the (I believe aircraft carrier Yorktown) lost nearly 30 badly needed airplanes during flight ops (during the two week trip) because of lack of carrier qualification training.

I agree with others who have said “If you don’t like our noise, the bridge has traffic going both ways.”

Roy V. Owen, Sergeant major, USMC Retired, lives in Oak Harbor.