Marine Beds by Robert S. Ynacay

I remember my years on active duty, having to sleep in a sleeping bag, canvas cot, canvas hammock-type bedding ships, and bunk beds, single and double. Those memories of long ago make my body ache as I grow older.

The sleeping bag during the Korean War was great and kept your body warm in the winter, but in a combat atmosphere, you slept on the ground, in a fighting hole, deep enough to where your head was just below ground level, and your buddy stayed awake, watching for the enemy, while you grabbed a quick snooze. The sleep was never deep, as you could hear animals – rats- running in front of your lines, still hear the artillery firing at the other side. You could smell a strong odor of gun powder, sulfur, and just the stench of the air surrounding your present position. A clean breeze would fill my lungs, with fresh air coming off the rice paddies around us, but that soon had the odor of human waste, as the paddies were fertilized with it.

I felt every imaginable type of insect of the night eating on my body. It it started raining, you would warp your bag around you body, put your poncho over you, and sit on an ammo crate to get off the ground. You would have your steel helmet on your head, and your weapon under this get-up – at the reading to come out fighting. The motivation for a Marine to be on the alert in this situation was strong. There was an army unit, caught in their sleeping bags asleep, and that was a disaster. A number of soldiers were bayoneted and shot to death because they couldn't get out of their bags. Any time we had good weather, the bag was aired out.

My favorite bed is the bunk on a troop transport ship, sailing back and forth from the Orient to the States, making the trip in about two weeks each way. The individual berthing space was about 3x7 feet; a piece of canvas with holes four inches apart for lasing down on a metal frame, which made it a very tight piece of bedding. No mattress. These spaces held four or five bunks from the deck to the ceiling, with about 30 inches between your space and the next person above you. There were no pillow, sheets or blankets. Your blanket from your Combat Pack, which you carried ashore with all your personal items, was used as a pillow. Your rifle was tied to this space, your helmet, cartridge belt, bayonet, and any other items you owned were placed on your space, and you could either sleep in your skivvies or your trousers.

The air was always warm, humid, stale, and smelly from the men throwing up from seasickness before they could make it to the head – or topside, where they could get that fresh cold ocean breeze in their faces. Each compartment held about 100 Marines, and shower facilities for troops was saltwater straight out of the ocean, so showing, for most, was every third or fourth day. The entrance to the toilets was wide open, adding to the aroma of a lot of body odor.

The men learned never to grab the bottom rack. The top rack was a little more spacious and they didn't have to worry about a seasick person barfing on them. Only the troops got the honor of these berthing areas; permanent personnel got the cabin type accommodations for ocean voyagers. Most Marines spent a lot of time on deck during the waking hours, cleaning their weapons, reading, sleeping, telling tall tales from their past young lives, and just enjoying breathing in that fresh salty air. A person will never forget his trip on a troop ship.

I have slept on canvas-type civilian camping cots, bunk beds – single, double, triple high – and I have gotten a good night's sleep. Now I cannot sleep on cots or bunks, for the fear of rolling off onto the floor. Only the king-size bed is my favorite, giving me plenty of room for thrashing around without finding myself on the floor, not able to get up.