The Nights ‘The Del’ went to war
By Tom Morrow
One of the great experiences of my life was as vice president of communications and historical archives at the world-famous Hotel del Coronado, across the bay from San Diego.
It was, indeed a three-year ride sifting through (at the time) was nearly a century of stories, photos, and documents. The rich and powerful, from U.S. presidents to British royalty, to Hollywood celebrities, and even a few ghosts were among the many stories and photos of one-time hotel guests I found in my research.
From 1942 to 1945 the hotel also served as a U.S. Navy billeting facility for officers in flight training at nearby North Island Naval Air Station.
Today, a stay at ‘The Del’ is something most simply dream about, but in 1942, “crashing” at The Del was a nightly occurrence for a few hundred Naval Aviators preparing to embark across the Pacific to the war with Japan.
Housing during World War II was scarce throughout San Diego because of the huge military complex of bases and aircraft manufacturing. The Del was called into service to help with that housing crunch, as were many of America’s hotels during World War II.
Some hotels were commandeered and given over to exclusive use by the Navy or the Army, as housing, hospitals, internment centers for foreign diplomats or for secret reasons never disclosed.
But, The Del was able to remain a civilian hotel throughout the war, leasing rooms to Navy as needed.
I learned a great deal about the hotel’s wartime history, but more importantly I got to know some of the people who made that history.
Some of the historical memories are silly: one Navy man surprised his wife with baby ducks, which he kept in the hotel’s bathtub. Other stories are star-studded, indeed. Those reports include sightings of screen actress Maureen O’Hara, boxer Gene Tunney (who taught Navy physical fitness classes on Coronado beach) and Navy Cmdr. and actor Robert Montgomery.
Among the hundreds of letters, notes, and articles were accounts of memorable occasions such as weddings and honeymoons, as well as, details of daily Coronado and San Diego life.
Some stories tell a sadder side of military life. Many of the pilots aboard the USS Bunker Hill had been housed at The Del before they deployed in early 1945. Most, but not all of the pilots, were killed when the Bunker Hill was hit by two Japanese kamikazes.
Many years later when I was a daily columnist at the Blade-Citizen (later it became the North County Times), the late Fred Swearingen of Carlsbad talked fondly of The Del as officer quarters during the War. (Fred became one of the National Football League’s top referees). He was one of the surviving Bunker Hill pilots. He fondly recalled living at The Del, telling me he had many wonderful nights of partying before shipping out in 1945.
“Those six months at The Del was the best war I ever fought,” Swearingen concluded.
It’s Something Like A War…
Most of us living today have never experienced anything like the quarantine days of the past three months. There have been families, streets, even communities put under quarantine for various reasons or situations in the past, but nothing like today nearly “world-wide” shutdown caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. A global shutdown. Think of it – nothing in modern history comes close to a world-wide shutdown.
Today’s home sequestering is resulting in something like a war.
Consider what it must have been like for British and European families during the German Blitzkrieg days of World War II. Millions were left homeless with no way to find enough food to get them and their families through the day. Japan left much of eastern Asia in the same situation. Half of the world’s population couldn’t be sure of a roof over their heads.
While we aren’t having any problems having roofs over our heads or enough to eat, there are many similarities. There’s little or no money coming in for most of those families not relying on a government pension.
During WWII, you could hear gunfire or bombs dropping. Today, it could be considered worse because the killer virus is silent and invisible.
Those who are supposedly in the know speculate we could be in this situation for up to two years. That’s doubtful, but it nonetheless gives us pause. Could wearing a facemask and keeping out of public and kept in our homes become a way of life? For many people out of work or having a way of earning money even have a home for very long?
How long will we be able to keep up today’s relative happy faces beneath our masks?
The survivors of World War II got through it. We can as well in our present-day circumstances. We just have to maintain an attitude of “hoping for the best and anticipating the worst.”
Hunker down and wash your hands.
Humorous or human-interest stories or notes for this osidenews.com column can be forwarded via e-mail to me at: quotetaker@msn.com