We were nearing the end of a late-afternoon soccer practice, when coach waved us off the field. Gathered on the sideline, we watched a pair of drab green military helicopters thud down around midfield. Several Marine officers, wearing flak jackets over their camouflage uniforms, hopped out and jogged at the same purposeful pace toward the brick base headquarters building, 50 yards away. There wasn’t a terror threat. This wasn’t a time of war. It was just another day living on Camp Pendleton in the late 1980s. Full story at San Diego Reader