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Liberty Call, Japan
By Marc "Devil Dog Of The Web" Iseli / Updated Dec. 2025
When I was deployed to Iwakuni, Japan, in 1981, life was very different from what Marines experience today. The absence of modern communication, internet access, and portable technology created a lifestyle that was more isolated from home but often more socially connected with my fellow Marines. The only forms of news from the U.S. were Armed Forces Radio with Paul Harvey and the Stars and Stripes Newspaper. Limited communication with the U.S. and our families allowed us to leave the base and immerse ourselves in local Japanese culture.

Japan was one of those rare overseas gigs where you could actually get off base without a map, a translator, and divine intervention. Marines could stumble into local towns, hit up ramen joints and izakayas, and pretend we were soaking up culture instead of just looking for the next cold beer. Liberty meant piling into a train with the rest of the squad, heading for Iwakuni City, Miyajima Island, Hiroshima, or wherever else we thought we could get away with. Back in '81 at MCAS Iwakuni, we mostly stuck together, safety in numbers and all that, because nothing says 'embracing Japanese culture' like a pack of Marines trying not to get lost. Here are a few places that actually stuck in my memory, for better or worse.

We took a weekend excursion for a day trip to Iwakuni City, which is basically a stone’s throw from MCAS, about a 20-minute bus ride. The main attraction? Kintai Bridge. Five wooden arches strung together like some overachieving popsicle stick project, stretching across the Nishiki River since 1673. Apparently, the locals got tired of their bridges washing away every time the river threw a tantrum, so they built this one mostly without nails, because apparently, nails had not been invented yet. The joinery is so complicated that it probably gave the samurai carpenters nightmares. Right up the hill, there’s Iwakuni Castle, perched 660 feet above the river, looking down on the city like it owns the place. Built in 1608 by some samurai bigwig, then torn down and rebuilt in 1962 because, why not? Gotta keep the tourists happy. Mingled with the locals, did some tourist shit, and called it a day.

Next up on the hit parade: Miyajima Island. After gobbling down our morning chow, we buddied up and humped it over to Iwakuni Station and piled onto the train for a 30-minute ride that was scenic if you kept your eyes open and didn’t blink; the train was moving at warp speed. We’d debark at Miyajimaguchi station, shuffle to the ferry terminal. and try not to look too lost. As the boat rolled up to the island, there was this massive huge red torri gate just floating out in the water, like some kind of Japanese postcard. Even the hard-chargers who thought sightseeing would whip out their cameras for that one. Once we hit the dock, it was straight into a town crawling with wild deer, wooden shops, and enough seafood to make you question your life choices. The standard op was to hoof it over to Itsukushima Shrine, and if the tide was out, you could play Marine explorer and march out onto the sand flats under the torii gate. Somebody always had to , snap a group photo, , just to prove we survived. Then it was up Mount Misen on a steep cable car. that looked like it was last inspected during the Korean War. At the top, more wild deer , plus monkeys who had teeth like lions, ruled the place. A Miyajima run in ‘81 was simple: train, ferry, sacred island, questionable seafood, a few beers, and back to base with enough stories to fill a sea bag. For most of us stuck at MCAS Iwakuni in the 80s, Miyajima was the go-to liberty run, beats sitting in the barracks waxing your carrots.

Visit My Photo Album
Photos of Kintai Bridge, Iwakuni City.

Visit My Photo Album
Photos of Miyajima Island.

Alright, you glorious Rat Phixers and Phlyers, if we ever survived a TAD, a Det, or a BOHICA, who haven't, and you didn’t think I was the biggest gaff off in the squadron. Got a sea story, or some grainy photos your ex didn’t set on fire, and they’re only slightly illegal? Send ‘em by email, snail mail, or safety wire it to a carrier pigeon. I collect ‘em all, just nothing that would incriminate me.
80svmfp3@gmail.com

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