Fear and Loathing on the Island of Broken Cars

Wow. It has been quite a while since I’ve posted on the old blog. A lot has happened since September, perhaps too much to record in a narrative format. Instead I will use a quick and dirty bullet point approach. Here goes:

Car Issues:

• As of last post, car was broken and needed a new computer box
  
• Found a used computer box at a junk yard for $125
  
• Had it installed on the car… but it didn’t work
  
• Junk yard refused to take it back
  
• Found guy who repairs computer boxes
  
• Paid guy $400 to fix my junk yard computer box
  
• Computer box guy took 2 weeks to fix computer box
  
• Forced to rent a car for a week
  
• After nearly a month and $900 in expenses, my car runs again
  
• Named car “Howley Carabao” in both disgust and reluctant admiration in it's stubborn refusal to run

Work Stuff

• Work is very busy… increasing demand for ranging
  
• Get to go to Grand Canyon National Park in December for training
  
• Taking a week off after training to visit the Tennessee (Dec 13-21)
  
• Back in time to celebrate Christmas on the beach

Other stuff:

• Thesis work continues… bleh
  
• Interest in thesis topic evaporates
  
• Aversion to thesis topic and Civil War in general increases
  
• Guam’s rainy season has ended, yet it continues to rain everyday but there is more wind and a greater chance for super typhoons
  
• Lived through 2 more earthquakes – last one was a 5.2
  
• Visited Talofofo Falls Park… it was hilarious (I’ll explain in a future post)

Greatest thing that’s happened in many years:

• Barack Obama elected President of the United States of America
• Hope increases
  

The Car Saga Continues... Damn it.

I hate to interrupt my self enforced thesis sabbatical, but I must utilize my blog to lament my seemingly inescapable curse (a.k.a. vent and bitch). Unfortunately the never ending car saga continues to plague my miserable life. Just when I finally sold my last Guam Bomb after four months of searching for a buyer and breathed a long overdue sigh of relief, hopeful that my car troubles were perhaps finally over, that after purchasing three cars I had finally found an economical and DEPENDABLE method of transportation... but no. My third car car is dead and I am again forced to scramble to find a quick solution... with minimal financial resources.

It all started on Monday. It was my day off. After preparing for a series of errands, I slid gracefully into the driver's seat of my 1993 Toyota Corolla DX Waggon, put the key into the ignition and started the engine. As the car idled, I thoughtfully selected a suitable compact disk and inserted it into the player. At that moment the car died, yet I remained completely unfazed. It was not uncommon for the car to stall during idle, especially when it was cold or raining. But, much to my frustration, it would not start again. Although I was frustrated, I was still largely unconcerned. It must be the battery, I thought. I had not used the car in nearly three days and the battery probably lost its charge somehow. I went back inside and waited for Robert to get home from work.

Once Robert arrived, he pulled his car next to mine for a jump. It had no effect, the car would attempt to start like before, but stubbornly refused to turn over. Umm... Now we have a problem. But wait, I thought, the car is almost out of gas and has been setting at an acute angle for days, perhaps if we only push the car onto level ground, it will start. We tried in vain to push the car up the incline, to no avail. Next, at my request, Robert tried to push the carolla with his jeep. As you can imagine, this insane attempt to push my car not only ended in failure, but added further damage to the front bumper and headlight of my carolla. Luckily, Robert's jeep was unscathed. Next we ventured down the road into Talofofo Village proper to investigate the availability of rope. I found a $7 tow rope made of cheap nylon next to an ancient set of pantyhose and Drano. After racing back home, we strapped the rope to our cars and much to my surprise, pulled my car onto a level part of the lawn. It still refused to start. Crap. Now I have to pay to have this piece of shit car towed down from Talofofo to a repair shop. I expressed my growing anger to Robert, who suggested a bold and perhaps rash plan of action. He offered to use my new rope and pull my corolla down to Agat - a distance of almost 15 miles over hills, valleys and hairpin curves. What an insanely idiotic foolhardy idea - not to mention dangerous and totally illegal!!! It could not only result in a hefty fine, but serious damage to both of our cars. I quickly agreed.

We waited until the cover of darkness - about 9:30 and began our trek. We tied the nylon rope to our frames (not the bumpers) and took off. Robert drove his jeep wrangler while I rode in my unresponsive corolla, but before we began Robert gave me a quick and dirty tutorial on pulling cars. "Try to keep the rope taught at all times. OK? Let's go." As we drove through Talofofo, with people pointing and staring, I quickly realized that this towing business was going to be far more difficult than I initially realized. Robert would only slow to a crawl at stop signs, and of course I had no control to stop or go, I was primarily concerned with making sure I didn't slam into Robert's jeep a mere three feet in front of me. Soon we were out of Talofofo and into the deep hills, and sharp curves of the 11 miles of "Cross Island Road" to Agat. It was sheer terror. My heart raced and I hunched over the wheel in a death grip, sweat poured from my brow in puddles. As we navigated the turns and steep descents, the only periods of relief were the slow laborious ascent up hills. Finally, after about 45 minutes, and what felt like eons, we were in Agat. Phew. At the end of our journey, as we waited at a stand still to turn into a service center, I heard the horrible sound of a car screeching to a sudden halt behind me. I closed my eyes and prepared for the inevitable crash, but it did not come. I looked behind me and saw the car only a few inches from mine. Then we began to move into the parking lot. WE MADE IT! What an adventure. On the ride back home I realized, looking down at my still trembling hands, I was in desperate need of a tall bourbon.

The next day, I returned to my car. It was at a gas station with an attached lube and tire shop. I kindly asked the mechanic to examine the car and call me with an estimate. I returned with Robert at lunch. He suggested that I purchase new plugs, wires, distributor cap, and rotor (a tune up) for him to install. I purchased the items at a nearby Napa ($187) and returned. After another few hours, he called me with some bad news. The tune up had no effect on the car. It still refused to start. The mechanic confessed that he had a suspicion that the problem was electrical in nature and he did not have the tools nor the expertise to diagnose or fix the problem. Crap. The mechanic refused pay, but I gave him twenty dollars anyway and after calling almost every tow service on island, I found the best deal for a real tow to yet another mechanic. I met the tow guy an hour later and followed him in Robert's jeep to Pacific Tyre

By this point the Pacific Tyre mechanics new me by name. I had been in and out of that place at least a dozen times since I got my first car back in March and I had recently purchased new tires for my corolla after one of the tires had a severe tread separation occur. "It's me again," I greeted the guy at the front desk. "I'm concerned you're not getting enough business, so I thought I would bring you my car to look at again." After a few laughs, they took a look at my car. I watched as they bypassed the car's computer using a paperclip to connect two fuses. It immediately started and ran. "Awesome!" I nearly yelled. I spoke to soon. I continued to watch as they pulled the car's computer out from underneath the dash. The computer, or the ECU (Engine Control Unit) manages the car's air-fuel ratio and fuel injectors to ensure the best fuel economy and lowest emission of carbon monoxide. If you ask me, it only exists to create tremendous anger and disgust.

After they pulled the computer out, the mechanic asked me to smell it. Much to my horror, it had an overwhelming smell of burnt plastic. They opened the computer's metal case to reveal the circuit board - almost a third of it was blackened and burnt, it was totally fried. "So how much does a new one of these cost?" I hesitantly asked. "Over $1,000 new, but you probably can't find one on island." The mechanic, seeing my utter shock continued, "there might be a used one in a junk yard, but this waggon is different than most corollas so you will probably have to order it on ebay."

So now I am frantically searching ebay and the interweb for a model 7A-FE computer box (ECU) for a 1993 Toyota corolla dx wagon.

Well, at least I am consistent - every car I have purchased on Guam is a piece of shit. I wish I had paid the $3,000 to ship my truck over here.

The Great Guamanian Car Saga Part IV: The End?

So I finally sold my Cadillac on Saturday. Whew, what a relief. And I only lost $400. Awesome? I bought that damn car an drove it for two weeks then it sat broke down for over four months. Now maybe I can afford to take a trip somewhere... Perhaps Manila, Chuk, or Bali, maybe Hong Kong, or Palau, or Tokyo. Or maybe not.

Actually, dear readers, I will be taking a hiatus from the blog for a long while. If you are dying for a post I might throw up a chapter of my thesis (which I will be working on diligently until it is done). No really, I will.

Seriously.

Tinian

After a few days on Saipan, a couple of coworkers and I took the ferry to Tinian, five miles south of Saipan. Tinain, like Saipan, was once a Spanish then a German colony. Japan captured the Mariana Islands from Germany during WWI. Over the next thirty years, Tinian and Saipan were converted into huge sugar cane production colonies and tens of thousands of Japanese colonists moved to the islands. On July 24, 1944, American forces landed on Tinian and executed what would later be called the most successful amphibious landing of all of WWII. Tinian was then transformed into the largest air base in the world for the new B-29 Superfortresses built to bomb Japan. Over 1,000 B-29s were stationed on Tinian alone.

Tinian

Tinian is roughly the same size and shape as Manhattan. The Americans created a huge road network and named all the roads after streets in New York. This was the main road - and still is today - Broadway.

Prewar Japanese shrine

Another Prewar Japanese shrine at what was once the a terminal on Tinian's railroad

Japanese communications bunker. The Americans used it as a slaughterhouse

Another Japanese shrine

White Beach - American forces landed on this narrow beach. The Japanese, who expected the Americans to land on the southern beach were totally taken by surprise.

Japanese bunker on White Beach

American landing craft a short distance from White Beach

Part of the North Field complex of 4 huge runways (named Able, Baker, Charlie, and Dog), this was a specially built "Atomic Bomb Pit" designed to hoist a 9,000lb atomic bomb into the belly of a B-29. Today they are covered by a protective glass roof.

Inside one of the pits were pictures of the atomic bomb being lifted into the Enola Gay.

Runway Able

On this lonely 8,000 foot stretch of concrete in August, 1945, two planes took off carrying atomic bombs that were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki

Tinain from the air - you can barely make out runway Able in the center of the picture.

Saipan

As part of my very tedious and boring job, I was sent on a trip to our sister park, American Memorial Park (www.nps.gov/amme) on the island of Saipan to help celebrate their 30th Anniversary. Those crazy people PAID me to go to Saipan! MUHA-HA-HA-HA!

Being a park ranger is a tough job, but somebody has to do it...

Seriously though, Saipan was a very bloody battle that was much more difficult than the Americans anticipated. After almost a month of fierce fighting, nearly 3,500 Americans and over 28,000 Japanese were dead. Afterward, Saipan, along with Tinian and Guam became a major American airbase for the strategic bombing of Japan.

Saipan is amazingly beautiful. In many ways it is more stunning and remarkable than Guam. The only downside is that due to a totally dysfunctional government, there is no power about half the time. I mean seriously, the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands (CNMI) government is so corrupt and dysfunctional it made Gov Guam look like a model of efficient bureaucracy in comparison. That's saying something.

Here are some photographs:

Me in my living history costume... Once a fake Marine, always a fake Marine!

The crew

An American Sherman tank the floundered on the reef flat on its way to shore June 15, 1944.

Marpi Point - over 8,000 Japanese civilians jumped to their deaths from this cliff

Japanese monuments at Marpi Point also known as "Bonsai Cliff"

Looking north from Marpi Point towards "Suicide Cliff"

NPS produced wayside interpretive marker at Marpi Point. One of the original titles was - I kid you not - "Don't Jump!" I'm glad they went with "Death and Duty""

An interesting rock formation at Latter Beach

Huge Japanese munitions bunker at the Aslito Airfield, renamed Isley Field by the Americans, now known as the Saipan International Airport.

Japanese air raid bunker - there are at least a dozen of these all over the place.

Japanese Type 97 Medium Tank with 75mm gun near the airport

Looking south at Tinian, then Aguijan (uninhabited) then in the distance, Rota

Bird Island - Saipan actually has birds... for now.

Looking south at Marpi Point from the heights of "Suicide Cliff" where thousands of Japanese soldiers jumped to their deaths.

The "Last Command Post" Japanese bunker

Various Japanese guns, most are 120mm. They were moved from their original emplacements.

A Japanese 6 inch gun (1900 British Witworth-Armstrong model) in its original casemated emplacement at Naftan Point. One of four in a battery (the other 3 guns were removed by scrap dealers in the 1950s).

Me with the gun

Also on Naftan Point deep in the jungle were 3 Japanese concrete gun revetments that were never completed

Japanese "German Style" bunker

Inside the bunker

According to local legend and much speculation, Amelia Earhart was executed in this Japanese built prison after crashing on a Japanese held island during her tragic trans-Pacific flight in 1937.

Japanese Prison Cell Block

On Mount Topachau, at 1,500 feet, the highest point in Saipan.

From the plane ride back to Guam - Saipan is on the right, Tinian on the left.

I don't mean to rub it in your face but that was a business trip.

Flashback!

As I was looking through the blog today, I realized there are no pictures or stories from my first National Park Unit - Stones River National Battlefield. So I thought I would toss a couple pictures in. Also, I spoke with a friend from Tennessee today, she is working on her PhD in the same program I am still in. Actually the work on my thesis could more aptly be called FORLORN HOPE: the never ending struggle against procrastination. She mentioned that I am now an official cautionary tale at MTSU. They now tell students, "Whatever you do, DO NOT get a job in the National Park Service UNTIL you finish your degree!" Am I pathetic or what?

Anyway, so here are some memories of last year:

Jim, John, me, and Gib

Giving a program at the National Cemetery

Dressed in my finest Yankee wool

Me with Ed Bearss, former Marine and WWII vet, notable Civil War historian and former Chief Historian of the National Park Service

GUNS!

Cool car

Killing exotic plants

And finally, me firing the cannon. I am at the 3rd position (pulling the friction primer) at the piece closest to camera.

30th Anniversary

Last weekend War In the Pacific National Historical Park turned 30. After much preparation and stress, we held two events to mark the occasion. First, on Friday night we hosted a reception and dedication of the T. Stell Newman Visitor Center. For the occasion we flew in Cy O'Brian, a WWII veteran who was with the 3rd Marine Division during the battle for Guam. On Saturday provided a "Meet the Park Units" program with free busses. I conducted a program at Asan Bay Overlook. Here is my program:

"When we talk about what happened during the liberation of Guam we often talk about the leaders – the generals and admirals and the movement of large bodies of troops across Guam’s rugged landscape. This is important in how we understand what happened here but it also overshadows some of the most important stories this island has to offer. For as much as the Liberation of Guam is a story of leadership and strategy it is also the compilation of tens of thousands of stories of the remarkable men and women who lived through the catastrophic events of World War II and each of these stories is significant and compelling. Today I would like to share one of them with you.

Geary Ralph Bunschu was born in 1919 in Oakland, California. Geary had one older sister, Barbra. He was named after his granddad, Thomas Geary, a former member of Congress. Geary’s great grandfather, Charles Bunschu was born in Manheim, Germany in 1842 and immigrated to California where he started California’s first winery. As you can probably imagine, by the time Geary was born, the Bundschu family was pretty well off, one of California’s leading families. While Geary was growing up on Monte Vista Avenue in Oakland, the United States was still struggling to recover from the Great Depression. At a time when many Americans were wondering if they were ever going to find a job or even a meal to eat, Geary was wondering where he was going to college. This was at a time that only the elite could get into college let alone afford it. In 1937, the same year that the Golden Gate Bridge was completed near Geary’s home in Oakland, the same year Japan invaded China and began a war that would not end for eight years, Geary enrolled at the University of California at Berkeley.

For the first time in Geary’s life he was away from home and independent. Geary flourished at Berkeley and became a very popular man on campus. He was a member of the Delta Upsilon Fraternity, the Winged Helmet Society, the Beta Beta Men’s Honor Society, the Skull and Keys Honor Society, and he also somehow found time to run on Berkeley’s track team. Needless to say, Geary was very busy. While Geary was attending class, planning fraternity formals or running in track meets, he probably wasn’t too concerned about world events. He probably didn’t consider how a war in Asia thousands of miles away could possibly have any impact on his life or even during Geary’s junior year when Germany invaded Poland he probably didn’t stop and evaluate how a new war in Europe would effect his career options.

After four busy but fun years, Geary graduated in 1941 with a General Curriculum degree. The future looked bright for Geary – anything was possible. But the veneer of solace and isolation misleadingly imposed by distance and ignorance was irrevocably shattered on the morning of December 7, 1941. On that fateful day, Japan not only bombed Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, but also this island (Guam) and began an unprecedented offensive that captured thousands of miles of territory from Singapore to Hong Kong and from Guam to Rangoon. Like countless other young American men, Geary was confronted with a momentous and life altering decision. It wasn’t if Geary would serve his country in a time of war, no, that was a given. The question for Geary was how.

Geary was a member of a prominent California family and he was college graduate – a rare commodity. Geary could serve in many capacities in fields such as planning, logistics, intelligence, or perhaps serve as a staff officer for a general. There were literally hundreds of options for Geary – options that did not involve immanent danger or combat. But Geary didn’t choose those options. Geary chose the United States Marine Corps and with this choice, Geary certainly understood that he would inevitably be put in harm’s way.

As a college graduate Geary was eligible to attend a new program – the Officer Candidate School or OCS. After completing OCS, Geary was commissioned a second lieutenant in the marines. In June of 1942, he was ordered to report for duty in North Carolina and became part of a new regiment forming there – the 3rd Marines. After only two months, Geary was back in California where, along with his new regiment, he boarded a ship to destinations unknown. As his ship sailed away from San Diego, perhaps Geary watched as the California coastline disappeared through the horizon and maybe Geary wondered when – if ever – he would see his home or his family again.

After a long and uneventful voyage, Geary disembarked at American Samoa where the 3rd Marines would engage in the most intense mountain and jungle warfare training the Marines had to offer. The Samoa’s were far from battle, yet the 3rd Marines began to have significant casualties not from bullets or bombs but from jungle diseases like malaria and especially filariasis. Eventually, Geary and his unit were transferred to New Zealand to recuperate not from battle but from training! After a couple months, they were transferred to the newly captured island of Guadalcanal. Several more months passed and Geary had been in the Pacific for over a year, but had not heard a shot fired in anger and had still not seen the indescribable carnage of battle.

Finally, in October, 1943, Geary boarded a boat that would take him into danger for the first time. Geary and the 3rd Marines, part of the 3rd Marine Division were headed for Bougainville. Bougainville was heavily defended by Japanese soldiers. On the early hours of November 1, 1943, Geary climbed down a cargo net into a landing craft. For the first time in his life, Geary was experiencing the sensations of battle – the deafening sounds, the acrid smell of gunpowder and cordite, and the unbelievable sights of death and destruction. Geary would never be the same. During the ride to the beach, Geary watched in horror as the landing craft to his left took a direct hit – killing all on board in an instant. Somehow Geary made it to shore. Once ashore Geary learned that the landing craft he saw destroyed contained most of the officers of his battalion. Not only did he have to lead as a junior officer, but Geary had to step up and help lead his battalion. After a short but intense battle, Bougainville was over for the 3rd Marines. Geary’s 1st battalion suffered more casualties than any other battalion in the regiment.

After Bougainville, Geary and the 3rd Marine Division were transferred back to Guadalcanal to recuperate and train. Geary became a captain and commander of Able Company, 1st Battalion, 3rd Marines, 3rd Marine Division. As a company commander, Geary was responsible for over 200 young Marines and knew that he would inevitably order many of them to their deaths. After another six months, Geary again boarded a troopship destined for battle, but this time it would be different. Unlike the dozens of island battlefields before, the next battle was not just another island or another step towards Japan, no, this island was Guam. Guam was America and the fate of 22,000 Americans hung in the balance. Geary and the men of the 3rd Marines were imbued with a sense of mission and understood the significance of the coming battle. Guam was the first American territory invaded by Japan and 150 Marines were captured in the process.

While on board the troopship, Geary studied his company’s objective. It was the first ridge rising from the beach and his men named it “Bundschu Ridge.” (Here I point to the actual ridge) It was Geary’s ridge and they were to capture it in the first hours of the attack. But Geary and his men waited on the ship as two weeks ticked by, then another week and another and another and another. For six long miserable weeks Geary waited aboard the wretched, stinking, cramped, reeking troopships for the battle to begin. What Geary didn’t know was that the Guam invasion had been postponed for nearly a month because the battle to capture the nearby island of Saipan had taken far more time and proven far more difficult than anyone imagined. Finally in the predawn hours of July 21, 1944, Geary again climbed down a cargo net into a landing craft for the short but terrifying ride to the beach.

The sun rose above Guam as Geary rode in to battle and perhaps Geary remembered the fate of those officers at Bougainville. Despite heavy Japanese fire, Geary made it in and immediately began to organize his company under fire. Geary set up two of his three platoons in attack and one in support and then advanced toward his ridge, but was immediately shocked and appalled. The ridge he saw in front of him was completely different than the one he had studied for hours on the maps aboard the ship. It was much higher, larger, and steeper. The maps Geary was given were totally inaccurate. The men of Able Company would not only have a difficult fight to capture an essential Japanese position, but they had to climb on their hands and knees in an arduous awkward scramble in order to do it. Despite this setback, Geary couldn’t stop and reevaluate his options; he didn’t have time to create a new plan. Geary had to attack anyway.

Geary’s ridge was not only much more imposing geographically, but more importantly it was honeycombed with determined Japanese defenders. As much as Geary and the Marines had planned, so too had the Japanese. Their objective was to hurl Geary and his men back into the ocean. Geary and his men were under constant fire from dozens of well positioned machine guns and mortars. Soon after the attack began, Able Company was taking intense fire from the front and enfilading fire from both flanks. Geary committed his third platoon. Things looked bleak. At 10:45, Geary radioed his superior, Major Aplington at 1st Battalion. He requested stretcher bearers but above all, water. Any water that Geary and his company drank had to come from the ships to the shore and then carried up the steep slope. Very little water was making it to Geary’s men. Now, men were not only falling from Japanese fire, but from exhaustion and dehydration in the sweltering jungle. By noon, Able Company had suffered nearly 50 percent casualties. After hours of heavy fighting and severe losses, Geary had come to a distressing conclusion; Able Company could not capture the ridge. Geary again radioed Major Aplington and requested permission to pull out. Major Aplington refused and reminded Geary that there was no where to go accept the beach – the ridge had to be taken. Geary was given a direct order to launch a new attack.

By now, Geary was certainly frustrated and exhausted. Many of his best men and officers were dead or wounded. Those that were left were severely fatigued and demoralized. Yet Geary had no choice – he had to obey the order. Geary, now wounded in the arm, organized what was left of his company and because there were only two other officers left, he had to personally take command of one of his three platoons. He ordered the company to wait until dusk before launching the new attack. Despite some initial resistance, the Japanese appeared to give way. Soon the top of the ridge was only 100 yards away then the resistance stiffened. Geary and his platoon encountered a machine gun nest that blocked any advance. Geary ordered his platoon to take cover and personally reconnoitered the position. Despite his wound and making himself a clear target, Geary was able to lob grenades into the enemy position, destroying it and enabling the platoon to advance. During this action, Geary was again severely wounded. During the last few yards of the attack, the Japanese were so close they began rolling grenades down toward Able Company. But despite the enemy resistance, despite the odds, Able Company reached to top of Bundschu ridge… but they couldn’t hold it. The Japanese launched a strong counter attack throwing Able Company all the way back to the beach in disarray. They carried with them their wounded commander, Captain Bundschu.

As night fell on Guam, Geary was placed in a hospital tent on Asan Beach. Major Aplington counted what was left of Able Company – only 20 percent. Able Company had lost 80 percent, lost all but one officer, and was back where they started that morning having accomplished none of their objectives.

As the sun rose over Guam on July 22, 1944, it had been over three years since Geary graduated from Berkeley when the future seemed so bright and the world wide open. But instead of realizing his dreams, Geary Bundschu died in a crowded hospital tent on Asan Beach 7,000 miles away from home. He was 25. The battle for Guam had only just begun.

Geary is now back at home in California buried at the Golden Gate National Cemetery, Section K, plot 156. He was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross, the second highest military honor. Today Geary’s name is one of over 16,000 names that appear on the Memorial Wall (point towards wall) remembering the Americans servicemen that died and Chamorro people that were killed or suffered war atrocities during the Japanese occupation and Liberation of Guam.

That was just one of tens of thousands of stories that make up the battle to liberate Guam. I hope that this story has perhaps given you a more intimate and human perspective to what this war was like to one person caught up it it’s furry."

Cy O'Brian came by and listened to my program towards the end of the day. I was intimidated by his presence, but managed to finish the program. Afterwards, Cy came up to me and thanked me for doing the program and mentioned that he had met Geary on Bougainville and watched Able company fight on Bundschu ridge.

The next day, Sunday, I was on the front page of the Pacific Daily News (Guam's newspaper).

http://www.guampdn.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080817/NEWS01/808170307/1002/NEWS17