In the fall of 1974, we were able to schedule a trip to Roi-Namur, an island at the northern end of the atoll. Roi was home to various radars and, unknown to me, would be my place of employment seven years later.
Our taxi. Dropped us off and left us for the day.
Our ride back home.
Another one of those crowded beaches.
Carryover from World War 2, the Japanese commander’s house.
A bunker that didn’t fare too well.
Below, a pill box along the reef waiting for the invasion.
Left, inside the pill box. Below, the view out the gun port.