Visiting Editor BBL, Seattle WA: How can you tell it's springtime in Hawaii? The weather is so warm and beautiful all year long. My first visit was love at first sight with the picturesque islands. It was in February 1945.

I was a 19-year-old sailor, and our troop ship eased into a cove near a beach area on the big island of Hawaii, and stood offshore. Then the quiet beauty was shattered by a very noisy interruption.

Cool tropical breezes were blowing. The surf was gentle. The palm trees were swaying. There were big, fluffy clouds in the sky, and Marine aircraft were bombing the hell out of the beach. The squawk box blared, "Land the landing force!" Marines, fully loaded with heavy gear, eased themselves over the side and down the rope ladders of our ship into LCVP boats bobbing below. Behind us, battleships, cruisers and destroyers were blasting shells over our heads at the beach.

The air cover departed and the shelling stopped. The first wave of Marines slogged ashore, advanced several hundred yards, dug foxholes and began firing at imaginary blockhouses in front of them. Other landing craft brought in more Marines, small artillery pieces, jeeps and trucks. Everything in the invasion seemed to go like clockwork. Of course, this was just a practice exercise, a prelude to what was coming next.

A month or so later, on April Fool's Day, the same military units performed the exercise again on the island of Okinawa. However, this time it was for real, and the blockhouses were not imaginary. It was the last major action of WWII, and proved to be one of the bloodiest.

I've been back to Hawaii many times since. As great as it is to be there, I’m always reminded of my first visit when that peaceful beauty was rudely interrupted by a rehearsal for war.