Travel: The Beach

Gearhart, OR

The Battlefield

It was on this beach that some of the worlds fiercest plastic army men battles took place. Pitting green vs gray, for hours on end my Father and I would engage in military combat WWII style deep in the dunes and beach grass of the Gearhart coast. Obviously I was always the diminutive green men, aka, the United States of God Bless America. My dad was relegated to battling with the grays, the hated enemy depicting the Nazi regime. These made for History Channel epic battles consisted of brilliantly strategic set-up, well planned out and executed attack formations and edge of your seat combat. We took our time mapping out our war plans then took turns sending imaginary volleys back and forth red rover style. Plastic men went flying. Sand exploded everywhere. Grenades broke gaps within the flanks of kneeling riflemen. Kamikaze tanks rumbled across open terrain taking no prisoners. Brave men crawled there way into enemy territory. Machine gun totting jeeps burst into action from their well camouflaged sand holes. We dueled back and forth until the gray army was no more. There were two reasons the green men always won. #1: USA. #2: I had well over twice as many green men as I did gray. Even though he was the wiser strategist and more knowledgeable general, my Dad unfortunately always took to the battlefield at a sever disadvantage. And as any good 7 year old military strategist would do, I exploited that disadvantage. For it was on this beautiful Gearhart beach that my dad taught me how to valiantly hold my own as a green army-men war reenactment commander.

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He also taught me how to dig a hole in the sand and happily pee in public.