below our unit. When we made too much noise, Mr Cohen would bang on the ceiling with a broom handle to quiet things down. IDENTICATION CARD When I arrived at the Balboa Naval Hospital, I did not have an identification card. The hospital administration personnel told me it would take a couple of days to have me processed for a new I.D. card because the I.D. cards were only issued at the Navy Federal Building in downtown San Diego. If I wanted to speed up the process, I could go down to the Federal Building myself to get an I.D. card. When I tried to enter the building, I was accosted by a civilian uniformed security guard who wanted to see my I.D. After some explaining and arguing, he finally agreed to accompany me to the office where I could get an I.D. card. I met with an old ex-retired disgruntled Navy commander who couldn?t seem to understand why I was so negligent to lose my I.D. card. I told him I was a Hornet survivor, aviator, and the only I.D. we wore while flying was our dog tags. My wallet and I.D. card were left in the squadron ready room. He opened up the collar of his shirt and showed me his I.D. card attached to a plastic cord that was around his neck. I told him it was a great innovation for people commanding SD -4s (steel desk 4 drawers) but was impractical for combat ships. I told