Captivated Me

The road to the top of Mount Petosukura is a gentle, winding, palm-lined slope. At its height stands a rusting relic of a radar tower – called Pacific Barrier Radar III, or PACBAR III – considered the last vestige of the US military’s Cold War surveillance in this region of the world. The US had two similar towers in the Solomon Islands and the Philippines at the time, but PACBAR III bridged the gap in a blind spot in the Pacific here on Saipan, where it could detect Soviet missile launches and satellites that its two siblings could not see.

PACBAR III’s mission was short-lived. It was operational in the very late 1980s, then no longer of use come the endings of the Cold War in 1991. Since then, it (along with the surrounding buildings associated with it) has been slowly but surely taken back by the elements – the jungle, rust, and mildew – and colored with the expressions of local wall artists.

A short jaunt east from the site leads to jagged cliffs overlooking the windward side of the island, the gorgeous Pacific, and the dense Marpi jungle. Varieties of green and blue are on full display at this overlook, in stark contrast to the earthen oranges and yellows of the decaying PACBAR site just steps away.

I think about what it must have felt like to live in the Cold War times. Then I think about how, somehow, it feels like the world is always at war. And as precious lives are lost in conflict in Ukraine, Syria, Myanmar, the DRC, and more every day,

I cannot help but think,

When will we learn?