Nine World War II veterans who recently assembled in Fayetteville can tell you where in the world is the island of Attu: they spent a lifetime there one year.

Veterans of the United States Coast Guard, the men served on Attu, the westernmost of Alaska's Aleutian islands, where they maintained a radio-navigation station. Attu is about 1500 miles from the Alaska mainland and is only about 40 miles long by 20 miles wide.

For American forces in the area at Russia's doorstep and in Japan's neighborhood air and sea navigation would have been impossible without Attu and similar stations. Rocky, rainy and dangerous, the island was home to these veterans around 1945-47, with most serving only a year before rotating to other bases.

USCG personnel and their behind-the-scenes duties were of extreme importance to the war effort, says Ardon Smith, Fayetteville resident who organized the reunion of his old unit from Attu.

Smith said this month's three-day event was the second reunion for the 70-76-year-olds, who first got together two years ago at the home of their OIC (officer in charge) in Hartwell, Ga., Hollis (Pete) Peden. At the Holiday Inn Express in Fayetteville with the guys, Peden sported a "USCG ATTU" ball cap. Up at Attu now, he says, the Coast Guard is "still trying to keep Chinese fishing boats out of U.S. waters; they trail nets that are miles long, and can deplete the fish in no time." Peden said he worked at the Navy Shipyard in Philadelphia before retiring to Georgia.

At the reunion also were John Barago, New Town, Conn., retired steelworker; Jimmy Yandle, Odum, Ga., former electrical department employee at the Atlanta Journal-Constitution; Dick Griessel, Albany, N.Y., who was with General Electric research and development; Norman Saad, Scottsdale, Ariz., who retired there after teaching school in Connecticut; Brooks Talley, an entrepreneur and former aircraft engineer from Memphis, Tenn.; Henry (Hank) Selasky, Warren, Mich., an insurance adjuster after the war; Stanley (Stump) Reeley, West Columbia, S.C., who says he still has an auto collision repair shop but his son runs it now; Smith, retired from the National Weather Service, and all their wives.

When Army Troops arrived on Attu in 1943 to take it from the Japanese, according to Griessel, the defenders were dug into caves along an access valley.

"They had all winter to work on them," Griessel said, "so they dug three-man caves all along the valley. When the troops arrived, the Japanese let them pass through the valley and attacked from behind. It didn't take long for our guys to work up a ridgeline attack to come down on them, throwing grenades into the caves. When the Japanese figured out what was happening, some elected to blow up their own grenades inside the caves before the U.S. troops could reach them."

Griessel has compiled a small book about the Coast Guard war experiences on and around Attu, "mostly photographs," he says. He promised to produce more copies of the book if his buddies would be willing to pay $20; "it costs so much to duplicate the pictures." He calls it a low-tech effort, but his friend "Smitty" Smith was into the latest when he began searching for the guys he served with on Attu.

Smith used the Internet extensively, he said, and still does. He's located other USCG veterans of the era, who were in other places like "Massacre Bay," the "town" at the other end of the island, accessible only by boat.

"Some of us got desperate and decided one time to walk to Massacre Bay," laughed Selasky , "but it didn't take long till we had to turn back -- the terrain was just too rough." Massacre Bay got its name long before the Second World War, Selasky said. He said the story he heard was that native Aleuts were massacred there by the Russians, whose Kamchatka Peninsula, jutting out from the mainland, is only 70 miles from Attu.

The Coast Guard contingent of 15-20 men at a time made up the entire population of the station. If air and sea conditions were right, Smith said, they got mail and supplies about once a month. Sometimes their tours would extend to 13 or 14 months, depending on conditions for getting in to the station; ships carrying Coast Guard replacement personnel often were unable to launch the small boats to take them to the island station.

Their lives there were often boring, but "we were afraid of absolutely nothing," commented Reeley, "we were too young and crazy to be scared, and besides, we were Coast Guard! Though there was one guy (whose name he couldn't remember) who slept with the fire-ax in his bunk for a while." Reeley wouldn't tell how he got his nickname; the guys belly-laughed and told the reporter "you don't want to know."

They obviously retain the camaraderie developed on a tiny island more than 50 years ago.