CALIFORNIA ALBUM : Can Marines Survive With No Jughead’s? : Rosemary (Mom) Hamilton, owner of the Oceanside pub, is as tough as her customers. But financial and liquor license problems may force her to close.

When the few and the proud from Camp Pendleton go in search of sustenance and succor, they head for Jughead’s, the beer bar and poolroom whose blunt-talking, no-nonsense proprietor is known as Mom.

Rosemary Hamilton, 63, a.k.a. Ma and Mrs. Hamilton, thinks of Jughead’s as a haven for a bunch of young Marines who are decent, frequently homesick and surprisingly vulnerable to the vicissitudes of Oceanside’s mean streets.

But now the cumulative weight of financial and alcohol license problems may force the closure of Jughead’s, much to the lament of the Marines who are regulars.

“Mom has kept a lot of Marines out of trouble,” said Scott Gallery, 28, a former Marine from Pueblo, Colo., now working for a beer distributor. “We’d come out of the field, all full of testosterone and ready to tear up the world, but Mom gave us a good place to unwind without fights. She’ll whop you upside the head if she sees trouble.”

When Hamilton is in the bar, no one dares sit on her special bar stool, which is marked with a sign, “Boss Parking Only.”

On a recent evening, she interrupted an interview with a reporter to summon a glassy-eyed young man with a close-cropped haircut into the back room for a short chat and then ordered him off the premises.

“It’s Mom’s way or no way,” explained Gallery as the fellow left, muttering darkly but not loud enough for Hamilton to hear.

Hamilton chases away the drug dealers and hookers who sometimes loiter near Oceanside bars and strip joints in hopes of relieving Marines of their pay. She takes down license numbers of drive-by johns. She spreads Karo syrup on a railing across the street from Jughead’s to prevent it from being a perch for hookers.

Jughead’s (formal name: Jughead’s Sands & Suds) has a loyal following among Marines, ex-Marines and a smattering of bikers, surfers and assorted others. During the Persian Gulf War, it became an unofficial command post for network television correspondents looking for Marines to interview.

“Most of the Marines, when they’ve been away on maneuvers six months, the first thing they do when they get back is roar into Jughead’s and give me a big hug,” said Hamilton, a West Virginia native who was once married to a Marine.

On the north wall of Jughead’s is the Marine Corps flag, on the west is a huge U.S. flag, and near the large-screen television is a bumper sticker, “Free Kuwait.” Budweiser contributed a lighted sign of a bulldog wearing a Marine cap.

“Jughead’s is like family,” said David Sharp, 27, a corporal from Osage, Minn. “When I got back from West Pac (a six-month deployment in the Western Pacific), as soon as I got my gear stowed, I was at Jughead’s.”

“Jughead’s is like ‘Cheers,’ ” said Joe Noble, 23, a corporal from Pontiac, Mich. “Everybody really does know your name.”

Jughead’s bleak future is linked inexorably to the lingering problems of downtown Oceanside.

Located at 311 N. Tremont St., the bar is a block away from the intersection of Mission Avenue and Hill Street, which was ground zero for what was once a notorious honky-tonk zone for off-duty Marines.

Gustav Hasford, the ex-Marine whose book “The Short-Timers” was made into the movie “Full Metal Jacket,” recalls Oceanside from the 1970s in his book “A Gypsy Good Time”:

“The civilian slop chute off base was called Oceanside, a pocket paradise of institutionalized sleaze, fertile soil for bad country-Western bands and cheap-ugly women. Outside the bus station, in the hot night, marijuana dealers and pimps, open for business, were strutting up and down the broken white line in the center of the street.”

Today, downtown Oceanside is but a shadow of its former naughty self.

“The area is much cleaner and safer than it used to be,” said Police Lt. Bill Donnelly, a former Marine and Vietnam veteran who remembers the wild days when Vietnam-bound Marines were thoroughly uninterested in decorum. “Unfortunately it’s still trying to live down a horrible reputation.”

The redevelopment agency for this city of 128,000 has struggled, with mixed results, to bring new businesses into downtown and eradicate blight.

Several establishments that Marines of yore would remember are gone, including the 24-hour tattoo parlors. A gleaming downtown City Hall was built.

Just a few blocks west of Jughead’s, a new fishing pier was built and rows of spiffy condominiums sprouted on the beachfront. A sand replenishment project and a new playground made the once rocky beach popular with families.

Still, rejuvenation in the heart of downtown has been slow, expensive and dogged by political controversy. Many businesses that depend on nighttime trade, like Jughead’s, are hurting.

The streets around Jughead’s are dotted with businesses that cater to Marines--laundries, late-night barber shops, military supply stores, pizza and burrito joints. But vacancy signs are common.

Marine brass occasionally warn Marines to avoid downtown. Noncommissioned officers ride with Oceanside police as added incentive for Marines to behave.

To keep Marines out of harm’s way, enlisted men’s clubs and other recreational opportunities have been expanded on base. And if that doesn’t work, the Corps has sent out a clear message: Off-duty trouble, particularly involving drinking or fighting, can hurt your career.

The result is that downtown is largely depopulated, particularly on weekdays. Meanwhile, other beachfront cities, like nearby Carlsbad to the south, are booming with night life and new eateries.

Ken Leighton, an Oceanside native and talk-show host on Carlsbad-based KCEO radio, broadcast his show from Jughead’s on Saturday night in a last-ditch attempt to save the bar. He’s annoyed that the city’s efforts at downtown redevelopment have not been more successful.

“I don’t get it,” said Leighton, sitting at the bar. “This is the only place between San Diego and Los Angeles that is this close to the beach and is still rundown.”

Eli Sanchez, head of the redevelopment agency, blames the sour California economy for hindering the pace of redevelopment. He’s hopeful that the city may soon attract a Marriott resort with 240 rooms and 360 timeshare condominiums.

Oceanside residents have had their hopes raised before about a hotel in the offing for one site or another, only to be disappointed. And even if it does materialize, a hotel near downtown would be too late to help Jughead’s.

Jughead’s is not a big problem for police. “Rosemary is a nice lady and she tries very hard to run a legitimate, clean business,” Donnelly said.

The problem is that downtown Oceanside is classified as a high-crime area, with a crime rate far greater than the overall city. That means the ABC is obliged by law to be strict on businesses that hold liquor licenses.

After an anonymous tip, ABC auditors found that Jughead’s had violated a provision of its liquor license requiring that it take in more revenue from food than from beer or wine.

“I can’t force people to eat,” Hamilton lamented. She has a choice of a $708 fine or 15-day license suspension, neither of which she says she can afford.

In exchange for getting out of the provision about selling more food than alcohol, Hamilton was willing to relinquish the right to sell wine.

But since a beer-only place can admit patrons under age 21, ABC officials, at the suggestion of Oceanside police, are requiring Jughead’s to take steps to keep from attracting too many minors.

Hamilton had to agree to remove one of her three pool tables and both of her video games. A limit was put on the use of the karaoke machine. A bid for a permit to have live music was turned down.

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Although Jughead’s goes back only a decade, men in uniform, or men who once were in uniform, have been drinking and seeking convivial comradeship at 311 N. Tremont for decades.

Before the place was Jughead’s, it was a Veterans of Foreign Wars post. And before that, the building was a bar called Jarhead’s, a name derived for the slang term for Marines that is a fighting word if used by a non-Marine.

The building, with its tall ceiling, red-brick walls, large skylight and pane windows, was built in the 1930s as a garage for gas and electric company vehicles. As such, it has an openness and airiness not normally found in drinking establishments.

Hamilton picked the name Jughead to honor a pit bull that had won the ugliest dog contest run by a local radio station. The owner of the dog was sorely offended and sued for damages, but Hamilton fought and won.

She’s normally a fighter, but she thinks Jughead’s may last only another few months, maybe weeks. And what will happen to the Marines if Jughead’s closes?

“I don’t know,” Hamilton said. “I worry about ‘em.”