Journal
From a few hundred miles south of the North Pole, to a few hundred miles north of the Equator, We've had a winter to remember, in care of the United States?
Armed Forces Entertainment/USO. We started with shows at Thule Air Force Base in northwest Greenland where we celebrated the start of 2006. After a couple weeks home we commenced our tour of US and Joint Military bases in Central America. Since this next trip requires our own complete sound system and travel through several airports and countries we brought a fifth band member: soundman extraordinaire and Kansas City Blues gadfly, Michael Seibert. At 5:00 AM on Monday morning, January 23 we gathered our equipment and headed to the departure point, Kansas City International Airport.
As a result of our experience at Thule Air Force Base this decidedly unmilitary group of musicians was becoming acclimated to the unique rhythms of military life. There is a stark distinction between ones off hours and when a soldier or someone who works with the Armed Forces is on duty. Going to work, even in the safest conditions, brings life and death seriousness to ones purpose. When someone in this environment is off duty, they have the importance of their chosen careers always in the back of their minds. They are never totally off duty, but they know someone qualified is watching their post and their back.
Our luggage and equipment numbered 23 to 26 pieces depending on what we carried on the planes. This included our personal clothing, PA system, drums, guitars, amplifiers.. We had to limit the weight of any one piece to less than 100 pounds. Some of our boxes came close. The first night of the Honduran tour was spent in Miami. I used the evening to hit Miami's South Beach. In the morning we boarded TACA Airlines for Honduras.
Honduras
During the trip to Greenland we were never really out of America: we flew straight from Baltimore to Thule's Air Force Base run by the United States and stayed there. The trip to Honduras took us out of America!
Flying over Honduras the land looked lush and green; the palm trees promised tropical warmth. We were anxious to get out, meet our contact person Robin Gonzalez and get started. The boys in Random Tuesday stood in line for entry into the country with most of the plane's passengers that got off at the first of two Honduran stops. With our passports ready, we heard our names in Spanish (this is a Latin country after all). The Lost Five endured the long wait for luggage and equipment until finally, after the other passengers were gone, our gear appeared on a truck and was tossed into the baggage room. Where was our contact; where do we go; where did everyone else go?
A friendly lady from TACA Airlines, an angel of mercy who spoke much better English than we spoke Spanish, was our heroine. It wasn't easy because we got off the plane at the wrong stop! As that great American icon of common sense and savoir fare, Homer Simpson would say, Doh!!! Four hours later we boarded a propeller plane to the correct destination, the Honduran capital city of Tegucigalpa. During this unexpected delay Robin worked with the military liaison between Soto Cano and the Embassy to meet us at the Tegucigalpa airport, help us get band equipment, luggage, and ourselves to the White House. (She had gone back to Soto Cano to work out how to get us to Tegucigalpa!) The White House is a nicely decorated home, guarded with cameras and barbed wire, in a central, upper class, Tegucigalpa neighborhood. American diplomats, military officials, and other travelers stay here in safety while waiting to continue their trips in and out of Honduras.
Security is essential since the city's streets are not safe. Warnings include reminders not to wear anything shiny, don't flash any money, do not take out cell phones, and do not accept any offers from innocent looking females. A musician's reputation pre-cedes him.
In the morning we met Robin Gonzalez, our contact, guide, boss, great aunt, streetwise advisor to all things Honduran. She is a life long military veteran now civilian employee from the Carolinas, a theatrical expert, former stage manager and set designer; we are the latest in a long line of entertainers she's ushered through a military base, but the first to disembark from an airplane at the wrong stop. Robin's main responsibilities include the recreational services on the base. This means everything that makes life in remote locations bearable including but not limited to the library, recreation and gym, laundry services, and the visiting entertainment.
Robin has been serving Joint Task Force-Bravo (JTF-B) at Soto Cano Air Base for many years over several deployments and has no plans to leave. Besides the occasional hurricane, the weather's great and she knows the country well. Robin and her husband live off base and go back to the States just enough to satisfy their theatrical needs. The road from Tegucigalpa to the base is a curvy two lane road navigated by drivers who can turn it miraculously into four lanes while dodging pedestrians, kids, beggars, live stock, broke down cars, discarded tires, buses, and trucks. The road winds over two mountain ranges, past slums and political ads painted on the roadside rocks. After ninety minutes of gawking at the sites we arrived at Soto Cano and Joint Task Force - Bravo.
Our vans arrived at the base shortly after noon: the airplane snafu cost us some relaxation time but we could relax back home! The Honduran Air Force owns the base. The US provides support for the Honduran military, helps with drug enforcement in Central America, and works hand in hand with the military and diplomatic needs in this region of the world. The young Honduran soldiers standing guard with long automatic rifles on their soldiers work in concert with their American counterparts. The base is divided between the Honduran and the American sides. This division remains although Honduras is a close ally of the United States. The Honduran soldiers seem more concerned about their own citizenry then any other outside threat. We had an opportunity to go into the local town on our second afternoon. It was a third world town out of Hollywood's central casting: tiny crowded, potholed streets, colorful shops, children begging for scraps, cars that have never seen a safety inspection or carwash, girls in clothing too tight, boys in clothing too loose, buses, trucks, soldier/police with rifles and bullet proof vests, taxis everywhere and a beautiful 15th century Spanish cathedral in the center square. We kept all jewelry and shiny things at home.
Living quarters on base are called Hooches, dorms with several private rooms but no bathroom facilities.
We would have to walk (or run) to the bathroom and shower. The base was originally thought to be temporary and the living quarters were built with that in mind. It seems the U.S. presence will remain for sometime, another example of the need to plan for changing plans. Soto Cano boasts a complete gym, several military and Honduran run dining facilities, the PX/BX store, native Honduran gift stores, a breathtaking 360° panoramic view, and the Oasis club, our performing venue during our stay at Soto Cano.
After a tour of the base we set up for our first show that night. After three days of travel Random Tuesday got to do what we hope we do best: entertain, a club full of boisterous off duty soldiers thankful for a break in the routine with a unique variety of Funk, Blues, Classic Rock, and Soul jams combined with Matthew D's infectious personality and blazing guitar.
As usual, we got into a small amount of trouble playing longer then we should have, but we came to play. Far and away the best part of these trips is the chance to meet the people that chose a career defending our country and many seem more then willing to share their lives with us. After the show they shared their after hour clubs and late night recreation into the wee hours of the morning.
After a nap Matt and Clay met Air Force PR officer Sgt. Joel Langston who invited us to witness a dozen soldiers jump from Black Hawk helicopters. The previous evening he was the band's primary heckler, tormenting this Kansas City band with his St. Louis Cardinal Baseball cap. This would be the start of a very full day that could have been an Army recruitment commercial. We arrived at the dining hall at 6:00 AM and rode a golf cart to the jump preparation site.
The soldiers were in a nervously joking mood as they prepared for the jump. Some are pros triple checking the parachute packs, others are jumping to fulfill certification requirements, and others were on their first jump. The morning's dual assignment was to train the jumpers on jumping from a helicopter and train the pilots on working with jumpers. We waited about an hour until the Black Hawk arrived. Among those we met was a jump supervisor who is probably the oldest active duty officer on the base, a National Guard Reserve from Ohio on a one-year deployment who owns a gymnastic facility in his civilian life and was looking forward to his 60th birthday. The morning was travel brochure clear with a steady breeze. The breeze kept the humidity away but was also too strong for the jump to proceed. The helicopter flew away without passengers. All chuted up and nowhere to go, they'll try again tomorrow. The members of our military are always looking to serve. An Army major from Puerto Rico assigned to diplomatic/cultural liaison duty that bonded with Matt over guitar and amplifier discussions, and another jump supervisor wanted their civilian guests to experience something special. They thought a ride on a Chinook helicopter might provide a suitable substitute. This plan was derailed when the pilot remembered that civilian rides on these amazing machines had to be OK'd by a General. Our hosts were disappointed that nothing's worked as planned; Matt and I were thrilled to see what we got to see, meet who we got to meet and all before 10:00 AM. Back home we'd be just waking up. Next stop, the base radio station, the mighty Lizard, 106.7, where Matt's new CD would get its world radio debut!
Robin Gonzalez arranged for the band to play in the dining hall during lunch, advertisement for our show that evening. We'll play any chance we get. After a little back porch, lunchtime Blues Matt and Clay returned to the helicopter pad. We may not be able to fly but we could tour the giant, double propeller Chinook helicopter. The pilot was a twenty five year old Army officer absolutely tickled that his job was piloting this 15 million dollar machine. We were tickled to get our pictures in the pilot's chair.
His parents should be proud of this college graduate who could pick any career and chose this one. Leaving the helicopter area we met the JTF-B Commander just arriving from leave. With a large smile he requested some country music for the night's show. The rest of the band gathered for our excursion into town when five jet fighters screamed past us in formation. We shared a group fantasy about being on board. After returning from our taste of local Honduran culture in town we made good on an offer from some in the previous evening's audience; the band took a tour of the base fire station. The tour was given by four trained firefighters from different parts of the country, three men, one woman with a black eye, none over 23 years old. Drummer Chris and Matt tried on the fireproof suits; Eugene did CPR on the training dummy; we rode around the airport in the giant fire trucks and fired the giant hoses. Our path took us past the fighter jets that flew earlier (gifts to the Honduran Air Force from the USA, provided they aren't sold), the Black Hawks, other odd flying machines, and past the Prince of Spain's private airplane. He was here for the inauguration of the Honduran president the next day. We thought he might come by our show that night. We are optimists.
That evening's show was attended by many met the past days, newcomers, the JTF-B commander, the top Air Force Colonel; and the Chief Master Sergeant, an impressive woman with five degrees who is one of the highest ranking enlisted officers in the US military.
No Prince of Spain. The Commander got his country songs and presented Random Tuesday with an award commemorating our stay at Joint Task Force-Bravo. The Air Force Colonel and Chief Master Sergeant ended the show joining the band on a rousing version of Mustang Sally that brought the crowd to their feet. Later they presented the boys in the band with coins appropriate to their branch and status in the military. (Military coins and their traditions are a special honor introduced to us in Thule.)
After the show we packed our equipment quickly, this night was not over. Many of the companies on the base had their own nightclub. Last night we went to the Lizard Lounge, supported by the enlisted army air personnel. Tonight our first stop was Club Med, hosted by the Medics. Profits from these social clubs go towards local children's charities or other worthy causes. Our self appointed guide, an air traffic controller proficient in several languages and Soto Cano resident for over three years, brought us to The Church, a disco near the border between the Honduran and U.S. camps. The entrance was even guarded by an armed Honduran soldier. Part of our conversation on these trips includes an inquiry about what people do, what's their job. This fellow piloted one of the jets we saw earlier that day. While I was impressed he said his goal in life was to fly a faster, newer jet, a toy model of which he kept in his pocket. We traded E-mails so I could send pictures I took of his formation. Mountains, palm trees, jets, and fire trucks are nice but it is meeting the people that operate this amazing equipment, the soldiers, pilots, technicians from our services and our allies that are making this tour remarkable.
After another nap Robin Gonzalez, a woman of great wisdom woke us at 5:00 AM to make sure we were up and ready to go to the Tegucigalpa airport and to check that we had all our papers in order including a $32.00 tax to leave Honduras. We bid farewell to our parachute friends as they headed to retry their jump, loaded our equipment, and drove through the Honduran hills back to the airport. Robin then made sure we knew when to get off the plane, Miami Beach, Florida.
We were on our own from there. Our possessions were cleared through customs then rechecked to our next location, Jacksonville Florida by way of Atlanta. By 10:00 P.M. we made it to our hotel, another nap and a 7:00 A.M. ride to the Navel Base in Jacksonville where we boarded a contracted commercial airliner to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.
Guantanamo Bay Cuba
Upon landing, the seriousness on the faces of the guards, the dogs that sniffed everyone's luggage, the lines formed to get ID cards, indicated this was going to be a different place. Guantanamo Bay Cuba, Gitmo is small city and nobody is there by accident. There are families on the base and there were families on the ID line. Soldiers were cleaning a spill in the next room, mildly cussing. A mother in line yelled, There are children in here please watch your language. Then something amazing happened: the cleaning crew stopped cleaning, put down their mops and humbly apologized for their rudeness, promising never to let that happen again. Just outside the gate we met Nancy Edwardswalker our guide and confidante during the stay. Her motto is not a problem and that was her answer to any request, any need we had.
She is a multi-year veteran of the MWR (morale, welfare and recreation) team on Gitmo under the supervision of Craig Basel, and we are her first band. Her usual assignment is managing the Bowling Alley on base as she studies for a Special Education degree. This woman knew almost everyone on the base, greeting each with a smile, a good word and a wave. She raised morale by her presence alone. A Jamaican crew who were valued assistants during our entire stay loaded our bags and gear onto a truck and Nancy brought us to the ferry that would bring us across the bay to the main part of the base. Gitmo covers about 45 square miles, about 26 is used.
The base has a McDonalds and a Subway, do I have to say anymore? The BX/PX would be called Wal-Mart on the mainland. We drove past the gym; a few retired cannons; some of the largest anchors I've seen; Iguana crossing signs; and the base welcome sign with the commander's name, Pearl of the Antilles quotation, time and temperature, 85° at 2:30 PM. Nancy checked us into our hotel rooms, actually suites with kitchen, living area and bedroom, easily the finest accommodations on the tour with a glorious view of the deep blue-green ocean and marina with kids playing on an inflated iceberg in the water. Next stop is the Goat Locker, sight of our first show in Cuba.
It is the end of January and we are preparing to play on an outdoor deck like it was July in Missouri. Two giant Iguanas, lizards that live wild in their native habitat at Gitmo, greeted the group in the parking lot. The Goat Locker is a club for the highest ranked members of the community: Chiefs, Colonels, Majors, and the supervising civilian contractors that work with them. These people have spent their life on exotic deployments and dangerous duty. The men, women and their spouses earned the right to tell you what they think, tell you what they want, and party hard.
If they liked the band we could leave the way we entered, through the front door, drinks on the house. If not it was over the side into the lagoon for us. A Chief Petty Officer and his bride celebrated their first month of matrimony with a large cake cut not with a knife but with a large gold Saber. We think they liked the show; we left through the front door, slightly inebriated, the chiefs were generous.
Nancy and a friend took us to a final club for a late night drink and karaoke. I must write about the good and the ugly and Matt's Elvis was interesting, only to be upstaged by soundman Booger Mike's wonderful Karaoke crooning. Nancy's friend has an assignment concerning the security of the base and our country.
If she told us any more specific information she would have to shoot us. Guantanamo Bay Cuba is the one base we went to that everyone back home knew something about. Not only is it located in Fidel Castro's backyard, close to his native town, and in communist Cuba; this is also a front line location in our current war against terror. Back home, Gitmo is synonymous with controversy, and secrecy, two things sure to raise an American citizen's antenna. As Americans it is our right and has become our nature to speculate, debate, and propose policy and methods without the pressure of accountability. The people at Gitmo and those on the front lines of this endeavor do not have that luxury. Everyone is aware of his or her lines of accountability. Regardless of personal opinions over policy, each person we met freely chose this career path, are professionals and believe in the freedoms they are fighting for even if those freedoms mean taking on this assignment with one or both hands tied behind their back. This is a tight wire walk that Nancy's friend and many we met take everyday.
There is an underlying tension of being close to the war zone that was unique to our stay at Guantanamo Bay. We saw the walls of that war zone the next day.
Before war, there is breakfast. A fantastic buffet spread served to the higher ranks and senior civilians. The buffet overlooked another glorious vista. Towards the end of our meal we were introduced to the school principle. Gitmo is a small city with living communities that could include a soldier's entire family. There is an elementary and high school on the base. We met the school's music teacher the night before. After he played trumpet with the band we asked if he would like us to come to the school to do an educational performance for the kids Monday.
Now we could enroll the principle in the concept and he agreed. We stopped at the mall, after which we went to the hotel for our swim wear; it was time to jump in the Ocean. Nancy took us down to Glass Beach named so because the sand and rocks have been pounded so long by they waves they turned to smooth glass. Sometimes discarded debris from ships captured off the coast washes up on the shore. Some of this debris can include drugs tossed overboard before the Coast Guard can confiscate it. We donned our snorkels and fins and dove into the warm gulf waters.
This was not a pretty sight. Chris has rarely been in water deeper than a bathtub. Matt has never seen an ocean. Swimming ten feet off shore was a major accomplishment and a bit embarrassing when a group of scuba divers appeared from the depths of the ocean like the seals they turned out to be, on a training mission. There's a lot of training going on at all the places we went. The Random Tuesday Snorkel Team saw a few guppies, collected some rocks and seashells, and returned to the hotel very happy campers. For Nancy this was not a problem! That afternoon we sampled the fitness facilities, Matt recaptured our swing at the batting cage, Chris joined a pick up basketball game, and Eugene lifted weights and sampled the aqua-massage. After a brief respite it would be time for us to sample the war.
Some may have known of Guantanamo Bay Cuba before we invaded Afghanistan in response to the 9/11/01 attacks. Today Gitmo is one of the most talked about military outposts we have, due mainly to the arrival of their special guests, the detainees, prisoners from the war on terror. The war is in the mind of every military person we've met from Greenland to Missouri to Central America. The armed forces personnel in the Middle East are on the front lines.
For the residents of Gitmo the war is in their backyards, just a few miles from where many have children and wives, only 90 miles across the ocean from the United States mainland. Our second show was at Club Survivor, about a half mile from the prison.
The road to this site went through security checks and roadblocks. We drove directly outside the prison wall that was actually a fence consisting of thick barbed wire and a canvas cloth preventing any view inside.
On the outside of the wall were many signs specifically prohibiting any photography and every gate manned by multiple armed guards. Bright lights glared illuminating regularly spaced guard towers like a large UFO that just landed upside down. We were told a state of the art prison is near completion. Club Survivor is in the sandy middle of the barracks, dining hall, and training facilities for the soldiers with hands on responsibility for the security of the detainees, the base, and our country.
A couple of soldiers drove up in an open top jeep with mounted machine gun at the ready. There were several of these combat vehicles scattered throughout the area. We took a break from setting up for the show to take pictures around the jeep and talk to the soldiers. A young Army officer from Kentucky and another from California talked about their jobs on the base, the pressure of working daily under the microscope of superior supervision, public scrutiny and preconceptions, their hopes and goals for the future. They also talked of guarding prisoners who will take any opportunity to escape and kill the Americans. Everyone talked in very general terms due to the sensitive nature of the assignment. Most seem proud of the professionalism and humanity they show the prisoners: sensitivity to religious customs; exercise opportunity; reading and learning opportunity; lack of actual labor since any work done including servicing the latrines and infrastructure repairs are done by the soldiers. The guards found subtle ways to remind their guests that they were in American custody, that the green canvas walls would be the extent of their world for a very long time.
Policy decisions belonged to others; these folks had a job to do and did it to the best of their abilities, to their highest standards. They scorned the situations at Abu Ghraib that put a negative light on their duty and makes this job that much more difficult. The crowd was small but we played especially hard because these men and women are active participants in the current World and American War.
It is 7:30 AM and time for school. The children start most weeks with an assembly in the school's outside amphitheater. Today a Rock and Roll band was setting up on stage for the assembly. The kids were as excited as we were. After a complete Pledge of Allegiance and prerecorded base wide National Anthem we gave the kids a good dose of the Blues. The music was wrapped around short discussions about each of our instruments and a brief history of American Popular music. This was easily the most boisterous, enthusiatic crowd we've had since New Year's Eve in Greenland. I am thinking the autograph session at the end of the show was a delay tactic to fend off the start of classroom work. After all, these are strategic thinking, military kids. We did not mind and neither did the teachers. After the performance, since we were awake Not a problem Nancy (with some gentle arm twisting by Craig Basel) fulfilled a request arranging a pontoon ride around the Bay and river that surrounds the base. The water was different shades of blue and green depending on depth and currents, the shore lined with trees, brush and tall grass. Occasional sea birds flew above; this was peace in a war zone. Two interesting signs: one warned of Manatee Crossings; another halted our progress at a bridge that marked a border between U.S. and Cuban territory. The journey's path avoided a permanent minefield and a current live ordinance training session. In the distance we could see our tall guard towers looking at the Cuban guard towers, a reminder that the Cold War with Cuba continues today. Our Jamaican skipper searched in vein for dolphins or stingrays, before returning us to the Marina. The afternoon ended with another music performance at the High School. This was more of a classroom performance as members of the school band joined us with clarinets, tambourines, big drums, snare drums, maracas, and the teacher's Jazzy Trumpet. This ended when their school day ended, just in time for us to prepare for our final Gitmo performance at The Windjammer Club, open to all on the base.
Three shows in three nights at venues across the base would be so much more difficult without our Jamaican assistants who helped load and unload our boxes on their trucks, supplement our equipment with gear they had in storage, made minor electrical repairs and did all this with joy, enthusiasm and pleasure. Meeting citizens from our allied countries like Denmark, Honduras, and Jamaica who work with our military has been another revealing aspect of our initial Armed Forces Entertainment experience. The Windjammer club is open to anyone on the base and had a reputation as a place where the crowd can and does let his or her inhibitions run wild. Nancy hadtrepidations about what she may see. Although this Monday evening crowd was small, by the end of the night the girls were on the stage rushing for Matt, was on the dance floor, and a party was under way. We played past closing time again but I don't think anybody cared.
After another nap we woke up to leave. Nancy and our assistants loaded the last bit of luggage on the truck and we headed to the ferry for a final boat ride across the bay to the airport. At the ferry landing there is a plaque commemorating the spot Christopher Columbus set foot on the Island in 1492. Finding no gold and few fish he stayed for only a day. The United States has owned Gitmo since the early 1900's.
There's also a sign telling us again not to feed the iguanas. With our bags checked we bid Nancy a melancholy fair well and waited another three hours because the only plane out of Gitmo was very, very late. Finally on board the contracted commercial airliner used for the flight we were on our way back to Jacksonville Naval Air Station and the American mainland.
Jacksonville, Florida USA
During our stay in Cuba we received bad news. Our next planned performance in the Bahamas was cancelled. This meant we would stay in Jacksonville Florida until our departure for Puerto Rico Friday Morning. The band finally arrived at our hotel in Jacksonville about 11:00 PM, dragged our luggage and equipment to our second floor rooms and had a late night snack. We looked to make the most of our time in Jacksonville without transportation and hoping to spend as little money as possible. After all, we are Blues musicians. The first day we walked around the hotel neighborhood, picked up some personal items, and ended the day at the late night Cosmic Bowling alley.
Thursday we hopped on a transit bus and toured downtown Jacksonville, the Landing, Maritime and Historical Museums, met the locals, got interviewed by a bored city beat reporter from the local newspaper, and returned for a nice dinner and sleep. Early Friday morning two shuttle taxis with drivers who have become confidantes during our two stays in Jacksonville brought us to the airport for our flight via Atlanta, to San Juan Puerto Rico.
Puerto Rico
It was no fault of Fort Buchanan or Puerto Rico; this part of the tour was a bit anti-climactic. After our unique experiences in Honduras and Cuba, Puerto Rico had tough acts to follow. We arrived Friday night and checked into our base hotel just in time to get some food. Fort Buchanan is the first base we've been to that was in the middle of a modern vibrant city, San Juan, but there was no way for us to get off the base. We discovered that few people stayed on the base for the weekend. After wandering the facilities a bit Matt and Chris found some Medics from Oklahoma celebrating their last night in Puerto Rico. They couldn?t stay for our show the next night so we gave them a Matthew D. CD and told them to call us about playing their upcoming wedding. Together we killed a bottle of Honduran rum, and philosophized into the early morning.
During the day, we wandered the base. They had a huge supermarket on the site and Saturday morning, whoever was still on location, was here. Every register was open and still the check out line stretched halfway around the back of the entire building. We strolled past a teen center, picnic tables, swimming pool, fitness center, golf course, fire station, welcome center, and base headquarters. Fort Buchanan is the main headquarters for the Army Reserves and provides support for all military operations in Central America and the Caribbean. One of the most solemn and important aspects of the base is the coroner autopsy department. Understandably difficult at anytime, performing this job for a military at war adds a special poignancy to the assignment.
We played at the Community Club Saturday Night where we met our contact person, Carmen Soto. She lamented the timing of our visit. Since the fort is in the middle of a modern city, most weekend revelers go into town. She hoped we could return for a longer stay in the middle of a week because Puerto Rico offered wonderful beaches, exciting nightspots, and several remote locations that deserved the attention and reward Random Tuesday's brand of live entertainment would provide. We played for a small, mostly native Puerto Rican audience under a mirror ball and disco lights. Once again we played a bit past our scheduled ending time; the band came to Fort Buchanan to play. When we were done the DJ took over, we packed our 26 bags and prepared to return home in time to see the Super Bowl.
We hop scotched around Florida and Central America dragging over 1,200 pounds of luggage and equipment in over thirty bags and boxes, through eighteen airports and seven homes, dorms or hotels in fourteen days; had nine performances, on stages, patios, night clubs, in war zones, schools and dining halls; appeared on the radio, and interviewed for newspapers; bowled, swam, played sports, dove, drove, rode, floated, walked, ran, drank, danced, were lost, were found, ate, slept, shopped, and took as many photos as we were allowed.
It is an honor to watch our fellow citizens go about the day-to-day work of keeping America safe and promoting what we take for granted, like air to birds and water to fish, the American ideals of freedom and liberty for all. As we hugged our dearly missed wives, children and significant others we wondered when and where we would have our next opportunity to witness and contribute to the United States Armed Forces and the civilians and allies that work hand in hand on making this a planet where all can live in peace.
Written by
Clayton Goldstein - February, 2006
GREENLAND
From the 28th of December 2005 until the 6th of January 2006 I joined Matthew D and Random Tuesday on an experience I will remember a lifetime; on the Top of the world, The Coolest Place on Earth, Thule Air Force Base in Northwest Greenland. The base is a few hundred miles south of the North Pole, a location so far north the Northern Lights are the Southern Lights and seldom seen. Temperatures averaged 25 degrees below 0 with 50 below 0 wind chill indexes. Night darkness lasts 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in the winter. We had good weather. Storms can be so severe that one cannot see six feet in front of them. We were told there's sunlight 24 hours a day, seven days a week in the summer as the sun circles overhead. The soldiers and civilians that live here track and command our satellites, watch for missiles and space debris that may threaten North America and Europe, and party like no tomorrow...and there is a tomorrow because they are there.
MD and RT was hired by Armed Forces Entertainment after band leader Matt Ward tirelessly submitted promotional materials, CD's, requests and letters to the Commanders in charge. The band includes Eugene Smiley on Bass, Chris Lee on Drums, and Matt Ward on Guitar. Myself, on Harmonica. Everyone adds vocals. A representative from Armed Forces Entertainment, George DeGrella joined us and quickly became the fifth member of the band. The group prides itself on being able to entertain utilizing most styles of popular music with a strong grounding in Blues, Funk, and Rock and Roll.
To a man, we are thrilled, honored for this opportunity. The freedom we enjoy at home is due in large part to the efforts and sacrifice of the people in the military and those civilians from the USA and our allies that work hand in hand with the military all over the world. The blending of military and civilian expertise is wonderfully demonstrated at Thule Air Force Base.
After several domestic air connections and one piece of lost baggage, we arrived in Greenland on the morning of Thursday, December 29. About 9:00AM and totally black skies. At the bottom of the Airplane steps was a reception team of four, warmly clothed soldiers with large, knowing smiles welcoming us to Greenland. They knew something we did not know: life in Thule. Inside the warm air facilities Mike Marotta, Director of Services on the base, took over.
A Proud native of Brooklyn, NY, sporting his Brooklyn winter jacket and brandishing a Brooklyn accent with wreck less abandon, Mr. Marotta has been associated with the Military in one form or another since Vietnam. He is a civilian now and the proud owner of over 3500 Blues CD's. We were in good hands. Our military guide/assistant/driver/confidant was Master Sergeant Jenkins. He arrived at Thule about four months earlier and was still getting acclimated to the place. His military history includes tours in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Qatar. Serg Jenks plans a future floating on an Idaho River as the fish avoid his baited hook.
Marotta and Jenkins took us on a quick tour of the base as we headed for the North Star Inn, our home for the next eight nights. Although we've been traveling about twenty hours, the best way to avoid jet lag was to stay awake, so we did. We went past the Community Center/Library. Here they show Movies several times a week, offer free video games and pin ball, video simulated golf, a giant jig saw puzzle about one third completed, internet access computers, and two pool tables - one set up with light wooden pins in the center. Mike Marotta, with a New Yorker's pool shark coyness, explained Danish Pool, which became our game of choice. We stopped by the BX the base's closest thing to a convenience store. One could buy food, clothes, souvenirs, soft drinks or hard liquor. When in doubt, Miss Norma, another Iraqi veteran who's looking forward to returning to Iraq, would enthusiastically assist.
Next on our initial tour was a walk through the fitness and health center. Free weights, running machines, Nautilus Machines, Squash, Racquetball, health center, boxing bags demonstrated by the ever informative Marotta, and an open court that could host Basketball, Soccer, Volleyball, Bad Mitten and more. In the same building is the Base's Bowling Alley.
Welcome to Club Thule.
We went to the venue where we would play, the aptly named Top of the World Club with our music gear was already delivered. Here we met club manager, jazz-man Mike D Full Monti. Much of the staff at the club have other jobs on the base and want extra work or are Danish Civilians. The club has a bar area, restaurant, and our concert/dance club area being used this day for promotion ceremonies. Last stop on the tour was our Hotel, the North Star. Nice, single rooms, with common living area containing kitchen facilities, lounge with two TV's and common Bathroom with showers and clothes washer and dryer. One o'clock in the afternoon and barely a hint of dusk over the horizon.
Denmark is a very close Ally of the United States, has administrative control over Greenland, and has a very large presence on the base. The interplay between the Danes, the Natives of Greenland, Canadians, our US Military Air and Civilian Force, was instructive. Everyone we met was a credit to his or her native heritage. Each had a job to do and did it. Since the base is a closely-knit community with the weather as a common enemy and companion, troublemakers, bad situations, problems, are quickly dealt with and removed. Sometimes lost on the non-military but never forgotten is that Thule Air Force Base is a primary security installation performing a very important mission. On our plane to Greenland was a girl who said she was Military Police. She looked like a high school senior on her first trip away from home. Sweat shirt and jeans, with the tired drooping hair of a girl completing an all-nighter, she was clutching a large stuffed animal. Later in the week I saw the same girl walking through the Dining Hall. Now she was wearing her Air Force uniform with combat boots, camouflage fatigues, black beret, hair pulled up and pistol securely strapped to her side. Her walk was tall, direct and proud. This was a different person then the one who flew with us. She looked like someone not to be underestimated, someone serious, a soldier, and hungry.
Thule Air Force Base already has a Rock and Roll band, Non Essential Personnel. Anchored by Base Chaplin Christopher Cox, Lt. Col Joseph Snake Dennis, and Jeff Sound Effects Saunders. The band is a loose collection of folks on the base who play music. Desire is more important then skill, and the band rocks!!! The base Commander, Col Buck would be going on leave after our first night. We met him watching NEP this first evening, requesting hard rock songs from Stain and Green Day. Of course Marotta wanted the Blues. NEP singer Mike Renkin only wanted to sing a song, any song, ranging from Blues Traveler's, Runaround to Hey Thule a song written about the base by a previous AFE band, Most important, a good time was had by all. As the trip continued we had opportunity to discuss music and life with ChaplinCox, Lt. Col Dennis, members of the band and people on the base. This is a special place in a part of the world that requires uniquely talented individuals. From enlisted Military Police to Sergeants to the officers and scientists, all are curious about almost everything. Col. Dennis is an amateur Geologist, a rock collector, carpenter, Cosmologist, space expert, flies satellites, plays guitar, sings, climbs, hikes, explores, rides horses, has a wife and children, and took guitar and harmonica lessons from us while we were in Greenland. His next assignment will be the command of a squadron in Europe. Everyone has an honest affection for Thule and everyone knows exactly how much time they have until they can leave. Each military tour of duty at Thule is about twelve months. Civilians had various tour lengths. Some have been here for more than ten years, a few over twenty. There are no families living at the base but spouses are allowed short visits. Sorry kids, no children allowed.
Our first show was Friday Night. We spent the afternoon getting accustomed to the PA we would use.
We were able to bring our own amplifiers but used the house system for vocals. It was very sufficient for the venue, with club employee Josh manning the controls as our soundman and technician extraordinaire. This was a perfect warm-up for New Year's Eve. Earlier that day Lt. Col Dennis met with us for our mission briefing, after all, this is the military. He went over Thule's long history starting with General Eisenhower's use of the location as his primary weather source when planning the D Day invasion during World War Two. During the cold war Thule was designed as a first warning station for any missiles entering North America from Europe, specifically the Soviet Union. Although there is no Soviet Union and no significant threat from Russia, Thule still needs to be on guard observing and reporting every launch over the poles whether satellites, test launches or, heaven forbid, weapons fired at either the U.S. or its European allies.
There are particles of space debris in decaying orbits falling to the earth. Tracking these threats is a major part of Thule's mission. As our presence in space became more significant, Thule became one of several stations around the globe that track and command the satellites in space. Data is sent and received through the Thule radar antennas and transmitted to the land based groups responsible for their operations. Home base for most of these operations is in Colorado Springs, CO. Col Dennis is not the only Satellite Flyer on the base.
It is Saturday and New Year's Eve! The base is treated to their Fourth of July firework show in the winter blackness of today's Greenlandic afternoon since the sun never sets in July's summer. By 11:00 PM Thule time (one hour before Eastern Standard Time) most of the base not on duty was at the Top Of The World Club. Our band features four musicians with four distinct influences: Eugene Smiley's Funk/R and B sensibilities; Chris Lee's Reggae Grooves; Matts Pop and Blues styling, combined with the good looks of a New York Model, the charisma of royalty, and the sheer guitar shredding ability that would make a hardened Army General whimper with tears of cathartic emotional relief; and my irreverent, irrelevant Country-Blues-Rock and Roll mischief. We needed all of that to entertain an audience consisting of people from all over the USA and many parts of the world. The crowd pressed to the front of the stage as acting Commander Lt. Col. Dennis telephoned a DJ from WGN Radio in Chicago for the Midnight countdown. Balloons dropped, noise makers squealed, confetti flew, around this collection of randomly chosen revelers in the northern most New Year's Eve party on our planet Earth. There is a lot of love in Thule Air Force Base, Greenland. When our concert was over the club stayed open for much drinking, dancing, and merriment. Nobody was driving; the base has free taxi/shuttle service 24 hours a day, especially tonight. Parties evolved in different living quarters around the base ranging from the speakeasy styled Tavern to smaller gatherings and private rendezvous. I ended up eating breakfast with the Chief Master Sergeant and an air traffic controller, talking about the base, our homes, our careers, and 2006.
We did two more performances during our stay. There are enough musicians on the base to warrant a Blues Jam so we added one on Monday evening. This brought out NEP, some Karaoke singers who never sang with a live band before, and the base's Blues man, Mike Marotta finally belting out a version of John The Revelator. Tuesday night was our final organized show at the Top Of The World Club, a freewheeling concert where we could dig down into music from our hearts, play requests, and feed off the passion and appreciation we had for those at the base and they had for us being there. During our last days in Thule we were taken on remarkable tours of the Ballistic Tracking Station (BMEWS, a priority one asset), and Satellite Command Units (Det-3, a priority 3 asset).
At these locations and throughout the base, the revelers from New Year's Eve become deadly serious while on duty. They are on the job, protecting the United States of America. When we talk to the soldiers and civilians at the base, they have the authentic feeling that the duty in this Arctic Desert is protecting their wives, children, and families. To prove the seriousness of the job, at the conclusion of one tour they used our band to drill the Military Police officers on duty, partiers we played pool with the days before, on apprehending an intruder. The band was spread eagle on the ground as the intruder was identified as our bandleader Matt who remained handcuffed until the threat was over. While he may have enjoyed the handcuffing a bit more than he should have, the point was made to us and reinforced to the soldiers: an enemy will try to blind the US in the event of a conflict and Thule Air Force Base, and posts like it, are the eyes and ears of our country and a primary target.
On our final night, we played a spirited game of Volleyball at the fitness center where AFE representative and fifth band member George Degrella earned his nickname 10 foot; we ate a final dinner at the Dundas Dinning Hall buffet where the only trees in this part of the world are in a glass display; and enjoyed a final drink at the T.O.W. Club. As we reminisced about the trip in the hotel's community room, Col. Dennis and a friend of ours from Denmark made a surprise appearance. The Colonel, nicknamed brought rocks collected around Greenland as final gifts. Here was an Air Force Colonel from Texas, a Space Expert about to be assigned to a command post in Europe; a young civilian native from Denmark anxious for her first trip to America; four American Musicians from different parts of our country; talking about dreams and philosophy while thrown together in a part of the world less then a million people have ever been during our planet's known history.
It was a distinct honor and privilege to start 2006 with the people at Thule Air Force Base. We were, in every sense, sitting on top of the world.
Clayton Goldstein / 1-15-06 / clay@tostmusic.com /
(417) 894-4434 www.tostmusic.com