I was in Asmara about two weeks. When returning from the Oasis club one day I happened to pass another GI as he was going to the club. We got say twenty or so feet past each other and I stopped to turn around. "I swear I know that guy" I said to myself. When I turned around he was doing the same thing. He says, "Johnny?" I said, "Gary?" I was completely floored to find someone from "Home" in this place. Gary Field (Call signs Boston and Garu) is from the town next to my home town here in Plaistow, New Hampshire. My days in Asmara just got a lot better. Of course I made an abrupt turn around to join him at the club. That is when I met the best and craziest people in the entire world. This was my induction into a club of the elite. I was introduced to Fat Herb, Mark Shay, (Bob?) Zimmers, Red Hot, Stevie Wonder, Cactus Mike Doran, Zazz, Wilk, Charlie Casdorph, and many others (I just missed Grossmack). I learned more in the next few weeks than I have ever learned before. I learned the meaning of REAL FRIENDS, I.W. Harper, and the meaning behind hanging with the BEST. Over the course of 18 months we drank the mountain dry of Harper twice. The last time we killed Massawa too. Early Times is hard to change over to after drinking Harper.

Fat Herb was confused as to what my call sign should be. Gary Field was Boston. What could I be? After many Harper's he decided, with Red Hot's approval, I will be known as Boston 2. Fat Herb gave me my own cut rubber band. Those who know Asmara know the value of a good rubber band. I can still kill flies with a rubber band today. We went downtown to a restaurant one night, one that was not on the approved list, and got the owners bullshit. We were killing flies in the restaurant. Picking them off the overhead lights. The other patrons didn't like it for some reason. I think Tom Yohe (Navy) was with me that night. I came home with Tom. I haven't had any contact with him since.

So now I have a call sign. That was important to this group of guys. If you had no call sign you had nothing.

Do any of you remember how Red Hot would say SHIT. Drunk as skunks one night, he took hours teaching me the proper way to say SHIT (she-e-e-e-e-it). Recalling these stories makes me sad. I remember the days these guys left Asmara. One at a time until I was the old guy. Everyone else there was a new guy. When Garu (Boston) left, my world crashed. My only link to home was gone. It was a very sad day. Tears in my eyes even now as I reminisce. We see each other now and then. He lives in Florida now.

(I miss you guys a lot. I don't think I ever got closer to such a great bunch of guys in my life. We survived Asmara together.)

After becoming part of this group my days at Asmara got much better. Is better the correct word? Insane could be a more descriptive term. I followed Garu to the club that day, (the day we ran into each other). After the introductions and lots of booze he took me to downtown to The Green Doors, got laid, returned to the Oasis Club. From then on life became a piece of cake. I had Brothers, real Brothers. People you could count on. People that were there with you whether they wanted to be there or not. Garu took good care of his younger friend from home (me). We spent the next six months together. Mostly at the Oasis Club, and I survived because of all of you. Thanks guys.

I think Mark Shay left first. After he went home it seemed like there was another one leaving every week or so. Very depressing. Being good alcoholics we drank our "BLUES" away. Or thought we did. Stevie Wonder was due to go home. He dreaded that terribly. He talked with the Big shots at Kagnew about his next duty. He asked them not to assign him to sea-duty. Of course he was assigned sea-duty. He and I sat at the Oasis Club one morning shortly before he shipped-out. He told me (Boston 2 he called me), what his plans were. He was just going to take off after he got home. I remember him trying to eat scrambled eggs that morning. The bar wasn't open yet. It was still too early. Stevie had the "shakes" so bad the eggs were flying everywhere. Until he had a few shots of Harper he shook bad. He went home and we never heard from him again. I hope he is OK. I can still hear his voice. The kind of voice that is real deep and travels far.

After you guys left it was my turn to help the "new guys". I will admit it was a challenge. I tried to teach the "new guys" to survive. I think the correct philosophy was, "If you stay drunk, fuck all the whores in Asmara, create havoc where ever you are, stay drunk, fuck all the whores again, get drunk again, stay clean for your last month (and don't bring anything home), get drunk and leave drunk. Go home. Hopefully with some sanity left in you. But we all know that's not going to happen.

Life in Asmara had an incredible influence on all of us. Many things we did or were part of will never leave us. Some experiences will always haunt us. Remember all the GOOD times. There were too many to count.