The story you told about your Massawa trips doesn't look like a misadventure to me, rather on the contrary. Especially I liked the part about the Brits. Something of the kind my friend and myself did to a newcomer to Asmara. We heard that a fresher came to Kagnew and were told the guy was from Kiev, the city my friend and I both came from.

My friend Victor and I had already emptied our pockets and were about to go back to our units when the news about the new guy hit us. We decided it was our chance to have a dinner in a restaurant and hop into a half-dozen of bars. The guy's name was Vanya, diminutive for Ivan. We said we were going to show him Asmara and whatever was there worth seeing. He said OK and it proved to be his bad luck in terms of money. We didn't let him off the hook until he was dry. He didn't mind, though, at least for the time being.

A penniless serviceman was not going to die of hunger or thirst. We had a cheap Canteen and a bar at Kagnew where they served drinks for which one could pay later. A friend of mine who didn't feel like going to the field landed a job as a barkeeper for some time. But his career in this sphere soon became a nightmare. The bottles were kept in a huge fridge. When the bar was out of business it used to be chained and locked. First, my friend has lost the key, and we were forced to deploy some terrible tools to open the source of divine liquids. The final move, which cost him his position, was the loss of the book, which listed the names of the debtors. After that he was sent to an army unit somewhere deep in the ass of the world. Nevertheless, he was remembered as the best among the barkeepers. One could wake him up at, say, 2 a.m. and demand a drink. He never refused to serve one.

To my regret, I've never gone to Massawa. As far as Axum is concerned, I spent several months there. Our division was stationed there December, '82 through February, '83. Division HQ located in unfinished Wanza Hotel, which was initially meant for tourists visiting this historic town, but the war prevented the completion of works. There was a very nice place in the town, named Axum Hotel, with a very good restaurant and bar and well trained staff. They served very good food both local and Italian style and a variety of exotic drinks like a number of brands of authentic Scotch, French Cognacs, etc.

The hotel was on top of a hill above the cathedrals. It happened to be a season of intensified religious activities and the clergy hold services overnight. Drums beat and horns' roar never ceased until midnight and they resumed about 5 a.m. I got acquainted with a priest a he'd shown me around and told stories about the place. He even helped me to buy some oranges grown in a church orchard. They didn't taste very much different from the regular ones. What made the difference was the feeling that those oranges came from such a holy place, although I must admit I'm indifferent towards religion.

I do regret till this day I didn't dare to approach a German gentleman, the archeologist, who, as I was told, had been doing excavations in Axum since late 1930's.

Regards,

Sergei