The Good, the Bad and the Ugly American
(With my sincerest apologies to Sergio Leone)
My response to chapter 10 of Michela Wrong's treatise about Eritrea: I Didn't Do It For You: How the World Betrayed a Small African Nation
By George "Zazz" Zasadil
Let me preface this by saying that I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. Ms. Wrong's style of writing is crisp and her anecdotes are wholly amusing. She is a Journalist with a sense of humor, seemingly a rare commodity. By reading the book I learned many things that I did not know about the Eritrean people's culture and their history. To date, "I Didn't Do It For You" will be noted as the definitive work about the "Small African Nation" where I spent 18 months of my life.
"The evil that men do lives after them. The good is oft interred with their bones." Wm. Shakespeare: Julius Caesar, Act 3, Scene 2.
Chapter 10 - Blowjobs, Bugging and Beer. The title of this chapter, about Kagnew and the US involvement in Eritrea, refers to our predilection for opposite sex and alcoholic beverages plus the fact that the reason that we were there was to monitor world communications.
Chapter 10's first line, "On May 3, 1967, George Zasadil, a gangly young G.I. of Czech extraction from Chicago, stepped off the plane in Asmara, Ethiopia, after a long trip from Boston via Athens and Cairo" sets the tone of the chapter. The chapter's anti-hero is named right from the beginning. "Zasadil, something of a natural rebel, hadn't bothered reading the army handbook introducing new arrivals to Ethiopia. Bound for Africa, he'd formed a clear mental image of the lush tropicana that awaited him. Gazing around him now, "Zazz" - as his army friends would in future know him - brushed away the flies and breathed in the acrid aroma of Asmara: a heady mix of horse manure, eucalyptus trees, burning charcoal stoves and diesel fumes. He took in the dry, bleak plateau and stark red earth. 'This was desolation'".
For me, it was pure culture shock, not that I had expected to be stationed in the "Garden of Eden", but I had formed a very different mental image of Africa, primarily due to what I had seen in the cinema and in National Geographic magazines. I vividly remember the first things that I saw after leaving the Asmara airport on the mini bus taking us to Kagnew. Men in tattered clothing carrying large Walking Sticks behind their necks with their arms strung over them, old women carrying bundles of sticks and tree branches on their backs and small shacks that looked as though they could fall down any minute. A mile or so later we entered civilization, the City of Asmara. The Army handbook that I never bothered to read was given to me several weeks after I arrived at Kagnew.
The author then goes on to explain the prevailing attitude of the Army Security Agency (ASA) personnel stationed at Kagnew Station (first time enlistees in particular), and the fact that most of us signed up for the four year enlistment with the ASA to avoid going to Viet Nam. "Throughout their special training back in the US, they'd been told they were the "top 10 per cent" valued for their superior intelligence, problem solving capacities and communications skills. Well, the Army could go hang, if it expected neat beds, sharp haircuts and sharper salutes in Kagnew. If they were so special, then army rules need barely apply. "Kagnew," chuckles Zazz, in his gravelly, lived in voice, 'resembled a cross between Animal House and MASH'".
Ms. Wrong then attempts to explain the mission of the ASA troops that were stationed at Kagnew, with a particular interest in the activities at the Stonehouse facility. A lot of it is conjecture based on US Government archived information and personal interviews with still cautious Kagnew Station Vets. "Much of Kagnew's work required the kind of abstract, problem-solving abilities possessed by the gifted chess player or obsessive crossword filler. But language skills, whether innate or acquired during the intensive courses at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, were also highly prized." I think that she has "hit the nail on the head" with the last statement. Many of us were game players and found our work to be just one big game. The fact is, that many like me, enjoyed the challenge to their mental acumen and therefore we excelled at our jobs. There is a reason that the National Security Agency, the ASA's parent organization, is referred to as the "Puzzle Palace".
"They were Global Snoopers, keepers - or rather takers - of the world's dirty secrets. Some confidences weighted more heavily than others." What is not mentioned here is that every major world power (Country) had units that were the equivalent to ours. Our mission (at Kagnew) was not unique to the geopolitical world. However, our location was as Kagnew Station was a very strategic location for communication's security operations.
We were sworn to secrecy and never allowed to speak about our work outside of the Operations Center. Most individuals that take pride in their work enjoy talking about their jobs. We couldn't. "With work-related talk ruled out on the base, perhaps it was inevitable that trivia should take over." There were many on post outlets for our work related frustrations. Intramural sports were a release for many, but for many others the enlisted men's clubs (Oasis and Top 5) became the paramount off duty activity. "The army really encouraged you to drink and gamble," says Dave Strand, who worked as an analyst. "They wanted you to stay on post and get drunk and put your money in the slot machine and not go downtown and get into trouble."
I remember guys that never ventured off post, afraid of what may be out there. For the most part Officers and NCO's never sampled the nightlife that Asmara had to offer. Of the first time enlistees, such as me, the percentage was well in excess of one third. I left the friendly confines of Kagnew Station for the first time on May 6, 1967, after only three days in country. I walked one block down the hill and saw a bar on the first street on the right. I entered and drank my first Melotti beer. Soon after entering, two local young ladies were sitting with me, asking me to buy them beers. After about 6 beers, one of the young ladies offered to take me upstairs to her room for $20 Ethiopian ($8 US). I was drunk and horny, so I went for it. The next day I recounted my story to the guys in the barracks, they all said that I overpaid, which was a typical Norman New Guy mistake, and that I must learn how to negotiate in my future downtown visits.
On my 21st Birthday (June 5, 1967) the "6 Day War" began and we started working 12 hours on and 12 hours off shifts with no break days. There was little time to do anything but sleep, eat and go to work. When things returned to normal I was transferred to another trick (shift of duty) and met the guys that I would retain as friends for a lifetime, the Gross Guys - fostered by Larry "Spook" McKay. "Many had been to college and they brought the wild fraternity party spirit over with them from the States. With an overwhelmingly male-dominated population, just out of its teens, you could almost taste the tang of testosterone in the air." Going downtown brought on a whole new meaning for me. I now traveled in a group rather than alone. No one (Street boys or Gerry drivers) would screw with us. We reveled in our sexual exploits and our grossness, often attempting to outdo one another with our outrageous acts of perversity.
"There were girls for the taking and no one would lift an eyebrow if a serviceman dated a doe-eyed teenage "café latte", fair-skinned evidence of misbehaviour by a previous, Italian generation of visitors." Most of the young "café latte" girls were well educated by Ethiopian standards, and for the most part their mothers were well cared for by their Italian fathers, and not abandoned by a "generation of visitors". Some of their mothers were also "café latte". Café lattes were very beautiful women, even more so if the mother was of a pure Hamitic (blacked-skinned Caucasian) family background. Many of the servicemen that dated these young girls later married them.
"Otherwise the men went hunting. After dipping their hands into the box of condoms kept at sign-out they would be off to the Fiore, Blue Nile to The Green Doors, to pick up prostitutes and order rounds of Melottis, and knock back shots the liquorice-flavoured zibib, something of an acquired taste." There wasn't much hunting involved; we didn't have to hunt, as the prey usually came after us. I never once solicited prostitution while stationed at Kagnew. Perhaps the fact that I, as well as many others, was willing to pay for sexual favors does have bearing the issue that prostitution was a major industry in Asmara in the late 1960's. Not only were you solicited in the bars and by Gerry Cart drivers, but also on the streets. Let's face it, we had money to spend and the Eritrean economy was such that it prospered on the American dollars spent in Asmara.
"For many, the Kagnew Station tour would be spent in an blurred alcoholic daze, in which a few exploits: racing through town standing upright in a stolen garry cart, throwing up over a Bar girl's balcony, catching bed bugs, releasing of a pig in Asmara's mosque, or waking up in someone's rented apartment to find naked girls strewn across the sofas - stood out with particular clarity". A very small minority of us spent our tour "in a blurred alcoholic daze". If we had, we couldn't have been as productive as we were at the Operations Sites. "A" Trick, the Home of the Gross Guys, was consistently a top producer at Tract C. We took great pride in our work. Yes, we drank more than our share and we partied hardy during our breaks, but we still managed to be a very productive and cohesive unit. Personally I can recall hundreds of my exploits at Kagnew and I'm sure that many others can do the same.
"At the end of a "trick", or shift, the aim was to end up "downtown" (Asmara), where you could spend your "Gon Zip" (money) in the "bosch" (market) or pick up a "bar whore" and get "scrufty" (get laid - according to Zazz - "whether you had to pay for it or not"). Otherwise, you could join the list of "Mama's sons": servicemen who'd been initiated in the delights of fellatio by Mama Kathy, a local madam." The author is a bit misleading here to the non conversant reader. However, she does mention that we did use a language (unique terms) of our own. The implication that I read here is that we did this on a daily basis, when in actuality it was only on our breaks between our changing of shifts. None of us ever picked up a "bar whore", they picked us up. After that it was the art of negotiation as to with which one('s) you would be spending the night. As for Mama Kathy being a madam, I think not, she always worked solo. Mama K will always hold a special place in the memories of many of her son's minds.
Larry "Spook" McKay was an icon, a living legend. He is one of the most memorable characters that I have met in my life. I'm sure that many others that enjoyed the pleasure of his company will agree with me on this point. He's extremely intelligent with a propensity toward the perverse side of life, i.e. he was corrupted by the "Dark Side of the Force". "The Gross Guy's leader in debauchery - undeclared but recognized by all - was Lawrence D. McKay, baptized the 'Spook' by the favourite prostitute who deemed him 'sebuke', Tigrinya for 'good'." The favorite prostitute was Rosie Big Tits (RBT). Spook helped to set her up in business as a bar owner. She repaid his kindness by occasionally providing her services to his friends "on the house". Rosie called him Sebuke and it sounded like she was saying "the Spook" and the nickname stuck. "He was a conman, a loan shark, a gambler and a card sharp," recalls Zazz, with indulgent affection." That he was and probably more. But I had never known the Spook to cheat a person or take advantage of a person that didn't try to take advantage of him first. With his friends he was generous to a fault. I once asked him for a small loan a few days before payday. He asked me "what for"? I told him that I wanted to go downtown to get drunk and laid. Rather than charge me his usual usurious rate of interest on a loan, he instead took me downtown as his guest. He had a heart of gold. "His followers hailed Kagnew's version of Sergeant Bilko as 'the King of Gross' or 'His Grossness'. But Spook was more modest. 'I ain't perverted,' he used to say. 'I just know what I like'". Spook did have a semblance to Sergeant Ernest Bilko, he had his finger in many pies and was probably the wealthiest man on post. However, I personally equate him more to Maxwell Slaughter in William Goldman's "Soldier in the Rain".
Ms. Wrong goes on for several paragraphs describing the misdeeds of the Gross Guys and our lack of "cultural sensitivity" toward the Eritrean people. We were having fun at the expense of Eritrean people that served us and hurting them in the process. In hindsight, these are some of the only things that I regret about what I did while in Asmara. But at 21 years old, one doesn't really think about the ramifications of their actions and the effect that it has on others. "Would the Kagnew men have behaved like this back home? Of course not, but the whole point was that they weren't back home."
"If you were to take any bunch of kids and tell them "You know all that stuff you weren't allowed to do back home because you weren't old enough, the drinking and fornication? Well, here it's OK," what's going to be the result?" asks Bob Dymond, a former serviceman. "That's what they do. Take any army in the world and it's the same." This sums up the prevailing attitude of many of us. Had we been at home and with our friends and family rather than 7000 miles away, none of these episodes in our lives would have ever happened. I've heard similar stories from servicemen that were stationed in Turkey, Japan and Southeast Asia. Former Russian Lt. Sergei Berets, who was stationed in Eritrea in 1981 as a translator, relates similar stories when speaking of his off-duty time in Asmara.
"What strikes one, talking to veterans, is not the galumphing obviousness of their crudity, but how little Eritrea and its subtleties featured in what, for many, were to constitute the most vivid episodes of otherwise humdrum lives." It was more so the people involved rather than the location that created these vivid episodes. If you put the same group of guys together in a different foreign country; say Japan, Thailand or Korea, the results would have been the same. I had several Eritrean friends that I would enjoy reuniting with; however had I been stationed elsewhere overseas, I would probably feel the same feeling for those people. Yes, I do feel shamed that I didn't take the time to learn the cultural and social mores of my host country and its subtleties. However, I will excuse myself because I was young and more important global matters were on my mind at that time. I had friends and relatives dying in Viet Nam. At the time, the problems of Eritrea and Ethiopia didn't amount to a hill of beans in comparison.
What is obviously missing in Chapter 10 is all of the good that American Servicemen did while stationed at Kagnew. In 21 pages all we get is one backdoor hint of recognition of our good deeds. "Looking back, US Diplomats who served in Asmara like to dwell on the good works preformed by Kagnew men, the orphanages opened, courses taught at Asmara University, Eritrean Hospitals funded ......" I personally helped to build a windmill in rural Eritrea as well as teach world geography to 5th and 6th graders. Yet, I was a Gross Guy. Other Kagnewites devoted much much more time in helping the people of Eritrea during their tenure at Kagnew; this is noted nowhere else in this chapter. Of course, Ms. Wrong realizes that, as Member of Parliament Clare Short writes in her review of this book "stories of the behaviour of the US forces in all their gross repugnance" will sell more books than stories of US forces being do gooders in a backward African Nation.
Perhaps, during my time in Asmara, Eritrea I was an Ugly American, but then again perhaps not. Perchance I was a Bad person, but then again perchance not. Conceivably, I was a Good person, but then again conceivably not.
"I Didn't Do It For You" is being published by Harper Collins in the US and will be available for purchase in June 2005.
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