The Flight to Asmara

By George "Zazz" Zasadil

Monday, May 1, 1967. After a short flight from Logan Airport in Boston, Harry Osteen, Ted O'Flaherty and myself arrived at Kennedy Airport in New York. Our Class Z TWA flight to Athens didn't depart until 10pm giving us 7 hours to visit the "Big Apple". Harry and I decided to go to the big city for some sightseeing, O'Flaherty decided that he would keep watch at the airport in case of communist invasion. First stop, Coney Island to get a Nathan's Hot Dog (not as good as a Chicago hot dog). From there we boarded an elevated train to Manhattan and the NYC Subway system. I had been to NYC during our Thanksgiving Holiday break (and twice before that when I was younger) and knew everything there was to know about navigating the subway system.

Our second stop was Washington Square in Greenwich Village. Our master plan was to visit Washington Square, walk to the Empire State Building (at that time the World's tallest building) and view NYC, then on to Times Square and back to the Airport. After observing the hippies, various street musicians, and every other type of weirdo that the city had to offer, we headed up the Avenue of the America's toward the Empire State Building.

All this walking about left us a bit thirsty. Therefore we stopped into the first bar that we came upon for a cold draft beer. Unfortunately it was Happy Hour with 25-cent schooners. Three hours later at 8pm we figured that we better get back to the airport. We headed for the first Subway hole that we could find. I remembered that we had taken a B Train, but was it IRT, BMT, IND, Red line, Blue line, Green line, or whatever. Our minds were a bit addled from the hot sun and cold beers. We chose the IRT.

As we passed the 34^th Street station I realized that we were going in the wrong direction and heading for Harlem. No problem, we would get off at the next stop and head south. At the next stop we wisely consulted a Subway Map and found that the train that we wanted did not stop there. We got on the next northbound train for Times Square so we could transfer to the southbound train that would take us to the Bus stop that would take us to the Airport. It was 8:30 and we still had time to spare.

Another 10 minutes and at least 10 trains passed before our train came. We had taken an express into the city and now we were on a local. With time rapidly passing we started to watch our watches. Arriving at the Bus stop at 9:15, we still had plenty of time for the 20-minute ride to the Airport. Twenty minutes turned into 40 minutes, arriving at the Airport at 9:57 PM. We were going to miss our flight and be AWOL. Goodbye PFC stripes!

With heads hung low, Harry and I reported to the TWA ticket counter at 10:10 to see if we could get the next flight out to Athens. Miracle of miracles, our flight had been delayed until 11pm. After being admonished by team leader O'Flaherty for being bad boys we boarded the plane for the second leg of our flight to Asmara.

We arrived at the Hotel Saronis in Athens early Tuesday afternoon. Our flight to Asmara on Ethiopian Airlines was not leaving until after midnight. Once again Harry and I found ourselves with time on ours hands and decided to do a little sightseeing. O'Flaherty stayed behind in case the New Greek military junta decided to attack the hotel. We found a cab and headed for the Acropolis in downtown Athens. We spent about 2 hours walking through the classic ruins. I took a bunch of slides and bought souvenirs to send home to family and friends. All this walking about left us extremely thirsty. It was still early so we decided to stop for a beer. A few blocks later we found a street full of nightclubs. We chose one call the 007 for obvious reasons.

The place was empty except for a few women at the bar. We were escorted to a booth and order 2 beers. Before the beers arrived two attractive young ladies sat down next to us. The girl next to me started rubbing my inner thigh; I reciprocated by rubbing hers. Boy, Greek women were really friendly. Our beers arrived and cost 10 Drachma each (about $3.25). By this time she had her hand in my crotch and I was fully aroused. They asked us if we would buy them a glass of champagne. I wisely asked "how much does it cost"? Only 50 Drachma! We finished our beers and departed the 007.

We caught a cab and made it back to the Hotel Saronis in time for dinner. After dinner we decided to walk to an outdoor café that we had seen earlier, located about 5 blocks from the hotel. The beer there was only 2 Drachs. More in our price range. Looking out at the Aegean Sea, Harry and I talked about our leaving home and wondered what Africa would be like. There was a young lady sitting at the next table. She kept starring at us and giggling. We smiled and nodded in return. In turn she invited us to her table. She spoke some English and worked for an Import/Export Company. We bought her a glass of wine also costing only 2 drachma.

I asked her why she was laughing at us earlier. She said that she knew that we were Americans and couldn't understand why we were so concerned about the stray pussycat that was roaming around the café. We never told her that was not the pussy that we were talking about. Now, we laughed! A few beers later, I started to rub her thigh, figuring that it must be a Greek custom. Harry must have learned the custom also because our hands met in the middle. We then decided to take a walk on the beach across the highway (crossing the highway was no easy task, since the cars did not have their headlights on).

After a short walk, the three of us sat on the beach talking. Before I knew it, Harry and I were taking turns kissing and petting our new found lady friend. At 10:45, still in heat but getting nowhere, we decided we better get back to the hotel to get our things and go to the airport. At 11pm we found the Hotel Saronis locked up tight. We started to bang on doors and windows. A startled manager finally appeared and told us that we had missed our bus to the airport. We went to our room, grabbed our bags and went to the lobby to wait for a cab. The manager then explained that because of the recent military takeover, all flights were to leave before midnight, ours being re-scheduled for 11:30. He had called us a cab and called the airport to say that we were on our way.

We arrived at the airport at 12:03 am, were pushed through customs and sent running on the airstrip to board our plane, which they had held for us. As we walked through the cabin everyone laughed at us (everyone except O'Flaherty who just shook his head). We had not noticed that our cloths were still covered with sand and dirt from the beach. After a brief stop in Cairo, we arrived in Asmara, as ordered, on the morning of May 3, 1967.