Category: Chad About Town

On the final day of our time at Incirlik Air Base in Adana, Turkey, we had two big drawing sessions. The base had a Facebook page on which photos were being posted of our activities, and word-of-mouth buzz was building. Our first session was at the Youth Center where kids as young as 4 came up to us for drawings.

My favorite remembrance at the Youth Center was when a little 4-year-old girl looked at the paper I was about to draw on and said, “That paper is too big.” I said, “Don’t you want a nice big drawing?” She said, “No, I want the drawing on THAT paper,” as she pointed to the pad that Rick Kirkman was using next to me. Then she didn’t want it in pencil as I had been doing, so I had to break out the pens. To top it off, she insisted it be of Doc McStuffins, a character from the Disney Channel I had never drawn before. So after someone printed me a picture from the internet, that little girl got herself the one and only small inked drawing of Doc McStuffins that I have ever done! She probably still wasn’t pleased with it and took it home where she colored it herself.

Our second drawing session later that night required returning to the scene of my attempted flight the night before – the bowling alley (see yesterday’s post for an explanation). I kept my back to the lanes so as to not suffer any flashbacks.

 

 

I do wish to mention one thing we saw in Turkey of which I unfortunately do not have a photo. During one of our afternoons on Incirlik Air Base, several of us entered a store run by Turks. As we were looking at the various local tchotchkes, we came across a bin of framable pictures printed on canvas. One image was a sepia photograph of New York City with the Twin Towers still intact in it. Photoshopped in from all angles were about twenty airliners diving into the city. The image sent chills up and down our spines. The feelings folks in that part of the world have towards America were VERY clear in that one image meant to be  hung on someone’s wall as art. It was no wonder that we were restricted to base while in Adana. If local shopkeepers were brazen enough to stock merchandise like that in their store on a military base largely populated by Americans, the hostility we could have faced in town could have been amplified.

Well, all good things must come to an end, and early on our final morning we were driven to the airport to wing our way home to the States. It also was our one chance to see the town. As with the other countries, we had arrived at night. So, our early morning drive provided us with the chance to take a few snapshots of the area as we zipped through it.

 

 

Thanks for following along with my latest adventure. Thank you to the National Cartoonists Society for putting together a great group of guys to make the journey, and thank you to the USO for sending us. I welcome the opportunity to do it again sometime!

If you would like to see more about what the USO does for our troops, and if you might like to donate to their efforts, please visit their website by CLICKING HERE!

The last destination for nine weary cartoonists on this fantastic USO tour was Incirlik Air Base in Adana, Turkey. Adana is in south central section of Turkey above Lebanon and Israel. However, before making our way there, I managed to snap a few shots of locals in the Istanbul airport where we had a layover.

 

 

Armed Forces Television also did a piece on us while we visited Adana. While I was over at the base store, they interviewed the guys who were drawing over at the bowling alley. I heard later from someone stationed in Djibouti that he saw the report on television all the way over there, so it went out to all our troops who had access to the military’s media feed.

 

 

 

While striking pins was a goal, I managed to prove on an air base that you don’t need an airplane to become airborne. When bowling, never ever ever step across that line. I did so accidentally, and found myself getting some very real air before landing with a thud flat on my back on the alley. While no one had their cameras ready for my wingless flight, Rick Kirkman remembered it well enough to commit it to paper later.

 

As our time in Djibouti was coming to a close on this USO–NCS trip, one of the officers invited us to join him and others at the Chief Petty Officers club. We entered through a rusty gate past some piles of what some might call “junk”, and entered through a door into a structure of plywood and magnificent air conditioning. There we socialized with some pretty nice folks after a long day of heat, sweat, and drawings (not necessarily in that order).

 

 

As would happen during our drawing sessions, conversations with soldiers here at the club could sometimes reveal how hard it is for them while serving so far away from home. That night I met one gentleman who had been through the ringer. He started off by telling me that just two days earlier, his cousin and an aunt had just been murdered back in the States, his daughter died back in February, and his sister-in-law had a heart attack this year. So much personal tragedy for this man, and he was unable to go home to deal with any of it. He said those buddies of his in that room helped him through it all. He was living proof that it sometimes is a great sacrifice to live a year away from home and family.

 

 

The next morning we left the base in the daylight which allowed us to finally see what the area was like since we had arrived under cover of darkness. The poverty was astonishing.

 

 

I will say this about the Djibouti airport experience – the place is full of crooks. When our vehicles pulled up to the curb, we were approached by MANY aggressive porters all with their hand out for tips. Of course, we turned them all down. Who requires a porter when suitcases all have wheels today? As I entered the airport, I had to pass through security right at the door. They kept buzzing me at the metal detector, and when I finally got through, my suitcase was missing from the X-ray machine belt. Turns out a porter ran around the other side of the machine and grabbed my bag and was demanding money. I looked him right in the eye and firmly said, “NO.”

Later as we passed through a second security check point, the security man boldly confiscated Sam Viviano’s batteries of all things! He just told Sam, “Not yours. Mine!” and took them! When we arrived at our next destination in Turkey, Paul Combs found that his running shoes had been stolen from his suitcase. We had been warned by our USO traveling companion that Djibouti could be that way, and sure enough, it lived up to its reputation.

 

 

Next stop for our band of cartoonists is Adana, Turkey.

The second country my cartoonist pals and I visited while on our USO-NCS tour was Djibouti. Located on the Horn of Africa, Djibouti is bordered on land by Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Somalia, and by sea the Gulf of Aden and the Red Sea. And just for kicks, it is a stone’s throw distance across the water to Yemen. Good times.

Let me tell you now, Djibouti had by far the toughest living conditions I have ever experienced. While I never heard what was the exact temperature, it felt hotter there than in Kuwait, likely due to the intense humidity that was always present. It was as if you showered in the morning, toweled off, and were instantly wet again. I actually developed some sores along my wrist where my watch was. One of the guys even changed his shirt three times one day in an attempt to stave off the inevitable stink. And because of the humidity, there was a very real danger of contracting malaria from one of the resident mosquitos, so we were all on malaria meds for this portion of our trip.

 

 

We were assigned to Camp Lemonnier, a military base established by the French in the 1950s, and now occupied primarily by the United States Navy. In fact, this base is the ONLY U.S. military base in all of Africa. It is a tough part of the world in which to serve. Due to the danger in the area, everyone was restricted to base, so our arrival was welcomed as a nice distraction from their routine. After spending three days there, my heart goes out to the men and women who are there between nine months to a year.

 

 

On night two, the gentleman below sat for me. He was memorable for several reasons. 1. He thanked me profusely for coming to see them in Africa. 2. I had been there longer than he had been! He just arrived that day for his nine month stint, I had been there since the day before. 3. His name is also Chad. And the strangest of all is #4. While drawing for him, the topic of West Point came up in conversation, and Chad said he graduated in 1994. I looked up and said to him, “I attended your graduation.” He looked dumbfounded, so I explained that my cousin was from the class of ’94, and was currently teaching at West Point. I went to my cousin’s graduation, so therefore I also saw Chad graduate!

 

 

Tomorrow I will wrap up my thoughts about Djibouti.