Stranger in a Strange Land

"I had been apprehensive about accepting a job overseas-especially in the land of the Terrible Turks-but I survived. I even thrived!" ~ John D. Tumpane, Scotch and Holy Water

SSG Neel, Report to Brigade for your pre-Levy Briefing.

Oh Shit, I'm going to Korea! 

I had been homesteading in the 82nd for seven years; I knew I was going overseas soon.  Everyone seems to go to Korea.  When I got to Brigade headquarters, my orders read, "NATO, Belgium." 

Belgium?  I could do that.  I called Kady, excited.  Baby!  We're going to Belgium!

When I got to Division headquarters for my orders, the Army had changed them.  I was going to Izmir, Turkey.

Turkey?  Where the hell is TURKEY!?

I had to look Turkey up on the map.  The only thing I knew about it was what I had seen in the movie Midnight Express.  When the Army asked if I would take Jay and Kady, pregnant with E, I immediately chose the fifteen-month unaccompanied tour option.

John Tumpane says he was "Apprehensive."  I was dreading it.

When I arrived, I found a beautiful, welcoming country filled with beautiful, hospitable people who liked Americans.  The food was delicious, the beaches were pristine, and there were fantastic places everywhere to visit.  Turkiye is both ancient and modern at the same time.  I lived in a bustling city and could see the ruins of ancient civilizations only a few miles away.

I fell in love with everything about it.

Since that first tour, I volunteered for two more, and I would go again tomorrow if I could.  I came love this place like home, appreciate the people as if they are family, learned the language, and crave their food.

Like John Tumpane, I Thrived.

First Tour: Fifteen Months of Learning (Staff Sergeant - Sergeant First Class)

I was the Operations NCO, Headquarters Command, Land Forces Southeast Europe (LSE).  Our building was outside the city of Izmir, in Sirinyer.  I rented a two-bedroom flat across from Alsancak Mosque, just off one of the main thoroughfares in the city.  It took me a while to get used to the noise.  The Imam's morning call to prayer was my signal to get up and commune with the Gods of Fitness.  I ran a lot during this tour.  Kultur Park, just down the street, had a running track.  Admission was free early in the morning.  Most mornings, I had the park and the track to myself.

I arrived in Turkey not knowing what to expect. The literature the command sent me made moving there look like an overwhelming series of tasks.  I had to find a place to live among the Turks, get my utilities turned on, take classes in the Turkish language, and learn to shop in a very small PX and Commissary or out in the Turk marketplace.  I wouldn't have a car, TV, or phone. I would ride a NATO bus to work.  I had no clue how this was all supposed to happen.

I landed at Cigli AFB, on the other side of Izmir Bay, across from where I would work and live.  It was a long bus ride around the inland tip of Izmir Bay.  The smell was horrible, more horrible than I could ever describe.  Back then, the route took us by old hovels and broken-down buildings, lit only by one or two light bulbs.  I remember thinking, "This is going to suck!"

Traveling with me was an Air Force Sergeant First Class, the same rank as me, Joe, and his lovely wife, Kathy.  They had the most horrified looks on their faces.  As we approached the Alsancak area, the buildings looked a lot better.  High-rise apartments, streets lined with trees and flowers, restaurants, and shops came into view.  We passed a park full of giant palm trees.  People were everywhere.  I was shocked to see that they dressed pretty much like us.  They were great-looking people; the girls were all dressed up and gorgeous.

We pulled in front of a nice hotel right on the Bay, the Kordon Otel.  At the time, it as the transient barracks for the Army and Air Force personnel arriving and departing.  It would be my home for the next few days until I rented an apartment.  My room was on the other side of the hotel, facing inland.  It was NICE!  Through my windows, I could look out over the millions of lights of the city.  On the mountain was what looked like a castle.

I had a great sponsor, Rick Coburn.  He and his wife, Liz, taught me how to do things the Turk Way.  Rick took me all around the city, helped me in the process, got me started in my new job, and, most importantly, enrolled me in Turkish Head Start.  Within a few days, I had a great apartment on the economy, had all my utilities turned on, my loaner furniture delivered, and knew how to get to work and the locations of the hidden PX and Commissary.  I joined the Video Club.  Rick and Liz took me on my first trip outside Izmir to the ruins of Hierapolis above the small city of Denizli.

After they left, I kept to myself, making a few friends at work, but mostly spending time alone.

My job was different than anything I had ever done.  My Bosses and I were responsible for moving the Alternate War Headquarters as a backup for the primary HQ.  Alt War included officers and enlisted soldiers from all NATO nations with the full spectrum of war-fighting jobs.  It had vehicles from five nations and the communications equipment needed to communicate worldwide.  A Turk detachment provided security.  A gigantic camouflage net covered the whole thing, accomplished by Turk officers, NCOs, and Askers.

Sometimes we moved this by road.  Once, I put it all on a  Turk LST from Izmir, up the Aegean, through the Dardanelles, and into the Sea of Marmora, to Tekirdag.  Yeah, I did that.  It was my plan and my execution, as an E-6.  Sit Down!  I was always a proponent of ditching the whole idea and setting up in a hotel somewhere close to the war if there ever was one.

I was also the Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical NCO.  The command sent me to school in Vilseck, Germany, and then had me evaluate the HQ's defensive preparations and capabilities.  After making my recommendations and meeting complete resistance, I suggested to the Turkish 3-Star General that, in the case of an attack, having not listened to me, we would all die in place.  I was quickly ushered out of his office by his subalterns.  No one disagrees with Turk Generals.  It turned out fine.  He was amazed that a Junior NCO would have the nerve to speak with such candor.  He backed me up several times after that when I asked for changes, but I never briefed him again.

Kady brought the kids over during the Summer of 1985 and we had a great time together.  The Turks loved Jay and E.  We did a little traveling and visited Samos, a nearby Greek island, so they could stay longer without extending my tour.  Kady came back over at Christmas and spent a month with me.  We had a blast.

During this tour, I became serious about photography.  I was supervising three Army photographers, Jim, Bob, and Gil.  So that I could do that properly, I had them teach me about what they did.  Their idea was to teach me the entire process from start to finish, from composing and releasing the shutter to printing a good photograph.  Before long, I purchased a camera outfit and spent much of my free time in the NATO Photolab developing and printing my photos and slides.

My Bosses in the HQ were Gerry and Tuck, both good guys.  They were willing to let me do my job and back me up.

During this tour, I had two friends with whom I hung out, Vern and Ellen.  Vern was the young lieutenant S1, covertly gay during "Don't Ask-Don't Tell," a nice guy and a great young officer.  I met Elen in Turkish class.  She was a fellow NCO, one of the last surviving hippies, and a brilliant person.  We were an odd trio, but shared a love for movies and photography.  With Vern and Ellen, came their Turk friends, though I was not close to them.

Second Tour, A Break After England, 1990 - 1992 (SFC-MSG)

I worked for Plans and Operations, Land Forces, Southeast Europe (LSE), my second tour.

I took Kady and the Kids with me, this time for a two-year tour, and used every opportunity to leave the office and spend time with them.  We needed the time after our two years in the Parachute Regiment.

We lived in Hatay, in a thirteenth-floor penthouse with four bedrooms, a nice kitchen, two baths, and a balcony around the apartment.  The balcony was large enough for the kids to ride bikes there.  It was a place designed for large gatherings, and we made and entertained a lot of American and a few Turk friends.

Among those friends were Tina and Butch, two crazy Tennessee rednecks, and the Turk family downstairs.  Their daughters Salin and Palin did some babysitting for us.  Salin was a frequent guest at our parties.  Ellen was also back in Turkey during this tour.  She lived downstairs in the same apartment building for the first year.

My job was a no-brainer; any American Specialist could have done it.  I recorded, edited, filed, and classified all operations orders for NATO exercises in Turkey.  I traveled around Turkey on either the American General's C-12 or UH-1.  We flew west to Erzurum, south to Adana, and north to Corlu.

I made many trips to Germany to the Warrior Preparation Center, close to Landstuhl, building a digital map of Turkey for computer war games.

Desert Shield, Desert Storm, and the death of my Father happened during this tour.

During the war, Dev Sol, or Revolutionary Left, bombed American facilities in Izmir.  The bombs were noisemakers and did little more than blow out some windows, but they also tried to assassinate an American officer.  He fought them off with his briefcase.  Dev Sol wasn't the most prolific terrorist organization.

Dad finally lost his battle with cancer while I was there.  I made a trip home, leaving Kady and the kids in Izmir, to see him when the end looked imminent.  My arrival seemed to cheer him and he recovered enough to go home from the hospital.  I flew back to Turkey.  He died the week after.  I missed the passing and funeral of the finest, most intelligent, most fun-loving man I have ever known.

The tour was remarkable for the amount of Family Time I had.  I was even a Cub Scout Leader for my son's Den.  I made every ball game and dance recital.  It was all great family fun!

Third Tour, Interrupted, 2000 - 2001 (SGM)

On my third tour, I was the J3 Ops Sergeant Major for the new Headquarters, Joint Command Southeast Europe.  I took the job instead of an Airborne assignment to Vicenza, Italy.  The relative ease of the job in Izmir drew me in.  Two weeks after I arrived, I was deployed to Kosovo when the headquarters took over command of KFOR-4. 

Yeah, that was a huge, unwelcome fucking surprise. 

My plan to spend fifteen months on Aegean beaches and combing the Turkish countryside for ruins ended up being only three months.  It would have been the best time had Kady been there.

Because I was the Sergeant Major, I couldn't hang out with the enlisted soldiers or the officers, though there were some I liked very much.  There were a few Brits I liked.  I made Turk friends who made all the difference.  There were the Models (not kidding), Berna and Sevda, the math teacher, Gülümser, the computer genius and NATO Godfather, Huseyin, the Turk SGM Sahin, and the singer/goddess, Handan and her band.  They all became my preferred friends.

The job was supposed to be as J-3 SGM, but I ended up being the SGM for the whole damn HQ when that guy got shipped out for fraternization with a junior enlisted girl.  The HQ was now in the new building at Sirinyer Garrison.  Being back in Sirinyer was surreal,  like going back in time to my first tour.  The Post looked the same except for the new building and the big parking lot.  Many Turks I worked with in the mid-eighties still worked there, mostly the ladies in HQ Command.

During this tour, I discovered the City of Izmir's nightlife.  I made a few excursions out of the city, but most of my free time was spent with my Turk friends, listening to music, dancing at the clubs, eating at restaurants in Alsancak, and drinking till the wee hours of the morning.

Damn, I miss those nights.

Ataturk, The Father of the Turks

You can't talk about Turkiye or understand the place unless you discuss Ataturk.

Mustafa Kemal is the George Washington and Thomas Jefferson of the Turkish Republic.  A hero of WWI and the battle of Gallipoli, he led the Turk forces who kicked the Europeans out of Asia Minor, deposed the Sultan, and became President of the Turkish Republic.  He almost singlehandedly moved Turkiye into the modern age by instituting sweeping social, economic, and religious reforms. 

The People of Turkey named him Ataturk, which means Father of the Turks.  His mausoleum in Ankara is a place of pilgrimage for all Turks and friends of Turkiye.  To speak badly about him is a crime.

The Culture

The Turks are a proud lot.  They love their country, their culture, and their Republic.  Though a prominently Muslim nation, they are respectful and tolerant of other religions and beliefs.  They are giving and hospitable people who enjoy sharing the beautiful things about their country with every visitor. 

Turks always seem rushed but will stop and talk for hours over tea or coffee.  They are trusting to a fault and can always come through on a promise, but in Allah's Time, of course.  They will cut in front of you in line at the Bank, Electric Company, or McDonald's, not because they are rude, but because they are in a hurry and would not presume to hurry you along.  They're allowing you to relax and take your time.  Young people offer their seats to elders.  Men kiss each other on the cheek and hold hands as a sign of respect and close friendship.  They adore and spoil their children.

They can be aggressive, especially behind the wheel of a car.  Driving may be the last place where they can still display their ancient warrior culture.  The Turks are some of the greatest warriors of all time.

The History

When I had a chance to look around Turkiye, I found History everywhere I turned.  Five churches mentioned In The Revelation were within easy driving distance; Laodicea was a long trip.  I was living in the seventh, Smyrna.

Museums were all over the place from every period of Asia Minor.  Troy was just up the coast, though I didn't see it until my second tour.  The best purchases I made while there were a map of the Aegean Coast, a book about Ancient Ruins of Turkey, and a small Turkish phrase book.  They were my constant traveling companions.

My first solo trip was a walking tour of Izmir.  Having seen the lights of the city and the castle on the mountain from my hotel room, I wanted to see what it looked like up close and personal.  I grabbed my camera bag and some water and struck out, keeping my eyes on the castle as I wove my way up the mountain through the back streets, then down the Hill to the old Agora.  I took some of my favorite photographs of Turkey on this walk.  Later, I took Ellen and Vern to the same area.

My first solo trip outside the city was to Ephesus.

My process began to look like this - Buy a book on a site, study during the week, grab a bus to the closest town (Lutfen Efendum, Selcuk getmek istiyorum.), find a place to stay (Afedersinez Agabey, iyi Otel nerede var mi?), visit the archaeology museum (arkeoloji muzesi), and then head to the site.  I would study the site on the first day, reading about each stop.   The next day was for serious photography; no reading, just shooting.  I could never find balance at first.  I'd either study and forget to take photos or shoot and never learn a thing.  My trip to Ephesus was a mess.  By the time I visited Pergamum, I had perfected my process.

Troy was a whole different story.

An older man, walking with a cane, stopped me.  "Alman Musinis?" he asked (Are you German). "Hayar Efindim, Amerikalayim" (No Sir, I am American).  He was shocked and pleased that I was American, perhaps his first, and speaking his language.  I showed him the photo, and he guided me, very slowly, about ten blocks through the town to the ruins.  He talked the whole time, pointing out different points of interest, all in Turkish.  I didn't understand a thing, having just begun learning the language, but I thanked him. 

Having used up all my Turkish and his mission complete, we waved and headed off in different directions.  I use this story every time I want to illustrate how giving the Turks are.

Traveling Turkiye

Traveling in Turkiye is always an adventure; you must be flexible.

I spent weekends and holidays combing the countryside for ruins, beaches, and hiking trails.  I would map out where I wanted to go, catch a taxi to the Autobus Garage, tell the kids recruiting for their bus where I wanted to go, hop on the newest-looking bus headed that way, pay my ticket, and sit back for scenery and map checks.  I found that keeping a map and compass on you is a must lest you pass your destination before someone remembers your stop. A handy item is an English book to open up on the bus.  There are always students who will want to practice their English.

Once in your town, a smattering of Turkish and some decent hand and arm signals will get you to your market, beach, site, or museum. A small Turkish phrasebook helps find a good hotel, the best food, shopping, and for emergencies.

Note: Now, I'd probably use Google Translate.

Turks don't mind you murdering the Turkish language.  They consider it a compliment that you care to try.  The point-and-read method hardly ever works; Turks will insist that you try to pronounce your phrase.  Be prepared for an exacting lesson or two if you get something wrong.  I once had a fifteen-minute class from a pretty Turk girl on how to say, "My Name Is John."  My "ismim Jon" was never quite good enough for her approval.  Turks called the way I spoke Turkish "Tarzanja," speaking like Tarzan.

The language is easy once you get the hang of the vowels, vowel agreement, and word endings and understand that their sentence syntax is backward - To Town To Go I Want.  However, don't expect to understand much; Turks talk to each other in Idioms.

If you're a photographer, another good thing to have with you is a bag of Tootsie Rolls.  They keep well in the Turkish heat, making a nice treat for the Turk kids you want to photograph, and they occupy the little guys while you're trying to take photos without them jumping in your field of view.  The kids love to pose, the adults, not so much.  Turks consider it very rude to take someone's photo without their permission.  That was one of the first Turkish phrases I learned- Lutfin, Resminise Cekebilermiyim (please, may I pull your image)?  It took a lot of practice.

Trying to take a photo of one Turk child is Impossible.

Bathroom stops along the way are an experience all to themselves.  Rarely will you find an American-style toilet at bus stops.  We called Turk toilets "Bomb Sights."  I'm sure you get the picture. However, bus stop food is usually outstanding, simple, but delicious! Just point at what you want.

My favorite stories of Turkey come from those trips that went a little off track.  Getting lost, missing my bus or stop, going the wrong way, or running out of gas have made for memorable experiences every time.

Yep.  Flexibility is the way to go in Turkiye.

Turkish Cuisine

To Me, Turkish is the best food in the whole world.  It is a wonder that I didn't come back from Izmir weighing 300 pounds; I ate all the time and usually asked for double portions.  The vegetables and fruits are fresh and organic.  The dishes are well prepared, pleasing to the eye, delicious, and come with great names like "The Priest Fainted" and "Woman's Thigh Meatballs.

I quickly found amazing places to eat in Izmir.  My Favorites are The Altin Kapi for the Iskandar Doner, Miko's Grill for the Octopus Pie, and Venedik's for the Pizza.

I spent some great nights eating at great restaurants for two to three hours, drinking and dancing till dawn, taking a walk along the Birinci Kordon at sunrise, and eating breakfast at a soup kitchen, before heading back to the apartment, getting some rest, and then doing it all again the next night.

All other things aside, I could live in Turkey for the food.

It Is All About the People

I began some of my closest and longest friendships in Turkey. With each trip came incredible adventures, new things to learn, and great personalities. With each new person came a lifetime of memories, smiles, and stories.