For some strange reason, I have an attraction to cemeteries and have often wondered why?  I can only suggest it is the obsession I have with the lives of people in the past and the heroes of this world.  When I recently had the gracious opportunity to visit Arlington National Cemetery in Washington DC, it was an overload.  As I walked viewing the markers and reading the names of those buried there, I felt mute and stunned.  It wasn’t until I returned to Turkey and had a chance to download the images, did the tears start to flow.

The Numbers

In looking at the rolls of grave markers that seemed to go on to infinity, I guessed there were probably 10,000 graves.  I was not correct.  On the web I found there are over 400,000.  This stunned me!

I also thought the cemetery had only a few heroes interned each year and was shocked to find there are 3-4 a day!  Below are images I took of a parade as it passed by.  At first I did not know what was going on, until I saw the horse drawn carriage roll by.  It was then I realized I was witnessing a funeral procession and I backed away behind trees with my camera to keep from dishonoring its solemnity.

The Unknown:  … known but to God

This is the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier that is guarded by the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment, day, night, sun, storm and snow.

This is such an incredible sight; I stood and watched several minutes before I realized I need to take a few pictures of it.  Below is the process described in Wikipedia:

The Tomb of the Unknowns has been perpetually guarded since July 2, 1937, by the U.S. Army. The 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment (“The Old Guard”) began guarding the Tomb on April 6, 1948. There is a meticulous routine which the guard follows when watching over the graves. The Tomb Guard:

Marches 21 steps down the black mat behind the Tomb.

Turns, faces east for 21 seconds.

Turns and faces north for 21 seconds.

Takes 21 steps down the mat.

Repeats the routine until the soldier is relieved of duty at the “Changing of the Guard”.

After each turn, the Guard executes a sharp “shoulder-arms” movement to place the weapon on the shoulder closest to the visitors to signify that the Guard stands between the Tomb and any possible threat.

Twenty-one was chosen because it symbolizes the highest military honor that can be bestowed—the 21-gun salute.

Each turn the guard makes precise movements and followed by a loud click of the heels as he snaps them together. The guard is changed every half hour during daylight in the summer, and every hour during daylight in the winter and every two hours at night (when the cemetery is closed to the public), regardless of weather conditions.

The Changing of the Guard

Following the tolling of the bell in the tower nearby, a large soldier with broad shoulders and a very stern attitude, silently marched out to direct the changing of the guards.

He is followed by the guard who will replace the incumbent. Before this takes place, he will be inspected by the directing soldier with the broad shoulders and stern attitude.

There is a full 3 or 4 minutes during which the replacement is thoroughly inspected.  The stern soldier looks him over, up, down, left and right while standing in front of him just a mere 18 inches away.

Then from the close quarters, the replacement soldier thrusts his rifle into the hands of the stern soldier for inspection.  He flips the rifle in all directions inspecting it.  He will look at the stock, forearm, barrel and muzzle.  The rifle is twirled like a baton as he checks it for cleanness and shine.  I believe the only thing he did not do to the rifle was turn it inside out.  He then thrust it back to the replacement, who deftly caught it and returned it to his shoulder.

Afterwards, the inspection took place behind the replacement.  Same thing, up, down, left and right.

Then in a loud, very clear voice, he commanded everyone to stand and remain quiet.  No one misunderstand what he was saying, except one young lady who was mesmerized by her phone.  Without turning his head or moving any part of his body except one arm, he raised it toward her and stately commanded her to stand.  She realized she was the only one sitting and rose.  Very quickly.

Every movement made was quick and sharp. Every turn of the body was with a foot stomp followed by a hard clack of the boots as they came together.  The only thing they did quietly and graceful, was the actual march from one side of the shrine to the other.

Laying in Wait, Beneath the Earth

It was interesting to note, the spouses of the fallen (or some of the children of single parents) were buried on the opposite side of the stone, and it is recorded that many slaves are buried there also.

U.S. Secretary of State under President Dwight D. Eisenhower.  Dulles International Airport bears his name.

Looking closely at this stone, it honors the men who fought in the famous battle between the Monitor and the Merrimack in 1862.  Two iron clad ships that fought for hours.  The Monitor eventually was lost during a gale off Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, on December 31, 1862.

There are many special monuments dedicated to the fallen.

And the incredible architecture.

The words around the arch state:  We Here Highly Resolve That These Dead Shall Not Have Died In Vain

There was so much to see, that I will return each time I am in the DC area.

I took over a hundred pictures and culled out the best.  They are on our Flickr site.  To see them, click on this:  Flickr

If you would like to spend an half hour on some very interesting reading, click on this Wikipedia article.

Until next time, kick butt.  And if you are an American, take a moment to silently thank those who gave their lives so we can continue to be a free country.    D.

In our travels in the world, we see a magnitude of people from all stages of life.  I have come to realize the most interesting are the very old, and the young adults with tremendous potential.

After our long R&R back in the States (more on that later), I had to run to Istanbul for a week and I took Terese with me.  During the evenings, she would sit out with me with drink and cigar and watch the people.

There was one old man that held our attention every evening.  We think he is a regular in the hotel we stayed at, and looks to be in his nineties; but people in Third World countries, (and Turkey is still Third World whether they admit it or not), tend to age quicker than those of us in the States, so he was probably in his eighties.Every evening he would go to the Executive lounge and the wait staff would take him and seat him at the table where he always sat.  It was a small round table, and if some of the chairs had been moved to other tables he required all to be returned to their places.

Always had a light meal brought by the staff, followed with something sweet.  Then he had his chai (tea).

Afterwards, he would sit and talk to himself. After awhile, I noticed he started with unusual hand gestures that seem to coincide with his speaking.  It was then I realized he was saying his evening prayers.  Islam requires Muslims say a rote of prayers five times a day.  His gestures were a symbolic cleansing of the body before praying.

It was most interesting to watch the good man.  No telling what his past would reveal.  What did he do for a living?  Any children?  Any accomplishments in Life?  His loves and his fears?

… and yet this can be said for all of us.

Take care and keep kicking butt.   D.

I wish I could sit down and write about all the amazing people we encounter on a daily bases in Turkey.  I never would have thought that this country, has not only incredible resources, but also wonderful people.

Just got back from Adana today after being there for five days.  The drive to and fro is a sight of some of the natural resources this country produces.  In the Adana area, it is a cornucopia of citrus and nuts.  Between Adana and Ankara, we see farm trucks parked on the side of the road selling potatoes, onions, grapefruit, oranges, lemons and any nut you can think of.  I am amazed at how successful this country is on farming.  Not just small bags of these items, but bags weighing 10 kilos or more.  We could have stopped and purchased a bag of potatoes that would have lasted a month for us, for perhaps 20 lira. (about $8)

We stay at the Hilton Hotel in Adana, and on one of the top floors is the Executive lounge.  We go up there and get free snacks that pretty much makes up our dinner which saves us about $20-30 each.  Plus there is a small assortment of drinks available.  I usually bring my own whiskey because what they give is what the local Turks like.

Last night as we sat in the lounge, the head chef came in to peruse the area.  He is the one who made the good food we were eating.  He could tell we were English, so he came by to express his gratitude for us being there.  We too looked upon him as a special individual who has excelled in his ranks.  Any of you who have cooked for the public, will know it is no easy task, especially when it comes to good cuisine.

When he came to our table, I stood, shook his hand and told him how delicious the food was.  His handshake was firm, indicating his confidence in his craft.  We spoke a few minutes, asking each other where we were from.

He is Turkish and had chefed in Beirut, Tunis (Tunisia) and Mersin on the Mediterranean Coast.  He has been in Adana for 8 months.  I used the trick I use with several people, that my mother is 900 years old and loves pictures of people we meet.  I asked him if he would be so kind to allow me to take his picture, and replied, Of Course!

So, below is a chef whose food we find delicious, yet unusual for any American.To Chef Ismail, I bid you success and prosperity in your life.  You deserve all that is good.

For the rest of us, keep your head up and kick butt.    D.

I must tell you about this. For those who hate to hear of Government waste, perhaps you should stop reading now.

I grew up in a family of nine kids and was raised to appreciate everything you had.  Food was a gift not to be wasted, and we felt lucky to get a belly full of food.  It was Pop’s hard work and business ethics that provided for us.  We learned not to complain, nor did we have a right to.

My core job is protecting the classified information of the US Government, so when there is a visit by a high level official, if that individual wants to read classified material, we have to be there to protect its access.

Last week, there was a NATO summit in Antalya, Turkey.  Secretary of State John Kerry was scheduled to be there, so we had to be there.  If he should want to read a classified cable, it would be our job to keep it secured.

NATO, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, comprises of 28 countries of North America and much of Europe, was formed on April 4th, 1949.  Once a year, they have a summit to listen to each other ramble on.

The Summit was at a 5-star resort on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea.  Weeks before, people from Washington DC and Brussels, Belgium, where NATO resides, came to survey.  Usually, there are several pre-pre-survey teams that arrive.  Then the pre-survey teams arrived followed by the survey teams.  I kid you not.  There are many people who make special trips just to survey the 5-star hotel to see if it will be good enough for the Secretary of State and his entourage.

In addition to the Sec State and his people, there will be a magnitude of support people.  Security, networking, clerical, transportation, baggage handlers and the typical gophers.  All these require rooms to stay in with meals and incidentals.  Also included in this will be flights and vehicle expense.  Diplomatic Security had a half dozen people there to protect the Secretary.  Local guards from the Turkish Embassy and Consulates were there to protect our Ambassador to Turkey who would be attending.  I was told there was an issue with rooms, because the advance team requested 80 rooms and could only get 30.  This was just for the Secretary’s entourage!

The week previous, 6-10 people from the Embassy went down to Antalya to start preparations.  The networking crews installed internet in a room with printers and computers just to use as a control room for operations, and secure connections were in place.

My task was to set up cameras in a corridor of the hotel where the Secretary will stay, leading to where classified information was kept.  Cleared Americans came in and set up a series of computers and printers.  Copy machines were brought in and set up.  Food, bottles of water, clerical supplies and furniture were brought in.  Individuals printed up signs designating which way was what and hung clocks on the wall showing the time in Washington DC.  Every contingency was studied to make sure nothing would go awry.

It took me a few hours on one day and a few on the next to do my work.  Included in that was setting up the recording and monitoring system where several Marines would be posted.  The resort I stayed at was next door and it was a 10 minute walk from one to the other.  So, once my job was complete, I sat out at the pool bar with cigar and drink until it was time to go and undo all I had done.

When the day arrived for the dignitaries to start arriving, about noon that day, the hotel/resort went on lock-down.  Only those having the previously acquired security badge were allowed to enter.  I would love to have taken pictures of all this, but it is extremely uncomfortable to take pictures of the local Jandarmas (local police with no sense of humor) standing around in body armor holding automatic weapons.  As vehicles rolled in, each was inspected by nervous dogs and armored security people.

I had just finished the last installation of the cameras and headed out the hotel.  I passed dignitaries coming off the elevators with baggage, entourages and bodyguards wearing bulging overcoats.  As I continued through the lobby passing the concierge, reception and out the front door, I clashed in dress.  Everyone wore three piece suits and shiny shoes, whereas I wore denim jeans, dirty tennis shoes and a Ronnie Eaton T-shirt; but damn, I felt good not being one of them.

The Secretary arrived at 2am that night, flying directly in from Moscow.  He attended an 8am breakfast giving his speech, then left to catch a flight at 10:30.  Eight and a half hours.

That was it.  It was over.  Everyone jumped up and down on the success of the visit.  In everyone’s hotel room, gifts were placed commemorating the Summit.  That day, I removed my setup, packed it up, loaded it in the vehicle and headed home.  Got to Ankara and went back to work.

There were all the other countries who participated in the Summit, but the Sec State visit was the only one we were there for.  Still, I was amazed at the amount of time and resources for a quick 8 1/2 visit to Turkey.

Several years ago, while working in Moscow, we witnessed a visit of the President of the United States.  This visit to Antalya was pale in comparison to that.  I am truly amazed at the waste associated with these visits, and will always be.  My dad, who grew up and survived the Depression, would be astonished if he were alive.

Sorry Pop.

For all you good people, keep your head up and kick butt.  D.

This is my favorite season.  It has the dangerous storms, lethal lightning and horizontal rain.

About 10 years ago when we lived in Texas, we had an incredible storm roll through the small Texas town.  The next morning, as I laid in bed trying to get the eyes to open, my wife came into the bedroom to hand me some coffee and casually said, “Honey, what did you do with the swimming pool?”

“Huh?”

“It’s not in the backyard.”

“Huh!”  Then I thought she is probably pulling a joke on me, but got to thinking, why would she come up with such an outlandish comment.

I jumped out of bed and realized why she had the outlandish comment, because it was indeed true!

The swimming pool was no longer in the backyard.  When we went to bed the previous night, it was there and now it’s not.

So, I adopt my casual attitude like I knew what happened all along.

“Well, honey, what probably happened is … well it was, it is …..” …and I let me voice trail away.

Below is what the swimming pool looked like, minus the pool.

And this is what I found when I stuck my head out into the alley. The camera picture was blurred and I’m sure the situation had something to do with it. The pool was almost empty with about 3-4 inches of water, but was still sucked up and tossed over the fence.  I took it apart since the majority of the metal was bent and gave it a proper burial at the landfill.

Yeah!  I love this weather.  Keep your feet anchored to the ground and head up, so you don’t miss any of it.  D.

Working overseas, we meet many good people and a few stinkers.

There is a young lady down the hall from my office that drops by to visit and drink coffee every morning.  At least once a week, she has an interesting tale concerning her twin 5 year old sons.

One Monday morning, she came in and I could tell she had a ragged weekend.  She sat quietly, and then casually commented, “Did I tell you my kids ran away from home the other day?”

“Ah, no!”

“Yeah.  They took off out the front door and the nanny ran after them.  Outside, they split up and each went a different direction, and the nanny couldn’t catch either of them.”

I waited, not knowing what to say.

“We had the local guard force looking for them, and the Security office was out trying to find them.  I was worried sick!”

I assumed they were indeed found, so I said. “Where did they find them?”

“Oh, they were in a bookstore in the mall.  The one that has a bowl of free candy.”

And she continued. “They had to slip though the perimeter fence of the apartment compound and cross a very busy highway to get to the mall.  I asked them how they were able to cross the highway, and they said, ‘Oh, we held hands.”

Then she stated, “I was so distraught, I didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry.”

I did notice that she seemed to have a bit more gray in her hair.

Kids.  That had to have taken a year off her life.

Kick butt, D.