I promise to close this note with some brief writing news concerning an upcoming event, update you on the status of the next military history book, then finish with a few rambling thoughts that I would welcome your feedback on.
First, though, kindly indulge me while I take few paragraphs to talk about two books that have recently been suggested to me that have very special, personal meaning in my life and that of my family.
The first was introduced to me by my friend and Air Force colleague, Ed Jones. The title is Black Ops: The Life of a CIA Shadow Warrior. The book was written by Ric Prado, a retired CIA operative.
Prado’s book is good reading throughout, but one chapter in particular relates to an event that touched both Nita’s family and my work in the Air Force. “The Afternoon of Darkness” chapter describes a time when Prado was in the Philippines to help combat a burgeoning Marxist insurgency. Prado and his crew lived in Manila, but a portion of their classified gear was kept in a secure facility at Clark Air Base, a USAF military installation located some distance north of the city.
Nine miles away from Clark Air Base was Mount Pinatubo, a volcano that had been inactive for centuries. In the spring of 1991, earth tremors and steam venting began to occur on a persistent basis. Those episodes had the ultimately positive effect of allowing time for contingency evacuation preparations to be made. On June 10, the volcano blew clouds of ash into the air and magna boiled to the surface. Officials immediately – correctly -- decided it was time to go. At 5:00AM the call went out to evacuate the 15,000 Air Force members and families stationed at the base. Long streams of traffic flowed south to Subic Bay (site of a large U.S. Naval facility) and aircraft were redeployed to bases out of harm’s way. Two days later, the first massive eruption occurred. “… within seconds, millions of tons of ash boiled skyward, creating a mushroom cloud twelve miles high.” Compounding the catastrophe, on June 15, “Typhoon Yunya swept across the island with peak winds of 120 miles per hour.” Torrential downpours triggered flash floods. At the same time, Mount Pinatubo exploded again. This time the eruption was truly apocalyptic. The mountain blew apart “with the force of two hundred atomic bombs … (t)he main event blasted volcanic ash and pumice twenty-four miles into the atmosphere.” Six more eruptions occurred that day.
As the typhoon raged, rain soaked the ash coming from the volcano creating clumps of pumice/ash/mud that plunged down for miles around mountain. “The wet ash acted almost like concrete, crushing rooftops and buildings and destroying vehicles. Later estimates concluded that a cubic foot of this stuff weighed thirty-six pounds.”
During a lull in the eruptions, Prado and a small team made a dash to Clark to recover as much of their stored classified gear as possible. Their trips to and from the base bordered on the nightmarish. “Entire villages had been scrapped away by tsunamis of volcanic mud. Flooding was widespread and road damage was pervasive. After several hours the team reached Clark. They found that widespread looting had added further to the devastation. Prada’s notes, scribbled down at the time, reveal the extent of the catastrophe. “Community totally destroyed by looting. Every single house had been stripped down to the studs”… furniture, appliances, copper wiring, houses little more than skeletons.” The CIA facility was buried in hardened ash. Prado’s group “had to use axes, picks, and shovels” to gain access. They escaped just as another eruption occurred and rode through darkness, surrounded by falling ash on the way back to Manila.
After the eruptions ended, the Air Force sent a team to assess the damage. They found that Clark AB had essentially ceased to exist. The events at Clark had special significance for my family. Nita grew up on Clark AB. Her dad, an AF Master Sergeant, had two tours there, the last one as First Sergeant of the Security Police Squadron. When the Air Force team returned from their inspection, I got copies of the photos they had taken and showed them to Nita. The scene looked like a lunar landscape. Few things were discernible. We thought perhaps we could identify the general location of the housing area where Nita and her family had lived, but we could not be certain. The base was never reoccupied.
Despite all this, there was a “good news” aspect to all of this that also touched us in a special way. When those 15,000 Air Force members and families departed Clark AB at 5:00 in the morning on that day in June, the worldly possessions they took with them consisted mainly of suitcases. Nearly everything else was left behind. Almost before they arrived at Subic Bay, assignment makers at the Air Force Military Personnel Center were identifying follow-on duty locations for them. At the time, my unit had the title of “Office of Plans, Programs, and Analysis” (later it became “Personnel Operations”). Names aside, I was blessed with a cadre of analysts and computer techies – smart, caring people that many ‘Fortune 500’ companies’ would drool over in admiration. They were the ‘good news’ in this story. In a remarkably short period of time, they matched up the evacuee families waiting at Subic Bay with host families at the locations they were being assigned to. To the maximum extent possible, they sought to mirror the size and composition of the family – even in terms of ages of children, etc. -- that would greet and care for the newcomers at their new location. Project officers were assigned at each stateside base to oversee the arrival process. It was quickly and masterfully done. The shock and sudden trauma that was inflicted on so many was eased by the welcome and the support that was immediately available to them. Many lifelong friendships resulted.
One of my favorite daughters sent me a book about a subject she has a special interest in. A few years ago, before Russia invaded Ukraine, Laura spent two days touring Chernobyl. The book, titled Chernobyl Roulette: War in the Nuclear Disaster Zone, covers the period at the outset of the war when Russian troops occupied the facility and the surrounding nuclear exclusion zone.
It is a very interesting – and sometimes harrowing – tale that describes how close at times the world was to another nuclear disaster. The Russian troops and officials that took control of the site had almost no understanding of any aspect of the plant’s operation or the dangers associated with it. The Ukrainian supervisors, technicians, and support staff – held essentially hostage because they could not travel through the war zone to their residences outside the exclusion area (nor could replacement shift workers journey to the site) – struggled to maintain around the clock operations and safety at the several reactors and nuclear waste facilities housed there. Battling fatigue, stress, and illness, the stranded staff worked twelve-hour shifts for more than forty consecutive days devoid of changes of clothes, fresh toiletries, and other amenities.
As events unfolded, several unsung heroes emerged. Among them was the night shift foreman, Valentyn Heiko, who was on duty when the Russians took control. Described as calm, considerate, unruffled, and vastly experienced – he had begun working at Chernobyl in the immediate aftermath of the 1986 disaster – Heiko invited the Russian commanders to his office, and surprised them with his comments. Unintimidated, he advised them that “they were not merely in an atomic station but in a post-accident atomic station.” They were advised not to interfere with operations or venture without escort into any of the operational facilities. He politely told the Russian officers that “they were taking over a highly contaminated territory and it was his obligation, no matter who they were, to instruct them, like any other visitors, on safety regulations.” He proceeded to do that in detail – radiation checks, designated safe areas inside and outside, etc. “He invited them to study the instructions and manuals and observe them for their own safety.”
The Russian officials were taken aback by Heiko’s remarks and were obviously unaware of the dangers that confronted them. From the outset, “power in the relations between occupiers and occupied slowly shifted to Heiko … Heiko emerged in the moment of crisis as the unquestioned leader of his staff and a master negotiator who managed to turn weakness into strength.” There were several close calls along the way. Chernobyl Roulette is a very interesting story.
Now for the small bits of writing news … On the 13th of this month, I’m scheduled to be a video participant at a discussion of The YouTube Candidate conducted by the University of Colorado book club. Apparently, it is quite a large organization. With the emergence of Coach Prime as such a major figure on the Boulder campus, I will be curious to see if I’m greeted by an audience wearing dark shades and gold chains … I’ll let you know.
At this point, it appears that Taking Command, the military history book, is still on track for a mid-June release. I am scheduled to get the first full manuscript draft at the end of this month.
Now for those rambling thoughts mentioned at the outset… As I’ve said before, I suspect that Taking Command is the last full-length book that I will write. I have been looking through some notes and drafts of possible writing projects that I might consider taking on at some point. As noted in the past, I’ve been asked to do a poetry chapbook. That effort might turn into a short book that combines poems and short stories (some of both of which have been previously published). A small book devoted strictly to short stories -- given current events, the book would probably lead with “Doomsday 3.0” -- may also be worth thinking about. Finally, so much for the serious stuff …several years ago when I was still actively playing softball, I scribbled out a short draft titled “The Art and Science of Slo-Pitching.” It was a hoot to write. I didn’t really push hard to find a publisher for it – and at any rate, it may be too short to be seriously considered. It might be fun, though, to dig it out if for no other reason than to soak in the memories it would bring back.
Well, this has clearly rambled on long enough. It is time to turn to your favorite feature and close the newsletter with a TRULY AWFUL PUN.
Studies show that cows produce more milk when the farmer talks to them.
It is a case of in one ear and out the udder.
As promised, really and truly awful.
Best wishes for a great month of March and a special springtime soon to come.
Tom
First, though, kindly indulge me while I take few paragraphs to talk about two books that have recently been suggested to me that have very special, personal meaning in my life and that of my family.
The first was introduced to me by my friend and Air Force colleague, Ed Jones. The title is Black Ops: The Life of a CIA Shadow Warrior. The book was written by Ric Prado, a retired CIA operative.
Prado’s book is good reading throughout, but one chapter in particular relates to an event that touched both Nita’s family and my work in the Air Force. “The Afternoon of Darkness” chapter describes a time when Prado was in the Philippines to help combat a burgeoning Marxist insurgency. Prado and his crew lived in Manila, but a portion of their classified gear was kept in a secure facility at Clark Air Base, a USAF military installation located some distance north of the city.
Nine miles away from Clark Air Base was Mount Pinatubo, a volcano that had been inactive for centuries. In the spring of 1991, earth tremors and steam venting began to occur on a persistent basis. Those episodes had the ultimately positive effect of allowing time for contingency evacuation preparations to be made. On June 10, the volcano blew clouds of ash into the air and magna boiled to the surface. Officials immediately – correctly -- decided it was time to go. At 5:00AM the call went out to evacuate the 15,000 Air Force members and families stationed at the base. Long streams of traffic flowed south to Subic Bay (site of a large U.S. Naval facility) and aircraft were redeployed to bases out of harm’s way. Two days later, the first massive eruption occurred. “… within seconds, millions of tons of ash boiled skyward, creating a mushroom cloud twelve miles high.” Compounding the catastrophe, on June 15, “Typhoon Yunya swept across the island with peak winds of 120 miles per hour.” Torrential downpours triggered flash floods. At the same time, Mount Pinatubo exploded again. This time the eruption was truly apocalyptic. The mountain blew apart “with the force of two hundred atomic bombs … (t)he main event blasted volcanic ash and pumice twenty-four miles into the atmosphere.” Six more eruptions occurred that day.
As the typhoon raged, rain soaked the ash coming from the volcano creating clumps of pumice/ash/mud that plunged down for miles around mountain. “The wet ash acted almost like concrete, crushing rooftops and buildings and destroying vehicles. Later estimates concluded that a cubic foot of this stuff weighed thirty-six pounds.”
During a lull in the eruptions, Prado and a small team made a dash to Clark to recover as much of their stored classified gear as possible. Their trips to and from the base bordered on the nightmarish. “Entire villages had been scrapped away by tsunamis of volcanic mud. Flooding was widespread and road damage was pervasive. After several hours the team reached Clark. They found that widespread looting had added further to the devastation. Prada’s notes, scribbled down at the time, reveal the extent of the catastrophe. “Community totally destroyed by looting. Every single house had been stripped down to the studs”… furniture, appliances, copper wiring, houses little more than skeletons.” The CIA facility was buried in hardened ash. Prado’s group “had to use axes, picks, and shovels” to gain access. They escaped just as another eruption occurred and rode through darkness, surrounded by falling ash on the way back to Manila.
After the eruptions ended, the Air Force sent a team to assess the damage. They found that Clark AB had essentially ceased to exist. The events at Clark had special significance for my family. Nita grew up on Clark AB. Her dad, an AF Master Sergeant, had two tours there, the last one as First Sergeant of the Security Police Squadron. When the Air Force team returned from their inspection, I got copies of the photos they had taken and showed them to Nita. The scene looked like a lunar landscape. Few things were discernible. We thought perhaps we could identify the general location of the housing area where Nita and her family had lived, but we could not be certain. The base was never reoccupied.
Despite all this, there was a “good news” aspect to all of this that also touched us in a special way. When those 15,000 Air Force members and families departed Clark AB at 5:00 in the morning on that day in June, the worldly possessions they took with them consisted mainly of suitcases. Nearly everything else was left behind. Almost before they arrived at Subic Bay, assignment makers at the Air Force Military Personnel Center were identifying follow-on duty locations for them. At the time, my unit had the title of “Office of Plans, Programs, and Analysis” (later it became “Personnel Operations”). Names aside, I was blessed with a cadre of analysts and computer techies – smart, caring people that many ‘Fortune 500’ companies’ would drool over in admiration. They were the ‘good news’ in this story. In a remarkably short period of time, they matched up the evacuee families waiting at Subic Bay with host families at the locations they were being assigned to. To the maximum extent possible, they sought to mirror the size and composition of the family – even in terms of ages of children, etc. -- that would greet and care for the newcomers at their new location. Project officers were assigned at each stateside base to oversee the arrival process. It was quickly and masterfully done. The shock and sudden trauma that was inflicted on so many was eased by the welcome and the support that was immediately available to them. Many lifelong friendships resulted.
One of my favorite daughters sent me a book about a subject she has a special interest in. A few years ago, before Russia invaded Ukraine, Laura spent two days touring Chernobyl. The book, titled Chernobyl Roulette: War in the Nuclear Disaster Zone, covers the period at the outset of the war when Russian troops occupied the facility and the surrounding nuclear exclusion zone.
It is a very interesting – and sometimes harrowing – tale that describes how close at times the world was to another nuclear disaster. The Russian troops and officials that took control of the site had almost no understanding of any aspect of the plant’s operation or the dangers associated with it. The Ukrainian supervisors, technicians, and support staff – held essentially hostage because they could not travel through the war zone to their residences outside the exclusion area (nor could replacement shift workers journey to the site) – struggled to maintain around the clock operations and safety at the several reactors and nuclear waste facilities housed there. Battling fatigue, stress, and illness, the stranded staff worked twelve-hour shifts for more than forty consecutive days devoid of changes of clothes, fresh toiletries, and other amenities.
As events unfolded, several unsung heroes emerged. Among them was the night shift foreman, Valentyn Heiko, who was on duty when the Russians took control. Described as calm, considerate, unruffled, and vastly experienced – he had begun working at Chernobyl in the immediate aftermath of the 1986 disaster – Heiko invited the Russian commanders to his office, and surprised them with his comments. Unintimidated, he advised them that “they were not merely in an atomic station but in a post-accident atomic station.” They were advised not to interfere with operations or venture without escort into any of the operational facilities. He politely told the Russian officers that “they were taking over a highly contaminated territory and it was his obligation, no matter who they were, to instruct them, like any other visitors, on safety regulations.” He proceeded to do that in detail – radiation checks, designated safe areas inside and outside, etc. “He invited them to study the instructions and manuals and observe them for their own safety.”
The Russian officials were taken aback by Heiko’s remarks and were obviously unaware of the dangers that confronted them. From the outset, “power in the relations between occupiers and occupied slowly shifted to Heiko … Heiko emerged in the moment of crisis as the unquestioned leader of his staff and a master negotiator who managed to turn weakness into strength.” There were several close calls along the way. Chernobyl Roulette is a very interesting story.
Now for the small bits of writing news … On the 13th of this month, I’m scheduled to be a video participant at a discussion of The YouTube Candidate conducted by the University of Colorado book club. Apparently, it is quite a large organization. With the emergence of Coach Prime as such a major figure on the Boulder campus, I will be curious to see if I’m greeted by an audience wearing dark shades and gold chains … I’ll let you know.
At this point, it appears that Taking Command, the military history book, is still on track for a mid-June release. I am scheduled to get the first full manuscript draft at the end of this month.
Now for those rambling thoughts mentioned at the outset… As I’ve said before, I suspect that Taking Command is the last full-length book that I will write. I have been looking through some notes and drafts of possible writing projects that I might consider taking on at some point. As noted in the past, I’ve been asked to do a poetry chapbook. That effort might turn into a short book that combines poems and short stories (some of both of which have been previously published). A small book devoted strictly to short stories -- given current events, the book would probably lead with “Doomsday 3.0” -- may also be worth thinking about. Finally, so much for the serious stuff …several years ago when I was still actively playing softball, I scribbled out a short draft titled “The Art and Science of Slo-Pitching.” It was a hoot to write. I didn’t really push hard to find a publisher for it – and at any rate, it may be too short to be seriously considered. It might be fun, though, to dig it out if for no other reason than to soak in the memories it would bring back.
Well, this has clearly rambled on long enough. It is time to turn to your favorite feature and close the newsletter with a TRULY AWFUL PUN.
Studies show that cows produce more milk when the farmer talks to them.
It is a case of in one ear and out the udder.
As promised, really and truly awful.
Best wishes for a great month of March and a special springtime soon to come.
Tom
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