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 Sinop on the Black Sea coast of Turkey |
 Overhead view of the Sinop Peninsula |
After a four year hitch in the US Navy, that finished up with a tour in Vietnam, I went to work for an aerospace company that
immediately sent me on assignment to TUSLOG Det 4 as part of a team providing technical assistance to the Bankhead / Hippodrome
site that had been designed and constructed by the company. Arriving in the fall of 1968 and departing (back to Vietnam) in the
early spring of 1970, I was there for many interesting world wide events, not the least of which was the race to be the first to
land a man on the moon.
This web page is a small attempt to describe my time "On the Hill" that provided so many memorable events that are still fresh in
my mind after thirty-five plus years.
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 View of TUSLOG Det 4 from Sinop |
 The cliffs on the Black Sea side |
 Overhead view of the TUSLOG Det 4 hilltop |
 Mainstreet Downtown Sinop |
 Sinop Shopping District |
 Hotel Yeni Downtown Sinop |
 Black Sea Steamer to Istanbul |
We made several good friends with citizens of Sinop. Either through contacts on the base or by commercial transactions with
the very honest merchants thoughout the town. Like many that spent time at TUSLOG Det 4, I still have and use a Turkish
rug purchased there. Along with some meersham pipes that retain their orginal white color because I have never used them.
Attending dinners and parties or other functions hosted by the local inhabitants provided the clearest examples of just
how different our cultures were. At least three rooms were required for such events. One each for the two genders. And the
third for the main event, such as a dinner. While the men participated in the meal, alcohol, stories etc, the women remained
behind locked doors in their separate room. The main room was then "cleared" and the men departed out of sight of the
females so the latter could then utilize the main room for their own brand of festivities and good cheer. This process gave
the impression that all attending participated in the event "together."
Despite this somewhat uncomfortable (to western sensitivities) aspect of social interaction, those of us that made an effort
to make friends downtown were rewarded with some very pleasant times and memorable conversations with the personable Turks. There
are several stories relating to growing up in Turkey, told to me by such friends, that remain part of my repertoire of favorite
tid bits used to illustrate that we are a lot closer in outlook on life to our international neighbors than we might think.
Toward the end of my stay in Sinop, a function was arranged by some prominent people in town for a party for both the local
populace and invited guests from the base. It was the buzz of the town for weeks afterwards because both sexes were allowed
to be present in the main ballroom of the Yeni Hotel at the same time for music and other entertainment. Separation was still
maintained, however, as the opposite sides of this large room were segregated by gender. With even wives and husbands across
the room from one another, reminiscent of typical pre-teen parties closely monitored by doting parents in the US.
And finally, the Black Sea Steamer played an important part in a sad occurance and rumor involving two Turkish employees of
the TUSLOG Det 4 base: An unmarried female employee of the Base PX and a male supervisor. Both disappeared mysteriously from
their jobs, and it was widely reported that they were both fired simply because they were observed as being passengers on the
same trip back from Istanbul to Sinop aboard the steamer. Different times and morals in a foriegn land.
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 View from "The Hill" on a clear day |
 View from TUSLOG Det 4 when the clouds rolled in |
Spectacular view of the mountains across the bay to the south |
One of the prevalent "urban legends" circulating the hill during my stay there was the tale of a young soldier that mailed a copy of a picture similar to this to his mother. Her return letter contained the question above. So he had thirty (30) copies of the picture made and sent her one each day for the next month. After the last one was received, his mother indicated that she was begining to see his point. |
 Main Street during the pleasant summer days |
 And then came the winter winds and FREEZING nights |
 Diogenes Officers' Open Mess {DOOM Club} |
 Now Playing: Very OLD or Very BAD movies |
While huddled outside in the long theater line trying to ward off the snow and howling winds coming across from Siberia, my friend and barracks neighbor (an employee of the building at Ft. Meade) asked me to consider which would be the better movie to watch: Our choices were either the hot new "Catch 22" or the ancient "Gone with the Wind." He indicated that since an Army Captain had just crashed the Det 4 U-8 mail plane and was then promoted to Major, the former flick was probably appropriate. But then again, since the only actor still alive from the Civil War classic was the baby in squaddling clothes, we had better take it in before they all disappeared into oblivion. In the end it really did not matter. The ticket clerk indicated that a sneak preview was in the offering that evening. So we pushed on inside and spent a few hours away from the boredom and the enviornmentally harsh extremity of this middle eastern paradise by watching Gordon Pasha outwit the believers of Allah in Charlton Heston's classic (?) "Khartoum." Were we starved for something to do in off hours? Yup. |
 Heathkit Shortwave radio built from a kit |
 Location of the "stealth" SWL antenna on the roof |
To combat the tedium and isolation in Sinop, I ordered a Heathkit
Shortwave Radio kit and assembled it in my BOQ room. As a result,
I took quite a bit of guff from the ASA guys for the "stealth" trap
dipole that I then
installed on the roof. But it was great to be able to get news and
music from VOA and BBC, plus the viewpoint from other stations
in the Mediterranean area, directly into my room.
In July of 1969, I had an SRO crowd join me while we listened as the
"One small step for man ..." audio come crystal clear to the Black
Sea. As Garrison Keeler says: "Radio is preferable to TV. The
pictures are a lot more vivid!!" These even out did the video we all
watched at Hippodrome on occasion from the "other guys."
The only fly in the ointment listening to the moon landing was from
a young 2nd Lt Signal Corps officer that burst into the room
just as we heard "Left, moving a little right ..." and began shoving
a set of pistols he had recently bought in town into everyone's face
while rudely asking for immediate "approval" and "admiration"
To show you what a small world and tight knit group the ASA community is: aproximently two years later, as I was kicking up red dust from my Honda vehicle entering Long Thanh covert airfield in South Vietnam, this same 2nd Lt (now a Captain) flags me down to remind me that we served together in Sinop. Oh great! Good to see you again. (Perhaps? Maybe?) |
 DOOM Club Bartender Nyazi: "No White Steak Please" |
 Poor abused Roland. I stiil have the bite scars |
Nyazi was everyone's friend in the DOOM Club. Not only did he provide excellent service as a bartender, but also
advice and contacts downtown for just about anything that one was interested in. Except for a source to procure pork.
Because he was a devout Muslim, our standard greeting to him was to ask about "White Steaks." This sent him into a
flurious mixture of broken English and Turkish that was the delight of all that listened. I even think this was his
nickname.
Alas poor Roland!! We knew ye well and took great pity on your situation. Early during my "tour" he had the run
of the base and usually was around in the darkess of the evening to give you a gentle nudge with his nose to speed
you on your way.
But the unintended abuse instigated by too many hecklers eventually caused a degradation of his good spirts, and he
was banned to the space between the two outer chain link fences.
This just hastened his sinking into the final depths of orneriness. As I returned from town one day, he approached
me from behind the fence at the main gate. I reached out to give him a friendly stroke on the nose and in a flash he
lashed out and bit me in the upper left arm. Not a really significant wound and nothing that I blamed him terribly for.
However, the powers that be immediately convened a tribunal to determine his fate, and my hand written testimony was
"Exhibit A." The verdict was fatal and poor Roland soon disappeared from the hearts and minds of the inmates overlooking
the picturesque Bay of Diogenes.
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As is true at every isolated duty station, participation in athletics becomes a vital activity to maintain morale and the physical fitness of those cut off from the outside world. The weekly flag football game was always a highlight looked forward to by not only participating team members, but also the spectators. The only problem was that the season was considerably curtailed due to the onset of winter. So such activities, except those associated with work, had to then be replaced with less strenuous competitions such as a bridge tournament or other indoor games. Although young enough to be enthusiastic, I excelled at none of them. |
 The road from the main base out to Hippodrome |
 Bankhead / Hippodrome while I was there |
Transportation was something that was in very short supply on top of the hill
overlooking Sinop. Therefore, getting oneself from the main base out to Hippodrome
presented a major problem. Especially for a civilian. Missing the trick change
truck was almost a given since my hours just did not match up with that of the military
personnel. "Hoofing it" out to work during the pleasant summer months
did wonders for my waist line. But it also did nothing for my sniffling and
coughing problems during the fall and winter snow and ice storms.
I spent many long and frigid hours atop the two towers on the extreme ends of
the line-up at Hippodrome in the above picture. The two inner towers were less
a problem to service, but needed it more often. And the wind was just as cold
and penetrating on these
two as it was climbing around on the outer ones.
I also ruined a perfectly good set of clothes and my favorite jacket operating the controls of the hydraulic
lift truck while a soldier serviced the antenna way up high on that skinny pole. The lift mechanism started
spewing fluid just as the arm was fully extended up to reach the antenna. "OK. I think we will gently, but
quickly, get you down from there!" We did. But as the operator, I had to "stand firm" as the torrent continued
until the bucket with the soldier in it reached the ground. Whew!
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 Hippodrome with Geodedic Domes from Samsun / Trabzan |
 A better view of Hippodrome with all the domes in place |
 Main Operations from the Black Sea side |
 Main Operations from the base side |
Although I was first, foremost and always a "Bankhead/Hippodrome" contracted technical advisor, helping out other areas on the base just seemed like a logical and neighborly thing to do, assuming that proper access could be granted. Such a case was a problem inside the white dome seen here. Having just come from a tour on Swift Boats, I was amazed that the request came from a staunchly anti-Vietnam-war-protester civilian. Together we solved the problem and I wished him well in his new found role as a steely eyed cold-warrior. |
 Tropo station used for communications with "the world" |
 U-1 Otter at the airfield: "The Freedom & Mail Bird" |
Another area where I was more than happy to offer some assistance was with the telephone communications equipment
and the rudimentry airfield and aviation electronics. These were important morale boosters for everyone living on
the base. Capabilities that were the only means of frequent contact with the outside world. Spirits were raised as
the Otter buzzed close over the top of the DOOM club and then descended down the slope toward the town and on to the
airfield. That meant that incoming mail would soon be forthcoming.
A crisis occurred when the tropo scatter radio transmitter above went on the blink just as one of the officers from
Mississippi needed to execute some commodity options he had sold for chickens. Yes CHICKENS. Lots of them.
Delivered anywhere within the continental USA. Fortunately, replacing the final transmitter amplifier tube and re-tuning
it allowed stateside commerce, as conducted from a remote location on the Black Sea, to be resumed.
Solving the problem with the automatic HF homing beacon at the airport was more of a mystery. But very easily corrected.
Someone had inserted in backwards the circular paper tape that played the morse code identification signal. So the beacon
tried to send out "AIS" rather than "SIN" Very high tech this military bastion located on the frontier outpost in between
the free world and the Ruskkies. Did we really win the cold war?
My efforts were rewarded when it came time to finish my 509 days on the hill { 510 days overseas meant I paid no income tax }.
The crusty old WO4 that piloted the Otter did not even drop his bi-focal glasses as he transported me out to the real freedom birds over at Samsun and on to Ankara and Istanbul. Never to return again. Only in fond memories that simply get better with time.
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Comments about the page are certainly welcome
Acknowledgement and gratitude is extended to the
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