This area of the website is a recap of my travels and experiences throughout the year, enjoy!

 

 

 

This June I was offered, no allowed, an incredible opportunity.  After months of talks with Rich Davis of Davis Entertainment I was offered a chance to be a part of the 'Comics on Duty World Tour.'  A chance to hook up with some great comedians, travel to a combat zone like Bob Hope, and entertain the troops.  The offer came in the form of a trip to Kyrgystan and Afghanistan to make the funny for troops deployed in support of Operation Enduring Freedom.  Without disclosing locations or troop strengths and without having brought a travel journal with me I will do my best to tell the story of one of the coolest summers of my career.

I started off my trip with one last meal with the family.  It had way to much finality, like I was waiting for the warden to come in and say, "it's time."  They drove me to Tampa airport for a flight to London's Gattwick.  I awoke from my coma in London to make a quick currency exchange, master the language, and take a near 2 hour bus ride to Heathrow Airport.  I got there with only 3 and a half more hours to kill.  After eating and wandering for an hour or so, I thought I would try to find the other guys.  I know one very well, another I hadn't seen in 10 years, and the other two I looked up on the internet to know who to look for.  As luck would have it, there was a very tired Derek Richards sitting on an aisle either looking for me or sleeping with his eyes open.  Derek was tasked with being our team leader for this excursion since Rich Davis was going with another group to Iraq at the same time.  You have to understand the bond that comics have to know how exciting it is to travel with a few.  Derek and I have done some real 'Hell gigs' together over the years and forged our bond in steel and late night Waffle House food.  He is, like most of my friends, an acquired taste.  That acquired taste is like Thai food.  Spicy and a little rough at times but once  you get your stomach used to the burning, one of the best things you can have.  A few minutes later the rest of our comedy recon team showed up, Tom Irwin, Tim Jones, and old buddy who I think didn't remember me at first, Jeff Capri.  All but myself were veterans of comedy deployments to war zones and knew that alcohol may not be available due to military or local protocols.  Besides, what better excuse to hit a British pub.  We used what limited time we had to suck back a couple pints and stock up on food for the next 13 hours of flights to locations that even our flight crew had never heard of.  Not usually a good sign.  We actually asked a few people including our flight attendant where Bishkek was and she said, "Don't know mate, but I'm sure it's on the British Airways map of places we fly." 

After a quick layover to drop off some sheep in Azerbijian we continued the longest flight I'd ever been on to Bishkek, Kyrgystan.  We were met with much warmth.  A place that time forgot.  Little men with big hats and bigger guns pointed to a series of forms and windows where we were to stand.  It wasn't much help.  With our without our base appointed interpreter or 'terp' in military speak, we spent the next four hours in the line for visas.  In the states I could have refinanced my house, in this country, half a work day for a visa.  We tried to rejoice and take some pictures in front of the 'Welcome to Bishkek' sign but were shooed away by another little man in a big hat.  We were whisked away by our military attaches to the base.  This high security area at the entrance was as much military shake down as all around ball bust.  The MPs tore into us right away.  "So you're the comedians huh?" and "You guys had better be funny."  Much good natured ribbing and after a temp ID issue we were shown the base.  Amazing what Americans do to make themselves at home and functional on the other side of the world.  We were shown our tent and told that after a quick meet and greet with the outgoing base commander we could grab a bite and the rest of the night was ours.  The base commander's tool shed/office building was close by so we walked over.  The Colonel in question was a reservist from California that could not have been any nicer.  He continually offered us cookies and snack cakes while we traded barbs and photo ops.  He gave us the run down of the base, told us about the Day Spa where we could get a haircut and massage  (therapeutic no funny business) for 20 bucks!  Told us to make ourselves at home and sent us on our way.  For the rest of the tour we were shown the gym, thankfully the largest tent on the base, the place where we would be doing our show, the spa, and most important the dining facility or DFAC.   We made ourselves at home there too.   It's been quite a while since I was in the military but I definitely remember that the Air Force bases always had better food than others.  This was no exception.  Also, the fact that we weren't in uniform and Jeff Capri had long hair (more on that later) was apparently a dead giveaway.  The DFAC, like most dining establishments are as much food source as town meeting hall.  Everyone was very friendly and excited to have the show coming up the next night.

So that was it.  We've been fed, shown the base, given the low down on how to behave, toured the internet cafe where we all emailed home, made spa appointments, and it was off to the tent to get some much needed shut eye.  I woke up needing to use the restroom.  It was there I realized I wasn't in my own bed anymore.  I couldn't just roll over, walk five feet and go to the bathroom.  Not only did I have to get fully dressed, I had to get a flashlight, put on ID and a glowing yellow belt for the block long walk to the latrine. Another in a series of little sacrifices I realized theses soldiers and airmen make every day.

After a good night's sleep and a trip to the DFAC we all decided a trip to the gym was in order.  This work out facility was as good or better than most Gold's Gyms I've been to in the states.  Staffed with great trainers and open 24 hours.  Fitness is a big priority in the military and it showed.  This also turned out to be another chance to hang with the troops. 

We managed to make ourselves comfortable and kill time but we weren't there on vacation.  It's finally show time.  We got to the packed out recreation tent just in time for pre-comedy Bingo to be in full swing.  I asked, "Is it always this packed for the shows?"  "Well yeah, that and it's the only night of the week they get beers."  This was a treat indeed.  They get us and two whole beers.  All you have to do is risk your life, fly to a foreign country and they give you beer!  I thought at first that two wasn't quite enough until I learned that they were Russian and Kyrgy beers that were higher in alcohol content and the size of a baby's leg.  That meant that the audience would be primed and ready.  They were extremely receptive.  After the show, I learned of another custom I like a lot, the presentation of gifts. We presented the base commander with Comics on Duty gear and a COD unit coin and he reciprocates.  We stayed all night, hanging with the guys and gals of the base, handing out patches and pictures and spending as much quality time with the troops as possible.  We also knew that the next day we would be off to another 'Stan' to do more shows.

A couple of the guys we hung out with were 2 Marines of the the 3rd Battalion.  They said it was unfortunate that we were leaving.  Some of their guys were coming out of the field and they would have really loved the show.  We were sorry too but we don't make our schedules.  Little did we know how subject to change our schedules would be.  Sure enough the Tech. Sgt. that was our handler/liaison would come into our tent the next morning to start what would become a Groundhog day of schedule changes.  "Sorry guys, but your flight got bumped.  There's a war on and we've got important stuff to do." Hey no problem we thought.  We all travel for a living, getting bumped is a part of our lives.  What it did though is give us an opportunity to do a show for some of those Marines the Lieutenant was talking about.  We found them where you expect to find them, the Lt. in the gym, and the Staff Sergeant in the DFAC.  We let them know we would be happy to do a show in the club where we did the show the night before, just rally the troops and it's on.  That show was another hot one.  The Marine's only disappointment was that a few hundred more jarheads would be coming out of the field and would have loved to see the show we put on.  "Oh sorry Devil Dogs, but we'll definitely be gone in two days" one of us said.  Yeah right!  After two more days of the same wake up call from the same Tsgt. we managed to get to do that show for those couple hundred Marines.  It was one of the best shows any of us had every done.  We got down to the old Russian aircraft hangars known as clamshells where the guys were living awaiting outprocessing home.  They had set up their cots in a semi-circle to watch the show.  We had borrowed a microphone and speaker set-up from the base commander the only thing we were missing was some kind of stage.  Derek, our fearless leader, asked Sergeant Jack Johnson, "Do you think we could get something to stand on?"  He'd never asked a Marine a favor before because he'd never seen action like what he saw.  Ssgt. Johnson spun around barked an order to get us something to stand on pronto and it was done.  Within seconds 3 or 4 guys were making a ramp to back a loader off of the flight line.  This was a piece of heavy equipment used for loading cargo on and off of planes.  The cots were scooted and the smoke cleared, we had ourselves an amphitheatre.  Customary for comedians waiting to take the stage we ask the guy coming off how is the crowd.  Derek came off shaking his head saying, "Wow are they a hot audience!"  Every comic that came down got more enthusiastic, Tim Jones said, "That was magic."  It was no different for me, I thought they would be tired from laughing so much but the excitement never waned.  I felt like I could have crowd surfed. 

The next day started out the same as the last few but with the odd exception that Tsgt. Whoever didn't come in to tell us that our plans had been squashed yet.  He did however say that a number of different departments offered to give us a tour of their facilities.  Most notably would be the armory and the mega-cool Explosive Ordinance Disposal, the bomb squad.  The let us play with the bomb robots and put on the EOD suits, which led to a friendly push up competition in the 100 pound suits and 100 plus heat.  Yes, team leader Richards got schooled royally.  As the day wound on we thought, this is it, we're really leaving to go to Afghanistan.  Then we saw him, we wanted to run but it was inevitable if our flight was cancelled it was cancelled.  He came over, gave us the news and left.  Alright, that's it, I said.  Derek and I were off to the travel dept. to get this fixed.  We did in a matter of minutes by dropping rank.  That led to a flight which would have us in Bagram Air Field in just 8 short hours after a long wait and brief ride in a cargo plane.

The ride on the makeshift seats in the back of the C-130 ended on a darkened runway.  We had no clue what time it was, what day or even what century it was for that matter.  We didn't know who our point of contact was but team leader Richards was on the job so we sat by the gear while the rainmaker worked.  He returned later with a military poster child, more cartoon stereotype than mere mortal man, that soldier was SFC Marx.  A man who obviously had not spent a career in the Morale, Welfare, and Recreation department.  He looked more like the kind of GI Joe that would get his wounded buddies to safety, take out the enemy, then go back to carry out the damaged tanks and Humvees.  Unlike any previous liaisons he didn't leave a lot of room for question about how things were going to occur, in what order, and how fast.  Not to say that he was unfriendly in ANY way, but the man could take care of business.  He told us it was 1:45 ZULU time.  Derek Richards and the four other American comedians could only look on in wonderment.  Zulu time, what the hell is that?  We rattled off a number of punchlines, like 'Zulu time, that must be some punctual African tribe.'  "Ha, Ha," Sgt. Hulka said, "Zulu time is the time that all bases should be sync'd to and it is the time you shall go by.  It is also, about two hours from the time we plan to rock and roll up out of here so we better get some sleep.  He led us to our hut and sleep we did.  Most of us fully dressed and in a similar position to the one we were standing in before we fell over.  An hour later our wake-up call from the front desk in camouflage came bursting through the door with all the subtlety of baby rhino.  "Wake up funny men, chow time!"  Okay so maybe this is my kind of guy.  We got dressed and headed to the mess hall which was less of a hall and a lot less of a mess than I remember.  The food, as with most of the bases, was pretty good.  I've paid for a lot worse.  We also learned another thing pretty quickly, we were with the base celebrity.  Apparently hanging with the man who lines up the entertainment, supplies the ping pong paddles, and make sure the gym is in working order is quite the BMOC.

With chow done, we had another addition to our travel posse, SFC. Pasion.  This little guy from Guam was a riot.  Another hard charging career soldier that would definitely smile when he charges a hill.  He obviously loved to have a good time almost as much as he loved being a soldier.  He showed up with our protective gear issue, helmets, flak jackets, and sleeping bags.  Then it was off to the flight line, where we caught our first ride in the series of helicopters that would be our transportation for the week.   What a trip!  We got in, put in the issue earplugs, and started to roll.  I saw all of the door gunners but still didn't feel totally comfy until I saw the Apache escorts.  I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw that Hornet on steroids roll in behind us.  We flew off to the first  base, were met by their personnel and led to the visitor's barracks.  We did what all comics do in any city, ate, took a nap, and worked out.  Chatted up the soldier where we could and got ready for the show. 

Not much of a marquis for the upcoming entertainment extravaganza, we had temporarily replaced the announcement for SoS and corned beef hash on the dry erase board.  It said simply, 'Come Die Show."  Apparently the enemy is doing the promotions on this tour.  We did the show in the corner of the chow hall, for another room full of very deserving, very appreciative troops of all branches.  Finished up with some handshaking and talks with guys and gal or two and then off to bed.  Before Sfc Zulu came calling.

We got up the next morning for another couple connecting helo flights over the beautiful terrain of Afghanistan.  It really is a scenic country ranging from desert, to snow-capped mountains, to green valleys in a matter of helicopter minutes.  We got to the next base, a converted castle of sorts.  I noticed quite a few of these interesting real estate finds from the air so I asked what gives with all the castles.  I was told they aren't for rich people, anyone that can builds high walls around their land to keep the bandits and warlords from raping, robbing, and pillaging.  Wow, how quaint and very 10th century.