Takeover!
| Communicating the military takeover of the Turkish government to United States military and civilian personnel living in Turkey, September 12, 1980 |
by
Glenn
B. Knight
"Merhlow," I mumbled as the phone
went
skidding off the nightstand onto the floor.
"Master
Sergeant Knight, this the Incirlik Command Post," the very alert voice
announced as I glanced at the clock radio, while searching for the rest
of the
phone, to see a red 4:10 a.m. staring back.
"The Turkish military seized control of the
government at 0400
local and is ordering everyone to remain in their homes until further
notice. Anyone
found on the streets will be arrested
or shot."
My
wife had turned on the bedroom light and my eyes were slowly adjusting
as my
brain kept asking just what was going on at this ungodly hour. The voice on the phone
continued to drone on
with words and phrases like "automatic 30 days in jail", "local
radio broadcasting only in Turkish", "apparently no hostility toward
Muttering
acknowledgement, I really wanted to say, "This joke is not funny?" or
a simple, "sure!" But
before I
could act on the impulse to treat the call as a prank, I realized where
I was
and what was going on.
Inçirlik
Common Defense Installation is about 12 kilometers east of
"Bev,"
I called out to my wife who had already awakened and headed for the
kitchen to
make coffee and toast and pour a glass of milk--it was now 4:12. "No time
for coffee
but put some jelly on the toast and bring me a glass of
juice." Without
discussing it, each
knew exactly what to do. Nearly
two
decades of various forms of crisis management had conditioned them to
no-notice
deployments and emergencies.
Lieutenant
Joe Saxon, the public affairs officer, had arrived only a week earlier
and had elected
to rent an apartment in
Dialing
a number from memory, I listened as Staff Sergeant Robinson answered in
an
unmistakable baritone and identified the American Forces Radio and
Television
Service (AFRTS) detachment. Robinson
was
in the last hour of the early morning shift, fighting to stay awake
while the
music played across the radio station that was not "actually" in
"Robinson, this is
Master Sergeant Knight, I am going to give you a direct order and I do
not have
time to discuss it with you," I announced.
" Interrupt programming for an
emergency
announcement, patch this phone into the broadcast signal, put me on
live and
tape it.” At the station the call had been switched to the
speakerphone and I
could hear his order being carried out.
In
less than a minute the phone clicked and I could hear, "We interrupt
this
program for an important announcement from the Detachment 10 public
affairs office. "With a
special report, here's Air Force Master Sergeant Glenn Knight . .
.” For nearly
a minute I explained what little was known about the situation but was
stern
and officious enough to communicate a sense of urgency and concern.
An
unannounced musical selection filled the silence at the end of the
report and
Robinson came on the phone. "As
soon as I can re-wind the tape I will put it back on the air, how often
should
it be played?"
"Continuously until I get there.
This is really serious," I said,
remembering that I hadn’t even dressed myself.
Biting into my toast and washing it down with
re-constituted orange
juice I grabbed a pair of shorts and a tee shirt then went looking for
a base
phone directory. The
red numbers on the
clock radio flipped to 4:15.
It seemed like the four rings I
heard in the
earpiece each took about 10 minutes.
"Hellooooooooooooo,"
the word ended in a yawn, was followed by recognition of the time and
an
irritated, "What the hell?"
"Sir,"
I interrupted sharply. "This
is
Glenn Knight, I hope
that you remember the discussion
that we had over 'Black Cat' soon after you arrived on base. I don't have time to
explain but it is time
to find that 'airman'." Zeller Schwartz Katz was the cheap party
wine of choice among American GIs in
Fully
aware of the content and context of the conversation the two hung up
their
phones at the same time without so
much as an
acknowledging grunt
With
a swig of milk and a last bite of toast, I slipped into my Indian water
buffalo
sandals quick kissed my wife and the pre-dawn damp chill outside my
front door made
goose-bumps on my naked shoulders.
Covering my head with a "
In
the three minutes it took to negotiate the on-base streets to the radio
and
television station, I was able to consider the personnel situation. The lieutenant was in
The
AFRTS staff announcers, talking heads, engineers and administrators
were
starting to arrive as my green and gray moped scooted to the front door
of the
studios. Some were
waking up for their
morning show routine and others had been routed out of bed with a unit
recall
or a rumor mill grinding away at full tilt.
They had already begun to dissect the original
announcement making a
series of spot announcements and featurettes that they could load onto
cartridges to begin providing a wider range of information for the
audience.
While
Public Affairs and AFRTS personnel are both trained at the
A
network of dedicated cables linked together the dozen plus American,
NATO and
joint U.S.-Turkish bases (called Common Defense Installations) all
throughout
the country. Incirlik
was a CDI. Part of
each wire was made available to carry
the radio signal, which came out of Incirlik.
Even at the most isolated stations, the overnight
watch had AFRTS
programming to help them stay awake and alert.
The growing public affairs team was confident that
the folks in the
isolated locations would be well supplied with information. The big concern was with the
people living in
The
signal was broadcast through a 150-watt transmitter that had toothpicks
stuck
into it at strategic locations to cut down the power.
The signal got from the transmitter to the
antenna through an old ragged cable further reducing the power of the
signal. The antenna
was sized for the
wrong frequency and was omni-directional while the American population
was all
west of the base. The
communications
people had estimated that they were lucky if they had a 5-watt signal
(same as
a basic Citizens Band radio) going out over the air.
Living in
Just
the day before, the detachment of the Air Force Office of Special
Investigations had reported heightened Turkish military activity and
the Public
Affairs Office's Rumor Control Hotline had received a couple of calls
about the
potential for war between Turkey and Bulgaria.
The staff decision was for Public Affairs to make
the contents of a
recent statement by the Martial Law Command public.
This
announcement was played during the late news, which closed out the
television
day and throughout the night at least once per hour on the radio. An updated version fit
nicely within the
station's new emergency format. Still
well before 5 a.m. the television cameras were warming up and as soon
as a
signal could be generated the broadcast day would begin and plans were
in the
works to extend the day to 24-hours if necessary.
Entering
the studio I found Robinson at the tape recorder and Army Specialist
Tom
Underwood at the microphone. Underwood
looked
up and recognized me as the base public affairs guy, noticing the
unique nature
of my
uniform. "Interview
and tape
me," I mouthed so as not to be picked up by the live mike.
Underwood
flicked a switch and just as quickly began, "The government of
Five minutes later the interview was complete and was immediately re-wound and re-played as it was being spliced into the regular program tape.
The
next hour saw the Security Police given scripts for their cars which
were
patrolling the housing areas on base announcing the news and advising
residents
to tune in to the radio or television.
Volunteers from the Communications Squadron
attempted to call each of
the 46 commercial telephones in Downtown Adana--meeting with a modest
amount of
success.
As
all of this was happening an orange and white Toyota Land Cruiser which
appeared to be driverless pulled up outside and a petite Bev Knight
stepped
down from behind the wheel carrying a basket and a clothing bag. The bag contained a
complete uniform to
replace the shorts, tee-shirt and sandals; while the basket was loaded
with
three Thermos bottles of coffee, packaged breakfast sweets, a bag of
bagels and
a couple of muffins left over from yesterday.
Before leaving the studios, she had two pots of
coffee brewing to meet
the anticipated caffeine demand. As
she
reached for the moped, leaving the Land Cruiser behind, she reminded
everyone
that all of the teachers at the school on base lived "on the economy"
and that there probably would not be school that day.
With
the arrival of Colonel Paul Chase, the senior American commander on
Incirlik
and a briefing before the colonel's interview for both radio and
television, I had
run out of work at
this location and was ready to move on to Rumor Control. I
found Airman Hren in his barracks room
and together we were soon enroute to our Quonset hut office. Having been briefed on the
way to the office,
Hren went right to work taking and recording calls from worried
families and
airmen at Inçirlik.
Rumor
Control was a staple of the Incirlik Public Affairs Office and one of
its most
important communication media. The staff had the
authority and the skills
necessary to track down and either confirm or deny rumors. The Office of Special
Investigations
routinely stopped in to review the Rumor Control log which often
contained intelligence
information before their own
sources came up with
it. Rumors have
powers for both good and
evil--at Incirlik the good was supported while the evil was harnessed.
"Hi,
could you use a warm body?" The
voice and the smile belonged to tall, slim Major Larry O'Shea,
commander of
TUSLOG Detachment 2.
Because
of a number of political missteps during various phases of the cold
war,
Det.
2 was actually the Air Force Weather Squadron.
Major O'Shea had come to be sort of an adjunct
public affairs officer
with a specialty in Rumor Control.
Whenever there was a need, the major would show up
and help out. "Major,
this is Airman Hren, he's one
half of the staff and I have just put him in charge of Rumor Control,
and yes,
we sure could use some help," I responded feeling very relieved.
O'Shea
straightened his lanky six-foot frame, saluted sharply and announced,
"Major O'Shea reporting to the airman for duties that he might
assign." The airman
had apparently
never had a major under his command before as he half stood and partly
saluted
before he realized that he was being humored.
They made a great team.
The
public affairs staff immediately decided to concentrate on feeding
information
to the on-base radio and television stations, Rumor Control and other
media
that would primarily improve communication with the internal audience. The international
newspapers were
concentrating on the activities in the capital city of
Up-channel
notifications, official messages and requests for assistance were all
taken
care of by the time Colonel Chase held his crisis team meeting with
senior
commanders and selected staff agencies at 10 a.m.
"I
just finished a conference call with the Ambassador, the Consul in
Adana and
General Burns (commander of TUSLOG), the ambassador is confident that
the new
Security Council is pro-American, but he is very concerned about the
curfew," the colonel announced.
"Knight, I assume that the lieutenant is not on base
and not available
by phone."
"Yes
sir, we tried placing a call to another officer in the same apartment
building
not ten minutes ago, but could not get through," I responded as the
acting
public affairs officer. While accustomed to attending senior staff
meetings, I was
surprised to be first on the agenda.
Chase
continued, "The ambassador has heard of your work with the power outage
and the nationwide census and the shooting of the Navy chief petty
officer in
I
could feel the blood coursing to my head and modestly accepted the
accolades,
but I knew that we had indeed done a good job--and most of it was even
legal. "I wonder
how that 'airman'
in communications is doing?"
I thought.
It
had been only six hours since that jarring phone call and just about
everything
that could be done, had been done.
The
initial fears had been contained; the early notices
had been
made and just about anyone who needed to know was aware of
the events of
the morning. Now it
was time to get
pragmatic.
Boeing
Services maintained the infrastructure of the base--electricity, water,
fire
protection, sanitation, commissary and exchange operations as well as
interpretation services. Better
than 90%
of their workers were Turks. Those
few
who were on duty at 5 a.m. when the curfew began were now stuck on
base, while
the majority were
trapped in their homes until the
curfew was lifted. Rumor
Control was
among the first to spot the obvious problem as managers and patrons
alike
called to find out how the events of the day would affect them.
Of
immediate concern to the Crisis Management Team was a scheduled 1 p.m.
news
conference by General Kenun Evran, chief of the new Turkish Security
Council. Colonel
Chase called Frank
Ricardoni, the American Consul in
"Merhaba
Nese’," began the conversation that would seem strange even
to the
participants. Nese’
D'Angelo was the
Turkish wife of an Air Force technical sergeant who was also Cubmaster
of the
base Cub Scout Pack. As
I was the local
District Scouting Commissioner, we had worked together on Pinewood
Derbies,
Blue and Gold Banquets and other Cub Scout ceremonies.
The D'Angelo family was one of a small number
of families who we called "homesteaders".
Usually it was an American GI who met and
married a Turkish woman and then decided to stay in
"What
can I do for you today, Mr. Commissioner?" was the typically
straightforward and very un-Turkish question posed by the truly
Americanized
lady. It was most
amazing how these two
cultures merged in the D'Angelo household
"Straightforward"
certainly could not be applied to Turkish society, I thought recalling
the
gyrations involved in a dinner visit to the home of a Turkish friend
that
lasted to well after midnight and the frustration of a recent trip to
Adana for
a car part. I had
entered the auto parts
shop and noticed that there were less than 100 parts displayed on
shelves on
two walls of the 14' by 20' shop.
And
there was no stock room.
After
a terse welcome and the offer of a chair, the owner, in an exaggerated
Amero-Turkish dialect asked, "Çay?
Coca-Cola?" It
was fruitless to decline the offer as no business of any kind would be
discussed until the shopkeeper and the shopper had shared a libation. Coca-Cola was the
acceptable option as it was
too hot that day for hot tea.
The
shopkeeper turned to one of the three boys loitering in the shop,
directing him
to purchase a Coca-Cola at the corner vendor.
Once obtained it was usually wise to forego pouring
it into a glass and
drink it directly from the bottle.
A few
swigs and a few toasts or blessings later it was alright to ask for the
item
you are looking for--knowing full well that it was probably not in the
shop. "No problem,"
announces
the shopkeeper, using up a full third of his English vocabulary, turns
to two
of the boys and gives instructions.
One
boy gets another Coca-Cola for the customer and the shopkeeper pours
another çay
for himself while the other boy travels from shop to shop looking for
the
part. The second
youngster eventually
found, procured and delivered the part.
Price haggling began at a number well below the cost
that would be expected
in an American garage. The
price is
agreed upon and paid. The
item is
wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
Buyer and seller exchange "alahsmaladik" and "gule
gule". In just over
an hour the
process is complete. Americans
generally
have a hard time with this, more accustomed to the pace of a K-Mart or
Wal-Mart.
So
it is something of a shock to hear a Turkish woman get right to the
point. "I heard
about the military takeover, is
there something I can do to help?"
I
quickly explained the news conference and asked her to provide a
summary, in
English, as soon as possible. She
noted
that she was not an interpreter and some words do not translate well
and
suggested that we rely on our Community Relations Advisor.
Salmi
Atilan, Community Relations Advisor to the TUSLOG Det. 10 Public
Affairs Office
was one of the highest paid local workers on base.
He read the newspapers daily, providing
summarized translations--which at some point each week would include a synopses of the latest
adventures of the crew of the
"Love Boat", the highest rated television show in the country. Salmi lived in one of the
Americanized
"luxury" apartments in
She
understood but said she would also contact the Security Police
interpreter and
the Assistant Fire Chief to do the same.
The
press conference provided little additional or helpful information but
the
translated summary was released to the radio and television station to
calm
fears and stifle rumors.
By
5:30 when the ICF-TV "Evening Report" led with an interview of Air
Force Master Sergeant Knight, it was much like business as usual on
base. "The curfew
has meant extra work for
everyone on base but the response to the requests for volunteer help
has been
very good," I noted. "Many
of
our people who live downtown have been stuck on base and they will need
a place
to sleep. Cooperation
is
essential." The
interview concluded
with a run-down of events and activities and what effect the curfew was
having
on those things.
As evening approached the pace of
activities slowed into a peaceful,
calm pace. In all, there were few
surprises and no
reports of problems involving Americans--but it will be well into the
next day
when such reports could be expected to surface.
It was an uneasy peace but a welcome respite.
Saturday
morning's Crisis Management Team meeting began with an optimistic
report that
there had been no indication of any problems involving Americans
throughout
"Rumor
Control, Major O'Shea speaking, can I help you?"
"No sir, we have no official
notification that the curfew has been lifted," answered the volunteer.
"That's
the fifth one of those in the last 10 minutes," O'Shea said turning to
me as
I was on the phone to the Office of Special Investigations who had been
monitoring the Turkish radio broadcasts.
"There's usually some truth involved when Rumor
Control is that
active." Ten
minutes later, at 1:30
p.m. the reports were confirmed and an announcement was made that the
curfew
had been lifted at noon and would come back on at 8 p.m.
People
trapped on base could go home to their families in
"Rumor
Control, Mr. Lewis, can I help you?" announced Milt Lewis, a civilian
worker whose job was at that time not essential.
Like the other volunteers he was manning
Rumor Control for a four hour shift.
"We have received no such information but we will
check it out,"
he concluded.
"What's up?" I asked returning from
a late
afternoon meeting with Colonel Chase.
"This
is my third call, starting at 5 p.m.," Lewis responded.
"According to the reports I am getting,
one American was wounded in
He
added, "Oh yes, there is mail at the THY (Turk Hava Yolari) aircraft
terminal which will be picked up and posted by tomorrow morning."
Mail
is the life-blood of a soldier overseas and even a day's delay in mail
delivery
could cause serious morale problems while unexpected deliveries, like
having it
show up at a civilian terminal, could do a lot to boost morale. Turk Hava Yolari is the
national airlines of
Leaving
instructions to check with wing intelligence, command post, OSI and the
Consulate in
"We
are actually returning to some level of 'normal' here at Incirlik," I
said
at the top of the interview. "The
curfew was lifted in
Even
the opening of the commissary was sort of orderly.
American dependents, anticipating a crisis
tend to hoard food and supplies.
Sometimes frenzy sets in and people become
irrational. During
a prior crisis two dependent wives had
to be separated by Security Police as they were grappling over a loaf
of
bread. Today saw
little more than some
pushing and name calling.
I
reported that the Turkish nationals were returning to work and thanked
the
volunteers for an outstanding job under trying conditions. Even the rumor of the
Military
Airlift Command had suspended all flights into and out of
Things
were really looking up, and quickly.
And
except for that rumor out of
Sunday
morning found one volunteer at work in Rumor Control. "Where the hell
is Knight?"
echoed the voice of an obviously irritated Colonel Chase as he stomped
into the
Public Affairs Office. "Find
him
and have him call me immediately."
Fearing
the worst (whatever that might have been) but thinking quickly, Airman
Roger
Morris asked if there was anything that he should know to respond to
Rumor
Control calls. The
colonel took a deep
breath and calmed down to explain that one of the motors in the water
line from
the wells, which were
off base, and the water storage
tank had failed and we had to begin conserving water immediately.
The
water tower, the tallest structure on base was the standard-issue tower
that
could be seen at almost any Air Force base in the world. But this one was totally
unique. To make
them visible to aircraft flying in
the area, Air Force water towers were painted with large red and white
checks. The civil
engineering units on
base were charged with painting and re-painting the towers as necessary. At Incirlik, the CE unit
was run by Turks
employed by Boeing Services. Given
an
allotment of red and white paint they set about painting the tower
using
Turkish logic. Alternating
red and white
checks would be difficult so they simply dumped the paint together and
produced
the only pink water tower on any base run by the U. S. Air Force.
The
tower only held a week's worth of water and there was ample evidence
that
repair or replacement could take multiple weeks.
It had been less than a month since the base
electric power transformer had shorted out and what was originally
thought to
be a quick repair lasted two weeks.
With
no commercial power and a hot end of the summer it was a long,
difficult two
weeks under crisis conditions.
Conservation of electricity was essential then and
conservation of water
would be essential now.
By
the time I answered the bedside phone in my quarters it was just after
8 a.m.
on Sunday morning and the thought of sleeping in had evaporated. Telling Morris to call
Airman Hren and have
him write a notice to be read at church services that morning, I then
called
the Security Police desk sergeant and dictated an announcement for the
patrol
cars to make throughout the base.
A
quick call to the radio station and a recorded announcement would take
care of
every available media. "Why
do
crises in
It
was about noon when Colonel Chase got word that the culprit in the
water system
was a single motor and that it could be repaired locally by the end of
the
day. The Adali bus
was running a regular
weekend schedule, anxieties had retreated and common sense was again
gaining
control of the environment. By
1 p.m.,
the situation had cooled to the point that Rumor Control was closed.
Adali
was a local bus company with a contract to provide low cost
transportation
between the base and the areas of
"Today
was almost a typical Sunday at Incirlik with church services, off-base
residents on base to stretch their legs and both the Palms Cafeteria
and
Foodland open for business," began the "Evening Report" on
ICF-TV. "The only
mark on a perfect
day was the short-lived water problem"
I was able to deny the rumor of the shooting in
Izmir, announced that
elementary and high school would open on a half-day schedule starting
Monday
and that plans for "Operation Display Determination" would continue
on schedule. Colonel
Dayton, the base
commander, was welcomed back from his week-end vacation to
Three
days. Only three
days to have your world
turned upside down and righted again with only minimal damage. What a trip.
Over the next two weeks everything would return to
what passed for
normal in
Oh
yes, the mysterious "airman"?
Soon after arriving on base one of the senior
communications officers
and I spent an evening talking ham radio (illegal in
Two
weeks after the takeover the communications officer and I ran into each
other
at lunch. "Sir,
I've been meaning
to ask you about the radio signal, it seemed to be much stronger the
last
couple of weeks. What
happened?", I inquired.
"One
of my 'airmen' removed the filters, switched the feed line, re-cut the
antenna
and added a reflector", he responded.
"The 'airman' also changed the frequency slightly to
get out from
under Radio Moscow."
"Really?" I responded with a grin.
"I
was livid when I found out and if I ever catch the son-of-a-bitch I
will court
martial him," the officer intoned with a gleam in his eye and a
matching grin
coursing his already flush face.
The "airman" was never found.