Comic's Log
COMICS ON DUTY in the Middle East!
Part II (Click here for Pt. I!)
STEVE MAZAN's detailed account of his Comics On Duty
tour of the Middle East! Doing comedy for the armed forces on the
other side of the world!
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5/15-18 Close to the Heat-- Wow. Haven't had anytime to keep this journal up. After our incredible
shows in Anaconda we have been on a tear. The next day we got up early
and flew to 3 different bases for three different shows. One morning,
one afternoon and one in the evening. The camps, all located around
Baghdad, were Camps Normandie, Gabe, and Warhorse.
The next day we did FOUR shows on four different bases. One morning, one afternoon and two evening. We were at Camp Caldwell, Cobra, McKenzie and Wilson. These bases/camps of the last two days are called FOB's. FOB stands for Forward Operating Base. Meaning that these camps are up on the front lines of the action. Entertainment seldom gets to them. Knowing that made these shows especially rewarding.
Despite the rewards, the schedule was grueling. The temperature in Kuwait had been tolerable, but was now into the 100's. This, combined with the travel immediately following each show, and the fact that most of the shows were outside in the heat was taking its toll. We were all exhausted. Do a show, get on a Blackhawk, get off, do a show, and get back on the Blackhawk.
Aha! Yes, the Blackhawk. The Blackhawk is the Army's workhorse helicopter. Used for patrols and moving small amounts of people safely, it gets a lot of use. It has gunner's mounts on each side, and is painted an ominous dull black. Very cool-looking, and even cooler to ride in. The Blackhawks were featured in the Ridley Scott movie "Blackhawk Down" which I recommend seeing, unless you plan on riding in one someday. Up to this point we had been flying in the C-130 airplanes. Now the camps we are visiting are much closer together so, we will be taking helicopters from here on out.
I had done chopper rides on vacations before, but this blew that away. The pilots know we are performers and so they show off. It's like the greatest roller coaster ride of your life. Rich keeps giving the pilots patches and stickers to try and make the comics puke. It's been a blast.
5/20 In the Capital--
Today was a great day. We are actually in Baghdad now, which may seem to contradict the "great" part. It's actually an incredible city. Especially when seen from a helicopter. There are palaces all over the place, surrounded by man-made lakes, and some amazing mosques. Very picturesque.
Obviously these were all built by, and for, Saddam. So the rest of the city is very Third World-looking. There is trash everywhere and the houses look to be in shambles. And this is not from the ongoing war. Unbelievably, the areas closest to the fighting are the most pristine. This is because Uncle Sam and his soldiers have set up shop in Saddam's palaces and buildings. So even if some hostiles mortar a building or knock down a wall, it still looks nicer than the areas that the Baghdad citizens are living in day-to-day.
We are actually staying in one of Saddam's guest palaces in North Baghdad-- I actually made a joke at a security briefing, calling the area "NoBag" for short-- and got stares and dead silence from everyone in the room. Comedy is hard. The palace is extraordinary. It is now a transient hotel for servicemen, but once housed friends and guests of Saddam. It's bigger than The White House, and pales in size to Saddam's own digs which lie across the moat.
We did three shows today. Two were indoor. The first was at Camp Cooke's dining facility
with about 900 people. There were 10,000 people on base, so they had to hand out tickets to limit the size of the crowd. It was one of the best shows we've had. The stage was a boxing ring with the ropes taken off. Everyone had a rocking set.
The next show was at a different camp, Trojan Horse, (10 minute Blackhawk ride) and in a theatre. This show was in the mid-afternoon, when there are a lot of things going on so attendance was light-about 40 people-but they were still fun and appreciative.
The last show looked like it was going to be a dud. It was outside of the Camp Victory North's PX (store) and next to a Burger King trailer that opens up to an outside eating area with picnic tables and a few gazebos. Basically it was a food court. Our escorts told us there wasn't much advertising done for the show and that it coincided with dinner, which most soldiers won't miss. Also, there were no chairs. Every other outdoor show we did had about a hundred or so folding chairs set up in front. So unless the troops brought their own chairs, there was only a few picnic tables or the ground to sit on.
Somehow the show ended up going well. The crowd started with about 20 people there and they were really enjoying it. Eventually others saw the crowd and it grew to a little over a hundred. Everyone had a good set, even though the sound system failed a couple times. Just goes to show you, you never know.
5/21 More Baghdad--
OK. Still in Baghdad. Now on a different installation. Victory South. One that doesn't have a palace. We are back to staying in tents. Still amazing though, that the soldiers are staying in tents with air-conditioning, TV's, some with satellites and Xbox's. I'm sure a far cry from the digs the World War II desert soldiers stayed in. Palace or not, it could be worse.
The first show of the day was in a building built specifically for the soldier's recreation. It had pool and ping-pong tables, a library, phone and computer center, and a place to check out movies and games. Our show was held upstairs. Our escorts said they were expecting a great crowd. When we got upstairs they had 12 chairs set up. (!?) Sometimes, "standing-room only" isn't as impressive as it sounds.
About 150 people crammed into the room (138 standing) for another great show. The speaker system went out during Chris's set. He was headlining and just plowed forward without a mic. They appreciated the effort and he destroyed. Chris does a lot of crowd work, and making fun of the different ranks and jobs. They love it. It's kind of a nice variety of styles we have on the tour. Bob is all over the place being goofy and making fun of Iraq, Jeffrey does his magic, I do no real material about Iraq or the service, PJ does a lot of prepared material on his time in the service, and Chris works the crowd for service jokes. A nice mix.
The second show's venue was easily the biggest I've ever played. It was an airplane and helicopter hangar at Camp BIAP. It was across from our tent and I swear it could have housed the Queen Mary. Comfortably. An army band played for an hour before us. There was probably 400 people there. This would have seemed like 2 people in a regular comedy club, but luckily all the empty space was filled with helicopters. It made for a cool and cozy cavern.
The sound was very echo-y, but we all did well.
After the show, some cute Army women invited us to go to midnight chow. We joined them and had a fun time. I realized as we were eating, that it was my birthday. Having passed midnight it was officially the 22nd. Except for this journal I have lost track of the days. Bob and one of the women talked an Iraqi food preparer into getting a candle, a piece of cheesecake, and a couple of non-alcoholic beers. They sang to me and we all shared the beers. They also gave me a food preparer's hat to wear that said "Birthday Boy" on one side. Sounds very nice, and it was. But all comics have a dark sense of humor, even when they are being sweet. After five minutes of wearing the hat, I realized the other side said, "Big Fag!" We had three shows scheduled for my birthday, and my wish was to have three great shows. I don't know if I didn't blow out the candle correctly, or I wished at the wrong time, but it didn't come true.
5/22 Birthday in Baghdad!--
Our first show was in a motor pool building at Striker's Island, with one end open. It was terrible. Bob hosted and did alright, but then I tanked and came off feeling pretty crappy. The guys tried to tell me it went fine, but it hadn't been up to par. I was sitting in back feeling sorry for myself, when something great happened. Everyone else had a bad show too! A comic's dream. It wasn't me. It was the audience. Or the venue. Or the sound system. Or that bird that kept flying though the show. Or maybe it was all of us comics. In any case it wasn't just me that sucked. Whew, what a relief. How sad the ego of a performer is.
The second show went pretty much the same. It was held in a big tent at FOB Morgan, and the place was packed with about 300 people, and some more standing. This time we all had off sets, except Chris, who played with the crowd a lot. When he did material it came down a bit, and he sensed that and worked them over. I was down again about having a poor set, but something hilarious did come of this show.
People often ask me before heading over here if I'm scared. I admit that I'm a little concerned (especially as of late, watching the news), but that once I'm over here I'm not. They wonder why I'd be less scared once I'm closest to the action. I try and explain that some type of mob mentality takes over. The troops over here are not scared. Sure, none of them want to be close to danger, and they are concerned about their safety. However, this is their daily routine. Living with the dangers around them. That being the case, they do not show that concern or fear outwardly. It's like a job. A routine. When you arrive, you automatically adapt to that demeanor. If they were all running around frightened, and looking at us like we were nuts, we'd react the same. So we quickly start acting the same. A great example of this happened at the second shows today.
Before our show an Army band played for the troops. They played outside and it was scorching, so there were only a dozen or so people watching them. All of the comics were in a trailer listening from the air conditioning and preparing our sets. They're playing typical
Dixieland jazz, like "When the Saints Go Marching In." "Bah-bah-bah-bump, bah-bah-bah-bump..." and so on. The band ended one of their songs, and in that silence it happened.
"BOOM!" A huge explosion goes off, that sounds relatively close. We all look at each other, wondering what to do. After a couple seconds, "BOOM," another explosion. We all look at each other in fear, waiting for someone to tell us it's all clear, or to run to a bunker. After a couple seconds all we hear is, "Bah-bah-bump, bah-bah-bah-bump..." The band actually kicks back into their set! Oh, yeah, let's dance. Unbelievable.
It turns out the explosion was some ordinance the Army found, and were purposely setting off themselves. A common occurrence here. But it's a great example of how routine some incredibly scary things become over here. We were the only ones scared.
Our final show of the night was at Camp Delta, an FOB about a 90-minute helicopter ride from Baghdad. This camp seemed very new, because it had very little as far as amenities. One of their officers told us their workout facilities and recreation center was extremely poor, and that this was the first night of entertainment they had since arriving. Their dining facility was in a shabby old hangar. This was also where we held the show, after dinner.
An Army rock band played before us and they were really good. The crowd was having a great time before we ever started our show. In fact, the Army band received award certificates, and base coins, from the Base Commander and then played a couple more songs. All of us comics were excited to see that the Commander had given out coins to the band. Most bases, and/or divisions have their own special coins that display their name and group insignia. Some are very ornate, and detailed. It's an honor to receive one, and we had all enjoyed collecting them. It looked like we'd get more tonight.
Bob hosted and did great. He blew the place up. He was very blue. Every other word was an F-bomb, and every subject had to do with his crotch. There were also some Army women sitting up front who he directed a lot of moaning, spanking, thrusting and general leering towards. They played along and were laughing very hard.
Now, being "blue" on these tours is a tricky decision. These men and women are at war. They have seen horrific things. They are not overly sensitive to swearing or sexual subjects. In fact most of them have gone so long without sex that the subject is a nice release (pun intended). However, because of the strict codes of the military, along with many sexual harassment problems throughout the branches, working "blue" is a bit risky. Offending someone in the audience has much bigger repercussions than just an unsatisfied customer, like you'd have at a club. Serious charges could arise, and the future of possible tours could be threatened. But like any time a comic, anywhere, is told not to go "blue," it is usually that kind of humor that the audience likes best.
Rich, our producer had warned us all about being too graphic, or offensive, and the possible consequences. Bob had been going up first on almost every show since we started the tour. No one's favorite spot. Admittedly, he was fed up with having just "good" sets, and wanted to rock the house from the get-go. Well, this night he let loose from all the inferred restrictions and had a ball. And so did the audience. He was blue. Very blue. Dark, navy blue. He actually ended his set by telling a street joke where a young child asks a stranger in a car to cum on his face for candy.
As I was sitting in the wings waiting to go on, all the other comics were patting me on the back and sarcastically saying "Have a good set." Out of the five of us, I'm one of the two cleanest acts on the bill. So Bob's "Blue Bonanza" was gonna be tough to follow.
Bob introduced me, and also mentioned it was my birthday to the audience. As we shook hands in passing he apologized. I understood. There is only so much fun you can have in the first spot, trying to get the audience onboard. I used an old trick I saw another comic use once (although I remembered the trick, I don't remember the comic, sorry---but thanks). The trick was to call attention to the blueness of the previous act and somehow make a joke about it right away. Luckily, I have a bit about not being very good at cussing, and how when I do swear I end up looking like an idiot. I usually tell this joke at the end of my set, but used it up front after poking fun at Bob a bit. Thank God (or Allah since we were in his yard) it worked. I didn't want to end my birthday 0-for-3. I ended up having a great set. As I finished and thanked them for making my b-day special, the girls Bob had singled out started singing "Happy Birthday." Everyone else quickly joined in. A hangar of 300-plus servicemen were singing to me. Even the foreign soldiers (from Poland) and the Arab food line workers were singing. It was very cool, and touching. Someone said my eyes watered up, but I swear I just had sand in my eye. The funniest part was a typical stand-up comedy moment. When the audience got to the part of the song where they said my name, only half of them remembered it. Ha! I doubled over in laughter at the mumbling, and the few "Happy Birthday, Mr. Funnyguy"'s that I heard. 25 minutes cracking these people up to the level of snorting, and they still didn't know my name. Ahhhh, comedy. What a humbling career. Still, it was perfect.
Everyone else had monster sets as well, and we all agreed that this may have been one of the best shows yet. Surprisingly, we didn't receive any coins at the end of the show. The division has roots in the old Calvary, and their Commander was wearing an old, big, black, Calvary hat with the gold tie adorning the inner brim. I pointed out to the Commander that wearing it really defeated the purpose of camouflage, and Chris actually called the guy "Robert Duvall." Both very funny. And both possible reasons we didn't get coins.
The flight home was a long one. It seemed to take even longer than 90 minutes, and it was pitch black out, so there wasn't much scenery, except distant lights. Sometimes because of the heat, the Blackhawks will keep their doors open while flying. Almost all of our flights were like this. It makes it cool in both view and temperature. However, when they do this, there is one awful seat to sit in. Because of the airflow from flying and the rotors above, the back right seat facing forward is awful. You are bombarded with out of control gusts. You feel like Chevy Chase and Dan Ackroyd in the one funny moment from "Spies Like Us, " when they come off the motion accelerator, and their faces are pulled back tight baring their teeth and eye sockets. Funny to see, but not to experience. We had all made the mistake of sitting in that seat on one flight or another. Once. Even hearing someone else's horror story didn't stop us from thinking, "How bad could it be?" But all of our previous rides had been 10-20 minutes. Painful, but short. On this ride home, Jeffrey, who hadn't yet sat there, jumped in that seat. We all looked at each other with the delight of a great inside joke. Before we took off, Bob, caved in and told Jeffrey he should move. We all realized 90 minutes would be unbearable, and backed Bob up. Jeffrey waved us off. The cockiness! We all relented. Except Bob. He again tried to convince Jeffrey it was a bad idea, and to switch to another open seat. Jeffrey waved him off again. Twice. Bob gave up and spent the next 90 minutes having the phrase, "I told you so" sprinting through his head. Jeffrey was miserable fighting off the wind, shooting saliva out of his uncontrolled lips, and possibly receiving serious inner ear damage. It was hilarious.
5/23-26 Back In Kuwait--
Haven't kept an accurate journal for a couple days. So I'm summarizing here. We flew back to Kuwait on the 23rd and quickly checked into the Raddison, where we each had our own rooms. It was nice to be spoiled. The housing, combined with the realization that we had spent a week in and around Baghdad, Iraq (one of the most dangerous places on the planet) and made it out safe, put us all in a very relaxed state. For the next couple days we had two shows each day at camps within an hour of Kuwait city. When we weren't on the road we were at the hotel pool hitting on stewardesses, or smoking Cuban cigars.
There were some very memorable shows over these few days. After Camp Wolverine we played a day show at camp Patriot and a night show at a huge base called Arifjan. Arifjan had a great combination of the services. All branches represented. The stage there was huge and about 2000 people came to the show. Yeah, 2000. Besides the numbers, there was a big contingent of soldiers about to head home after 18 months in the Middle East. All ingredients for a great show.
Everyone did have a great show at Arifjan, and playing to that many people is an extraordinary feeling. PJ closed the show and actually extended his set because the audience didn't want the show to end. We signed autographs and shook hands forever. Most of the guys list this as the best show yet, and, response and size-wise, it was. But to me there was something more to playing to guys out in the more dangerous areas, who were nowhere close to going home that made them more meaningful. In any case it was a blast.
There were some awkward shows in here too. We performed at Camp Navstar, Victory, and Doha. They all went well, but in my opinion, only because these guys are starving for entertainment. We played a couple outdoor shows in 130-degree heat, to 30 people or so. At another camp we performed in the lunch room. During lunch. Just two feet from the salad bar. In fact, the lettuce and tomatoes separated me from most of the audience, who were busy eating. Somehow these shows went well, despite the conditions.
I want to say that although I'm poking fun at the stages, and the set-ups, I would perform anywhere, under any abnormal conditions for these men and women. You leave your ego at home on these trips. Complaining about the mic, the sound, or the lighting becomes ridiculous when explosions are going off in the distance.
I did cause a minor incident at one base. We were playing an outdoor show one evening at Camp Virginia. Their spotlight pole broke, so the first comic, Bob, played in complete darkness. This camp also had an idea to allow one lucky audience member the chance to sit onstage with each comic. Five comics, five "lucky" audience members. There was a goofy blow-up chair at the back right side of the stage they would sit in. The officer who came up with the idea said the plan was twofold: it would be like a prize for the person who got to sit there, and the comic could then roast the person. We all thought it was a bad idea for many reasons. First of all, it's awkward to have someone onstage with you-- especially behind you. Secondly, what if you don't like to roast people, or the person can't take the roasting? The officer assured us it would all work great and that the audience was excited about it.
Just as Bob wrapped up his last joke, the new spotlight pole turned on. Thanks to the illumination, Bob closed strong. Bob's lucky guest had been a 20-something man named Jose. Jose was a nice kid, but not at all into being roasted. He sat completely stone-faced as Bob skewered him. The audience enjoyed it for a bit, but lost interest quickly once they realized Jose was not in on the fun. Bob pretty much ignored him for most of his set, which was smart. Upon finishing, Bob thanked Jose and introduced me.
I took the stage and read from a piece of paper the name of the next "lucky winner." The name on the paper said "The Yee-ha! Twins." Alright. "A couple of cute Army girls," I'm hoping. No such luck. Two guys wearing wrangler jeans (in a desert) and cowboy hats, come running to the stage. This base allows the soldiers to wear civilian clothes if they are off-duty. Almost every other base, and all the ones in Iraq, require the men and women to be in their camouflage uniforms, or gym attire, with their weapons, at all times.
The "Yee-Ha!Twins" take the stage, and I introduce myself. I ask them where they are from. Texas. I tell them I never would have guessed (big laugh). I ask them how they got their names. They say Yee-Ha! a lot. I tell them I never would have guessed (big laugh). I tell them I'm glad they are over here fighting for us, and that it's my privilege to have them as my guests onstage. I point to the blow-up chair, which is pretty big, and tell them it comfortably seats two. As they walk towards it, I call it a "loveseat" (big laugh). The guys laugh, but refuse to sit together on the chair. I ask them why, and one of them (Yee?) says, "I'm not sitting that close to him!" I crack up and wonder aloud, why the sudden homophobia? "It was OK to dress alike, talk alike, and be referred to as unrelated twins by everyone on the base... but sitting together is GAY?" (the audience roars) I spend the next five minutes ripping into the cowboys. The audience loves it, and the guys are being great sports as well.
I know I can't just spend 20 minutes ripping on these guys, so I turn around and start to go into my regular material. I have a joke about Oregon, so I ask the audience if there are any "Oregonians, Oregites, Oreo's, whatever they call you" there. A woman standing in back, off to the left, yells something out. I assume she's answering me, and say to her, "Are you from Oregon, young lady?"
"That's right, old Man!" she snaps back. The audience "ooohhhs."
I ask her jokingly why she has to be mean.
"You called me Young Lady!" she shoots back with an attitude.
I say, "I called you young lady as a sign of respect."
"I don't like to be called young lady!" she yells.
"I meant it as a compliment," I say.
"I don't take it that way!" she says.
"Well, I coulda said little ho," I blurt out.
The audience goes nuts. People are high-fiving, and doubling over in laughter. I can even hear the cowboys behind me laughing hard. Sound guy is even cracking up. Amidst this wave of laughter, I am already regretting saying that. I was in my "roast" mode, and was on the defense from her attitude and "old" comment, and just let it fly. I knew it would kill. But I also immediately knew it probably crossed the line. Had this been a comedy club, I wouldn't have cared. In fact, I would probably have been using this regret time to wallow in the applause and devise the next zinger I was going to throw at the patron.
This was different. First of all, this is the military. There is always the fear of sexual harassment or offensive remarks. Even jokingly. Secondly, it was too harsh. For me, in this situation. I was here to make these people feel good. All of them. The guys onstage were in on the jokes. This girl wasn't, and I knew that. Whether or not she had cut me down, it wasn't the right place to get into that game of one-upsmanship. I felt bad right away.
I said, "I'm kidding," and went right back into the joke about Oregon. It seemed to work. The audience was all focused on me and listening intently as I gave them the set-up. Just before the punchline I heard a few people murmur and a collective, "uh-oh" from the left side. I looked over to see the "young lady" walking to the stairway at the middle of the stage and begin climbing towards me.
The minute she hit the stage she began yelling, "You know why I'm here? To protect people like you! And you come and insult me!"
It was awful. I felt so bad. I told her she was right and that I did know why she was here, and that that was why I was here, to show her and everyone else how much that meant to me. I told her it was all in fun, and apologized again. She wouldn't have any of it. She just kept yelling and flailing her arms. Some people in the audience were yelling at her to get off stage. It was awkward. She got very heated again, and I was afraid she was going to try and hit me. I half-jokingly grabbed the mic stand and pointed it at her to hold her at bay. The audience loved it, which only made her more mad. She was pointing and yelling at me, the same things over and over. I could see she was very stressed out. I asked her if she was going to hit me and she said no. I put the mic stand down, and said "I really feel bad. I'm so sorry. Give me a hug."
Surprisingly she let me hug her, but didn't hug me back. I could feel the tension in her. While I was patting her back, the sound guy, Aaron, came up and told her to come with him. She hesitated, but went. He escorted her off the back of the stage.
I acknowledged the awkwardness of the moment, and the audience laughed. I asked, "Who's ready for more hilarity?" And they laughed at the shared tension. Someone yelled, "Go on man, don't worry about it!"
I appreciated that. I apologized again to the woman, although I didn't know where she was, and again to the audience. I then trudged back into my act. I don't know how, but it went well. They let me jump right back in as if nothing had happened. I wouldn't have thought it possible. I did fifteen more minutes and got off to a great ovation. I thanked the audience, and then the cowboys for being good sports. I introduced Jeffrey and got off stage.
The second I stepped off the back of the stage, a high-ranking officer grabbed me. Uh-oh. I thought I was in for it. Instead, he immediately apologized to me. To me! He said that the young lady had been over here awhile and had shown other recent signs of the stress. I couldn't believe he was apologizing to me. I told him that it was very nice of him to do so, but that the incident was all my fault. I had exhibited some poor judgment. We went back and forth a bit. Him trying to be a good host, and me trying to take responsibility.
Aaron, the sound guy, came up and we had a similar conversation. After the rest of the show (which finished very well), several men and women in the audience came up and told me not to worry about it. They told me that the woman was very sensitive as of late, and it wasn't my fault. That felt good, but I told them all I shouldn't have said that in any case. The other comics of course thought it was hilarious. Most of them routinely say much worse things to members of the audience. They thought it was great that I was the one who had "become controversial." Sick bastards.
In any case, this is a great example of how these shows are a little different. It's not a typical comedy club. Not just in layout or location, but in "feel" too. The tension being released at these shows is much greater than the daily grind back in The States.
If, somehow, that stressed out soldier is reading this, I am very, very sorry. I thank you for all your sacrifices, and hope you make it home safe and soon.
8 May The Dark Continent--
Wow. We actually had our first day off yesterday. No shows, but traveled all day. We took a six-hour flight on a C-130, from Kuwait to Djibouti, Africa. It wasn't too bad. Besides cargo, and the crew, we were the only ones on the plane. So we were able to stretch out and relax a bit.
Africa. Hot. And Humid. It's not as hot as Iraq and Kuwait, but it's still in the hundreds, and the humidity is over 90%. I feel like I've been licked all over by a very large animal. Not in a good way.
We did one show here at Camp Lemonier. One great show. I say great for two reasons. One, it was a great crowd, with a great turnout of about 300 people, who had a great time. Secondly, they had beer here. Great. I believe it was the great hair band Cinderella who sang, "You Don't Know What You Got 'till It's Gone." How true. There was no beer in Iraq or Kuwait, so we hadn't had any alcohol in 2 weeks. The reunion was wonderful.
Our show started at 8pm, on an outdoor deck. At showtime the temperature was 117 degrees, and humidity was 93%. It was like performing in a sauna. But fully clothed, rather than in a towel. And with a beer. We switched the order around a bit, having Chris host. It worked well and we all had good sets. We all also sweated our asses off. The lights combined with the heat were unbelievable. Chris came off stage looking like he had jumped in a pool fully clothed. I actually bought a camp T-shirt to bring onstage and wipe myself off every three seconds. I felt like Jerry Tarkanian's comedian brother.
After the show we hung out taking pictures, signing autographs and drinking beers. There is supposed to be a three-beer limit. However, the troops showed us the loopholes. Keep switching bartenders, and tip big. These men and women can use a drink. So it's nice that they aren't too strict. We had a lot of fun hanging out and drinking with the men and women here. We spent hours swapping stories, coins and t-shirts with these guys. There was definitely a different attitude on this base. They don't see a lot of action, and the beer helps them relax. Plus, they can wear civilian clothes when not on duty. It was as close to the feel of a regular club gig as we came. As entertainers we have it nowhere near as hard as the troops. Plus we've only been here two weeks. Still, it was a welcome break.
31 May-Bahrain-- Well, the tour is winding down. And, as was evident in Africa, the shows are becoming less frequent, with a bit more luxury than existed in Baghdad. We are now in the small, but modern country of Bahrain. We flew in on the 29th, and had yesterday off. No travel, no shows. It felt good to relax, but weird to be so "not busy."
We are actually staying in a very nice hotel. Each of us now has his own room. Rooms with huge beds and sitting rooms. With TV's and phones in both rooms. And a fridge. And a huge bathroom. A far cry from the tents we had been staying in for most of the last couple weeks. In fact, the bedrooms in our suites were bigger than most of the tents the troops stay in. And they sleep 8-12 to a tent.
Bahrain is home to a Navy base that has been here long before the recent trouble in the region. The buildings are actual buildings. Brick and cement. No tents, conch shells, or trailers. They have alcohol here too. As well as a bowling alley and a mini-mall with a food court.
We did one show here, in an outdoor courtyard. There were hundreds of people in attendance. A wide variety too. Navy, Army, Marines and Air Force. In addition, there were coalition troops from three other countries. There were Frenchies, Spaniards, and a big group of rowdy Canadians. The show wasn't one of our best. The courtyard was long, and many of the people in back were more focused on drinking than comedy. I'd also blame the language barrier, but the Canadians seemed to be the most confused, so maybe it was just us.
After the show a few people came up and thanked us, but nowhere near the percentage of other shows. Definitely a different response when performing for troops who aren't on the front line, starved for some entertainment and a break in the stress and monotony. We drowned our sorrows back at our hotel which had a Rock Bottom Brewery on its ground floor. Hey, the troops here aren't the only ones with options.
01 June--
Today we are traveling from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia. Before leaving, our host in Bahrain, a Jamaican man named Guy, took us to his house for an amazing Jamaican lunch. Guy, although born in Jamaica, served in the US Navy for many years, and now works for the Morale, Welfare & Recreation division of the service. We continually run into people who used to be in the service, but are now giving back somehow from the civilian side. It's good to see.
02 June Near Riyadh, Saudi Arabia--
Our last stop. We are performing for the remaining American troops in Saudi Arabia. There aren't many left in this country. Most have been pulled out. We almost thought this stop would be cancelled. While in Bahrain we saw news footage of Americans, and their camps, in Saudi being attacked. But the show must go on.
When we arrive, we learn that all other American outposts have been abandoned, since the incidents. All American servicemen and civilians have been ordered to leave their stations and come to this location, ESKAN Village. Comedy is all about timing, and we've arrived at an opportune time.
The base here is very nice. It's been here a while, but probably not much longer. We are put up in "Villas," which are basically equivalent to nice duplexes back home. This is the same type of housing that the troops are staying in. Bad timing, nice digs.
We do one show here. Outside, for maybe fifty people. It's on the deck of their pool, in between their rec center and the Baskin Robbins. Seriously. There aren't very many troops here. Only 300 regularly, and some extra because of the circumstances. Still, we thought there'd me more at the show. Especially because they usually don't get much outside entertainment here. It's very hard to get visas into Saudi, so outsiders are rare.
Despite the small turnout, the show goes OK. Not the huge bang we'd want to finish the tour on, but comedy is secondary with all the things going on in the area. We find out later that there was actually a shooting just outside the base this morning. No one was killed. Still scary. We thought we were clear of all the danger.
During the day, Chris, PJ and I tried to walk to the pool. It was very hot and we were unknowingly walking the wrong way. A very nice woman picked us up in her SUV (all the troops receive their own SUV for transportation on this base). She told us we were crazy to be walking, and that we were even crazier since we were going the wrong direction. She told us she'd take us to the pool, even though it was out of her way. Very nice. We noticed she had a bible on her console, and joked that although there might be some blasphemy, she should come to the show. She laughed and said she'd come. Well, the bible was no joke. This very nice woman, an officer, sat right up front at the show. Bob, even toned down, somehow offended her. Multiple times. Again, not how we wanted to wrap up. In the end, it was nothing, and it blew over quickly
03 June United States of America--
Home sweet home. We spent 17 hours flying home today from Saudi Arabia. We all flew to Frankfurt together. From there we split up. Rich flew home to Detroit. Chris to Seattle. PJ, Bob, Jeffrey, and I continued on to Los Angeles. The flights were long but better than I expected.
The further we flew from the Middle East, the more we decompressed. It was as if all the stress and fear of where we had been was falling away. It had never been on the surface. It had been there. In each of us. But we had suppressed it. Now, on the trans-world flight it all came to the surface. The tension. The stress. The fears and concerns. All to the surface and gone. Leaving behind only an incredible feeling of pride and accomplishment.
In L.A. we get our bags and say good-bye to each other as we did to Rich and Chris in Germany. With little fanfare and few words. What can you say after everything we've shared and saw. We know we have experienced things only a handful of people in the world ever could. In addition we've had the honor of performing for men and women who are making the greatest sacrifice of their lives. 32 shows in five countries, for men and women who are still in the danger. Some who have been there for 12 months. Some for 18 months or more. Some who are just arriving. Some are close behind us, on their way home. Some who will never come home. When you know this. When you experience this. When you share it with your peers, you don't have words to leave them with. You just hug them and nod knowingly. And you go home.
Thank you to the men and women of the United States military. As well as to all the coalition forces from around the world and the civilians who put themselves in harms way to support them. Appreciation to the people of Iraq, Kuwait, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia and Djibouti. And special thanks to my new friends PJ Walsh, Chris Alpine, Jeffrey Steele, and Bob Perkell for sharing in one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.
Here is the detailed itinerary with locations:
14 May 2004
Ali Al Salem - Kuwait
Camp Buehring, Udairi, Kuwait
15 May 2004
Flight to Balad, Iraq
LSA Anaconda
16 May 2004
LSA Anaconda
LSA Anaconda
17 May 2004
FOB Normandy
FOB Gabe
FOB Warhorse
18 May 2004
FOB Caldwell
FOB Cobra
FOB McKenzie
FOB Wilson
19 May 2004
FOB Ferrin-Huggins
FOB Cuervo
20 May 2004
FOB Cooke
FOB Trojan Horse
Victory North
21 May 2004
Victory South (51 Papa)
MWR Grand Opening
BIAP
22 May 2004
Striker Island (1st Brigade, 1st AD)
FOB Morgan (123rd MSB - 1st AD)
FOB Delta (Al Kut, Iraq - 1st AD)
23 May 2004
Flight from BIAP to Kuwait
Camp Wolverine - Kuwait
24 May 2004
Camp Patriot (Kuwait Naval Base)
Arifjan - Kuwait
25 May 2004
NAVSTAR - Kuwait
Camp Virginia - Kuwait
26 May 2004
Camp Victory - Kuwait
Camp Doha
27 May 2004
Flight from Kuwait to Djibouti
No show
28 May 2004
Camp Lemonier - Djibouti
29 May 2004
Flight from Djibouti to Bahrain
30 May 2004
No Show
31 May 2004 (Memorial Day)
NSA Bahrain
01 May 2004
Flight from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia
02 May 2004
ESKAN Village, USMTM - Saudi Arabia
03 May 2004
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