A son of a military officer in Ankara, later in life
join the Air Force, and is stationed at Karamursel!
Here are the memories John recounts from both duty stations
as well as new updates 6/26/2007 and 10/26/2007

By John Tudbury

Dear Reader,
    It isn't often we get a sweeping story - ranging from setting foot in Turkey for the first time as an eight year old, son of a military diplomat, growing up speaking both English and Turkish, being able to have lifelong friends in two countries (or more), choosing the military and a military police career, and then - after getting out of the Air Force - continuing a civilian law enforcement career that includes a medal for valor! Now setting off for Iraq, John will be training new civilian police officers. This is one terrific guy; not for what he's done so much, but for adding what he is about to do: police instruction in Iraq. We'll keep you posted! For those who wish to know more about his latest adventures, read the updates at the bottom of this page.   Ed.

One more thing: John has many friends who may be aware of his latest adventure to Iraq, (see updates below) so we're certain he would appreciate an email every now and then. Use the link above to send him a note!

UPDATE FROM JOHN May 7, 2008:

Subject: Gifts for School Children in Iraq
Email dateDate: Wed, 7 May 2008 11:30:01

Hello to all;

Today, I was fortunate enough to be able to provide some joy to underprivileged children in Mosul, Iraq. With the help of my wife, Sue and great friends like Ronda Stewart, Harry and Sue Haun, Rod, Erik, Andrea Morris, Todd McLelland, Mark, William and the US Army, I was able to provide about 300 students with a touch of USA. Thanks to all of you on the home front, I had fifteen boxes of wonderful gifts to give out. I also had about 200 pair of shoes from all of you plus the Post exchange for all of the kids. Shoes are the items most needed by these kids.

This was the second time for us at Al Nahtha elementary school next to "Four West" police station. Again, the idea was to allow the Iraqi police to hand out all of the donated items. First, it gave the local police an opportunity to do some "community policing" in a land where police officers are feared. Second, it started a dialogue with the community which increases the amount of information given to the police on insurgent and criminal activity. And last but not least, it taught the police that kindness can go so much further than intimidation of the local populace.

On the list of great items we gave away, Ronda Stewart, you take top honors with the total amount of t-shirts, socks and such. We had enough clothing so no one was turned away. Sue and Harry Haun, if you had just sent toys, that would have been enough. Your dinosaur could have been raffled off to the military. They did not want to let it go. A young boy was selected by his teacher and the dean of the school as an "exceptional" child to receive "Dino". I gave up the bear, but didn't want to.... Rod, Todd and Erik. Your baby clothing was fantastic. Toys. Andrea, and all the rest of you, thank you. Toys never grow old. The faces on these children who have nothing was priceless. I went on line and purchased 150 balsam wood airplanes like we used to have as kids. They were very hard to find and are not sold in stores anymore. I located them at www.guillow.com.

I am so honored I was able to be here doing this work today. I have always said that we will win this war through the kids. I could not have done this feat without all the support from the home front. To my wife, Sue, who always seems to put up with me and my (crazy) ideas, thank you. You pulled together so many people to help out with these projects.

This is the fourth time we have done this and it just seems to get better each time. I know there are horrendous costs involved with buying and shipping items to Iraq. Again, thank you. Each and every one of you are in my thoughts and prayers. These children are worth the effort! Please enjoy the photos.

Pray for peace

John
John L. Tudbury
CPATT Advisor
FOB Diamondback
APO AE 09334

American gifts to Iraqi School

UPDATE FROM JOHN March 20, 2008:

Subject: Petra
Date: Thu, 13 Mar 2008 03:53:30

Hello all,
I am back in Erbil, Kurdistan for the next couple of days. While in Jordan I was able to get to Petra {the stunning capital of the Nabataean empire of King Aretas IV (9 B.C. to 40 A.D."}. It is located several hours by car from Amman, Jordan. As many of you may recognize, Petra was featured in the Indiana Jones movies as the place of the Holy Grail. Indiana Jones rode horseback through the canyons where I walked. The area is beautiful beyond words, and is one of the most spectacular sites in the world.

I dare say these photos do not show the explosion of colors present in the canyon walls. Although I did see lots of horses and camels for hire, I will not say if I rode or not. Certainly there are no photographic evidences of such things...(there was a weight restriction to the poor beasts).

I encourage all of you to see this wonderful world beyond our borders!

Pray for peace,
John

Petra

Petra is an archaeological site in Arabah, Aqaba Governorate, Jordan, lying on the slope of Mount Hor[1] in a basin among the mountains which form the eastern flank of Arabah (Wadi Araba), the large valley running from the Dead Sea to the Gulf of Aqaba. It is renowned for its rock-cut architecture.

Nabatean Petra Oblisk tombt	Another view of tomb	In the wadi (valley)
Saddle horse relaxes	Petra Canyon	Petra Canyon
The Siq (shaft)	The Siq	2000 year old Carving near the Treasury
Horse-drawn carriage	Visitors	Water-worn and nature-sculpted sandstone
The Treasury "Al Khazneh"	The Treasury	The Treasury
Tour group	Ancient street facades	Camel rider in the wadi
Cave tombs	Cave tombs	Rest area
Caves	Camel Ride	Caves

UPDATE FROM JOHN OCTOBER 28, 2007 (Middle East Time Zone: 11:00 a.m.Sunday 10/28/07):

Hello all:

Just arrived in Kuwait this afternoon (10 hours ahead of mountain time) at an undisclosed location. The ordeal of getting here started with a trip to the Ft. Benning airport, Larson field then finding out there was a problem with the airplane (only airplane at the airfield, I might add) and we had to stay in the terminal all night on sqeaky cots and nice, I mean really nice vintage duffle bags. I wanted to take it with me. There I was with 268 of my closest friends sleeping and mostly snoring all around me. It was a wonderful two hours of sleep which now seems to be the norm. The next afternoon the plane was finally ready for us so off we went. Tried to tell Sue the stops at the time but they were classified. I can tell you they were the same as Ken's in Newfoundland and Hungary. Lots of flight time and they would not let us off the plane in Hungary for security reasons. Arrived in Kuwait around 1100 am (one of these mornings) I think it is still Sunday. Tent city. I will try to get a picture of this hugh temporary quarters. We are staying one night then on to Baghdad. Enough for now. I really am back in the military!

John

UPDATE FROM JOHN OCTOBER 23, 2007:

As most of you know, I accepted an assignment in Iraq to teach Iraqi police officers. Currently, I am Ft. Benning, Georgia and just cleared medical and all in-processing procedures. Flight is scheduled to leave on Friday with stops enroute to Kuwait. I should be in Iraq some time next week. I was told I might be taking a position in Mosul on the Turkish border. They are expecting to utilize my Turkish language skills in that region. I just hope I don't have to translate to all 60,000 Turkish troops massing on the border!

It has been a long and stressful ordeal to get to the point of actually having to say goodbye to all my friends and family. I will miss all of you (except for Quilter and Frogley) from my BPD family. The support has been fantastic.

As for my immediate family, I will miss all of you the most (especially Harley the dog). I have a good, strong family support system with a wife, Sue, who loves me and supports the job I have always wanted to do. My mother, Dawn, has accepted that I choose to go of my own free will and without reservations. I will be doing an honorable job in a country slowly walking towards democracy. I want to take the fight to them before they bring it to American soil. Mostly, I want the Iraqi's to have the ability to stand on their own so we can get out of there and bring our troops home.

I can not or will not judge the pace of the war or the intricate details of how it is being waged. We are there as Americans and I am determined to do my part to make our efforts a success. Please do so at home as well. If you see a soldier, buy him a meal. Tell them you appreciate his or her sacrifice for their country. They are doing a difficult job but they are doing it to the best of their abilities. Support them, support me, support America. We do this in the name of freedom.

Everyone of you have a place in my heart and prayers.
John
(More updates appear following his story below).

UPDATE 6/26/2007:

For the past thirty-five years I have served my country and community as a police officer in the United States Air Force and ultimately as a civilian in the Boise, Idaho area. Choosing to serve in Iraq was not a hard decision. The only difference now as apposed to when I first joined the military is all the knowledge I gained through the years. Now, though, I feel I really have something to contribute. I am finally the teacher, not the student.

Iraq is a country with history dating back more than 3,000 years. Not too unlike Turkey, Iraq has a proud people with fierce loyalty to family and Allah. At this point in my life, freshly retired from the Boise Police department, I did not want to waste the skills and training that would be so precious in a land striving towards democracy. My whole life has been defined as trying to make a difference. Some changes are imperceptible. Some are dynamic. I have been told that we can't change 3,000 years of imbedded ideals. I don't believe that. I am going to make a difference. Education is the key to change.

In most third world countries, lack of education leads to a population swayed by ideals, corruption and even suicide bomers. Without education, a population can't make informed decisions on how to run their own lives. The Iman or cleric run their lives for them. I need to help educate these people for two reasons. First, it is the right thing to do and once on their feet, the Iraqis can make intelligent decisions for themselves. Two, we have military in country who are assigned to be there, some willingly. some not. I want to help get the Iraqis up to speed so we can all go home.

I have been told that I will leave my wife and family at home. Sacrifice is a hard pill to swallow some times. My wife is comforted by the fact that I am a highly trained police officer with good survival skills. She knows I will do the best possible job as a teacher, educator and mentor. At fifty-four years old, I should be a father figure to most of the recruits. I want to lead by example.

Most of the recruits I will be teaching are basic volunteers with no real knowledge of police tactics. I am told they are excited and eager to learn. I want to give them my knowledge and hope they use it wisely as I was able to all these years. As an example of police work in the United States, I want them to see me as a caring, confident beacon of solidarity that people trust, not fear.

Some would say I served my time and should just go play golf. I would argue that this is my time. The military and civilian police agencies were kind enough to give me great skills. Now it is my time to pay back for that knowledge. I have a window of opportunity that is, at this moment, open with viable skills that I can use to give back in a positive manner. In 1972, I was ready to serve my country when others sat back and complained about Vietnam. Now. in 2007, I am more than willing to serve my country when others sit back and complain about Iraq. We are there, like it or not. My goal is to make enough of a difference so that we can get our people out and have a friend and ally in the region. My sacrifice can't be measured because my country still needs me to toe the line and fight for what we stand for...freedom.

UPDATE 10/16/2007 - ALMOST ENROUTE TO IRAQ

I am finally through the cancellations and headed to Virginia in the morning. In a week or so, I will head to Kuwait then on to Baghdad. From there, I will begin a new career teaching young Iraqis how we do police work in a safe, humane way in the United States. Hopefully, it will help them in their quest for freedom and democracy. I intend to stay at least one year, possibly two.

I will be stationed in the 'relatively' safe Kurdistan region in north Iraq. The site has not been selected as of yet. I intend to answer all e-mails worth responding too (not Burley or Taylor smut letters) and will respond as quickly as I can depending on services available. Due to non-disclosure agreements, I will only be able to provide a look at everyday life in Iraq and hopefully put a positive spin on what is happening in the area.

I will not send 'death and destruction' pictures but you may see an occasional school being built and as much friendly culture as I can find. I suspect the people will be fascinating to see and interact with on a daily basis. We are going to be there for a very long time. I hope to shorten our military's role in the conflict by teaching as many new police as possible. It is their country and I hope I can make a small difference in their lives by setting a good example.

I consider all of you good friends and thank you in advance for your care and concern. It is important work and I accept it as a great challenge after a long and rewarding police career. I want to give back some of the knowledge I gained through my jobs and hope it does make a difference.

Thank you,
Write when you feel the need.

THE WHOLE STORY, BEGINS IN 1961...

June 1961 was the beginning of three and one half years living in Ankara, Turkey with my father, Col. John L. Tudbury, my mother, sister and twin brother, Erik. I had just turned eight years old and we were living in the Merhaba Palace while we secured off-base housing (as there was no on-base housing). I remember the new sights and sounds of living in a foreign country, so unique and different from what I had known living in Charleston, South Carolina. After about a month, we found an apartment on the outskirts of Ankara not far from the famous Ataturk's tomb.

Living off the local economy became a routine I knew well. All my friends were Turkish and at age eight I picked up the language rather quickly. I even began interpreting for my mother who would have arguments with the houseboy over how to clean the apartment. It would seem to be a comical sight: me yelling at him, on behalf of my mother, and flailing my hands to demonstrate my anger. I wasn't really angry at him, but it made my mother feel better...even though she had no idea what I was really saying. Most of the conversations were to tell him to "stay out of my mother's way and, how about that Turkish national football team!" He would supress his laughter because he actually understood my mother quite well, but insisted on making her angry by pretending not to know what she wanted.

In those days, I attended school at the old American school downtown. Each morning, my sister, brother and I would get ourselves dressed and catch the school bus outside our apartment. The school was originally located downtown and took about an hour to get to from our house. During the ride in to town, we would often shout at the local taxi drivers until one day we made one so mad he tried to get on the bus. Our Turkish driver fended him off but scolded us for having made him so angry. It seemed like a good pastime at the time.

Water in Ankara had to be treated before we could drink it, so it was a weekly event to drive to the commissary, fill up our five gallon jugs and purchase items like powdered milk. I can still remember filling the jugs, from a military water trailer. The water had the taste of chlorine in it. For years afterward, I thought whole milk tasted awful, after having grown up on the powdered variety.

There was no American television in Ankara, so we were always allowed to purchase comics. Every Saturday, I would ride the school bus to the local theater set aside for the Americans, and would watch movies and all the news highlights. As an eight year old growing up in a foreign country in the early 1960s, we didn't worry about kidnappings or problems with the local people.

The American military finally built a new American school out of town near a Turkish Army base. I thought the school was quite near our home, until I decided to walk there one day. For nearly an hour, I walked and walked while school buses drove past. By the time I arrived, I was late, filthy from the dirt roads, and I only did that once.

Since our new school was located near the Turkish army base we were in for a surprise. During our assignment in Ankara, there was a "mini" revolt which involved warring factions of the army and air forces. I had the opportunity to watch as Turkish planes bombed and strafed their own army forces! I remember looking under our beds at night to make sure an army soldier was not hiding there to avoid the fighting. During that period, we often had army soldiers patrolling outside our apartment yet, for some reason, I never felt we were in any danger at all. Also during that time, the Turks and Greeks were fighting over Cypress (again).

Growing up in Turkey and living with the Turks was a unique and rewarding experience. I learned to play soccer before I played baseball and football. We had our typical tee-ball games and pop warner football but nothing measured up to the daily soccer games with my friends. I was good at soccer, horrible at baseball and football. My one good memory of baseball was playing center field as a nine year old and catching a pop fly which was about to go over the fence for a home run. Out of the stands I could hear my dad say, "That's my boy!" It almost scared me as I didn't remember him being at most of the games, with his busy schedule.

My father worked downtown (somewhere) in procurement. He had been a pilot all of his military career while seeing action in Tripoli, Libya during WWII flying B-24's over Italy and Yugoslavia. He was later stationed at Wheelus AFB, Libya, where my brother and I were born. His assignment to Turkey marked the end of a glorious flying career and as he would have put it, "I finally had to get a real job".

To my knowledge, my mother and father never grasped a firm hold on the Turkish language. I am pretty sure the officer's wives never spoke it at bridge club, and my father never had much contact with the locals unless we did something wrong (which was often). Aside from throwing solid ice balls at passing vehicles and buses, we youngsters occupied our time harassing the local workers who made the open fields across the street from our apartment their personal bathrooms. All too often, workers would attempt to tell my father how we had thrown dirt clods at them while they were working. I insisted we only threw them while they were bent over and occupied in other matters. Not knowing the language, my father would simply ask them to go away and that it would never happen again. They didn't understand him, he didn't understand them as well. Most of the time, the workers seemed content to vent at my father. We paid for it later when my mother came home from bridge club.

Ankara, Turkey was a building block in my character which I still use today. Living there made me appreciate the things I have, and to realize there are people in this world not as fortunate as we. I was able to carry those ideas back to the United States where I shared my experiences with many children who have no idea how other peoples survive.

In all of my travels, Turkey still remains my favorite place. I was at home when I was there. The people were warm and inviting when given the chance. They would share whatever they had to make me comfortable. I only wished I could do more for them than they did for me.

I was assigned to the Karamursel Common Defense Installation (CDI) in Turkey from 1974 - 1976.

I was part of the Det 94-2 law enforcement detachment assigned to provide security for the elephant cage. During my tour, I gave indoctrinations to newly assigned personnel, "ditty boppers". I was later charged with all physical security for the base and administered security codes to open and close businesses on base.

During my time at Karamursel, I spent a great deal of time on the main gate along with our Turkish Navy counterparts. As mentioned above, having been a dependent of my father, Col. John Tudbury, in Ankara from 1961-1964, I became fluent in the language and thus popular with the Turkish guards. I did not smoke cigarettes but used my allotment of Marlboros to fend off any guards who insisted on smoking Bafras in my guard shack.

One of the most notable times during my tour was the Greek-Turkish war on Cypress, a period during which I was stationed on the Karamursel main gate, 12 hours on and 12 off, for the nearly one-month conflict. I was also tasked with counting troop movements passing the main gate. In order to get an accurate count, I enlisted the Turkish guards help, and made a game of the count. They became very good at the game and gave very accurate counts of tanks, personnel carriers and artillery moving past the post.

During the embargo, I was one of the last of the personnel to leave the mission building before it was inspected by the Turkish military. During those hectic last few days, I assisted in taking off labels for the machines so the Turks would not know what they were looking at during the inspection. It was a very sad day when the Turks made us take down the American flag.

I became somewhat notorius during that period as I had broken my hand playing basketball. My decision to paint the cast with red, white and blue and stars upset the Turks. The base commander stated I was allowed to display the cast as it was not an American flag. As the Turks left his office, he nodded his approval to me. I was later featured in the Stars and Stripes magazine, and in a photo of me hunting on base near the trailers, my cast was prominently displayed.

I noticed football photos included with one of the stories on merhabaturkey.com. I, too, played football on base and wore #89. From the picture, we had the same football uniforms and possibly were on the same team. It was the roughest season I had ever played. One particular linebacker liked to try to take your head off using a clothesline technique. I was very active in the volleyball, basketball and softball programs as well. Our base volleyball team got to play the Turkish national team and nearly won. I also got to travel with the base softball team to Inçirlik and was offered a position on the all-Turkey team to go to Spain for the European games.

I was very active in the Rod and Gun Club on base. I led many excursions for dove and wild boar hunting in the Karamursel area. With my Turkish language background, I was able to visit many places in the local countryside normally not frequented by Americans. I had two cars since my wife was also assigned to the mission. One was a Volkswagon van which could carry a surprising number of Turks to the hunting grounds. I was considered rich for having two vehicles.

I met a local businessman, Mustafa Kemal, who made tiles in his factory in Yalova where I lived for a short time before obtaining a trailer on base. Mustafa had a knack for playing tricks on the local hunters. He was well aware of my Turkish language abilities. Prior to any hunt, it was traditional to have çay and goat-stomach soup in the local tea house. Mustafa would order for me and I would sit mute while the local farmers and hunters made fun of the ugly Americans outside waiting impatiently to go hunting. Most talked confidently around me knowing I did not know what they were saying. Finally, Mustafa could bear it no longer as the din in the tea house became an uproar, and more insults were sent in the American hunters' direction. Mustafa would look at me and begin speaking in Turkish. The house would suddenly fall silent as they realized one of the Americans actually knew what they were saying. I would calm their fears by repeating - in Turkish - how silly the Americans looked, outside, and their lack of respect for tradition. We would end the game by playing the card game pişta.

As a result of my language skills, I was always asked to go with the dog handler at the front of the pack for boar hunting which is quite the honor. And when I wanted to hunt ducks during the winter months, I was allowed to use a motor off one of the small john boats at the Karamursel base's pier after the busy season, since they were no longer renting them. I used the boat for duck hunting on the man-made lake in which carp were farmed. It was located just west of the base. There was a long jetty system there with a house in the middle. Since this was all located adjacent to the Sea of Marmara, it was quite an adventure trying to navigate the small boat in rough winter seas to get to my favorite hunting spots, but it was well worth it when I arrived. Naturally, I had created a special arrangement with the gate keeper of the carp farm lake, and was the only one allowed to access the property. It merely took a carton of cigarettes, and an hour of my time drinking çay, to gain his confidence.

My time at Karamursel was magical! I spent 2½ years at Karamursel, and it was the best assignment of my Air Force career. I also spent time at Edwards Air Force Base; Clear AFS, Alaska; and Travis AFB before leaving the service.

The reason I have been looking at merhabaturkey.com lately, is because I am currently scheduled to go to Iraq as a police instructor for MPRI. I am just waiting for an opening in country.

2001: John and partner, Steve Van Doren, are awarded medals for courage

That's our man John in the center!