Tonight’s “Buzz’s Bedtime Stories” is titled “Goats, Blood, and War.” It’s just another glimpse into military service, interesting travels, and my life. Get your globe out, put on your cozy snuggies, and grab a beverage. Here we go:
When I was a really young C-141 pilot and aircraft commander, I often flew US Embassy support trips around Africa. Mostly, we flew diplomats, Marines, highly secret classified correspondence, and fun treats like American groceries, whiskey, and steaks for our embassies. They enjoyed a taste of home and we were happy to deliver it. It was always an interesting trip, to say the least.
On this particular mission, we flew from Charleston AFB, South Carolina, to Bermuda, then on to Dakar, Senegal; Monrovia, Liberia; Kinshasa, Zaire; and N’Djamena, Chad. Then, back to the US. It was a busy mission but it was fun.
During a long first day, after Bermuda and Senegal, we transited Monrovia, Liberia, to deplane our passengers, offload, get some gas, and grab a bite. [In my next piece, I’ll tell the story of the “monkey burgers” we ate at the airport. It’s a doozy. In case you missed my last piece, you can find it here.]
2006: The last operational C-141 Starlifter (Tail No. 66-0177) from the 445th Airlift Wing (AFRC) at Wright-Patterson AFB landed at Wright Field, Ohio, for donation to the National Museum of the USAF. pic.twitter.com/D9aQrbaXhd
— Air Force Historical Foundation (@AFHF) May 6, 2024
Once airborne again, we headed to Kinshasa, Zaire, for some crew rest.
In Kinshasa, we always stayed in the American Embassy for security reasons. That night my copilot and I headed out for dinner. It was a pretty night, smoky and poorly lit, so we kept our heads on swivels. We headed directly across the street to a restaurant that embassy staff recommended. It was actually a delicious meal. I remember it being some sort of pastry filled with vegetables and some incredible hot sauce. It was fantastic. I’d kill for that hot sauce.
Feeling slightly emboldened and hopped up on hot sauce perhaps, we decided to head up the street for a beer. The embassy Marine guards directed us to a “disco” nearby where we could get a drink. As we walked on the sidewalk up the hill, we passed an old witch doctor, with long white dreads, who was burning sticks and mumbling, right outside the Embassy. The bar was only a few blocks away and we walked in. Two American white dudes walking into a bar in Kinshasa, Zaire. It was actually pretty funny. We looked at each other, laughed, and bellied up.
We had our beer, engaged in some amazing people watching, thanked our bartender (who thankfully spoke English), and headed back down the hill.
READ MORE: Buzz's Bedtime Stories: That Time I Diverted Air Force One
Buzz's Bedtime Stories: Understanding the Air Force Airlift Community
The next morning, the USAF called me early and asked us to fly a plane full of Zairean military troops to N’Djamena, Chad. Libya, under Muammar Gaddafi, had attacked Chad, and Zaire had pledged their support to their ally. It was not on our original itinerary, but the State Department asked us to intervene. They were hell-bent on repelling Gaddafi. “OK,” I said. “Let’s go.” (Honestly, at the time, I had no idea where Chad was.)
We loaded up the Zairean troops and, unbeknownst to me, the aircraft commander, they decided to sacrifice a goat on my aircraft. My loadmaster called from the back and said, “Sir, you need to come back and see this. You’re not going to believe it.” On the back ramp where the troops boarded along with pallets of cargo, they killed the goat and tossed it, blood and all, on top of a pallet of their food. Some sort of spiritual ritual that guarantees them a safe flight.
My loadmasters were visibly upset and I totally got it. I pulled them aside and said, “Oh well, I guess we’re going with it. I can’t imagine telling 180 Zairean military dudes they can’t go to war.” They laughed.
We flew them to Chad, deplaned them, and headed back on the long flight home to Charleston. Chad is a God-forsaken wasteland of people and sand. It was another super long day but we loved it! When we landed back at our home base, the U.S. Customs & Agriculture guys met us as they always did for international flights. They walked to the back of the aircraft. We had goat blood, flour, and Zairean Army urine all over our aircraft. They looked at me with dropped jaws. I shrugged my shoulders. “Hey man, we just flew home from a war in Chad.” They impounded the plane and called for the fire trucks to come hose the jet out. There was no other way.
I walked to my car in the squadron parking lot and I drove home. Wasn’t my deal. Just another day flying the line and living the dream!
