Tonight’s “Buzz’s Bedtime Story” is an embarrassing tale, not for me personally but for us as Americans. Let’s call this “White House Staffers Behaving Badly.” Prepare to be outraged.
In the summer of 1997, I accompanied Bill Clinton on a European trip. One of our several stops was Denmark and meetings with the Danish Queen Margrethe II. We landed Air Force One at the airport in Copenhagen and boarded Marine One for a nighttime tour of the coast en route to Kronborg Castle (for Shakespeare, the place he used as his “Hamlet’s home”). It was a beautiful summer night, and the castle was lit spectacularly. Marine One circled at about 500 feet. We did a couple of circuits around the castle while Bill and Hillary, the doctor, Secret Service agents, and I gazed out Marine One’s windows. It was breathtaking.
After our sightseeing tour was complete, we flew directly to the Queen’s summer refuge, the Marselisborg Palace. We landed at around midnight on the castle grounds and were welcomed with open arms by the Queen and her staff. A procession of Danish military guards accompanied us to the castle. It is beautiful and historic, and yet another incredible experience seeing the world. I'd been to Denmark before as an Air Force pilot, but not like this! I made sure POTUS was down for the evening, said goodnight to the senior staff, and went to bed.
The Danes put me up in the “Scottish Military suite.” It was stunning. As an Air Force guy who was used to substandard hotels and the occasional tent, I was floored. It was a beautiful room that they’d fully stocked with a spread of meats, cheeses, breads, fruit, and a full bar. I couldn’t drink, but the options were incredible. All served, of course, with fine china and crystal. I honestly have no clue what the association was with the Danish and the Scottish military, but I wasn’t asking any questions! I called my wife to say goodnight, and she couldn’t believe I was calling from a Danish castle. She told me to never complain again.
The next morning, the Queen had a breakfast spread for the Clintons and staff. Again, everything was first class. Nothing was spared. A Danish breakfast served on fine china and crystal, served by uniformed butlers. Again, very impressive.
As we headed to the motorcade to leave for an event and the long flight home, I was pulled aside by the Danish military aide. We’d become fairly close during our short stay. “Buzz, we have a problem,” he said. “Your staff stole liquor, china, and crystal from their rooms. And took other things as well.”
I was stunned and chagrined. Talk about feeling like the ugly American. I apologized profusely and told him I’d handle it. I talked with the White House Chief of Staff, Erskine Bowles, and told him what had happened. I liked Erskine. He was previously enlisted in the Coast Guard, and we’d share war stories from time to time. Erskine just shrugged his shoulders. They didn’t work for me; they worked for him.
Ultimately, there would be no apology. Nobody would be held accountable. Nobody called on the carpet. No repayment to Denmark.
Just another day in the Clinton White House.
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