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[Mike Soukup - 31 December 2011 email]
I came across your "lost ski areas" website via my idle
curiosity searching for websites that have to do with the now defunct
ground intercept and surveillance radar sites in Alaska.
I was stationed at Kotzebue AFS from November 1979 to July 1980. I was a
1st Lt in the Air Force at the time, and I was the Operations Officer.
Before going further, I will refer to Kotzebue AFS as "Kotz" because
that's how we usually referred to it back then. Also, what follows is
not in any organized fashion -- just a jumble of thoughts from a
confused mind! And I have lots of possibly interesting stories to
tell, but even though I would mention no names, someone reading these
who was at Kotz during my time will almost certainly know whom I would
be talking about. But I may see if I can get away with one or two.
I was sent to Kotz after spending about six months at Murphy Dome AFS
near Fairbanks. When possible, ops officers for the "outer" sites were
picked from weapon controllers assigned to either Murphy or King Salmon
AFS. The idea was to send people with some degree of experience and
knowledge of how the Alaskan NORAD Region/Alaskan Air Command radar
sites were organized and functioned. When I found out I was to be the
"chosen one" to fill the ops officer slot at Kotz I was not too happy.
Murphy was the most "civilized" site in the state. But insiders told me
Kotz was actually a well-kept secret: personnel at Kotz were not chained
to the site as we at Murphy were and the chief attraction at Kotz was
the nearby town of Kotzebue, which was a sort of wide open frontier town
at the time. Lots of bars and friendly women were in abundance, and the
town had an airport with frequent regular flights in and out.
The latter made it rather easy for a military guy to meet his DEROS
(date of estimated return from overseas, i.e., when his one year ton
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbl;ur was up) so he could head for home ASAP. But there
were a coupe of exceptions. I recall an airman we had, originally from
New Orleans. Upon leaving Kotz he was separating from the USAF, and
going to New Orleans. His DEROS arrived, his bags were packed, he had a
plane ticket on a Wien Air Alaska flight to Anchorage, and he was
super-psyched to be going home. The night before we had a big Bon Voyage
party for him at our unofficially sanctioned all-ranks club. That day, a
big winter storm blew in, and all flights were cancelled. When the storm
lifted 2 or 3 days later we practically had to peel him off the wall, he
was so strung out from emotional exhaustion (not to mention an excess
intake of alcoholic beverages), loaded him into the "Cat" (a tracked
vehicle we used in the winter to go to the town and back), and got him
to the airport.
A note here: so far as I know Kotz never had a USAF owned runway, as
implied on your webpage. The Kotzebue Airport served us very well.
I arrived at Kotz one winter's evening in November 79. A few of the guys
from the site picked me up in the Cat. The site commander, who was a
short timer with only a couple of months to go before DEROSing, met me.
He spent the next two days briefing me, but not about the site's
mission, operations, procedures, routines, etc. Instead, it was all
about his philosophy of running the site and how I needed to be very
careful to not screw up how he had set things up. Basically, he ran a
three-ring circus for his benefit and to keep the troops happy and on
his side. There were some valuable and essential items he told me that
stuck with me, fortunately. A friendly relationship between the site and
the town was always on a razor's edge. A very tiny, trivial action or
incident to me was much bigger than that to the townspeople. About 90%
of the town were (and still are I guess) native Alaskans then called
"Eskimos" (now Inupiat I think). The natives had not been treated well
by the white man in the past, and they were super sensitive to anything
that they considered an insult or offense. Back to the commander. I'll
say no more here, except that we did not like each other at all, and I
was glad to see him leave shortly afterwards.
A little before this the site got a new NCOIC/First Sergeant, MSgt Bill
Norton. He was a great guy and I learned a lot from him. Good man! I
wish someday to touch base with him again. And then we got a new Site
Commander, Maj. Don Baughan. Like Norton, I very much liked and
respected him! They made the remainder of my time there almost a
pleasure.
I settled into my job rather quickly, though I often felt I was flying a
bit blind at times. I was a rather inexperienced young officer and I had
a lot to learn. Fortunately, Baughan, Norton, and a couple other NCOs.
helped me out a lot.
In my day there were maybe 50 or 60 people total at Kotz. I heard that
in prior years the total was around 100. But the manned radar sites in
Alaska were due to soon be phased out, to be replaced by "minimally
attended radar" sites. These were to be more or less automated. So,
manning at all the sites was gradually being drawn down. Total manning
was dropping, and the support positions (dining hall, supply, radar
maintenance, facilities upkeep) that were done by military personnel had
been taken over by civilian contractors from RCA Corporation.
Operational functions (surveillance and ground controlled radar
interception, i.e., weapons controlling) were still done by military
people. Ironically, the job to be done remained almost as big as before,
but with fewer people to do it. Thus, there was not a big amount of free
time for anyone, and the guys had to schedule any time off site and
their recreation activities very carefully. In addition to us USAF guys
and RCA contractors, we had two Army officers living with us. They were
advisers to the local National Guard unit.
My recollection is that we were a pretty good group of people at Kotz. I
don't remember any serious personnel issues, bad behavior, misconduct,
etc. We got along well, and worked as a team. However, before I arrived,
one of the airmen was accused of taking advantage of an underage girl in
town (and in Alaska back then "underage" was any girl under 18, quite
strict in those days compared to other States). The townspeople wanted
to literally lynch him, the accused said he didn't do it, and it took a
bunch of higher ups in the Air Force, the State of Alaska, and town
officials to settle the matter without the airman going to jail, or
worse. The guy was still at Kotz when I showed up, and I got to know him
rather well. I have always tended to be on his side of the story. I
think he was basically "set up" by a few townfolk who did not like him.
During my stay, there were no female military personnel at Kotz, and
this was true at all the other "outer" sites. However, by ones and twos,
female officers were being assigned to the larger sites like Murphy
Dome, King Salmon, and Campion (I had served previously with a few of
them and I thought highly of them; they did excellent jobs). I did hear
that, in earlier years, a few female NCOs had been assigned at a few of
the Alaskan sites, but that was quite rare. The brass was very reluctant
to send women to any of the sites, especially the more remote ones. I'm
sure I sound like a real chauvinist today, but I had to agree with the
brass. Sending a woman or two, officer or enlisted, to these sites would
have almost certainly caused some serious morale and behavior problems.
At Kotz, though, none of the above really mattered. There were more than
a few unattached (well, usually) women, Inupiat and white, in town for
the Kotz guys to befriend. Some relationships were very short lived,
others continued for a year or until the Kotz guy rotated Stateside. A
number of the women would see a boyfriend leave, then take up with a new
guy to the site. And so on it went. I remember that more than a few of
the native girls were remarkably attractive. They looked very Asian, and
while most were short and medium build, some were quite tall and
slender. It was common to have a number of the women from town on site
with their boyfriends for a couple of days at a time. This was not a
situation the brass in Anchorage would like to come face to face with,
though everyone knew it happened. Out of sight, out of mind.
But one time they did come face to face with it during my tour. There
was a young woman nicknamed "Twiggy" who was quite a free spirit and
drank too much, and she was well known to the Kotz crew. One evening she
was with one of the guys, and she decided to go back to town later than
night. But she had too much to drink. That morning, a number of officers
and NCOs from Elmendorf flew in to perform a no-notice "white glove"
inspection. LTC Don Baughan, MSgt Bill Norton, and I escorted these
people around while they looked at whatever they wanted to look at. The
Colonel in charge of the inspection asked what a door in the hallway of
one of the enlisted airman dorms led to. Don said it was a janitor's
closet. The Colonel wanted to see inside it, so Don opened the door.
Inside was Twiggy, nearly nude, passed out, and snoring softly. I never
did learn how Don and Bill handled that during the outbriefing. I was
not invited.
Before I close out this rather long and boring email, I'll relate one
thing of local historical interest. On the road to the site from town,
near one of the airport's runway's end, was a largely intact wreckage of
an old Constellation airliner. It had crashed some years earlier at the
airport. Some local entrepreneur bought the wreckage, hauled it to near
the end of this runway (outside the city limits, where alcohol was
forbidden at the time), refurbished the inside of it, and set up a
liquor bar inside. He named it the "Flying Martini". It had been out of
business for some time when I showed up, but was a popular sight to show
tourists who came to Kotzebue. The tour bus often would drive out to our
place to show the gawkers a real Cold War military radar installation at
the ends of the Earth. The bus would stop briefly outside one of the
recreation halls where there were a lot of gallery type windows. Every
now and then, 4 or 5 of the Kotz crew would wait for the bus to show up,
stop, and then they would in unison "moon" the tourists.
Well, I'll sign off for now. If you would like more info about Kotz or
Murphy, I'll be glad to tell you more. I have some photos, buried
somewhere, that I will try to find and send to you of both sites.
Happy New Year!
Kindest regards,
Mike Soukup
P.S. As for skiing I remember only one person trying to ski at Kotz.
That was Bill Norton and he was an avid cross country skier from New
York (or wherever). He got a pair of skis and skied around the site. My
recollection is that he did this only once or twice, and was not
impressed.
[Mike Soukup - 01 January 2011 email]
After my earlier email to you, which was a disgorgement
of mindless verbage the likes of which have not been put in print
before, I want to hopefully give more info about Kotz that is of more
interest to you. There's, once again, no organization of thoughts here.
1. Skiing. During my time at Kotz I remember just one of the site
personnel trying cross country skiing - that was MSGT Bill Norton, an
experienced skier. I recall he went out a couple of times, but did not
seem too thrilled. I do not remember if he ever said why. It was
certainly not for lack of snow. Being very cold and dark may have been
factors, though. In Kotzebue the town I saw a few people on cross
country skis. It was not common. Most residents (natives and whites)
used snowshoes or snowmobiles to get around. Even dog sleds were more
common than skis. Skiing as a recreation did not seem popular.
2. Recreation. All the radar sites in Alaska had recreational activities
and facilities available to site personnel. Examples were ceramics
making, lapidary, bowling, a library, and billiards. Small gyms were
also available. When I was stationed at Murphy Dome AFS I was surprised
how many of the guys were practically addicted to making ceramic cups,
bowls, etc. I remember a sergeant at Murphy who cried when his new
coffee mug blew up in the kiln because of a hidden air pocket in the
clay. Bowling was pretty popular, too, as was basketball in the gyms.
Movies (I think we got in 5 of them per month (or week?) were, of course
popular, though the town also had a small movie theater. At Kotz,
however, the proximity of a town of 3000 people with bars, women, bigger
gyms, a Dairy Queen, a modern hotel, named the Nu Luk Vik (I think) with
a good bar, and so on was more interesting than ceramics or lapidary.
The guys had a basketball team that regularly played and scrimmaged
against various B-ball teams in town. I believe our gym had a full size
court, and the town teams often came up to play games with us. So, we
did not have to rely on the usual USAF-sanctioned recreation provided.
At the truly remote sites, it was a different story. We had it very good
compared to our sister sites, even Murphy Dome, near Fairbanks.
3. Relations with the town. The town of Kotzebue, four miles away by
road, was very important to us. In addition to the airport that we
relied heavily upon, it provided our people with a massive stress relief
valve our guys needed to keep morale up. If the town had been 40, 50, or
more miles away, then everyone would have known that we would just have
to make do with a lot less, just as at the really remote sites, and we
would have accepted it. But, at four miles, it was just too close to
ignore. Generally, relations were pretty good. We knew that for us to be
a part of the community and receive its benefits, we had to be good
neighbors, and allow the townspeople access to the site (limited of
course). The access consisted of welcoming them to our club and bar, and
the rec facilities like the gym. Many true friendships existed between
site personnel and the town folk. But we had to be very careful. About
90% of the town was native Alaskan, Inupiat people, or Eskimos as
commonly known then to outsiders. White men in the past had much
mistreated them, so many were suspicious of us, or carried "chips on
their shoulders". The officers and NCOs were always very careful to tell
us about this, so we would not unwittingly spark an ugly feud. On the
rare occasions when someone from the town got too drunk in our bar, or
was looking to start trouble, we would call the local Alaska State
Troopers to the site to calm things down and deal with the situation.
The Troopers were right out of a Jack London novel: physically big,
strong frontiersmen types, combined with intelligence and knowledge of
their environment. They had generally earned the trust of the locals,
and they were the guys carrying the "big sticks", respected (or feared)
by all. When our guys were in town, and one of them got a little too
"frisky", the other guys would lasso him in, and take him back to the
site. But I don't think this happened but rarely. I know of only one
time when the cops had to be called, but it was before my time.
4. Booze and bars. The Kotz site maintained an officially unsanctioned
lounge with a bar that served beer and liquor. Needless to say, it was
an hugely popular attraction on the site with those of us who lived and
worked there. I think we all spent more time there than was probably
good for us. We were open to the townspeople who wanted to join us. In
previous years at all the sites, most, maybe all, had official USAF All
Ranks clubs that served alcohol. The larger sites had Officers' Clubs
and NCO Clubs. By the time I got to Alaska, decreasing manning at the
sites forced these official clubs to shut down. So, the sites worked out
permissions with the brass at Elmendorf to set up unofficial lounges
where booze could be served and the folks could drink some beer, play
cards and dice, talk, whatever, when off duty. At most of the sites,
this was never any big deal. These lounges were expected to be
financially self sufficient: pay as you go. The guys at Elmendorf would
allow the supply flights to the sites to carry beer, so long as it was
prepaid. Needless to say, these lounges were not to be making profits,
either. Kotz was different, and this caused the Bosses at Elmendorf a
lot of worry, or so I was told. The Kotz bar and lounge was rather
large, and served hard liquor as well as beer. And we had civilians from
the town up drinking and interacting with us frequently. We charged
them for their drinks, just like any other bar in town would. But we
were able to charge less than the bars in town did. In town, a bottle or
can of beer cost $2.00, regardless of brand. So, a case of beer of town
cost $48.00, period. Quite expensive at the time. In our Kotz bar, I
think we charged about $1.00 per can or bottle, possibly less depending
on brand, but I do not remember exactly. So, we were a popular place to
go. What was dicey is that, although we were on federally owned land, a
military installation, we were selling to, and providing a bar for, the
civilian town folks, yet were not an official military club. We were
likely right on the edge of violating Alaska State liquor laws. Both
Alaska and the USAF turned a blind eye of sorts to this, gambling that
there would never be some incident that would cause attention to this.
In my time there, we were lucky, I suppose, that nothing happened. And I
am grateful the status quo was maintained! A side issue was that our
Kotz lounge began making a profit. We often had money left over after
buying beer, booze, and bar supplies. And the profit could be rather
big. To deal with this, the site commanders used the profits to buy
things for the site and its people for recreational purposes, an example
of which follows below. In town, the popular spot for our guys to go to
was the Nu Luk Vik Hotel, which was modern and catered to tourists to
Kotzebue. But it was also popular with the locals, and was where the
girls would go in the evenings, looking to socialize, dance, and, of
course, drink with the Kotz guys, both military and RCA contractors. The
ladies liked this, because they knew our guys were likely to be more
pleasant, peaceful, safe, and fun, than others in town. This did
occasionally cause some dissension with a few locals. Another well-known
bar was the Golden Whale, where people would go for more serious
drinking after the Hotel bar closed. It could be a risky place for our
troops to go. Before I arrived, the Commander had placed this joint "off
limits" to Kotz personnel, but the ban was lifted conditionally about
when I did show up. The place looked kinda sleazy and dangerous to me,
and I never went there but once, and just for a short while. I asked the
guys to stay away, also.
5.Satellite TV. The town of Kotzebue erected a large satellite receiver
antenna not too long before I got there that could receive commercial TV
signals from the lower 48, a pretty novel thing in 1979. After
intercepting the TV signals, the town re-radiated, at low power, these
signals so residents could receive them. I do not know the details, but
the town and the Kotz site worked out an arrangement whereby the town
directed some of the total signal towards the site. I suppose the USAF
brass at Elmendorf approved this, and managed to put up a few bucks so
that we could buy our own receiver antenna and equipment to intercept
these TV signals, and thus have live TV from the lower 48. The lounge
profits were used to help do this and wire up with cable and amplifiers
each and every room so that everyone on site could have satellite TV in
his room (if he had a TV, an uncommon commodity). In any case, several
lounges and breakrooms now had TV. I remember going to one of the
lounges with a bunch of the guys after dinner most evenings, and
watching the news from TV stations in California, Los Angeles in
particular. We would see the stories about massive traffic jams, violent
crime, scandals, politics, economic problems, problems in the Middle
East and Iran, how the Soviets were doing in their invasion of
Afghanistan, etc. We would say things like "God, I'm glad I'm not there
having to deal with that" and "this is a better place where we are", yet
afterwards some would go back to counting the days until their DEROS
when they could go back to the lower 48. But, somehow, I think many of
us were genuinely happy we were somehow not a part of this garbage, but
far away in Alaska where we had to deal with truly important stuff, such
as doing our jobs, defending the U.S., keeping the site running, keeping
an eye on the dangerous weather we might be having, would the supply
flights be able to get to us on time (bringing in more beer and goodies
for the little Base Exchange we had), fixing the water valve leak in one
of our heated storage tanks where our water for the winter was stored
(we were on serious water rationing for a week or so because of this),
and so on. I learned a few things about what was really important back
then. |
