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Posted by Harold McArthur 1950
on 12/17/2008, 1:16 pm
63.192.130.2
In 1962 when I was 12 years old my father was stationed at Wheelus Air force base, in Tripoli Libya , North Africa . With my mother and two older sisters, we first lived off base till such time that there was available housing on base. I didn’t know it at the time but I loved living in our home. Which at one time had been one long house but was now two homes made from one, with a dividing wall to separate? Our next door neighbor on the other side was an Italian family with two children who didn’t speak English to go along with my ability to not know their language. We were able to play together as only kids can.
In one of my many adventures I pestered my dad into letting me ride my bicycle around the block. Which turned out to be a big mistake as I kept pedaling in a straight line following block after block that arranged like the spokes of a wheel, with each block several blocks long? After late afternoon turned into night I had no idea where I was. As I was the only white boy in an Arabian city. Across the street was a villa that was all lit up with lights and I could hear English being spoken, so I went across the street to talk to the persons at their front gate, to explain my predicament with much crying, they were able to contact the base and reunite me with my parents. For the rest of my time in that house that was the last time I saw my bicycle.
When some time had past we were able to move into our base house, and lo! And behold, it was another split house, where my best friend Rodney Murray lived in the other half and with my new found friends who lived on our cul-de sac, we waited with glee for the mosquito truck to come fill the air with a dense white oily fog of pretty close to pure DDT. So we could run behind the truck and be completely enveloped until our clothes and bodies were saturated. I Imagine that no self respecting mosquito would come anywhere near us.
While wandering around the base I came upon a memorial that honored a fallen World War 2 B-17 crew of the bomber “Lady be good” which crash landed out in the desert, coming back from a mission. I was wondering what happened to the wreckage after the closing of the base, did it get brought back to the United States ?
Harold McArthur
2270 Ohio. St.
Eureka, Ca. 95501
707 443 2851
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