Kagnew Station.

With North Africa now in the news on a daily basis, it got me thinking of a former American base in the region.  Kagnew Station was established at Asmara, Eritrea, on the Horn of Africa in 1943.  Through the Cold War, Kagnew Station served as a key intelligence installation.  Due in large part to the extended war between Eritrea and its neighbor to the south, Ethiopia, the base was permanently closed in 1977.

Two veterans of Kagnew Station have been kind enough to share their memories of the base.

Michael Worley served at Kagnew Station in 1971-1972.   “My primary was MOS 04B2LAE [Egyptian Arabic linguist], secondary MOS was 98G [Radio Intercept Operator], ” he shared.

“…When our intelligence mission was canceled I was assigned to the Military Police for the last two months of my time there. I became a gate guard. After spending little time actually doing what the Army had spent almost two years training me to do.

“My two jobs at Kagnew had odd schedules that had me up at all hours. So I heard and saw things at all times of day and night. And I lived downtown and spoke a language that most locals did. The local languages were also part of the larger language group that includes Arabic, so I could understand some of what went on around me, especially if it involved numbers.

“If I needed to exchange dollars for Ethiopian money, one of the many street people I came to know would take me to somebody. A negotiation would ensue that I could understand perfectly. It was just numbers going back and forth until an exchange rate was settled on. Then I would be quoted a slightly more expensive rate. Every transaction has its cost, and it was their living.

“There are harder ways to scratch a living from a harsh land. During a shift at the gate at dependent [family] housing, the entire population of Asmara seemed to pass by on the street in front of the gate. One day an emaciated little girl with a sack over her tiny shoulder came down the street in a daze. She was not just small and frail; she looked hazy. I saw why as she drew nearer. A swarm of flies encircled her, partly obscuring her features. She seemed in a trance and oblivious. The flies were there because of the sack. And, to some extent, her. I’d seen this scene before from farther away, and I knew what was in that sack. Some unfortunates are so poor and so low in society that they resort to collecting other people’s feces to sell as fertilizer.

“Gate duty could also be mysterious. An attractive-sounding young lady had somehow learned the number of the phone in the guard shack. She would apparently drive by, check out the M.P. on duty, and call if she wanted. The calls were almost phone sex. She had a way of implying many things, without any graphic language at all, that made her very alluring. We never met. She successfully resisted my strongest temptations to stop by or to let me stop by. It was never clear to me from her accent whether she was Italian, Ethiopian, or something else. It didn’t fit anything I knew, just as her few mistakes in grammar or idiom gave me no clue.

“Gate duty could also be painful. It never occurred to me at first that half of a twelve-hour shift at 7,000 ft. elevation in the equatorial sun could fry you. But the gate could also be fun. Young Ethiopian guys would sometimes hang around and chat. Occasionally, they pretended to sneak into the compound, requiring me to take official action. I would reach for my sidearm and announce that I had ‘half a ninety here that says you don’t go any farther.’ ‘Half a ninety’ was a 45. Specifically, a .45 cal. Model 1911 Automatic Colt Pistol. With six rounds in the magazine.

“There was something about bullets and the number six. It came up again in sentry duty. Eritrea was in constant rebellion against Ethiopia, so we had to be vigilant. ‘Vigilant’ in this case was issuing a soldier a weapon and six rounds of ammunition, putting him in a second story garret with a view of where ‘they’ would come from. I knew nothing of this until it was my turn in the box. I contemplated the six bullets that stood between the slobbering hordes and our tiny bastion of apple pie and French fries. I concluded that someone judged six bullets to be enough for me to shoot myself in case of invasion.

“Not everything was on the gate. I was sometimes permitted to drive a huge Dodge M.P. vehicle around on patrol that took me off the station. Early one morning I came up over a little rise in the semi-darkness. My headlights illuminated dozens of people headed to work on foot. Half of them were  running in that easy, long-stride style that marathons have caused us to associate with Ethiopians.

“Eritrea is an arid region, but it does rain there. And when it does, it rains a lot. And the rain can collect in deceptively deep pools in the streets. I drove the Dodge into a very deep one and much too fast. Water came up under the hood and killed the engine, stranding me in the middle of my own little lake. My first thought was to radio for help, but I remembered that the radio only worked when the engine was running. A design flaw. My second thought was to wait. Maybe the heat of the engine would dry it out. Eventually it did.

As operations at Kagnew wound down, the Package X [liquor] store started liquidating its stock. Any serviceman could buy six cases of liquor. I bought my six and took them to my house downtown in a Fiat 124 I had rented for the purpose. I sold all six on the black market right out of my house in one transaction that day, doubling my money. I came back with friends as frontmen to get more. My living room was soon filled with cases of scotch. Sold it all and went back for more. But I hadn’t been very subtle. Even though someone else was doing the buying, the ruse was pretty transparent. The sergeant in charge of the store told me not to come back.

“No need to come back. I had more Ethiopian money than I could normally spend in my remaining time. I’d only be able to change a small amount to American dollars on departure, so I resolved to spend it. I kept the rented Fiat and started touring the city and countryside, going as far south as Axum, the historical capital of Ethiopia and the location of kingly residences and ornate churches. Officially, such travel was discouraged if not outright prohibited. After all, the province was in rebellion. But Ethiopians took me for Italian in my locally-made sweater. And Americans didn’t normally do what I was doing.

“Stops in Axum and towns along the way attracted a lot of attention. From everywhere a dozen little boys would appear yelling ‘guardia, guardia.’I took this to be Italian for ‘guard.’ I knew if for what it was. Extortion. Protection money. For a dollar, a kid ‘guards’ your car. If you don’t pay the dollar, the kid screws with your car. Another of those small transaction costs that grease things.

“It was on one of these outings that I saw one of the most amazing things I think I’ve ever seen. A very little boy was herding some very large water buffalo down a path. The lead buffalo wasn’t turning where he should, and the boy was too small to make it turn. He reached into some tall grass and pulled up a handful, dirt clod still attached, and commenced to frantically beat the buffalo on the side of its head. The buffalo appeared not to notice. But it turned.

“Haile Selassie came to Kagnew once while I was there. He made annual visits for medical and dental check-ups. I was now driving to work in the 124, but I was unaware of his visit. Near the post, crowds and police kept me from going any farther. I was directed to stay where I was while the Emperor’s limousine passed. It did, and the Emperor was throwing handfuls of coins from the open car. Policemen chased back anyone who tried to pick up any of that money until the Emperor had passed. He shouldn’t have that satisfaction of seeing anyone pick up his money. Haile Selassie was not well-liked in Eritrea, which was, after all, in rebellion against him.

“The time finally came for me to leave. In processing out I guess I revealed that my mind had never been totally in the Army. When I had received all my official documents, there was no discharge in there. I asked why. ‘Because you’re not discharged, just separated from active service. You have a six year commitment, which leaves . . . let’s see . . . about three years and three months.’ Oh.”

Lee Leatherman served at Kagnew Station

Lee Leatherman served with the Army Security Agency (ASA).  He trained at Fort Devins, Massachusetts, then reported to Kagnew Station in the early 1960s, for an eighteen-month tour of duty.  He would work as a “high-speed op,” tasked with intercepting transmissions throughout the region.  “I listened in all over the Middle East and Africa,” he shared.  “These different groups and countries weren’t necessarily our closest allies.  …The messages were in encrypted Morse code.  …I listened and then translated it in my head, typing the words out on paper.  It then went to our code breakers and from there, to our interpreters because it was always in a foreign tongue.

“That circuit was so fast and full.  Solid tone to the average ear is fifty-five words a minute and I’m continuously banging along at thirty-five.  It was a steady grind, grind, grind, one message after another with no breaks.  By the end of each day, my arms were so tired, I could barely lift them and my mind was just gone.  …I held up real well the first year, but that last six months I began to mentally slip.  I left there with a letter of high achievement, but I was sick.

“My next assignment was Ft. Bragg.  ASA had an attachment to the 82nd Airborne. I trained as a paratrooper, but my mind continued to deteriorate.  I couldn’t figure out what was happening to me.  After while, they realized I was in trouble and sent me to the hospital.  They put me on nerve medicine, but that didn’t work for what I had—a mental disorder.  …They sent me back to Bragg just in time to pick up my gear and go home.  …I was discharged on July 24, 1962 from Valley Forge General Hospital, Pennsylvania.

“They sent me to the VA Hospital in Marion.  …The doctors there finally discovered that I had a chemical deficiency in my brain.  Maybe I’ve had it all my life, I don’t know.  …They figured it had been severely aggravated by the continuous mental strain of eighteen straight months as a high-speed op.  …I spent a year and a half there.  … I may not be totally sane, but who is?”

Today, the base at Kagnew Station is a housing development.  If you weren’t aware of it, you would never guess the place once served a vital function in the Cold War.  Many thanks to Michael Worley and Lee Leatherman for sharing their memories of Kagnew Station.

6 Responses to “Kagnew Station”

  1. loyd shelton says:

    I was a kagnew in1963 and 1964.pictures bring back a lot of memories. I was in operations company and worked at tract C

  2. Doe Beadle says:

    I just happened on this while browsing for information on Asmara. I was born at Kagnew in 1953. My father was in the army there and I have always been curious about where exactly, in or around Asmara, is Kagnew. Oddly enough by happenstance, I have met one other person born there, in the small town outside of Louisville, KY where I live. This article was great and I would love to hear more.

  3. Sandy McLachlan says:

    In the mid 60s we spent 2 years in Asmara as family members. We lived only 3 blocks from the back gate. I loved every minute of “our” tour. Early every mourning cattle were herded down our street. There was also a poor (most of the country is/was poor) nearly blind begger who stopped at the gate weekly and I would give him food or money. On day I was on my way out of the gate as he arrived. He got down on his knees and kissed my feet. That was a humbeling experience I will never forget.
    We were there to see Haili and the Shah and Empress of Iran when the flew in to visit Kagnew.
    I wouldn’t have minded extending for another tour but the schooling for our daughter was more important.

  4. Clark Hill says:

    I am not sure how many of the former Kagnew vets fully understand that the U S Navy remained at Kagnew until April of 1977.
    I was the next to last OIC of Kagnew and the last contract manager.
    We lost members of our team to land mines and kidnappings. Looking back it appears to me to be the early start of what is still going on in the world.

  5. Al Monis says:

    This is a very welcomed surprise. I too was stationed at kagnew station in the early 60′s right after the missile crisis. We were the first 22 individuals in or out of kagnew since the crisis began. At this time we had shifty activity, Eritrea dissidents, which were in the Axum area and had attacked a group of Americans who were out hunting. I was there for 22 months after an extension as in those days you could extend to 90 days prior to your ets and be discharged.
    I can see myself going down the 22 switch backs to the flats going to Missawa, the sea port where I spent many off duty days.
    There was a American hotel there that was used as an I&R for the Americans with the only air conditioning being in the bar area. We troops spent many hours there in the summer time preparing for the night activity. Thank you for this trip back to my first overseas assignment and bring back those old, but glorious memories

  6. Jim Higgins says:

    Thanks for these amazing memories. I was a ASA 32G at Kagnew from ~69-70, Tract C. Loved the motorcycle off road riding, motorcycle trips to Axum, Massawa, Keren, downtown, the smell of roasting coffe that hung over the city in the morning, Sophie header-queen (Woops!), the $1.25 filet meals (with iced tea always) at the Oasis, even played in a rock band there a few times. Some of the best memories of my life. From the recollections of others I see I’m not alone. My best to Dave Hess, Commander Cupp, Grip, Johnny, Ardith, Fish (deceased), Woody, George Spoonmore (deceased), Gary Gushee, John Kelch, whom I’m still in touch with. What memories.

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