L. L. Zimmerman
The book was originally a journal or diary of our journey to Tripoli, Libya and the things we saw and did there. In those days there was no such thing as a “jet set” because jet planes were not in use, and travel to other countries was a rare event to most people. When I set out for Africa with three children in tow, it was quite an event in our family. Everyone was urging me to write it down in a journal so I wouldn’t forget anything, and I could tell them all about it when I came home. This book is the result of that journal. During the last few months of our stay in Tripoli I decided to put it into the form of a book, with chapters instead of so many dates and times, to make it easier to read. When my family got together it was difficult to get a word in edgewise every now and then, let alone telling a two-year saga.
A few years ago our children asked me to give them a copy of the book. When I reread it, I realized that the whole story was not there. I had glossed over some of the more difficult situations to keep the family from worrying if we went overseas again. I n addition to that, I had not known some of the details that were released later. I added these in the Perspective at the end of each chapter. Our children enjoyed the result, and they have been after me ever since to have it published. Since there are so few books about military service written from a wife’s viewpoint, I decided to give it a try. And here it is.
The first time I saw my name in print was when I was ten. I had written a poem about music that my teacher sent to the local newspaper, The Bristol Herald Courier, and it was printed as part of their recognition of Music Week. A couple of years later I started a weekly bulletin (one page) for the Junior Department of Sunday School. As a senior in high school, I was editor-in-chief of the school paper, and I also submitted a weekly report of school events to the city paper; it was usually printed. I majored in journalism at Sullins College in Bristol, Virginia. I married while I was still in college, but I never stopped writing. I have written numerous press releases for various organizations, as well as a number of plays that were locally produced. I have also had articles appear in The Virginia Advocate, a United Methodist magazine, and in two editions of Virginia Originals, a book published every few years by United Methodist Women of Virginia. In 1991 I took a refresher course in writing, “Writing for Fun and Profit” at the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg. In 1993-94 I wrote a series, “Flowers of the Month,” with illustrations, for a short-lived publication, Writer’s Showcase. I also did a Christmas illustration for the front and back of The Virginia Advocate, and two cover designs for editions of Virginia Originals. With the exception of a course I took in mechanical drawing World War II, I am a self-taught illustrator.
would gather in a tight knot at the top of the block and run down the street toward the old pirate castle in an attempt to break through the police guards on the next corner. But the Tripoli police succeeded in breaking up the rioters before any harm was done.
All Americans were alerted and reminded of the zoning in the base plan for the evacuation of dependents. Several families we knew moved to the base to live with friends during the trouble. I wondered if they knew something more definite than the rest of us. I kept telling myself that John was in a good position to know the true situation and surely he would take us to the base, too, if it was necessary.
Preparations for the Girl Scout Summer Program had been completed before the trouble broke, and we decided to continue with it as planned. We reasoned that we were all safer at the base than anywhere else anyway. So each day we got up early and went to Wheelus to spend the day. Jackie went, too, and stayed in the nursery. Lina continued to come to work each day, but I could lot leave our little son behind. I packed a small suitcase with a change of underwear for each of us, and a dozen diapers for Jackie. We carried it with us in case we could not return to Tripoli.
On the days we did not go to Wheelus time dragged heavily. To cover my fears and try to allay those of Patti and Peggi, I suggested we make some much-needed clothes for their walking dolls. In the tedium of making small garments I found a little release for my tense nerves. Patti’s birthday was coming soon and I decided to make each of the dolls a bride dress with all the trimmings for birthday presents for both our daughters. Sometimes I wondered where we would be on August 24. Was I doing all this sewing in vain?
The nights after the children were in bed were the worst times. John worked very late, and some nights he did not get home at all. To make matters worse, there was no telephone to let me know if he had to stay overnight. Occasionally Chuck or one of the other airmen came by to tell me he would not be coming home, but many times I waited up for him until after midnight, and went to bed not knowing. On the streets there was no laughter or signs of evening sociability. Ali was faithful to his post and he still made his acrid brew of tea and peanut shells for himself and his friends, but there was no laughter and convivial conversation. Like the other people on the street, they clustered around a radio listening intently to the speeches of various Arab leaders being broadcast from Cairo.
