An Army Brat in Libya Ebook cover

An Army Brat in Libya Ebook cover

To check on or download this Kindle book featured on my Amazon Author page, go to: An Army Brat in Libya book

Americans living in foreign countries, especially those in the military or other government service, tend to keep or renew their ties over the years. At least that’s been my experience with the “kids” I went to high school with at Wheelus Air Force Base just outside Tripoli, Libya, in the 1950s. And since I’ve included experiences of living in Libya in my blog, students from many classes, anywhere from the early 1950s to 1970 have gotten in touch to share their memories. We’ve all aged but the spirit of those long-ago days holds on, and there have been many reunions of these students over the years. The most recent was in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I am also enjoying the attention of many Libyans, those still in Libya and those who have moved away to other countries.

In the middle 1950s, Tripoli was a bustling, cosmopolitan city inhabited by Libyans, Italians, British, Americans and an assortment of other European and Middle Eastern nationalities. Both the British and the Americans had military bases, and international oil companies were drilling for the oil that would eventually make the country rich beginning in 1959. Libya, for the first half of the twentieth century under Italian rule, had only gained its independence in 1951, and that auspicious occasion had been marked by the renaming of a main thoroughfare, to be forever after known as 24 December Street.

Like many major events in the life of an Army brat, I wasn’t sure I wanted to uproot from the States and travel to such a strange land. I was shocked when my father received orders in 1955 to report to North Africa. We were stationed at Ft. Knox, Kentucky, at the time, and Africa couldn’t have been more distant from civilization as far as my twelve-year-old mind was concerned. Morocco was our first assigned destination, specifically the peculiarly named Nouasseur. Orders were changed when Morocco had violent political problems and a few Americans were killed. My dad was reassigned to Wheelus Air Force Base just outside Tripoli.

My Army Corps of Engineers father, a lieutenant colonel, would command a military group that had something to do with maintaining the strategic airfield, the closest large American location to Russia, an important fact in those Cold War years. He would also be traveling to mysterious places such as Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and Saudi Arabia. I still have the mink stole he bought my mother in Athens on one of his trips.

What seemed like days after leaving the Azores, but was more than likely some thirty hours later, we reached our new home. It was 9 p.m. in Tripoli, but after so many hours and so many time zones, who could tell? It was November, but there was no snow on the ground here: the weather was temperate and probably no colder than 55 degrees. Only after a good night’s sleep would we regain our land legs and clarity of hearing – the noise and vibration of prop planes had a habit of disorienting the body, which included sight and hearing, for hours.

We ended up living in the Garden City area of Tripoli, not far from the King’s Palace, from 1955 until 1958. I loved all the contrasts that life in an ancient Arab city brought–camels and sheep, British Morris Minor cars mixing with American Fords, sandstorms called Ghiblis, the museum in the old Barbary Pirate fort, the lovely beaches at Georgimpopuli and Piccolo Capri, the vegetable man shouting out his fresh food, and the braying of donkeys and camels growling at night.

I’ve been reading several books about Libya, in the 18th century and in the 20th century and will write about them in my next few blogs — Stay Tuned. For more stories about life in Libya, order my book on Amazon. While you’re on the site, check out my other books.


  1. Thanks, David, for finding my blog and making such an informative comment. I don’t blog about Tripoli and Wheelus all the time–I’ve had an interesting life as a journalist and writer/editor in Los Angeles. I comment on the Wheelus Ex-Student Association group on Facebook as well. I’ll be in touch with you.

  2. David Moore says:

    Well, this is fun to find on Facebook. I was at Wheelus AFB in 1969 when King Idris was overthrown. My job was for Armed Forces Radio and Television Service AFRTS, and did both radio and television news, including the first Moon Landing.
    We just lost a several years old website about Wheelus folks from someone in Dubui. It had more than 3,000 comments and pictures. Another group site on Facebook is Wheelus Air Base Ex-Servicemen and it has been going a couple of years. I have just tonight, since I found your site, posted some of you there, including about your Army Brat book. Look forward to reading lots more from you. Let me know how to send pictures to you.

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