Back in the early 1980s, a buddy of mine who was “connected” started telling stories out of school. Stories about nukes being hijacked by terrorists, tales of bombs already sighted in American cities, hints about the existence of a “fifth column” of terrorists who infiltrated through our porous Southern border. I did what checking I could and began to become nervous—very nervous.
The temperature was starting to drop as I spotted my makeshift rock shelter on the side of the Sultanagac Dagi Mountain of north central Turkey. This nasty mountain area was going to be the site of our weeklong survival training exercise with Turkish troops. It wasn’t my idea to be there.