Dhahran Diary   Title: Dad Goes Off to ARAMCO DD02 Chris, as he was known to his friends, had his first passport issued in April 1944. (anon) In the spring of 1944, while parts of the world were trying to settle global differences, my father set out for Saudi Arabia. He was a mature, robust, 35-year-old machinist from Iowa, living in a trailer court in Garvey, California, with his wife, Melitza, and seven year-old-son, Rolf A. Landing a job with ARAMCO was a great boost for the family. We sold the car and moved within a block of my step-grandmother, Bozica, in Wilmington. As soon as arrangements were finalized, Dad took the train from L. A.’s Union Station and disappeared toward Miami. I remember some details of his description relating to the journey: Mom telephoned him in Miami. He was paged as Colonel Christophersen and she thought he was in the military. It was a momentary scare (one of her brothers was already KIA) but she learned it was just a precaution should Dad be captured. He would be passing near war zones on his way to help reopen the oil fields in al Hasa province. Rolf C. flew in American and British military aircraft. He went space available and got bumped a number of times along the route. Several legs were in a B-24 Liberator; I remember Dad mentioning that they were called “flying gas traps” because of gas fumes from fuel tanks in the fuselage. The first stop was San Juan, Puerto Rico; then Georgetown, Guyana; and Belem, Brazil--hardly a recognized route to the Middle East. At this point, they headed across the south Atlantic to the Ascension Islands, and back north to Accra, Ghana, his first stop on the west African coast. They cut through Nigeria by way of Maiduguri, and on to El Fasher and Khartoum, Sudan. These stops were all at British stations and airfields. Dad said that the coffee was like pale water and the meat like cardboard, when they had it. From Khartoum they flew north to Cairo. He was there for several days. A British flying boat Dad took between Cairo and Bahrain, June 1944. (rcc) Dad told the story of the Egyptian who had two black pearls to sell. He followed Dad around day in and day out trying to sell them. His asking price began at $300, but by the time Dad left, the seller, in typical fashion, had dropped the price. Dad bought them the day before heading to Baghdad. The other interesting story about Cairo involved acquisition. Street boys tried to steal fountain pens and automatic pencils with a piece of stiff cardboard. These writing tools needed to be in a breast pocket. The culprit would approach the unsuspecting mark, quickly place the cardboard beneath the pocket clips and flip the implements into the air. Several accomplices would scramble for the flying objects, catch them in mid-air, and speed off in different directions. From Cairo to Dhahran, Dad was aboard British flying boats stopping at Baghdad, Basra, and Bahrain, a British protectorate. While in Manama, Dad stayed at Government House. He made the final leg to Dhahran by ARAMCO launch. The launch docked at al Khobar pier and Dad was taken by car to his new digs. It was June 1944. Dad’s first room was in a sheep shed; that’s what the bachelors called them. These were portables with woven bamboo blankets to keep the sun’s penetrating rays off the windows. Later he moved to a bachelor pad directly across from the ball field on King’s Road. It was a corner location just across from the Bachelor Club. This was action central. He was a five-minute walk from the pool, Fiesta Room, library, movie theater, and Patio, and just a few seconds from the local and inter-district bus stop. ACCRA entered on May 25, 1944 Bahrain entry stamp One notable event graced 1945. Jerry Karen was born on January 13 while Dad was in Dhahran. After contract completion, Dad came back to California in 1946. It was a time to get to know his family again and to get on with our lives. JK and Dad spent quite a bit of time getting to know each other. They forged a grand alliance that lasted over fifty years. In the fall, we drove east to visit Dad's Iowa family. Later that year, we had a wonderful Christmas. I got my first bike, a Shelby Flyer. I thought Dad would stay home but he did not like the progress of the Richfield service station he had leased. One year and one day after leaving the field, Dad returned to ARAMCO. Little did we know at the time that Dad had lost all his housing points because he was absent from the Field for one day too many! It would be another year and a half before we followed. Manama Customs House with an ARAMCO launch tied up in the left foreground, June 1944. (rcc) Copyright ©1999-2006 Rolf A. Christophersen All Rights Reserved. Email