GI Blues Dull the Response to President

Sgt. Bryan Hilley has been serving up grub for the U.S. Air Force for 12 years, a job that has subjected the California cook to countless jokes about his culinary talents.

But when President Clinton tried to get a laugh Saturday at the expense of the mess hall at the air base here, Hilley and some fellow chefs said enough is enough.

“Some of you have compared life here with the Bill Murray movie ‘Groundhog Day,’ in which the same day keeps repeating itself,” Clinton told 850 GIs gathered on the tarmac. “Even the dining hall is apparently in on the act, dishing out the same food every morning and night.”

When Clinton finished speaking, Hilley pressed his way toward the front of the crowd, pumped Clinton’s hand and bluntly suggested that the president come taste his cooking before passing judgment.

“He didn’t even have breakfast here,” said Hilley, 30, from Riverside. “He was trying to get in good with the troops. We get it all the time, but for the president to bust down the cooks, it was just like: ‘What can I do now? Throw down my weapons and just say, get me out of the military?’ ”

*

Airman Erik Storoy, who snapped a photograph for Hilley of the presidential handshake, was also simmering.

“It was all in good fun, I am sure,” said Storoy, 24, a cook from New Bedford, Mass. “But it was out of line.”

Clinton was off to Zagreb, the Croatian capital, long before he could consider a dinner invitation. But the halfhearted fuss raised by the cooks over his quip spoke volumes about the mood of the more than 8,000 American troops here.

Though Bosnia-Herzegovina remains a frightening place, many of the life-and-death worries of soldiers of just a few weeks ago have been lost in the banalities--and irritations--of everyday existence in this hardship post.

What’s it all about these days in Bosnia, Mr. President? Food. Showers. Beds. Time off.

“People are cold and tired,” said Airman Charles Stewart, 23, a medic from Fayetteville, N.C. “A lot of people have to sleep in the vehicles and stuff. It is pretty mundane. Same old thing every day.”

Clinton’s talk to the troops, which was heavy on pep, gratitude and patriotism, was lauded by one pumped-up soldier as “right on time” and described as “just what I needed” by another.

“I want to stay a couple more months, now that we have the support of the people back home,” said Senior Airman Wade Cochran, 21. “He came at a time when we were really down.”

But the reaction from many other troops was polite, subdued and almost indifferent.

A lengthy pre-arrival rehearsal, which included Beach Boys tunes and a boisterous shouting match between the media entourage and soldiers, was louder than any of Clinton’s sporadic ovations.

The afternoon’s most telling pronouncement from the podium came in a joke before Clinton’s plane landed: Soldiers who do not cooperate, the announcer warned, will be sent to Bosnia.

“I fell asleep standing up,” said one sergeant after Clinton’s address. “It was a good speech, but a speech is a speech.”

Some blamed the tepid reception on the weather. Presidential dress code forbade the wearing of caps beneath requisition helmets, leaving soldiers shivering in the raw afternoon cold.

*

“I think it was very nice for him to take the time to visit us, but it is really cold out here,” said Sgt. Jesse Pearson, 29, who stood stern-faced on the tarmac huddled in his own arms.

A five-hour delay, caused by heavy morning fog, tested the patience of the entire base, which was closed to traffic and almost everything else.

One group of bored soldiers passed the time watching a Rambo movie; others fell asleep. Gen. William Nash, the American commander, sifted through an 8-inch pile of paperwork. “It was a good workday,” Nash said.

Some complained that the collection of soldiers on the tarmac, which represented a sample of units deployed in Bosnia, was such a mishmash of units that there was little of the esprit de corps typical at most important gatherings.

Many simply blamed Bosnia for sapping their enthusiasm.

“It is different conditions than if we were at our home base,” said Airman Gabriel Manning, 21, an Air Force policeman from Stayton, Ore. “It wears on you here after a while.”

Clinton, for his part, did not give up trying to draw some smiles, but his mealtime theme fell flat.

“The military promised you square meals. And when you get your eggs each morning you know the military has kept its commitment to you,” he said of the military eggs, which come in packages.

“I see you laughing about that,” he said, keeping to the script even though the audience mostly missed the cue. “And I want you to be able to laugh.”

Hilley, the Riverside cook, was among those not laughing. But he was thinking. He will mail the photograph of his handshake with Clinton to the White House for an autograph, he said, and then put it away for safekeeping.

“I don’t think he changed anything by coming here,” Hilley said. “But he is an excellent speaker.”