February 3, 1991
Rotting in a sandy hole somewhere near Kabrit, Saudi Arabia
Dear Lynda:
Hi baby! How are you? I’m fine.
We are suffering through a slight sandstorm right now, being made all the worse by helicopters taking off and landing right next to us. I’m in my little hooch so that I’m not getting sand blasted too much.
Cowan and I went to the top of a small hill last night near our position. We watched as the fighters and bombers hit Iraqi targets in the distance. We saw bomb and artillery flashes, and at least four large targets burning fiercely and lighting up the night sky. It’s really something to see! They bombed all night until early this morning. They are probably still bombing if the sandstorms haven’t reduced visibility too much.
I finally saw my first B-52 yesterday. Usually they are up too high to see, or flying at night. The lone B-52 I saw was just lazily circling the area at a fairly low altitude. Apparently, we aren’t too worried about Iraqi air defenses any more.
Cowan and I plan on going back up the hill tonight. We hope to borrow some night vision goggles so that we can see the light show on the border even better.
I got some mail yesterday from Tess and Mary (my sisters) detailing the pizza party for Greg’s (my brother) birthday. I hope the pizza was good.
I hear that Mom thinks I’m in Daharan, and that Dad thinks I’m going to take part in an amphibious assault. Well baby… you know I can’t tell you where I am or what I’m doing, but I can tell you that I’m not in Daharan and I’m not taking part in a beach assault.
We are in a fairly safe place with plenty of power all around us. The unit I’m with has some very high-ranking dudes, so they are definitely not going to risk them getting hurt or captured! That’s really all I can tell you. I hope it comforts you a little.
We’ve actually had a lot of slack time lately. We’ve been playing a lot of euchre, and spanking some ass doing it. Cowan and Colyer are usually my partners, and we’ve only lost once. We’ve been showing these non-Hoosiers a thing or two. It’s been fun. We’ve taught a bunch of them how to play, and they seem to like it, but they can’t beat us yet!
I finished the book I was reading. There’s nothing else I care to read laying around. I hope you sent me some stuff. I haven’t heard from you in a few days. I hope everything is OK.
I miss you more and more every day. I can’t get you off my mind. I hope you know how much I love and respect you.
If I stay busy, I’m usually OK. It’s during these slow times that I think about you and miss you and I want you so bad that I ache! It really almost hurts!
I realize there is nothing I can do to hasten our reunion, and it frustrates me. I guess I have to tough out the hard times. I’ve got no other choice. I can handle all the bullshit the Corps hands out. War, living conditions, bad weather, chow, water, head facilities, hygiene…all that ain’t shit to me. Being away from you is the worst thing about this. It’s the only thing that really sticks in my crawl!
There are several things, however, that we all like to do to keep our sanity. We like to talk about different scenarios about how this campaign will be ending in a short period of time.
For instance…the Arabs want us out of their lands by the time their religious holidays start. March, which is when the holiday of Ramadan starts, is when the Saudis and the rest of the Arab forces will be taking Kuwait City. That’s when we will be getting the hell out of here! Right!
…Hussein’s going to get assassinated and the war will be over and we can all head home. Sure!
We also like to talk about who will be the first back in the USA. We reserves feel that we will be home first, but of course, we don’t know that.
We talk about drinking beer and eating pizza, and all the wonderful things we’re going to do to our wives and girlfriends.
We talk about buying new cars, motorcycles, stereos, or anything else we’ve ever wanted and never had.
We talk about our civilian jobs, and how we’re going to take charge and finally run the business the right way.
The country boys talk about hoping to be home in time to bail hay, or put a crop in the field.
The city boys talk about cruising the streets and looking for women and hanging out with buddies.
What I do mostly is just kick back and think of you and home and being in a peaceful place where we can live our lives together. I think of our families a lot and how much I miss them.
Well baby, I’m getting kind of tired writing for now. I can’t think of much more to say to you…just that I love you and miss you and am anxious to get home.
Take care of yourself and remember me in your dreams.
Smash the cat once or twice for me.
See you soon. I love you darling! Bye.
Semper Fidelis.
Paul
Rotting in a sandy hole somewhere near Kabrit, Saudi Arabia
Dear Lynda:
Hi baby! How are you? I’m fine.
We are suffering through a slight sandstorm right now, being made all the worse by helicopters taking off and landing right next to us. I’m in my little hooch so that I’m not getting sand blasted too much.
Cowan and I went to the top of a small hill last night near our position. We watched as the fighters and bombers hit Iraqi targets in the distance. We saw bomb and artillery flashes, and at least four large targets burning fiercely and lighting up the night sky. It’s really something to see! They bombed all night until early this morning. They are probably still bombing if the sandstorms haven’t reduced visibility too much.
I finally saw my first B-52 yesterday. Usually they are up too high to see, or flying at night. The lone B-52 I saw was just lazily circling the area at a fairly low altitude. Apparently, we aren’t too worried about Iraqi air defenses any more.
Cowan and I plan on going back up the hill tonight. We hope to borrow some night vision goggles so that we can see the light show on the border even better.
I got some mail yesterday from Tess and Mary (my sisters) detailing the pizza party for Greg’s (my brother) birthday. I hope the pizza was good.
I hear that Mom thinks I’m in Daharan, and that Dad thinks I’m going to take part in an amphibious assault. Well baby… you know I can’t tell you where I am or what I’m doing, but I can tell you that I’m not in Daharan and I’m not taking part in a beach assault.
We are in a fairly safe place with plenty of power all around us. The unit I’m with has some very high-ranking dudes, so they are definitely not going to risk them getting hurt or captured! That’s really all I can tell you. I hope it comforts you a little.
We’ve actually had a lot of slack time lately. We’ve been playing a lot of euchre, and spanking some ass doing it. Cowan and Colyer are usually my partners, and we’ve only lost once. We’ve been showing these non-Hoosiers a thing or two. It’s been fun. We’ve taught a bunch of them how to play, and they seem to like it, but they can’t beat us yet!
I finished the book I was reading. There’s nothing else I care to read laying around. I hope you sent me some stuff. I haven’t heard from you in a few days. I hope everything is OK.
I miss you more and more every day. I can’t get you off my mind. I hope you know how much I love and respect you.
If I stay busy, I’m usually OK. It’s during these slow times that I think about you and miss you and I want you so bad that I ache! It really almost hurts!
I realize there is nothing I can do to hasten our reunion, and it frustrates me. I guess I have to tough out the hard times. I’ve got no other choice. I can handle all the bullshit the Corps hands out. War, living conditions, bad weather, chow, water, head facilities, hygiene…all that ain’t shit to me. Being away from you is the worst thing about this. It’s the only thing that really sticks in my crawl!
There are several things, however, that we all like to do to keep our sanity. We like to talk about different scenarios about how this campaign will be ending in a short period of time.
For instance…the Arabs want us out of their lands by the time their religious holidays start. March, which is when the holiday of Ramadan starts, is when the Saudis and the rest of the Arab forces will be taking Kuwait City. That’s when we will be getting the hell out of here! Right!
…Hussein’s going to get assassinated and the war will be over and we can all head home. Sure!
We also like to talk about who will be the first back in the USA. We reserves feel that we will be home first, but of course, we don’t know that.
We talk about drinking beer and eating pizza, and all the wonderful things we’re going to do to our wives and girlfriends.
We talk about buying new cars, motorcycles, stereos, or anything else we’ve ever wanted and never had.
We talk about our civilian jobs, and how we’re going to take charge and finally run the business the right way.
The country boys talk about hoping to be home in time to bail hay, or put a crop in the field.
The city boys talk about cruising the streets and looking for women and hanging out with buddies.
What I do mostly is just kick back and think of you and home and being in a peaceful place where we can live our lives together. I think of our families a lot and how much I miss them.
Well baby, I’m getting kind of tired writing for now. I can’t think of much more to say to you…just that I love you and miss you and am anxious to get home.
Take care of yourself and remember me in your dreams.
Smash the cat once or twice for me.
See you soon. I love you darling! Bye.
Semper Fidelis.
Paul
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