Sunday, June 14, 2009

War Letters: Part 7



January 24, 1991

In the middle of the desert near Kabrit, Saudi Arabia

Dear Lynda:

Hello again and greetings from the combat zone!

How’s things back in Hoosierland?

We’re all still fine…nothing bad to report. The weather has cleared and allowed the planes to continue the bombing missions. We are told that the Iraqis are really getting their asses thumped.

The last two days have been pretty good. It didn’t rain yesterday, and today was a beautiful sunny day. I took a shower yesterday and felt like a new man. I may take one tomorrow.

A few days ago there was a black haze in the air from the oil wells and pipe lines that the Iraqis set afire. I guess the fires are out now because the smoke’s gone and so is the smell of burning crude oil.

I received Mom and Dad’s package two days ago and got yours and three letters today. The pictures were nice. Cowan and I commented that we’d love to have the chow pictured in our Christmas Feast photo. Yes… the food is still sucking here!

We’ve all got a year’s supply of instant coffee now, and a good supply of smokes. We really appreciate the packages! Did I tell you that I’d like to have a portable short-wave radio? See what you can do. Is my money getting to our account OK? Let me know.

A funny thing happened yesterday. The chow here has been giving us all (except me) gas and the runs. Anyway…we were all sitting around and bullshitting. Cowan was telling a good story…and farting a lot. Right in the middle of his story, he stops mid-sentence and a look of complete horror comes over his face. I figured he saw a SCUD (or “STUD” as Keith Colyer puts it) missile coming right at us.

He stands up and bitches, and announces to us all that he has just shit his trousers! Of course, we all damn near Hersheyed our knickers from laughing so hard!

Pretty soon, the entire camp was aware of Jim’s predicament. He waddled over to the shitter to cut off his soiled grundies…to the hoots and hollers of our guys! Just prior to Jim’s trouser chili experience, he had taken a shower. We all got a good laugh.

Another funny thing happened today. You remember Scott Lautner…my roommate at Camp Lejeune? Well…he came over to our camp to use our shower facilities. As he was in the stall merrily scrubbing his “nasty ass,” the SCUD missile siren sounded. We all dropped what we were doing and headed asshole over belly button into the holes. Scott was just a-bitchin’ as he grabbed his trash and headed for the hole. When the all-clear was sounded, there he was…all soapy and wet, a towel around his waist, flack jacket, boots, and helmet on, with his rifle!

It was the funniest god damned thing I’d seen in a while!

Somebody took pictures of him. It should be great!

Well, baby…as you can see, we can have good days around here. Decent weather, not much to do, and nobody fucking with us! War’s not always hell, I guess.

I think I’ll go kick around in the sand and hit the rack now. I’ve been trying to call you and my folks, but I can’t get a line. I’ll try again later. Jim says “Hi.”

Write you later.

I love you.

Semper Fi!

Paul

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