Sunday, June 14, 2009

War Letters: Part 5

January 9, 1991

Somewhere in the desert, Saudi Arabia

Dear Lynda:

Hello babe from the great desert of “Saudee Raybee.” I’m writing this in the dark with a red flashlight, so my writing will look a lot worse than it usually does.

We’re on our third day in the field. We’ll probably stay here one more day and then move up even further north. It hasn’t been too bad yet. We’ve been working hard, and the food really sucks. For breakfast this morning, I had a spoonful of rice, three pieces of bread, a little carton of milk, and apple juice. Luckily, I had parts of an MRE leftover to make me feel full. The chow’s really the only thing I’ve had to bitch about…so far!

The weather has been fairly warm during the day, and pretty cold at night. It even frosts a little.

Right now I’m sleeping on a cot outside the tent because it’s too crowded inside.

It’s supposed to be the rainy season here. It rains for about a minute in the morning and evening…not much to bother with.

I think of you often, and wonder what you’re doing.

My watch has two clocks on it. I keep the digital clock on Indiana time so I can look at it and think about when you are working, sleeping, or whatever. It kind of keeps me sane. I have to check my watch calendar every now and then so I can find out what day it is. All the days run together, so they all seem the same. We don’t get any days off.

Jim Cowan said he talked to Stacy the other day. I hope you don’t think I’m gaffing you off by not calling or writing you much. Since Jim got promoted, he’s got just a little more time to do such things. I’m pretty busy baby-sitting the troops. Sometimes it’s like they can’t even take a shit without being told how to do it!

I hope my first letter from Saudi didn’t upset you or worry you too much. I wanted to tell you what’s been going on. You may not want to tell the people at the support group some of the things I told you. I don’t know. If you think it’s better not to worry them more, don’t tell ‘em nuthin’!

But, here’s another bummer story. It doesn’t involve me, or anyone from Indy…

On the day we left the main camp for the north, they issued us all ammunition. A Marine from another unit shot himself in the head with his pistol…right down the road from our barracks. As far as was reported, he didn’t die. I guess he had a family too. It was a depressing thing to hear about. The poor dumb bastard couldn’t handle the stress, and his leadership didn’t see the signs of someone about the break.

Please wish my dad and my brother a happy birthday. I’m afraid I can’t find a card to send out here!

I hope I’m home soon, babe. I love you with all my heart and my big toe too!

Beat up Boo Vomitus for me and tell all hello and that I’m doing fine. I haven’t received any mail yet, but it takes 14-20 days to get here sometimes, so keep them coming. I love you very much. See you soon!

Semper Fi!



P.S. – Tell Dad that I’m carrying over 200 rounds of real ammo, so I’m not a sitting duck! We weren’t supposed to get that much, but Cowan took it when their backs were turned! What a guy!


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