Sunday, August 23, 2009

War Letters: Part 21

March 15, 1991

Somewhere outside Kuwait City, Kuwait

Dear Lynda:

Howdy babe! How are you doing?

I had a pretty good day today. I actually had some fun!

I took a joy ride on a CH-46 helicopter, and it was a blast!



It was noisy as hell, and my ears rang for hours. We flew for about 25 minutes and covered a good deal of ground. We flew over a stretch of road that was lined with destroyed Iraqi tanks and vehicles of every description. The wreckage was strewn for miles and miles, and was really something to see. Our flyboys really lit their asses up!

As we flew over the battlefields, you could see how accurate our weapons are. Right next to the blasted hulk of an Iraqi truck would be a civilian house or vehicle not even touched. The streets of nearby towns were lined with apartments and other structures. Here and there would be the debris of a military target. It’s like our boys surgically removed the enemy like a cancer and left the “good guys” alone…really amazing.


Over the open desert battlefield I could see abandoned and destroyed Iraqi armor…all dug in and immobile. Their tank tactics were very poor. That’s one reason why we kicked their ass. Tanks were never meant to be dug in and used as fixed artillery pieces. Tanks have motors and wheels and treads for a reason…so they can MOVE!

Enclosed is a picture of me on a Soviet-built BP-7 assault vehicle. I am holding a portable version of the Russian AK-47 that I found inside.


Our unit has started quite a collection of captured equipment. We have a T-62 tank, four of the BP-7s, a French-built armored car, two 4-barrelled anti-aircraft guns, four or five artillery pieces, and a bunch of other smaller weapons and equipment. Most of the vehicles were driven to this spot under their own power. I was like a kid in a toy store! I was climbing all over and inside all of the vehicles, cranking the gun barrels up and down and the turrets round and round, and looking through the night sights and just generally having a whale of a time.



Our captured T-62. Note the hole in the turret!


Corporal Rutan gives me the Number One salute as I aim my anti-aircraft gun at his head!


No news about when we’re going home. Same old stuff.

I guess I’ll sign off for now.

I love you baby! See you soon.

Semper Fi.

Paul