Here it is Thursday already!
Today we will visit the place where (close to anyway) Lawrence of Arabia was filmed.  Daharan, Saudi Arabia.  The time was August 7, 1991 to May 13 1992.  The event was the later part of Desert Storm.  General "Stormin' Norman" Schwarzkopf has left the theater, and Lt. General Pegonis has taken command.  The mission is "clean up".  This is the first time in history that we have removed our "articles of war" meaning ammo, vehicles, etc. from the battle ground and supply depots.  It was a huge undertaking of bringing everything back into the Port of Dammam, which is a neighboring city of Daharan, to be washed and packed up on Merchant Marine Ships to be brought back to the States.

I was sent there from Las Vegas to fill in somewhere.  I ended up in Lt. Gen. Pegonis' G6 (communications) Staff.  It was an interesting assignment as I was the NCO in Charge of the Command Mail/Message Center.  When I got there we had 83 units that we serviced—24 hours a day—7 days a week.  As a Sergeant First Class this was not a stretch for my abilities at all.  I was also assigned to be a "look out" in the Logistics Operation Center.  "What am I supposed to do there?" I asked.  "When you see more than two soldiers talking, wander over there and listen in.  IF they are talking about computers, sat. phones, copiers, land lines (regular telephones), let us know and we will send someone over."   Things went surprisingly well with all things considered.   That is until a late night watch and the LOC gets a report that Satellite communication with the Missile defense system  has gone down.  "SFC SAFFELL!  Call Dover Air Base and let them know we have a problem!"  So, as any NCO of quality would do, I looked up the number for Dover (back in the States) and called.  The Officer that answered was rather rude when I couldn't answer his questions.  I told him what I was told . . . not being a Communications guy, and he asked why "I" was calling him!  I told him I was ordered to call him and inform him of our situation and that was all I was doing.  I had no other information given to me, to which there was some remarkable language usage and he hung up!  Since we didn't have any attacks before the situation was resolved, I guess it worked out.

One morning I was asked if I would like to ride along on a Blackhawk Helicopter on a mission to Kuwait City Airbase for some radio replacements.  I jumped at the chance.  An interesting trip.  Some hundreds of feet above the ground, we were low enough to see the tank burrows that the Kuwait Army used.  Then the time came as we approached the Oil Fires.  From a bunch of guys on a ride in a helicopter, to dead seriousness, and a surreal experience, came on quickly as we started to weave our way through the black, belching smoke of the fires.  The helicopter blades actually did what they do in the movies and TV shows in those DRAMATIC moments of "whop, whop, whop" in a slow motion sound.  Devastation and destruction rained supreme.

What appears to be water is OIL.  The light sandy color is what all the sand is supposed to be.  I have taken a bunch of photos of this area of HELL but this is enough of a sample so you get the idea.

After arriving at our appointed place, and completing the task as hand we flew across the Kuwait bay to an Army outpost, at what used to be a University.  There were shrapnel shell holes throughout the building complex and outside stairways hanging in shreds from their holders.  War had been recent and close by.  

It was shortly after that trip that I ended up at Sick call and an IV transfusion of needed liquids.  It is HOT there in Saudi Arabia.  Drinking water. lots of it, is stressed continually.  I can only imagine what my brother and sister soldiers have been going through in Iraq and Afghanistan after we came home. I honor them with the highest regard that a person can give.  THEY are the true heroes of our society, yet the present Government (from the top - non-miliary portions) continue to try to undo their support lines, and muddy up their missions.  God help our country because our Administration is trying to destroy it through incompetence, lack of knowledge, lack of leadership, but most of all lack of HONOR!  

Back to the story. At this time, our unit was living a life of luxury in trailers with private 8x10 rooms (enough for a bed, a locker, and a chair), on a leveled out land fill on the Saudi Air Force Base.  We did have a pretty nice (and new) chow hall which reminded me of a Tennessee Pole Barn.  During our stay in the land fill, there were occasional black belching smoking fires as (I read about in the DAV Magazine just recently) that WE were burning our waste material of plastics, wastes of all kinds and configurations, etc) that lasted two or three days each time they did that.  I came back from Desert Storm with "the illness".  I do believe that was caused by the toxins exposed to.  Nothing is resolved, but the VA has a rating on my record...for all that is worth...a confirmation that it is a way of life for a lot of Desert Storm, and now Iraq and Afghanistan warriors as well.  Treat them with honor and respect.  

As I am looking back at this time of new experiences, it is so minor to what our Sailors, Soldiers, Marines, Air Force, Coast Guard, are going through now, but it was MY experiences and am honored to be part of their history.  My return home through Bangor, Maine was a highlight of my deployment, with the welcome home they gave us!  What a change from what my Brothers in Arms went through returning from VietNam in the 70's.

I may share some other challenges during my stay in Saudi Arabia perhaps in the future...we'll see.

The point of today's visit is this:  God is everywhere we are.  He is with us wherever we go, whatever we do.  Sometimes (a lot of times, in combat) we may ask: "Why me God?" or your surviving spouse may ask that same question. "Why did I have this happen to me?"   I have no answer other than to TRUST in the Lord.  He will will show you a way out of your sorrow.  Have FAITH that there IS a living God, in our hearts, IF we listen for those whispers of love and comfort.  Have the LOVE of God to share with others, as He does.  Being human isn't for sissies, any more than growing old is for sissies.  

Blessings

Gary