Happy Anniversary

My journal entries:

Day 37:
January 16, 1991
Nothing much going on.  Heard President Bush say last night that he hopes he's asleep when this shit kicks off. What a morale booster!!  We're over here laying our lives on the line, living like animals, and our CIC wants to be sleeping!  What a world we live in.  I don't want any part of it anymore.

Heard today that Gen. McFarlin went to the Postal Company today and raised holy hell with them.  Seems they hadn't even established our APO at the Port yet.  Maybe now we'll start getting our mail from home.

There are a lot of questions going around again about females.  Like how are they going to justify sending so many females over here into combat, when there is still a law prohibiting women from combat.  How will they be when they get home?  Will they get a combat patch?  Who gives a shit??  A scarp of cloth can never make up for being separated; the living conditions, the fear; all the mixed emotions I have about being here. Some people think of the stupidest things to worry about.  I'm here to do the job I signed up for.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Oh well, time to get the sand out of my weapon again.


Day 38:
January 17, 1991
Well, it's started - God help us all.  We just got woken up and told to get into MOPP Gear and take the first of our anti nerve agent pills.  We got the radio station back and heard what was going on..the first air attack sorties into Iraq.  Operation Desert Storm is what this is being called now.  I'm shaking like a leaf.  We've been building up to this for weeks now, and it's arrived, and I'm scared.  What happens now?

Day 39:
January 18, 1991
First chance I've had to write.  After stand-to yesterday, had breakfast and got sent to Battalion for detail.  We had to move two tents over 6 feet and set up two more.  Those NCOs up there set a new record: Two tents in seven hours.  There's something wrong with this picture.  The first days of war and we're moving tents?  Took our second BP pill at 1100 and had hellacious stomach cramps.  Then I had guard duty from 10-noon and 1600-1800.  At 11:00, I saw some flares which turned out to be cease fire signals for the tank range.  at 0430 this morning, the air raid sirens went off here.  Found out later about the SCUD missiles that were sent to our area.




These journal entries bring back a lot of memories.  The absolute, paralyzing fear I felt the first time I saw a SCUD missile flying overhead.  The fear of the unknown and the misery of being in that sandpit, knowing we weren't wanted there.

We females weren't wanted by anyone - not by the Saudi government, not by the wives of our fellow soldiers, and not by our fellow soldiers.  Not all were this way, but I remember hearing so many times - "why can't you act more like a Saudi woman and know your role?" The talk around Battalion that the Saudi government offered President Bush cash money to send us home.  We were there to do a job and we weren't wanted, with a few exceptions. 

The sting of betrayal lasts to this day.  This anniversary is a bittersweet one, considering my memories this past year.  And now that I'm unable to work any more because of my health, and waiting for our government to acknowledge that fact makes it harder.

I will always be proud of my service and would do it again in a heartbeat.  But there's a little part of me that is bitter for myself and the hundreds of thousands vets who will suffer for the rest of their lives for doing their duty to their country.  Veterans whose lives have been destroyed and are not acknowledged for their sacrifice.  We are not the first era to suffer from this.  I sure wish we were the last.

To all my fellow veterans out there, I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, not only for your service, but for your sacrifices that you and your family have made.