The first week of our deployement to what was soon to be called "Operation DESERT SHIELD" was challenging to say the least. It was also hectic, chaotic, scary, and thrilling at the same time. Everyone who was there knew that this was no training exercise, that this was the real thing, and that our lives depended on how we did our jobs. There was a real "no shit" attitude in the US compound, and it showed everywhere we went.
The first thing the Wing Commander did was suspend all military customs and courtesies compound-wide, which meant no saluting. The next thing he did was inform the wing that the #1 priority was to remain hydrated, cool, and healthy, so the enforcement of uniform regulations was suspended. Everyone who was out in the sun was walking around in a t-shirt, boonie hat, and a green triangular bandage rolled into a tube wrapped around their necks to use as a neckerchief and sweat rag. (These were called "Ranger rags," don't ask me why.) And of course everyone who wasn't a Security Policeman had a litre bottle of water sticking out of the cargo pockets of their pants. If you were an SP you were wearing your web gear, which included two one-quart canteens which we always kept full.
And everyone - and I mean EVERYONE - had their gas masks with them at all times. Every single person there had the green canvas carrying bag strapped around their waist with the bag containing the gas mask hanging on their side. One of the very first briefings we had the day after our arrival was the threat briefing from the OSI, and in that briefing we were told that that chance of a ground attack was "minimal," but that the threat of an air attack - namely a SCUD missle attack - was "high."
And the threat that those missles would be topped with chemical or biological munitions was "likely." Not "high," not "probable," but "likely." Our gas masks became our best friends, right along with our chemical suits and our weapons.
The day after we arrived the fighters began running combat air patrols all the way to the Kuwaiti border, and the Security Police began the gigantic task of providing security for a base that was approximately 60 square miles in size. Our little band of 125 troops was divided up into three sectors, "A" Sector, "B" Sector, and "C" Sector with a Headquarters detachment at Wing Headquarters running the show. "A" Sector was the dispersal/parking area for the fighter aircraft, "B" Sector was the flightline and surrounding area, and "C" Sector was the main base. I was assigned to "C" Sector eventually, but it took a few days for this to happen so in the mean time I found myself either on the flightline or out in the dispersal area.
Almost as soon as we hit the ground our commander, LtCol Allen Pack (affectionately known as "WAMBO" for reasons I'll explain later) started screaming for more troops. And at that point in time he was right - we were stretched thin to the breaking point, and everyone knew that if Saddam decided to take a right turn and march into Saudi Arabia, there was absolutely nothing that could stop him. Surely not the Saudi military - the day that Kuwait had been invaded, 52% of the Saudi pilots went to the medic and claimed to have a cold, which meant that they couldn't fly - and couldn't be sent up to fight the Iraqi Air Force if they decided to come into Saudi Arabia.
Needless to say, we didn't have much respect for the Saudis and their abilities, and that little bit of respect we had would soon vanish entirely. More on that later.
In the mean time we had a hell of a lot of troops on the ground, and we were operating on only the supplies we had brought over with us. The rest of the support mechanism was en route from the states, but it would take a few days to catch up to us. One of the things I learned about combat deployments like this is that for the first 30 days of the deployment you can get whatever you need simply by asking for it, but after 30 days or so the system and paperwork will be in place and you won't be able to get shit. For example, the second day we were there I went over to the Supply section to pick up a case of MREs for my people, and the supply sergeant there gave me three "just to make sure." Two months later I went in for the same thing and got exactly what I asked for and no more - AFTER the required paperwork had been completed, of course.
We were also faced with some other challenges that you never would have thought about had you not been in our situation - like where to find drinkable water. Anyone who has ever travelled overseas knows not to drink the water, and Saudi Arabia was no different let me tell you. But the Civil Engineers managed to find one location on the base where the water was OK, so every time we needed to fill up our canteens or the "jerry" cans in the Hummers, we'd head there. The location, as it turned out, was the base Ice House - kinda logical if you ask me.
After a few days we turned our attention towards finding a Class A telephone - that is, a telephone from which you could make calls outside of Saudi Arabia. Remember, now, this is in the days B.C.P., so finding a Class A phone was a big deal. And we found one - in the Base Billetting Office.
Before we got there, the US Army had a small training detachment at Dhahran Air Base. The United States Military Training Mission to Saudi Arabia, or USMTM, had its own compound with a Base Exchange, Dining Hall, Billetting Office, and Housing Area. The USMTM compound was small, but it had several things we needed and took advantage of until the Army put the area off limits to us. We used the phone as often as we could, and that was the first thing to go off limits.
Next to go off limits were the washing machines and dryers in the Billetting Office. For the first few days we were there we were washing our clothes in the showers, and then someone found the washers and dryers in the Billetting Office. After a few days of not being able to get to them because the deployed troops were using them, the Army not only put them off limits but locked the doors to the laundry rooms so only guests could get to them. So we went back to washing clothes in the shower until we found other facilities.
Then there was the Base Exchange, a very small store designed and outfitted to support the 90 man USMTM detachment. Next thing you knew the entire wing was using it, and it quickly sold out of everything. The military got supplies to it pretty quickly, and the people there did an admirable job of keeping up with demand.
So little by little the Wing was settling in. The combat operations smoothed out, the Civil Engineers began construction on a Tent City so the majority of the wing could move out of the square buildings we took over as soon as we got there, and thankfully our supply system started working and giving us the things we needed - like our vehicles. About a month after we got there our vehicles finally showed up, 4 Hummers in camouflage green paint which stuck out like a sore thumb in the desert environment. Shortly after that they gave us access to the WRM (War Reserve Material) lot, and we had all of the desert pink-painted Hummers, trucks, and Deuce and a halfs we needed. Life was getting a bit easier for us, just a bit, but there were still some logistical issues to work out. But it was coming along bit by bit.
And in the back of our minds was the knowledge that we were still in harm's way, that the attack could come at any time, and if it did we would very quickly be overrun.
But we soldiered on.
IHC
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