27 years ago I distinctly remember where I was. Racing across the desert with the 24th Mechanized Infantry Division. The 24th ID was famous for going further and faster than any other unit during those few days of the ground offensive. I remember being so amped up, cranking heavy metal through my boom box. We played Narareth’s Hair of the Dog as we crossed the border between Saudi Arabia and Iraq. We were now in combat.
“Now You’re Messing With A Son Of A Bitch!” Those words never felt more apt than at that moment.
If you’ve never driven at speeds of 40-50 mph across open desert at night only using blackout lights and NVG’s then you haven’t lived life to its fullest.
The map showing the major combat unit movements. You can see how far and fast the 24th went as each arrow represents one day.
Me looking out over a fresh battle scene as we departed that area. Through the smoke you can see some recently dispatched Iraqi soldiers where we sent them to meet their 72 goats in hell.
Lastly these are a couple of pictures I took from inside one of the numerous bunkers inside of the Khamisiyah Bunker Complex. If anyone doubts the story of Chemical Weapons being in Iraq I urge you to research Khamisiyah. I still have the letter that the Department of Defense sent me telling me that I had been exposed, enough said on that.
After TPTB made the foolish decision to end combat operations after just 100 hours, my unit EOD disengaged from the 24th ID and was assigned to some Task Force in Kuwait City. It was then that we drove down the now infamous “Highway of Death”. We were tasked with cleaning up all of the unexploded munitions that covered their country. We lived and worked out of the Ministry of Education warehouse where there were boxes upon boxes of school supplies including notebooks with Saddam Hussein’s picture on the covers. The indoctrination of the Kuwaiti children had already begun. We spent the next few weeks there working sun up to sun down blowing shit up. We did go back into Iraq at one point to help blow up more shit and it was there that I got injured and MEDEVACED out. Ambulance ride to the field hospital back in Kuwait City, Blackhawk ride to the hospital at KKMC in Saudi Arabia followed by a C-141 ride to the US Army Hospital in Landstuhl Germany and finally another C-141 ride to Walter Reed in Washington DC.
I wish I had more photos but I lost quite a lot of them due to a flood years ago.
By the time I got out of the hospital and back to our base in the States I was given 3 weeks leave and by that time my unit had rotated back and we had one hell of a homecoming party. A couple weeks later my home town had a parade, I remember riding on a big old flatbed truck seeing thousands of folks cheering and waving American Flags. For reasons I still don’t know I was given the Key to the City given by the mayor along with a Proclamation that the city was mine for the day. <strong>I remember my Dad was so damn proud and that meant the world to me.</strong> To say I remember anything after that from that day would be a lie, we were bought every beverage at the VFW until they kicked us out many hours later.
Shout out to Fossten for asking me to submit this as a stand alone article, although it was a pain in the ass doing so on an iPhone ?.
So tell me Sparticles and Spartasses: Do you remember where you were on January 17th, 1991?
Please share your memories of that day in the cements.