|
|
![]() |
|||
|
This
Isn't Kansas !
Yes! It's hot! It's dry! And it's desert. I arrived in Kuwait at 1:00 a.m. on May 3 after having traveled by air for 30 hours. The flight I was on originated in San Diego. Traveling with me was RP3 Maria Hernandez, who had worked with me in the I MEF Chaplain's Office at Camp Pendleton, and RP3 Mike McIntire, who would be joining the 4th LAR unit (Light Armored Reconnaissance). We also picked up a Master Sergeant Record who was on his way to Kuwait. Our first stop of many was in Phoenix. Took on a few more passengers and flew to Baltimore/Washington International (BWI). At this point we left the domestic flights terminal and headed for the AMC terminal. AMC stands for Air Mobility Command, a chartered company that is contracted by the military. We were two hours past our scheduled departure when we finally left the United States with our next stop in Lajes Air Base on the island of Terceira, the Azores, Portugal. I grabbed a couple of postcards and mailed them off to my wife who's from the island of San Miguel. We had a wonderful visit here back in 1992 when I was stationed in Rota, Spain. Next stop was Aviana Air Base, Italy, located due east of Rome. Another postcard to my wife, and we were once again in the air. Landed in Cyprus, an island in the eastern Mediterranean just below Turkey. This was the only stop where we were not permitted to exit the plane. It was nighttime anyway with nothing to see. We were on the ground about an hour when we buttoned the plane back up and began our final leg of the trip that would bring us to Kuwait City. Once on the ground, we were met by RP1 Bob Page and Sgt Chris Gowin, all formerly from the office at Camp Pendleton. We waited three hours to receive our luggage, and when it finally arrived, it was in the back of a tractor-trailer. So a number of us jumped into the trailer and began pulling the luggage out, much of which was sea bags. My merry band of four was finally loaded into a couple of vans about 4:30 a.m. for the 45-minute drive to Camp Commando, north of Kuwait City. The highways are very nice, and the city looked very modern with high-rise corporate buildings and apartment complexes. The morning was just beginning to show first light. Once at the base it was nearly 5:30 a.m., so trying to get any sleep seemed ridiculous. I cleaned up, particularly since I had a day-and-a-half growth on my face. Couldn't report in that way! I decided to have breakfast since the chow "tent" opened at 5:30 a.m. for the first meal of the day and never stopped all day until late that night. When I finally stretched out on my bunk I was out in mere moments. It does cool down considerably at night making it comfortable enough to sleep. Well, okay! After 117 degree-days here, 90 degree nights is cool. Tonight, Monday, I had dinner with the chaplain of the British Royal Marine Commandos. The chaplain is Ron Martin, a Scot. I was immediately corrected at the table after referring to him as being Scotch. He reminded me that Scotch is an alcoholic drink. He, on the other hand, is a Scot! (I knew that!) A couple of his "lads" (Royal Marines) who had eaten dinner at our table walked back to the living area with us and I seized the opportunity to have a picture taken with them. When they heard I was a former Marine, they asked me why I was now in the Navy. This is the kind of situation I always hope for. I shared my testimony with them on how I came to faith in Christ and how he changed my life. They were quite attentive and seemed genuinely interested. I have much more to share, and I am dutifully keeping up with my journal entries. I'm thrilled to be here. But as I reflect on what I have witnessed in the past four days, I can assure you that even though I've never been there, this isn't Kansas! |