Grandpa’s War – Part 1 – Leaving on a jet plane . . .

December 14th, 1990. It had snowed in Ansbach, Germany. That was the only snow I’d see that year. We were up before the sun, getting our rooms closed out, drawing weapons, and getting our bags downstairs for transport. Buses showed up, and goodbyes were made.

We were confined to barracks the night before. Most of us ordered food in. My last meal in Germany was Spaghetti Carbonara ordered from a small Gasthaus just down the block. Dessert was a pint of Hagans-Daus Butter Pecan ice cream purchased from the shoppette downstairs.

I felt a little like a guy waiting for his own execution and enjoying his last meal. But I’m sure most everyone felt that way.

That morning, we were all issued bayonets. Now bayonets are made to go on the end of a rifle and supposedly these would fit ours. Problem was bayonet fighting training was something none of us had ever received. So actually, fixing bayonets would have left us in a world of hurt. I also made the discovery that I couldn’t get mine out of the sheath. Either it, the sheath, or something was warped, or it had rusted in there. I had a buddy grab the hilt, and I grabbed the sheath. With two, very in shape men pulling at it, the blade wouldn’t budge. I complained and was told not to worry. “You PROBABLY won’t need it.”

“Then why give it to me?” is the first thing I thought.

Needing a knife when we got down there, I purchased a cheap hunting knife from the PX at KKMC (King Khalid Military Community). I recently gave it to my Grandson.

The next morning, we had a light meal. Doughnuts and coffee if memory serves. The kitchen was already closed down. The next food we ate (after airline food) would be MREs (Meals Ready to Eat, or Meals Rejected by Ethiopia – take your choice).

I think our leaving was especially hard on the married guys and those with young children. The hardest part was that we were just a few weeks away from Christmas.

It’s unfortunate that we couldn’t pick what day we left, but that’s the way it goes for a soldier. Many of the families had celebrated Christmas weeks before.

That morning, the normally bustling Kaserne (barracks) was quiet. The field artillery guys who shared the Kaserne with us had shipped out a few days before.

By evening, except for a few folks left behind to keep an eye on things, it would be quiet there.

We boarded the buses and were driven to the airport in Nuremberg.  A Pan-Am 747 was waiting to fly us to Saudi Arabia..

It would be several hours before we boarded. Cots had been set up and many of us took advantage of that. almost everyone took and caught a quick nap or just tried to relax.

Several hours later, we were en route to Saudi Arabia. It was a party at thirty thousand feet with unlimited sodas, in flight movies, and stewardesses that looked after us. I remember watching “She Devil” with Rosanne Barr. I’d have preferred a western, but hey, it was free, and not a half bad movie. Here’s a page I put together showing pictures from that flight.

Never in my life would I have dreamed of flying into combat with movies, stewardesses, and first-class accommodations. My uncles who served in WW II got to their battlefields on crowded ships. I doubt there was even a hint of the luxury we had. I’ve seen the old movies with guys smoking and playing cards to pass the time. I’m sure most of them spent their time throwing up all the way over.

Now here I was some fifty years later, flying into combat. It was more like flying cross country for a business meeting.

Sometimes I wonder who goes to bed at night and dreams up this stuff.

The party atmosphere changed as we approached Saudi Arabia. As we turned to land, and the lights came down low, the plane quieted. I remember looking out the window and seeing the city of Dhahran spreading out in front of us.

I don’t know what I expected. I’d expected the city to be blacked out like the cities were in World War II. But not here. The place was lit up. It was like flying into Denver at night.

And I could see the runway. As I watched, several bright, star-like objects race down it and headed up into the sky. They were fighters launching. A Combat Air Patrol (CAP) was already standing by and orbiting the city.

A few minutes later, we landed. Reality slapped us in the face at that point. As we rolled past a connecting runway, I saw a F-15 sitting there with an Air Force crew around it. What caught my attention was the plane had missiles under its wings. White ones. It was loaded for combat.

We stopped a few minutes later and got out. We stood in the sand as our duffle bags were unloaded. We picked them up and waited in the early morning darkness for someone to tell us what to do next.

We’d be waiting for a while.

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