Art Work done by Sgt. John Wheery

We guarded the Dew Drop in for just a few days, Soon enough, word came that we were moving out. We didn’t have a clue where we were headed. All we had was the LT with a list of directions. He had a map and orders to watch for a wrecked tanker truck on the side of the road.

We were moving inland. We left early in the morning, well before sunrise. We drove most of the day to arrive at TAA (Tactical Assembly Area) Thompson. this was a large, spread-out area near a small Arab town.

I thought I’d seen the middle of nowhere before.

I was wrong.

On 22 December, we officially arrived at the aforementioned middle of nowhere. I was surprised to find we had a zip code.

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We move out and then officially arrive. If you look at the bottom picture, and in the circle, you’ll see a few bumps. That was our base, a series of tents that we’d live in for the next few months.

When we arrived at Thompson, a few miles outside the town of Al Qaisumah, we found 501st MPs was assigned to a small cluster of large tents. Each tent housed a platoon and associated gear. A slightly smaller tent housed the headquarters (Supply, CQ, Captain and 1st Sgt, that kind of stuff).

Early morning Our home away from home. If you look to the right of the picture, you can see our showers, bathrooms and etc.

We had latrines that reminded me of the old Two-Holers that our great grandparents enjoyed. Only we did our business into cut down 50 Gallon drums. Everyday these had to be emptied and the contents burnt. Trust me. It’s a task that is about as disgusting as it sounds. And there wasn’t enough fuel in the world to burn that stuff wet!

The good news was we had an adequate supply of TP. But it sure wasn’t Charmin, Northern, or even Walmart two ply cheap. In a pinch, this stuff could be used for sandpaper (slight exaggeration, but not by much). TP seemed to be the only thing there wasn’t a shortage of. As a result, we used it to mark things, write on, you name it.

We also had relief tubes which were nothing more than PVC pipe buried in the sand at an angle. The idea was you relieved yourself (works only for male soldiers), and your urine ran down into the sand. The folks back home thought those looked pretty cool. What most folks don’t realize is they began to stink after a while. They stank so bad, we even bought bleach and the Arab take on Pine-Sol. We poured it down them to try to make them smell better. If anything, they smelled worse afterwards.

Then we had the burn pit. We burnt stuff on a daily basis and no matter where you were, the smoke seemed to follow. The wind could be blowing north. You’re south of the burn pit, and the smoke would still blow into your tent. I remember someone said smoke follows beauty. I guess that’s what we all got for being so damn good looking!

It’s safe to say that within weeks our tidy little camp smelled like the county dump on a summer day. Toss in a backed-up sewer and you get the idea nicely.

This place would be home for almost three months.

Previous – A Mission Next – Christmas at Thompson


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