My memory is that it clashed with arrangements for me getting married and for a few days (at least) there was some doubt as to whether it would mean me having to change the dates for the wedding or the US/UK et al delay the dates for military action against Saddam Hussein
Somewhat glad that my sudden pier-head jump meant I avoided having the special shots because they would have affected my 'performance' for up to three days on arrival. As I frog-leaped up the Gulf from lilly-pad to lilly pad, I'll never forget sitting in the back of a Sea King, rotors running on ENGADINE's flight deck, as one consignment of potatoes was offloaded and an identical-looking consignment of potatoes was loaded in its place. The Pusser (not to mention its spuds) moves in mysterious ways sometimes.
I'm saving the rest of my dits for the book. :winkrazz:
Tabbing round Al Jubail in the bloody scorching heat.
Sand. Everywhere. It took months to get rid of the stuff.
Checking the ground for snakes and scorpions before having a dump.
The cold at night.
Coming across some Bedouin in the middle of nowhere and swapping some cans of pepsi for a wristwatch.
Flying around in Chinooks to get to the front.
The bloody rain when it came, and the sleet that accompanied it.
Waiting for H hour and nearly smoking myself to death.
Watching the MLRS. It is one of the most amazing things i've ever seen. The destruction as well. Shocking
Having to drive hatches up as the enemy tanks on fire interfered with the night vision. Hearing small arms pinging off by your head was not as scary as the shock waves from the artillery shells.
The smell of a battlefield.
Hunting down those packs of feral ******* dogs that appeared wherever you went firm. To this day i don't know where they came from.
Taking five Iraqis prisoner while having a piss up the panzer.
Watching hundreds of Iraqis surrendering to four panzers. They could have picked us up and walked off with us.
The Highway to Hell as it was nicknamed. Sobering stuff.
Getting my mum to send me Brandy in a Wash n Go bottle and despite her not cleaning it out properly (ever drunk Brandy that has bubbles in it?) loving every bloody drop.
Memories of Op Granby - or Desert Storm as I knew it from working with the RSAF.
Being given a lecture by two USAF Officers that even if a Scud missile landed in Riyadh, it would only manke a crater of approx 30ft ...... considering the accom I lived in with my family was even 30ft wide !!
Being issued with an antigas respirator with a blue spot painted on the nose (we joked it was for the Iraqi's to aim at ... ;o) )
Seeing dead Scuds on the airfield.
Observing the Patriot missile strike on a Scud, that a nurse allegedley received a 6 figure sum for the photo she took (never did get one myself though).
And not forgetting then parties on the US compounds with the never ending supply or real drink (not manufactured hooch) and real pork products .... Yummy !!