Regards, Ivan
Posted on 03/18/2003 4:19:52 PM PST by MadIvan
THE last blueys have been written home to wives, mothers and sweethearts. Now there is the waiting.
As the last hours tick away, you can feel the sinews stiffening. After weeks of preparation, the mood of British troops has changed; an air of cool urgency hangs heavy in the stifling and sweat-stained air. It won’t be long now.
Gone is the uncertainty, the empty hours killed with sunbathing, volleyball, reading and pub games without the pub. There is instead a hush, a subdued but focused silence as the reality of war creeps inexorably upon the soldiers.
Aircraft continuously thunder across the clear blue sky, generators drone, and lines of armoured vehicles form up on the sand. The men are about to swap their shades and suncream for helmets and camouflage.
Waiting is an unchanging reality of war: hanging around in a queue for food, for an exercise to start, for the chance of a shower, for the action to begin. Conflict is now so close they can sniff it in the air.
Men keep themselves busy by checking and rechecking their kit. They seem oblivious to the taste of sand in the mouth, eating the same stew every night, and trying to dust off the layers of chronic grit that cling to every part of the body.
Commanding officers target their men with pep talks, reminding them of the qualities of loyalty, courage, determination, selflessness and teamwork that are already well drilled into a highly trained force. There are reminders, too, that any captured Iraqis are to be treated with kindness and decency.
Zach Printer, regimental sergeant-major of 42 Commando, Royal Marines, spoke for his own and many other men. “There is an air of expectation. The boys will have a period of enforced rest, where they get a lot of sleep and take on plenty of water. The plan — each individual’s role — will be running through their minds. They will still have their laughs and jokes but, as we get closer, there is a period of reflection.”
There are diversions, and there are worries. Privates Alison Messham and Nealey Moran of 1 Close Support Medical Regiment have had their hair shaved off to combat the desert heat, and cheerfully absorb the resulting “GI Jane” banter.
The sight of 60 UN vehicles heading out of Iraq into Kuwait was a diversion, but also an ominous reminder of the approach of battle, as was the order to troops to start taking their anti-nerve agent tablets.
Counter-attack is the headline worry. British personnel are under orders to wear flak jackets and body armour when moving between locations. Gas masks are carried at all times. Hi-tech protective suits, marked outside with the owner’s name and blood group, are always close at hand in case of any pre-emptive chemical or nerve gas attack.
Shouts of “Gas, gas, gas” could be an exercise or a false alarm, but either way they have troops reaching for their respirators, or leaping into their protective suits in the prescribed time of nine seconds. Sitting for an hour fully kitted in protective gear in daytime temperatures of 36C is, the men admit, trying to the patience.
But there are worse things to moan about, and the worst of all is the not knowing. Richard Taylor, squadron leader of the Household Cavalry’s D Squadron in Kuwait, said: “The lads come up to me all the time and ask me when we are going. They understand the politicians’ difficulties, but soldiers will always whinge, and if they are not whingeing it’s time to worry.”
One whinge at least has been removed from the muttering soldiery: the breakfasts have got better, and now consist of bread rolls, fruit juice, cake, cereal, watery scrambled eggs, tinned tomatoes and — in the words of one officer — “the most highly processed meat you could ever imagine”.
Within the next 24 hours, they may be missing breakfast and relying on ration packs. They gather round the camp screens showing non-stop news or scan transistor radios for any clue to action.
For all the training, the pep talks, the conviction of right on their side, and the cheery waves of desert dwellers at unmistakably British Land-Rovers, it is little things that keep the spirits up.
Trooper Sven Carlson, 24, a gunner on a Scimitar armoured reconnaissance vehicle, was well prepared for the worst.
“Yesterday I got a parcel from my mum with Pot Noodles, flannels, soap, toothpaste and Ray-Bans. I had been waiting for it for ages and I was well chuffed: it was my little parcel of morale.”
Regards, Ivan
What, exactly is a bluey?
BLAAAAMMOOOOO!!:)
Regards, Ivan
It would appear that the temperatures are pretty much as perfect as they can be for this time of year - mild sunny days and coolish nights. Let's hope they get the green light ASAP before it gets much hotter.
Wednesday
Scattered Clouds. High: 78° F. / 26° C.
Wednesday Night
Scattered Clouds. Low: 57° F. / 14° C.
Thursday
Scattered Clouds. High: 73° F. / 23° C.
Thursday Night
Scattered Clouds. Low: 51° F. / 11° C.
Friday
Scattered Clouds. High: 68° F. / 20° C.
Friday Night
Scattered Clouds. Low: 42° F. / 6° C.
Saturday
Scattered Clouds. High: 68° F. / 20° C.
Saturday Night
Scattered Clouds. Low: 41° F. / 5° C.
Sunday
Scattered Clouds. High: 73° F. / 23° C.
Sunday Night
Scattered Clouds. Low: 46° F. / 8° C.
Monday
Scattered Clouds. High: 71° F. / 22° C.
Monday Night
Chance of Rain. Low: 39° F. / 4° C.
Oh, much like V mail in WWII.
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