During Operation Desert Storm’s fortunately short duration ground campaign, I had the opportunity to take a small patrol into Kuwait, following in trace of the ground combat elements as they liberated that occupied country from the Iraqis.  I was the G-2 of the 3d MAW, I MEF.  At that time it was not known whether the Coalition would press “On to Baghdad” or hold the line at the Kuwaiti – Iraqi border.  In order to prepare for the eventuality that we might have to continue northward into Iraq (as we eventually had to do a dozen years later in 2003), the 3d MAW Assistant Wing Commander, BGen Bill “Bull Moose” Forney (an old 1802 who became a 75XX fighter pilot) directed me to take a small patrol into Kuwait, close on the heels of the GCE, to assess how well “serviced” were the various types of  ground targets that had been struck by elements of 3d MAW during the air phase of Operation Desert Storm.

So I gathered volunteers: an 0151 SSgt Willie Sims, driver from G-1; an 0231 SSgt Chase(an augmentee from MAWTS-1 S-2 shop); and a combat cameraman who luckily happened to be a former 0251 I-T/Arabic linguist (who had studied Arabic for 18 months previously at the Defense Language Institute), Sgt. John DiDomenico.  Off we went on the heels of the grunts.  His Arabic came in handy.

Kuwait was overcast due to seasonal rains, and the hundreds of oil well fires set by the retreating Iraqi Army created huge amounts of thick, black oil fire smoke that was trapped by the low-hanging cloud cover, creating a stygian darkness so bad that it caused me to need to read my map by red lens flash light in the middle of the day.  It was surreal – kind of like an old movie about prehistoric times, with the hundreds of burning oil well fires resembling erupting volcanoes, and some of the oil wells themselves resembling the skeletons of dinosaurs standing around in the dim light.  One had to be ever vigilant for Iraqi deserters and stay behinds lurking in the dark nearby.  It was a spooky situation in some ways.  As we were four Marines in a NTV, without escort, we were on our own.  Often we drove miles through the sand, crisscrossing the Kuwaiti desert, without seeing a living soul.

Eventually of course we had to stop to take a piss break.  We all got out.  The photographer initially stood guard.  The driver, SSgt. Willie Sims, was obviously nervous.  So I thought it might be useful to break the tension somehow, if possible.  We were some distance from the nearest burning oil well (they were all over the place).  I asked SSgt. Sims, a smoker, if I could bum a cigarette.  As he offered me one from his pack, he said, “Sir, I didn’t realize you are a smoker.”  I replied, “Normally I’m not, but these aren’t normal circumstances.”

Then I put the 0231 (SSgt. Chase, an excellent SNCO) on watch, and asked our combat photo rep. cum 0251, Sgt. DiDomenico, to come with me towards the nearest fire.  I asked him to set up a photo, what I recalled from junior high school art class people called a “perspective shot”.  Then I had him photograph me leaning forward, as if I were leaning into the raging oil well fire (you couldn’t get closer than about 75 meters before the heat became excessive, notwithstanding not wishing to outline oneself as a possible target, either) holding the cigarette up to my lips as if I were lighting up a smoke (“The smoking lamps were certainly lit on that day and in that place).  

I achieved my purpose, I’m glad to say.  It was such a ridiculous gesture that it got all hands laughing, and it did break the tension.  By the way, the photo turned out perfectly – it really does look like me leaning into a raging oil well fire to light up a smoke.                 

Semper Fi(re)!