On the second of August 1990, Saddam Hussein Invaded Kuwait City. I was on my way back from Guantanamo Bay in Cuba when I got word that we would be going to Iraq. We had just finished building Camp X-Ray, which is now famous for housing terrorists and prisoners connected with the 9/11 attacks. During the time of the actual ground offensive, I wrote articles to my hometown newspaper telling of the experiences we faced during that time. This is one of those stories.
On March 21st 1991, I wrote a letter dated February 10th, 14 days before the ground war started. I have recieved many letters from people all over New Hampshire.
To my surprise, the support back in the world is stronger than I thought. People of all ages have been writing to me. It's great to know that everyone is somewhat involved in this crisis.
Also, I found a relative in North Carolina I never knew I had. These relatives have lived there for six years and received the Keene Sentinel from our home town, with my letter in it. When it occurred to them that I may be related, they wrote and to my surprise, they truly were my relatives. God works in mysterious ways.
Now that the war is over and some men and women are already home, I would like to let everyone back home know how we are doing and how the country of Kuwait is looking from our standpoint. As with many other men and women serving in the armed forces, I was called upon by my country to perform a mission. That mission was to liberate a country besieged with ugly scars of despair, turmoil and defeat; I can say now that I believe we accomplished that mission.
The day the ground war started, we were scared, but ready. In the same sense, we were relieved. We figured now that the war has started, we were that much closer to coming home.
My unit, the Mobile Combat Service Support Detachment 26, was in support of the 6th Marine Regiment during the war. We followed behind in a convoy of vehicles during the third phase of the division's first wave on G-day of the ground war.
We drove slowly through the lanes of minefields, well marked with colored signs and barbed wire that guides us through the narrow channels.
Our unit, mostly from Camp Lejeune, N.C., had practiced the breach maneuvers to scale many times over. We assembled the previous night at 6 p.m., staging our vehicles. Our convoy left for a secondary area at approximately 4 a.m. We left this line of departure at about 5:30 a.m. Within an hour and a half, we were in Kuwait.
Once we crossed the border, nothing changed as far as the senses were concerned. On both sides of us, we saw clouds of black smoke from burning Kuwait oil fields. The flames reached over 100 feet high, and produced smoke so thick it choked our lungs; and the sky was so black and dark, at 8 a.m. it seemed to be midnight.
During our first wave on the attack, we singlehandedly captured an Iraqi Major General and a Colonel. We captured the Iraqi 14th Army Division headquarters in less than three hours.
During the course of the war, I saw many acts of heroism. I've seen the dedication it takes to make it as a team. It's amazing how living with total strangers gives you still a sense of being a family. Everybody was a brother in arms.
Those of us who had been in combat before somewhat knew what lay ahead. Those who hadn't learned the hard way. Many of us found that this wasn't a movie or a war novel; this was it, this was war, the real thing; this was a reality that not everyone could comprehend.
We were part of a most triumphant people. We lived day by day to face further attacks against the enemy, and again we won. I fought next to farmers, drugstore clerks, a used-car salesman, carpenters, a preacher's son, the rich and the poor. And from experience, I know many of us were old misfits of society. Now we are coming home, no longer misfits at all. Everyone coming home is a hero.
For many of us, the war is over. For some, it will always remain. We are safe now, and for years to come, long after the war, as we grow older, we will be telling stories of the meaning of freedom. We'll be telling our children of duty, honor, and faith; of hope, courage and endurance. Lastly, we'll be telling our children of the old values that have been at the heart of America from the very beginning. Thanks for your support.
Cpl Robert E. Way
U.S. Marine Corps
8th Eng Spt BN,
Eng Det, MCSSD-26
FPO, NY 09502-0275
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