After nearly 30 years of no major military conflicts, America suddenly found itself on the brink of war.
With a young pregnant wife at home and a small son, my brother was deployed in October 1990. Thanks to his CO, who said my brother was needed, he did not deploy in August with the rest of the unit.
For weeks the news had been filled with reports of coming attacks.
Early in the evening on January 17 I was walking across the small apartment complex after doing some laundry. I looked up at the darkening sky and said, “if they are going to do anything, it will happen now.”
A few short hours later, the reports came in that the Air Force’s stealth bombers had unleashed their cargo…we were at war!
I was terrified! My brother was over there somewhere in the desert – we didn’t know where he was, it was classified.
I couldn’t stray far from a television set. I needed to hear every piece of news I could get; hoping to hear something that would let me know that my brother was safe.
I remember one news report on ABC with Peter Jennings. He was conversing with a journalist who was stationed in Israel – who was constantly being attacked – when the air raid siren went off. People were running for shelter and the journalist kept talking to Peter Jennings. Jennings finally said, we’re fine here, you get to safety. I had a great deal of respect for him after that.
Much later we learned that my brother’s unit was in Kwait and had crossed the border into Iraq with the first ground troops. Whoa boy!
A war started on false pretenses, the conflict would result in some catastrophic events for years to come.
In 1991, it was still the “early days” of consumer internet and email services. Dial up was the only form of getting online and you had to pay for each email sent.
Once company named CompuServ offered a service during the Gulf War where a subscriber could send one email free of charge each day to members of the military who were deployed. I took full advantage of the offer and send long emails every day. Sometimes my mother would come over and add her two cents to the letter.
Of course, due to lack of availability and duty, my brother didn’t respond every day, but it was a big relief knowing that he was safe.
December came…and so did the new baby. December also meant the holidays. My mother refused to take down the Christmas tree as the new year began. She said that she would not take down the tree until my brother was home again.
January arrived with much trepidation and on January 17, the war began which threw everything into full panic for our family. We were no longer sure of brother’s safety and we had no idea of where he was.
I was in college and after every class, I went in search of a TV to see what news I could get. I guess the fact that I never heard his name was a good thing, but it didn’t make me feel any better at the time.
When brother finally came home, the baby was four months old and Easter had come and gone. Underneath the Christmas tree was my brother’s Easter basket.
He said that the first time he held his daughter, she cried; but it didn’t take long for her to realize that that dude was okay because he fed her and changed her diapers!
Eighteen years later, he was again deployed to that desert; but at least this time he wasn’t in the middle of the combat zone as a member of the Inspector General’s staff.
And once again, there was a baby on the way; this time the daughter who was born on the eve of war, was bringing a child of her own into the world.