This doesn't really go with the theme of my blog, but I wanted to share something I posted on my facebook page today.
As some of you know, I served in the MS National Guard and was activated for Operation Desert Shield/Storm 20 years ago this month. On Feb 25, 1991, the day before my birthday, I borrowed the lieutenant's truck and went to the makeshift PX at the Saudi airbase near Dharan. I bought a half-pint of Baskin & Robbins ice cream at a trailer outside the PX and sat at a nearby picnic table to eat it quickly before the intense heat turned it to mush. There I met Spc. Beverly Clark, a reservist from Pennsylvania that had just arrived in country. Her unit was to assist mine in supply operations throughout the region. She was polite and friendly, although she seemed very nervous about her tour even though the ground fighting had been declared over just a day before. We talked and ate our ice cream and I wished her luck. I also told her not to worry to much and hang in there as it seemed then as though we all might be going home soon. That night, Iraq launched the last and only successful SCUD missile launch they would make on allied forces. Spc Clark's unit was bunked at a civilian warehouse we all called "toy town". It was ground zero for the SCUD and she and 41 other US soldiers died that night. While I was only 2 kilometers away, I was unaware of the identities of the casualties until a week later when the newest issue of Stars and Stripes arrived in our camp. It featured not only all their names, but had pictures of Spc. Clark and another soldier on the front page. While I witnessed many horrible things during my tour of duty, I simply can't begin to describe my feelings upon seeing that article and the picture. Less than 12 hours after I had met her and we had talked and even laughed a bit, she was gone. The many SCUD attacks that we endured and more importantly, survived, had caused most of us to feel safe. Maybe even a little complacent or lucky. Until that night.
Spc. Beverly Clark didn't live to become a veteran. But I still think of her every year on the day as well as appropriately on Memorial Day. She may have been worried and somewhat naturally apprehensive about the situation and surroundings, but she knew she was there because she wanted to serve her country. I made many friends during my time in the service. A few of which I still get to talk to occasionally. I only knew her for an afternoon, but I will never forget her.
