Sunday, April 29, 2012

Once

There was a young vibrant man, he was full of ambition and other things. He Had a family, friends and a good job. He was a bit of a wandering soul so he had a motorcycle but this was much later in this fable. He Lived between Wichita and Muldrow for several years, he would sleep on the floor of a greyhound bus that transported him to and fro, it was a dirty and dusty floor but he slept nonetheless. It seems he was always sent away like that but he rarely remembers coming back that way. This young boys father would be standing there at the station, and they would see each other and smile. He lived with his grandma on his Dad's side for a while then at 11415 east lewis street there in Wichta, his dad had married another, he had a bunk bed and here they had land and he had a fort :-)

So there he was on his new bicycle minding his own business. He had ventured a little farther into the neighborhood than before to see his friend and Grandma Espinoza. On his way home he came across a bunch of kids fighting in the street. Not just a few mind you but a gaggle. He tried to cruise around them but was blocked in by several of them at once. He must have been about 8 or 9 years old. So basically they wanted my new bike and began pulling on it, He wasn't giving it up and tried to bully past them but there was just too many of them. Hands all over his new bike and before you knew it he was crowd surfing above these kids with his bike heading the other direction. He finally got down and went looking for it only to find the meanest, nastiest bully he had ever met sitting on it. He started chasing him on his own bike! He ran like the wind, lost at that point not knowing which way to go. Each time he looked back the bully was closer and closer and so was a whole bunch of other kids. So he kept running, by the time he got back into town the closest thing was Taco Tico and they were open. I don't think they were ready to take his order though. I ran into the bathroom with thugs in tow. The door slammed shut and I locked it tight. BOOM BOOM WHAM could be heard in that small ass bathroom. The kids were trying to break through and get me, by this time I had no idea how many were outside nor where my bike was. Luckily there was a pay phone in the bathroom, now why there was a pay phone inside the Taco Tico bathroom I'll probably never know. But anyways, I reached into my pocket and produced some silver. I called IM and my older cousin answered. I was breathing so hard I could hardly speak and the pounding on the door kept getting louder. Within minutes I heard the deep unmistakable voice of my dad and my cousin. They were there to rescue me and my new bike. Both of the men were bigger than the average Joe so the kids proved little trouble for them. Ah... engrams




On Aug. 2, 1990, Iraq invaded Kuwait. This act precipitated U.S. military involvement in the Persian Gulf. The 1st Inf. Div. was put on alert for deployment on Nov. 8, 1990. The division deployed over 12,000 soldiers and 7,000 pieces of equipment to Saudi Arabia over the next two months.

At 2:00 a.m., 17, 1991,Operation Desert Storm commenced with air raids and artillery barrages on Iraqi targets. The Division continued to rehearse its mission to penetrate Iraqi defenses and destroy the Republican Guard in its zone.

On the morning of Feb. 24, 1991, under Maj. Gen. Thomas G. Rhame, the Big Red One spearheaded the armored attack into Iraq, by creating the all-important breach in Iraqi defenses that enabled VII Corps units to smash into Iraq. The Division broke through the enemy defensive lines, decimated the Iraqi 26th Inf. Div. by and took over 2,500 prisoners. After the breachhead was secured, the British 1st Armored Division was allowed to advance and pass through the Big Red One. This kept up the momentum of the coalition force's attack. The Division then followed and drove to the east deep into enemy territory.

Continuing its attack, the Division collided with the Tawakalna Division Republican Guard and the 37th Brigade of the 12th Iraqi Tank Division. On the night of Feb. 26, 1991, the Division battled with enemy forces and destroyed both units. Enemy losses included more than 40 tanks and 40 infantry fighting vehicles. The Division exploited its success and continued its pursuit of the demoralized Iraqi forces.

Following the Battle of Norfolk, the Division raced ahead to cut of the Iraqi lines off retreat from Kuwait City. Division elements destroyed scores of enemy vehicles and took thousands of prisoners as they advanced.

By 8 p.m., 27 Feb., the 1st Squadron, 4th U.S. Cavalry had seized the main highway leading north out of Kuwait, barring the Iraqis' escape. By the next morning, the rest of the Division had taken up positions along the highway and fully secured it.

At 8 a.m., Feb. 28, 1991, the war was over when a cease-fire was called. The Big Red One had fought through 260 kilometers of enemy-held territory in 100 hours, destroying 550 enemy tanks, 480 armored, personnel carriers and taking 11,400 prisoners. Eighteen of the Divisions soldiers were killed in the war. The Division earned three campaign streamers for its colors: Defense of Saudi Arabia, Liberation and Defense of Kuwait and Cease Fire.

On Mar. 3, 1991, negotiations were held between coalition forces and Iraqi leaders to cement the cease-fire agreements. The Division secured the site of the agreements at Safwan airfield. Following this, the Division prepared for its return to the United States. On May 10, 1991, the Division unfurled its colors at Fort Riley, Kan., signifying its return home. But she wasn't there waiting for him and he, this man finally knew true heartbreak...

First a drop, then another and another until i'm soaked from head to toe, boots full of water and a chill rolls across my spine at 55mph I can barely see, glasses fogging, rain on the inside of them now as a shiver begins to develop deep within. I hug the bike closer soaking the warmth from the air cooled motor as we continue down the highway. The light up ahead turns red and as I begin to brake it's only then I fully realize just how utterly soaked I am. There is so much water that the brakes begin to groan and make sounds like never before as this was baptisim for these wheels, nevertheless they brought me to a stop without fail. As I shook my head to the right and left trying to shake off the rain, the light turned green and we were off again, visibility wasn't clear blue and twenty two, more like dark fog with driving rain and we slowed to around 40-45 mph. The rain kept on pelting us like a swarm of bees interrupted at honey time. Another light is coming up ahead, the shiver is becoming worse but we continue to drive on. Noticed I have a death grip on the handle bars about now. Blinkers on, were going right and as I wearily begin the turn, I'm startled by multiple horns blasting from behind as the rest of the pack waves and continues north. The rain is slowing now. I can see once again, albeit not as clear as I should. Through the winding road we go until we are in a familar place even with the fog and rain. The leader takes a right and I honk, smile and wave but continue west to the filling station. As I pull in there are several folks staring in amazement as I pull up to the pump. I grab a towel, take a deep breath, wipe my brow, dry my glasses and smile, what a ride... Pulling out from the station I see a familar white t-shirt several hundred feet back heading north and as I get up to cruising speed the image is becoming clearer. The rains have subsided. At the light the familar image was indeed Dan, "did you stop at Scott's" he said? "Nope, just honked waved and went on", "funny" he said, "I just kept going straight". We cruised on through Wylie and Murphy headed for Plano, probably end up on the cover of their local newspaper as I'm sure we were quite the sight..good times ;-).TBC

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