May 24, 2009
As early August 1990 rolled around, my hope to attend my 20th high school reunion gave way to more pressing matters, the birth of Dale Joseph. While DJ was making his way into the world, Saddam Hussein’s tanks were making their way into Kuwait and men and women and aircraft from my Air Force squadron were making their way to Saudi Arabia.
In December, I was notified that I would be joining my deployed comrades. I was torn – my country needed me; I wanted to do my duty; I wanted to go to war with my unit.
But there was also fear and uncertainty. We had a new-born baby at home; I hadn’t been away from my family except for a few days at a time in years; tensions were rising in the Middle East; the deadline for Saddam Hussein to withdraw his troops was drawing near; troops were massing on both sides of the Iraq – Saudi border.
No one knew exactly what we would face if the Iraqis did not back down. The Iraqi Army was supposed to be well-trained and we knew that he had used chemical weapons against the Iranians in 1980 and against his own people in 1987-88. We had no doubt that if he was brutal enough to gas his own people, he would have no qualms about using it on U.S. troops.
So as Christmas arrived, the deployment was looming closer and as I sat in the pew at church, it weighed heavily upon my mind. My older kids were singing at the front; Katie held little DJ and I wondered if I would see DJ singing like that at the front of the church one day.
And as clear as if He were sitting right beside me, the Lord told me that I would return alive to see DJ sing in church. And at that point, I knew it would be all right.
On January 4, 1991, I arrived “in country,” a makeshift airbase at the uncompleted King Fahd International Airport in the Saudi Arabian desert some forty miles from Dhahran. A week or so later, in a “morale” tent – we couldn’t have a tent called a “chapel” – an Air Force chaplain introduced me to the 91st Psalm.
The war was still a few days away, but I had already been frightened when the alert sirens sounded in the middle of the day. When the sirens sounded, we had seconds to pull on our gas masks and to get to shelter. I was on the flight line, a hundred yards from shelter and a hundred yards from the gas mask I had left there. I had gotten careless and in any moment, a Scud missile could drop nerve agent on my head.
I ran as fast as my short legs would move me, crossing that hundred yards in what had to be record time for me. I made it just before the shelter door closed, grabbed my gas mask and pulled it on, clearing and sealing it. Immediately, it fogged up as I breathed heavily into it.
A few moments later, the “all clear” sounded; the alarm had been caused by a computer glitch somewhere. But until the all clear came in, it was real and it was scary. From that day on, my gas mask was always within reach.
The morale tent was moderately full with maybe 20 or 30 of us there when the chaplain read the 91st Psalm, reminding me of the promise the Lord had made to me.
“He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.“ (Psalm 91:4-6, KJV)
So with His truth as my shield and covered by his wings, the Lord brought me through Desert Storm intact, through nightly alerts for Scud missiles aimed at Dhaharan or Riyhad or Tel-Aviv and through the night when the first alert was was BOOM of a Scud's warhead going off just a few miles from our compound. No one was hurt by that one. God is good.
With 191 days in country, I boarded the “Freedom Bird” at Dhahran under the hot July sun. With a refueling stop at Rome, and another with a layover at Shannon, Ireland, followed by a plane change at Philadelphia from chartered airliner to military transport, I had lost track of time. I was no longer certain what day it was, but thought it was July 17th.
After hours of flying, with I stepped off a C-130 at Hurlburt Field, Florida to be greeted by my wife and family. I presented Katie, my wonderful wife, with a single red rose I had found in an airport shop in Philadelphia. The date was July 18, 1991 and our fourth anniversary. God IS good.
All the time.
For more on the Soldiers Psalm 91 Prayer:
http://www.lamppostpublishing.com/soldiers_psalm91_prayer.htm