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FEATURE FOR WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13, 2001

Ten years after the Storm

by Deborah Turner

With the new millennium, the United States is facing the irrecoverable loss of one of its most precious resources: the depression-raised World War II veteran. Though many of their stories remain untold, at least we know - insofar as a people raised in liberty and a lush economy can realize - what they experienced. And we have the magic of the cinema to guide us through their horrific beach landings - cast headlong into enemy territory to fight for their own survival and their nation's honor - surviving that initial onslaught only to continue through battle-weary days and terror-filled, frozen nights. It has been said that the honor comes only later, when the survival is done; during battle, there is only that will to live and to assist one's comrades in that solitary endeavor.

At their heels come the veterans of the Korean War and Vietnam, their experiences also richly displayed in cinematic splendor from the combined comedy and understated realism of the Korean War in "MASH" to the hopeless confusion, exhaustion and bloody battlefields of Vietnam in "Platoon".

With Desert Storm, we had something better, it might be argued; the war was broadcast to us in live, quick-time television. When the January 15th deadline to withdraw his troops passed, we knew - before Washington could make its formal proclamation - that our struggle against the new tyranny of oil-rich and power hungry Saddam Hussein had climaxed into war with an incredible show of U.S. air power. Thousands of sorties later, "only one" pilot had been lost in the first week of the war. After 38 days of continuous barrage by our Air Force and Navy pilots, the ground war was launched with the "Big Red One" leading the way, encountering masses of terrified, starving Iraqi soldiers, yet to encounter the elite Iraqi Republican Guard. On February 27th, the Republican Guard was destroyed - and the so-called 100-hour war was over.

Our men and women returned to a public that greeted them with great fanfare. It was one of the United States' greatest hours - we had crushed a foe so easily, it seemed, and our loved ones had returned to us safely, having experienced little in the ways of war. As one veteran of prior wars put it recently, "Technology has saved so many lives."

Yet the full story of the war remains untold, and while it is certain that we were all indeed fortunate that this war did not stretch into the devastating years and loss of lives that prior wars have claimed, it is essential that one realize as well the sacrifices made, the courage shown, and the ordeals endured by the soldier-citizens who returned from war, accepted their accolades, and settled back into small-town lives in a country made stronger by their service.

Ten years this past November, the soldiers of the 1174th Transportation Company in Dresden, Tennessee, climbed into the same fuel-hauling tractor-trailer rigs that had been a part of the National Guard training duties at the armory for years. The formerly green and black camouflaged vehicles had been given a new, sand-colored camo paint job in keeping with the terrain for which they were headed.

It was an uncertain time, a new era in American defense strategies, in which entire communities of men and women were being shipped from civilian life into the rigors of war in a test of the true readiness of the National Guard soldiers.

The convoy passed from the armory, making its way past the High School where throngs of students and faculty gathered outside the buildings to wave farewell to the soldiers. Among the soldiers was Debbie Coday; among the students, her two sons. "You just don't know what to expect when you go to war, and I was a mother with two teenage boys," she recalls today, "I didn't know if I'd ever see them again."

A single parent, she had joined the military in order to give her sons "someone they could look up to - a role model." Now, she was saying goodbye, having written letters to each of the boys telling them how much she loved them and how much they meant to her.

The parade continued through the town square where hordes of people had turned out to give the men and women the best support they could give - the unconditional love of a community for those who had volunteered to lay down their lives in protection of their country, their community, and each citizen who was allowed to remain at home. In the minds and hearts of those who stood in support and in those who were leaving was a common thread of concern that when the convoy returned - if it returned - it might be with the loss of some of its members.

It was a possibility that was driven home with stark reality for Sergeant Edward Hussey when, in preparation for the journey, he and other members of the 1174th traveled to Fort Campbell, Kentucky to pick up supplies for the assignment. Among the supplies were body bags - enough for every member of the unit. Also en route to Saudi Arabia were two other transportation units - replacements units for others that might be wiped out by the enemy.

That survival of an entire platoon of trucks was a slim possibility was well known from the classroom and simulated training exercises that took place at the unit and at summer camps. The petroleum-hauling tankers traveled in a single file convoy. In the event of an ambush, it was expected that the first few trucks might escape the enemy's attack before those in the "kill zone" found themselves under inescapable fire, and those in the rear were able to rally to form their own defensive positions.

Also familiar was the use of protective clothing and masks against the possible use of often undetectable chemical and/or biological warfare. The masks can be stifling, the clothing hot and heavy.

The unit arrived at their base station in Saudi Arabia minus their vehicles and supplies which had been shipped aboard sea-going vessels some time before the troops arrived by air. They were without blankets or heaters to warm themselves on cold, desert nights, short on rations, and without many of the items considered basic among civilized societies, with infrequent baths taking place in 32 degree weather with cold water. The troops endured little sleep, once the ground war began, hauling fuel day and night.

During the Desert Shield phase of the operation, the unit waited for the air war to commence and, once it had started, waited again for their own mission to begin. While we watched scud missiles destroyed in mid-air thousands of impersonal miles away, they watched them as closely as if they were a fourth of July fireworks display - one that was too close for comfort.

As the planes flew overland to their targets, there was another unacclaimed group working quietly in the background. Their work was, at least, quiet to those of us who saw only planes flying high above enemy and civilian communities via satellite TV. To the Republican Guard they were forces to be feared; to the American pilots they were the guiding lights of a successful mission; to the civilians they were combined savior and, at times, unavoidable assassin. These were America's elite special forces, the best-trained troops from each branch of service - among them Army Rangers, Green Berets, and Navy Seals - who combed the desert weakening the Republican Guard on their own terms, and "painting" targets for American pilots to hone onto for the kill. That there were civilian losses in their valiant efforts is a regrettable and inevitable fact of war. Try as he might, Hussein could not discern the whereabouts of these men until it was too late.

Before the Big Red One took up positions near the front lines for the beginning of the ground war, Captain Steve Warrilow, commander of the 1174th, learned the mission of the Dresden-based company would be to supply fuel to the tanks and

other vehicles of that elite fighting unit. This meant that our own men and women would be in the front line along with the offensive team. It was a mission they carried out with unwavering resolve and at great personal risk.

"The commander is always the guy that's got the easy job," Warrilow recalls. "These were the ones who were on the trail and running the fuel and of course we did a lot of things we never planned to do. What they had done a lot of over the years is move fuel and supply up and down the highways, but when you go off into the dessert and you're not working out of a base, it's a new experience. And they were, of course, attached to the First Infantry Division, and so they were right up on the front and they saw a lot of things, and they never expected that." Warrilow, now a Lieutenant Colonel, is battalion commander at Camp Shelby, Mississippi today.

The unit logged almost a million truck miles, hauling over 13 million gallons of fuel during the war. Laughs Tim Fuqua, who is now First Sergeant of the unit, "Sometimes it was the same fuel over and over; we'd drop it off at one place and go back the next day and take it somewhere else.

The members of the unit are able to laugh about their exploits now, ten years later. And laugh they did at their reunion, held recently at the American Legion in Dresden, where many of the 149 1174th Transportation Company soldiers who served in Desert Storm came together to commemorate the ten-year anniversary of their return. Of the 187 members of the unit at the time of mobilization, 169 remained after excess personnel and those not yet trained were transferred out of the unit. While at Fort Campbell undergoing preparation for full mobilization, 149 made it past medical and other screenings to serve in the war. Only 37 of those who went remain in the unit today. Three have since been lost to deaths unrelated to the war, others have retired, and still more served out the remaining years of their terms and chose not to remain.

But ten years ago, they were a team as strong and as dedicated as any you will find, past or present, enduring and surviving hardships together.

Brad Langley summed up the sentiments of many in these words: "This is the best group of people that I possibly could have went over there and done this job with because I don't think any of us would have come back alive without the whole team effort everybody put in. Everybody gave 110 percent. Even when things went real bad you saw people pulling together. I was concerned mostly about the chemical warfare part because that's something we couldn't fight. Even if we had our gas masks and clothes on in time, the stuff he had in those bunkers was so deadly that one drop could have killed the entire unit and we knew that. So you had to wear these chemical clothes with gas masks. You were having more than 100 pounds on your body at one time when you went to the front and it was just so hard to live in that gear and live out of those trucks for that amount of time."

Despite the deplorable conditions, the troops added humor to their situation where possible, an example being "Squirrel's Desert Kitchen," set up by James "Squirrel" Mealer. "I don't want them to forget Squirrel's Desert Kitchen, they all have forgot it," he says, "But a lot of them would not have survived the desert if it had not have been for SDK."

He cooked whatever food was available - "We'd buy it, run over it with a truck, get it sent from home," he said humorously, continuing, "A lot of times when you made the runs, when you come in you didn't have no mess hall open."

It was a time of growth for many members of the unit, including young Lieutenant Alex Alexander who cut her teeth of leadership upon the tough sinew of error, displaying her mettle by accepting her mistakes and learning from them. "She took it like a man," said Steven Todd, who watched her grow throughout their tour of duty.

Lieutenant Alexander proved her courage the night the convoy was traveling under pitch-black blackout conditions, using no lights by which to navigate. When the 13-truck convoy stopped for a break, Sergeant Beau Galey quickly stopped the soldiers as they descended from their vehicles after his flashlight detected that the convoy had driven into a minefield. Galey took the lead, walking the convoy through the minefield in single file, with Lieutenant Alexander and her driver, Sergeant Edith Gardner, driving directly behind him.

It was courage and teamwork such as that which was displayed so powerfully that evening that got the men and women of the 1174th through the war together, and that brought them home as a unit to the yellow ribbons and welcome arms of their families, loved ones, and the community.

"It was an experience we'll never forget," says now-First Sergeant Tim Fuqua, "I think we all lost something there; at minimum we all lost six months with our families. We don't ever want to forget to appreciate our families that stood behind us when we were gone.

First Sergeant Fuqua related the words of General H.W. Schwarzkopf during a press conference on CNN. Says Fuqua, "In so many words he said the First Infantry Division would have been stopped in its tracks if it had not been for a petroleum transportation unit of the Tennessee National Guard." That the general failed to mention the name of the unit was forgivable, Fuqua continued, with so much on his mind.

The unit won many awards for the service during Desert Storm, including the Southwest Asian Service Medal with 3 bronze stars, the National Defense Service Medal, the Tennessee National Guard Defense Service Ribbon, the Tennessee National Guard Distinguished Unit Commendation, the Kuwaiti Liberation Medal Awarded by King of Saudi Arabia, the Kuwaiti Liberation Medal Awarded by Kuwait. Members of the unit who served during the war are also able to wear the badge of the "Big Red One", the First Infantry Division.

Retired First Sergeant Billy Burch, who was First Sergeant during the war, expressed a recurring theme of pride and thankfulness that was shared by each member present: "I am very proud of all the men and women who served their country in a dedicated and professional manner. Thank God for allowing us all to return safely back to our families and loved ones.

In every war throughout history, poetry has told a story of fear, dread, pride, bravery, and longing for loved ones and home. As the troops listened to the sounds of the air war during Desert Shield, not knowing what the future would hold, Larry Freeman penned the following words that he later gave to Lieutenant Vince Beasley, who has carried the words for ten years.

Dear Moms and Dads,

In the distance shells burst;
We are with the 101st
The night sky has just turned red,
Many jets are passing overhead.

But listen folks, please do not fear
We had no choice but to be here
Just remember what I say
The Lord is with us every day.

Our minds return to county square
Lines of neighbors, loved ones there
Flags waving, hollers and yells
God go with you boys and gals.

With packs and rifles on our backs,
Our most prized possessions in our packs,
The sands of Saudi do we tread
Mama, I sure do miss my bed.

Weakley County soon we'll see
Mom and Dad, please look for me
Tears of sadness took your boy
But we'll return with tears of joy.

-Larry Freeman
Desert Shield 1991

This quilt bears the names of each of the members of the 1174th Transpor-
tation Company in Dresden, Tennessee who served in Desert Shield/Storm.

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