Welcome to the Adventure

January 1991
Dear Mom,

You told me to be careful what I ask for and you were right.

I came to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to find a great adventure.

Our “first class accommodations” are in the northern Arabian Desert bordering Iraq and Kuwait. The living conditions can be summed up with five words: sand, cots, tents, dehydrated food.

The SCUD missiles explode overhead and the big MI Abrams tanks fly across the open desert with their turrets spinning. It is both amazing and frightening.

I’m enclosing several rolls of film to help you envision this barren and desolate landscape. Hopefully you can still develop the pictures. The sand grit invades and ruins everything here.
When you look at the pictures, please don’t be upset when you see my hair. It looks like I got a haircut with a hacksaw but it is starting to grow back.

Sometimes I wear my Army camouflage uniform. Other times I attempt to go native to work with the Saudi contractors and local peoples. My Arab style outfit is complete with veils to cover my hair which looks terrible anyway. BUT I absolutely refuse to cover my face.

The guys in my unit started calling me “Florence of Arabia” when we first got here. The name caught on and now people from other units are using it too.

If I had any free time, finding a date would be statistically in my favor. There are more than 10,000 men to every female. One of the guys pulled an amusing prank on me. He is clever and handsome but completely off limits.

I’ll tell you about it later.

Private moments are rare now. The time for the ground war is coming.

Love you,
Flory

First Lieutenant Florence Maxton
Log Base Echo, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia

PS. Are you keeping all my letters? I have not had time to write in my journal.

Airborne (Once In A Blue Moon:Three)

My adrenaline is pumping as I wait.

For three years now I’ve been the only female in this army airborne unit. It never bothers me. I grew up with two absolutely merciless brothers so frankly it is just like being at home.

I have more than 50 combat ready jumps with full equipment including ruck sack, gas mask and M-16 rifle all strapped to my waist and legs.

It takes an athletic person to pull off a combat jump. But today is a pure thrill ride, a short Hollywood jump. Hollywood just means that we have no extra equipment and don’t even have to pop our own chutes on this jump. The chute release is hooked to the helicopter by a static line.

Suddenly the Jumpmaster’s big hand slaps my shoulder. I can barely hear him over the deafening whop, whop, whop of the Huey helicopter rotor blades. “Go Lieutenant!”

Careful not to catch my feet in the long, thin helicopter skids, I launch my 5’3” body into the bright blue sky. The sound of the helicopter fades away as the hot summer wind rushes across my sun kissed face.

Every time I make the leap out of an aircraft I get the same rush of adrenaline and that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. The dread never goes away no matter how many times I parachute but with experience I get more accustomed to the sensation.

I push myself away from the chopper and immediately begin to count, “one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand…”

There is a phenomenal rush of wind as I fall.

At the sixth count the static line pops my chute open and my body is yanked back up into the sky becoming part of the wind. Suddenly I am floating as the parachute fully opens.

In seconds, Meyers, Kolton and Brigg’s chutes open in the clear blue sky behind me. I pull the left toggle on my risers turning toward the three young jumpers.

Instead of creating air space, Meyers is turning towards the other two. What is he thinking? He is suddenly right above Kolton and tries to walk across the top of Kolton’s chute.

Kolton is so focused Meyers that he drifts too close to Briggs.

We jump at just 1200 feet above the ground and now we are too low for a safe opening of the reserve chutes now. I hold my breath.