Chapter 23 – War and rumors of War
Approximate reading time – 5 minutes
Warning: Contains Strong Language
It was slow at the Camel's Eye, even for a Tuesday night. Attendance during the weekdays had dropped somewhat since the invasion. Lucky thought about shutting the place early, but he decided against it, seeing that Dick, Dusty, Neil, and Julian were deep in conversation. Instead, he walked over to join them. He was also expecting Sam to arrive at any time.
Neil was pontificating about several subjects. Among them were the invasion, global politics, and the righteous cause of democracy and freedom.
"The free world has to stand up to tyrants and bullies like Saddam and ensure they don't run roughshod over the world's smaller nations. It's about time we taught…."
Dusty interrupted him in mid-sentence, looked him straight in the eye, and said,
"Oh shit! Do you think this has anything to do with democracy and all that crap? Get your head out of your ass and smell the coffee. This ain't gonna be no Rambo movie. This heroic action is about oil; ain't nothin' in this goddamn desert anyone wants but oil. If it weren't for oil, none of us would be here, and no one in the world would care if Saddam raped and pillaged Kuwait. Bush ain't gonna let Saddam control nearly 50% of the world's oil. Neil, how long have you been here in the Kingdom? Four or five years, and haven't you learned anything yet? This stuff runs the world, and whoever controls it keeps it running or stops it. Old King Feisal knew that back in '73 when he slapped on that oil embargo."
Neil shot back.
"But Saddam has to be stopped."
Dusty took a drink and resumed their heated dialogue.
"I ain't arguing about stopping him. Damn, right, you have to stop him but don't dress the thing up in ribbons and bows and call it pretty. It's power and control, and that's the long and short of it. These people only understand power and force, the fist and the whip. The guy with the biggest dick can stand up and wave it around; that's one they follow, bow down to and grovel. You got to knock him down, and the quicker, the better. Saddam's an idiot. He had a straight shot into Dhahran and the Eastern Province. Hell, there were even gas stations every few miles to refuel his tanks if he wanted to. But he didn't take the prize. He'd have us by the short and curlies if he'd done it. Hell, this wasn't anything more than a desert raid like in the old days. He swooped in, robbed the bank shot a few locals, raped a few women, and took over the town. And now you think you'll get the sheriff to come in there and fix everything. Shit, there's a long hard road ahead, I guar-an-tee that, my friend!"
Dusty realized he'd now come nearly to the end of his drink.
"Rody, another round for me and the boys."
Neil tossed down the remainder of his drink. He handed Rody his glass and turned back to Dusty.
"So let me ask you, should we go after him and get rid of him and set up a democracy in Baghdad."
Rody set the refreshed glasses on the bar. Dusty took a long drink before answering.
"That's a tough thing to know. Here's what I've seen since I've been here. Ever since the Iranians kicked out the Shah of Iran, the Saudis, and the Iranians have been goin' back and forth over who's a better Muslim. Saddam went after the Ayatollah but couldn't close the deal in ten years. The Saudis, Kuwaitis, and the West backed him. The Kuwaitis gave him loads of cash. So now the Iranians are sitting back laughing and watching. If he goes, then they move in. If he doesn't, then what do we do with him? It's like a friggin' chess game with the devil."
Lucky spoke up.
"One thing I know, there's going to be a lot of money to be made if there's a war. Dusty, you'll probably make a killing trucking stuff up to Hafr al-Batin."
"Yeah, you're probably right. I'll keep my eyes open for the right moment and the right Saudi fixer.
Lucky saw Sam coming in and Nick with him, but not Gemma. Sam and Nick walked over to join the man at the bar.
Dusty motioned for Rody to set up two more glasses for the newcomers. He then spoke.
"Neil and I were just debating the politics of the day. But now we might be able to get an update from Sam."
Sam grinned and then spoke.
"I can tell you a few things I learned from my buddies. Troops are arriving every day from the US and West Germany. They are housing them in the high-rise apartments on the east side of Riyadh and in Dhahran. As you might have noticed, the Air Force has sent their latest and greatest planes, the Stealth fighters and bombers. Those are the strange bat-like planes you might have seen flying around the last few days. There's a squadron over at the airbase. It also looks like the British and French will join us with men and planes."
Julian interrupted.
"Not the frogs, the bloody frogs (the French). What good will they do? Throw pate at the Iraqis?"
Laughter broke out at Julian's comment, but Sam had something to add.
"My British friend, the French will bring something vital– the Mirage jets. They had equipped the Iraqi Air Force with Mirages, and this should allow the Air Force to practice chasing the Mirages before they meet the Iraqi Air Force."
Julian replied.
"We'll see. The French have not been much of a military power recently."
Lucky spoke up.
"Sam, I'm curious, where are the Americans being housed?"
Sam grinned.
"Let me guess, you would like to see if there is a way you could sell them some alcohol."
The men laughed at Sam's remark, recognizing its potential truth.
As the laughter receded, Sam continued.
"First, Lucky, the military brass has outlawed booze for the American troops. So you are out of luck. To answer your question, they are being put up in those high-rise apartments east of Riyadh. My buddies tell me they will leave for Hafr Al Batn in a month or two, depending on how things evolve with the politicians."
At this point, Dick spoke up.
"So Sam, I've been hearing a great deal about Saddam's Chemical weapons and missiles. Do you think we will be in for an attack if war comes?"
Sam paused for a moment before responding. He needed to consider his response; he knew more than he wanted to reveal.
"So, I talked with some of the officers in the Air Force, and they said that the range of Saddam's SCUD missiles was about 190 miles, which would just reach Riyadh if launched from southern Iraq. Al Wadi should be safe from direct attacks."
Dick followed up with another question.
"What about chemical weapons? Can't they spread further?"
This time, Sam answered quickly.
"I don't think anyone can answer that yet. We only have what happened in the Iran-Iraq war, and that was short-range. But I'll let you know if I find out anything more."
Sam was trying to learn more about this topic from his friends in the military, but they were being closed-lipped, which surprised him. Their hesitancy told him something more serious was behind the subject, and he was determined to find out more.
The conversation then drifted into other subjects, and the group decided to call it a night shortly after that.