Hello. How are things in lovely California? Probably better than
here. Just another sandy, windy day.
March 1, 2003
Mom,
Hello. How are things in lovely California? Probably better than here. Just another sandy, windy day. At least it’s not hot yet. It actually gets really cold. I know I asked for flip-flops in my last letter, but I got some yesterday. They have a “roving px” here that comes around about once a month. I waited in line for six and a half hours in a constant sandstorm for a pair of flip-flops and the hope of a candy bar. They were out of just about everything when I finally made it to the small line of boxes in the dirt. I got my shower shoes though and a small travel container of Cheetos! It was gone in two minutes once I took it in the tent. I shared. That was a miserable six and a half hours. I think it helped sell their aspirin, though. We were all laughing about that.
I do still need white ankle socks, though. They don’t have those. You should see all the gear you have to wear out here. The only thing tan will be my hands by the time I get back. Some of my Marines just went forward yesterday. Kind of a field op. We couldn’t all go, because our trucks aren’t even here yet. They’re somewhere on a ship on their way. Soon enough. It was just passed that there is no grid coordinate that a female can’t pass in a combat zone. Basically, we can be on the front lines same as the males. Good to know, good to go. Put me where you need me.
The other day we walked around in gas masks for about four hours, because they detected mustard gas a couple of miles off. That sucked. We were also briefed on SCUD missiles drills. Basically, we just run for a berm (pile of dirt) and huddle. All we can do. We aren’t allowed to go anywhere without our rifle, ammo and gas mask – even the bathroom (Porto-Jon)! When we run, we even have to have our gas mask strapped around our waist. We are about 18 miles from Iraq’s border here in Kuwait (did I already say that?), and I guess we are in their missile range. Whenever we move forward we’re also in their artillery range. Scary, huh?
When you see the reporters or anything in one of our camps – it’s more than likely not ours. We’re living ghetto. At least we get showers – when the water doesn’t run out. We’re at Camp Matilda. The camps with cots and bunks are about two to three hours farther away from the border than us. I’m looking pretty rough out here. But, my toes still have crystal hearts and left-over pink polish and my eyebrows stay plucked (mostly). Leave it to me, right?
As I write to you I have your picture right in front of me. The one of us in the tree. It makes me kind of sad. I miss you and I don’t know when I will get to see you again. At least before you were always a phone call away. Now, I know the mail takes about two-to two-and a-half weeks and packages longer. Unless they’re priority mailed. No Fed Ex here. I guess I should feel lucky to get mail. The only other thing is my Walkman. At least I brought a couple of different tapes. Mixes mostly. I think I’m rambling now, aren’t I? Well, let me go. I have a brief to go to in 15 minutes anyway. Pray for us against biological warfare and SCUD missiles! No kidding there. I love and miss you … more than I miss a diet Coke!
Love you to the bone and the bone, too! Will you send me Gatorade mix to help keep me hydrated?
Love Always,
Lisa
P.S. By the way, I tried to find the camp where the Air Force are, but they’re way behind us in the nice camps! I was hoping to get a hold of the Jensons. Which one wasn’t married?
Lisa Dunn, Marine Sergeant, Gilroy, CA
