“I know that, too. And I can’t tell you what’s gonna happen, cause it’s against the rules. But I will tell you one thing, though. Stick with Lieutenant Dan. And listen to him. Listen real carefully.”
“Oh, I will,” I says. “He is the best combat leader there is.”
“Well, just pay attention to him, okay?”
I nodded, an then Jenny sort of begun to disappear in the whirlwind. I wanted to call her back, but her face begun to fade, an she says somethin else that was very faint, but I heard it.
“That German girl—I like her.” Jenny’s voice is almost gone. “She’s got spirit, and a good heart...”
I tried to say somethin, but my words caught up in my throat, an then the whirlwind gone on its way, an I am left alone under the desert sky.
I ain’t never seen nothin like what I saw next dawn, an I hope I don’t ever see it again.
Far as the eye could see out in the desert, from horizon to horizon, our tanks an personnel carriers an mechanized guns is lined up in all directions. All the motors is runnin so’s the sound from half a million men an machines is like one big constant growl from a giant tiger. A mad giant tiger.
At daybreak the order is given to move forward an kick Saddamn Hussein’s A-rabs’ asses out of Kuwait. An that’s what we done.
Me an Sergeant Kranz, who has now been promoted to corporal, an Lieutenant Dan are in command of one of the tanks. Also, we has brought ole Sue along for good luck. Now, these tanks is not at all like the tanks we had in Vietnam, which were as simple to run as a tractor. But that was twenty-five years ago. Nosiree, these tanks look like the inside of a spaceship, with all sorts of computers an calculators an electrical stuff flashin an beepin. They even got air-conditionin.
We is in the first wave of attack, an afore long, we has spotted Saddamn Hussein’s army in front of us, cept they are goin backwards. Sergeant Kranz done fired a few rounds from our big gun an Lieutenant Dan done pushed the throttle forward to maximum speed. Seems like we is actually skimmin over the desert, an all around us ever tank has opened fire an pretty soon the whole land is alive with big explosions. The noise is frightful, an ole Sue’s got his fingers stuck in his ears.
“Wahoooo!” shouts Lieutenant Dan. “Lookit them bastards run!”
It was true. Seems like we is out in front of the whole pack. Ole Saddamn’s army is flyin off like a huge covey of quail, leavin everthin behind, vehicles, clothes, stolen cars an furniture from Kuwait. At one point we done crossed a big long bridge an just afore we got to the end of it, one of our own jet planes dives down an blows it in half. We got to the other end in the nick of time, afore the whole thing collapsed down into a gorge!
When I look back through the mirror, I can see we is well ahead of everbody an was about to get on the radio to ast for instructions, when a big ole sandstorm blowed up in the desert in front, an in no time, we was engulfed inside it. Then the radio went dead.
“You reckon we oughta stop an wait for somebody to tell us what to do?” I ast.
“Hell, no,” says Dan. “We got them bastids on the run—Let’s keep em there!”
So that’s what we did. We was in the sandstorm all day an most of the night. Couldn’t see two feet in any direction, or tell if it was night or day, but we kep on goin. Couple of times we passed stalled-out tanks of Saddamn Hussein’s army an refilled our fuel tanks from em.
“You know,” says Lieutenant Dan, “way I figger it, we’ve come nearly three hundred miles.”
Sergeant Kranz done looked at the map.
“If that is the case,” he says, “why, we oughta be damn near to Baghdad by now.”
Sure enough, just then the sandstorm let up an we come out to a bright sunshine. A sign on the road says Baghdad—10 kilometers.
We stopped for a minute an popped open the tank hatch an looked out. Sure enough, we can see Baghdad up ahead—a big ole white-lookin city with gold spires on the tops of buildins. But we don’t see nothin else all around.
“We must of outrunned our own line,” says Sergeant Kranz.
“I suppose we ought wait for them,” Dan says.
All of a sudden, ole Sue, whose natural eyesight is like binoculars, begun to chatter an wave his hands an point behind us.
“What’s that?” Sergeant Kranz ast.
Over the horizon, we could barely make out a bunch of vehicles in a line comin up behind us.
“It’s our tanks, finally,” says Lieutenant Dan.
“Hell it is!” hollers Sergeant Kranz. He has got out the field glasses an is starin at the line of vehicles.
“That’s the whole goddamn A-rab army!” he shouts. “We ain’t only outrunned our own army—we’ve outrunned theirs, too!”
“Well,” says Dan, “this is a fine kettle of fish. Looks like we is caught between the proverbial rock an the hard place.”
That is the understatement of the year, far as I’m concerned. Here is the entire A-rab army bearin down on us in one direction, an up ahead is where Saddamn Hussein hissef lives!
“Well, we gotta get some more gas anyhow,” Dan says. “I reckon we might as well go into town an find a fillin station.”
“What! Are you nuts?” shouts Sergeant Kranz.
“Well, what do you suggest?” Dan says. “We run outta gas, we walk. You rather walk, or ride in a tank?”
I reckon Dan’s got a point here. I mean, it probably ain’t gonna make no difference one way or the other how we are kilt, so we might as well get kilt ridin in our tank.
“What about you, Gump,” Sergeant Kranz asts, “you got a opinion?”
“I don’t give a shit,” I says. An that was the truth.
“Arright,” say Dan, “then let’s go to Baghdad an take in the sights.”
So that’s what we did.
Chapter Twelve
Let me say this: Us bein in the city of Baghdad was about as welcome as a tankful of bastids at a family reunion.
People done seen us an run off screamin an hollerin, an some of them begun thowin rocks at us. We drove down a bunch of streets, lookin for some kind of fuel depot, an at one point Dan says we better stop an try to figger out some way to disguise ourselfs, or we will be in real trouble. We got out of the tank an looked around. The tank was so covered with dust it was barely recognizable, except for the American flag painted on the side, which showed through a little. Sergeant Kranz observes that it is too bad we ain’t got any mud on our tank treads now, cause we could use it to hide over the flag. Dan says that ain’t a bad idea, an sends me over to a ditch in the street to get some water for to make our own mud. Turns out, it ain’t water in the ditch, but sewage, which makes my job somewhat less than pleasant.
When I come back with the bucket, everbody be holdin they nose an fannin the air, but we gone ahead an mixed up some dirt with the sewage an slapped it over our American flag. Dan remarks that if we are caught, we will now probly be shot for spies. Anyhow, we all got back in the tank an Sergeant Kranz give Sue the slop bucket, with some fresh slop, in case the mud wears off an we have to do it again.
So, off we go. We drove around some more, an our disguise seems to be workin. People might look up when we go by, but other than that, they don’t take much notice. Finally we come to a fillin station, looks like ain’t nobody home. Dan says for me an Sergeant Kranz to go see if they got any diesel fuel. We get out but ain’t got three steps when all sorts of commotion begins. Jeeps an armored vehicles suddenly begun roarin down the streets from all directions an slam to a stop right across from us. Me an Sergeant Kranz crouched down behind a garbage bin to wait an see what’s goin on.
Presently, from one of the armored vehicles a man come out, got a big bushy mustache an is wearin a green fatigue uniform an a little red beret. Everbody be sort of kowtowin to him.
“Sombitch!” whispers Sergeant Kranz. “That’s Saddamn Hussein hissef!”
I squinted over, an sure enough, it look like all the pitchers I seen of him.
At first, h
e don’t seem to take no notice of us, an begun walkin into a buildin, when all of a sudden, he stops an spins around an does sort of a double take at our tank. Suddenly, all the A-rabs around Saddamn Hussein begun wavin automatic weapons an come rushin over an surround the tank. One of em gets up on top an knocks on the hatch. I guess Dan an Sue done thought it was us, cause they opened the hatch an found themsefs starin at about two-dozen gun barrels.
The A-rabs drag them down from the tank an stand them up against a wall with their hands in the air. Actually, since Dan has took off his artificial legs he, of course, has to sit.
Saddamn Hussein stands in front of them with his hands on his hips, an begun laughin to his guards an flunkies.
“See,” he says, “I tole you you ain’t got nothin to fear from these American soldiers! Look what we got here drivin one of their best tanks—one’s a cripple an the other guy’s so fuckin ugly he almost looks like a ape!”
At this, Sue get a pained look on his face.
“Well,” Saddamn say, “since they ain’t no identification on your tank, you must be spies—Give em a cigarette, boys, an see if they got any last words to say.”
Seems that things are lookin pretty bleak, an Sergeant Kranz an me, we can’t figger out what to do next. Ain’t no sense in us tryin to rush the guards, account of they is so many of them we would just be shot down. Can’t get back in the tank, neither, cause they are guardin it as well. Can’t even run away, cause it’d be cowardly, an besides, where’d we run away to?
By now, Dan is smokin his last cigarette an Sue begun to take his apart an eat it. I guess he is figgerin it for a last meal. Anyhow, all of a sudden ole Saddamn turns around an goes up to our tank an climbs in. Few minutes later, he come out again an hollers for the guards to bring Dan an Sue over to him. Next thing you know, all three of em are inside the tank.
Turns out, ole Saddamn ain’t never been in a modern tank before, an don’t understand how it works, an so he has decided to give Dan an Sue a reprieve, at least until they can show him how to run the tank.
They is down inside it for a little bit, an then the tank suddenly starts up. Slowly, the turret begun to turn around, an the barrel of the big ole cannon begun to depress till it was sort of lookin right in the faces of the guards. The guards got kind of funny expressions on an begun chatterin to theyselfs, when Saddamn’s voice come over the tank’s loudspeaker, tellin the guards to lay down they automatic weapons an put they hands up. They done as they was tole, an as soon as they did, ole Sue pop up out of the hatch an motion for me an Sergeant Kranz to hurry over an get in the tank. Soon as we had, ole Sue lifted up the slop bucket an thowed the whole load of shit right in the guards’ faces, an we took off at top speed. In the dust behind us, we could see the guards all gaggin an flailin aroun an holdin they noses. Inside the tank, Dan is drivin with one hand an holdin a pistol to Saddamn Hussein’s head with the other.
“Forrest,” he says, handin me the pistol, “take over an keep this sombitch covered. An if he makes any false moves, blow his ass away.”
Saddamn Hussein is one unhappy bastid, an he is cussin an cryin an callin up to his Allah.
“We got to get us some damn gas or this whole scheme is gonna be foiled,” Dan says.
“What scheme?” I ast.
“To deliver this goddamn sand wog back to General Scheisskopf so’s he can thow him under the jail—or even better, line his ass up against the wall like he did to us.”
By this time Saddamn Hussein is got his hands folded together an is tryin to get down on the floor of the tank an is prayin an beggin us for mercy an all that kind of shit.
“Make him be quiet,” Dan says. “He is disturbin my concentration. Besides,” he says, “the bastid is stingy. When I asked him if I could have a last meal of some fried oysters, he claimed he didn’t have any. Whoever heard of a man that runs a whole country couldn’t get himself some oysters if he wanted to?”
Just about then, Dan slams on the brakes of the tank.
“Here’s a damn BP station,” he says, an starts backin the tank around to one of the pumps. A A-rab guy comes out to see what’s goin on, an Sergeant Kranz pops out of the hatch an motions for him to fill up our tank. The A-rab guy is shakin his head an chatterin away an trying to wave us off when I snatched up Saddamn Hussein an lifted his head out of the hatch, too, with the pistol still pointed at it.
At this, the A-rab guy shut up an got a kind of astonished look on his face. Saddamn Hussein is now sort of grinnin an pleadin, an this time when Sergeant Kranz motions for the A-rab to fill up the tank, he does what he is tole.
Meantime, Dan says we got to get a better disguise for the tank, account of we is gonna have to drive back through the whole damn A-rab army, which is headed this way. He suggests we go find a Iraqi flag an tie it on our radio antenna, which is not hard to do, since there is about one billion Iraqi flags draped all over Baghdad.
So that’s what we done. With me, Lieutenant Dan, Sue, Sergeant Kranz, an Saddamn Hussein tucked away inside the tank, we headed off to find our way home, so to speak.
One good thing about the desert is that it is flat. It is also hot, an with five people inside the tank it is even hotter. Everbody was sort of complainin about this when all of a sudden we got somethin else to complain about, namely the whole damn A-rab army appeared on the horizon, headed right for us.
“What we gonna do now?” Sergeant Kranz ast.
“Fake it,” Dan says.
“How you gonna do that?” I ast.
“Just watch me an marvel,” says Lieutenant Dan.
He keeps headin the tank toward the whole damn A-rab army until I think he means to smash into it an get us kilt. But that is not Dan’s plan. Just about the time we are fixin to collide with the A-rab tanks, Dan slams on the brakes an wheels our tank around like we was joinin the A-rabs. I reckon they are so scared from whatever it was General Scheisskopf had done to them, they ain’t worrin none about us. Anyhow, soon as we got in line with the A-rab tanks, Dan pulls on the throttle an slows us down, so that the A-rabs go on past an we are finally left settin in the desert all alone.
“Now,” Dan says, pointin at Saddamn Hussein, “let’s get this Kuwait-invadin bastid to higher headquarters.”
From there on, it seemed like smooth sailin, at least till we got near our own lines. Then Dan say it is time to “reveal ourselfs.” He stopped the tank an tole me an Sergeant Kranz to go out an get rid of the Iraqi flag an scrape the mud off the American flag on the side of the tank—so that’s what we done. And let me say this: It was the first time in all the mud scrapin I had done that I actually felt like I was accomplishin somethin. Turns out, it was the last time, too.
Well, with our American flag all shiny an bright on the side of the tank, we got through the American lines all right. On the way we done drove through big ole clouds of smoke from where Saddamn Hussein had ordered his men to blow up all the awl wells in Kuwait. It struck us all as a very sour grapes thing to do. Inside our lines, we ast some MPs for directions to General Scheisskopf’s headquarters. We found it okay after about five hours of drivin around in circles, after which Sergeant Kranz remarked that givin directions is not the MPs’ strong suit, but arrestin people is—to which Dan responded that “Gump is livin proof” of that.
Me an Sergeant Kranz gone on into the general’s headquarters to tell him what we has got out in our tank. Inside, General Scheisskopf is givin a big press briefin on the day’s activities, an all the cameras are whirlin an flashbulbs are goin off. He is showin the reporters some footage from a camera inside the nose of one of our jet fighters as it dived down on a bridge an dropped a bomb to blow it up. Just ahead of where the bomb went off was a tank hightailin it across the bridge, which barely escaped to the other side when the bridge collapsed.
“An you see here,” says General Scheisskopf, pointin at the tank with his ruler, “looking through his rearview mirror, is the luckiest man in the whole damn A-rab army!” At this, everbody in
the room got a big chuckle, cept for mysef an Sergeant Kranz, who were horrified, account of that picture was of us when we crossed over that bridge!
Anyhow, we did not tell this to anybody, because it would spoil General Scheisskopf’s story, so we waited till he was finished an then Sergeant Kranz gone up to him an whispered in his ear. The general, who is a big ole jolly-lookin feller, got a sort of weird look on his face, an the sergeant whispered in his ear again, an the general’s eyes done bugged out an he grapped Sergeant Kranz by the arm an had him lead him outside. Me, I follered along.
When we got to the tank, General Scheisskopf climbed up an stuck his head down the hatch. Few moments later he jerked back up again. “Jesus God!” he said, an jumped down on the ground.
Meantime, Dan hoisted hissef out of the hatch an set down on the deck of the tank, an Sue, he done come out, too. While we was in the headquarters Dan an Sue had tied up Saddamn Hussein hand an foot an to keep him from blabberin so much had stuck a gag in his mouth.
“I don’t know what in hell happened here,” says the general, “but you boys have screwed up royally.”
“Huh?” says Sergeant Kranz, forgettin his manners for a moment.
“Don’t you understand it is against my orders to capture Saddamn Hussein?”
“What you mean, sir?” ast Dan. “He’s the head enemy. He is why we is fightin over here, ain’t he?”
“Well, er, yes. But my orders come directly from the President of the United States—George Herbert Walker Bush.”
“But, sir...” starts Sergeant Kranz.
“My orders,” says the general, kinda lookin around to make sure nobody is watchin, “were specifically not to capture that butthole you got in that tank. And now what have you done? You’re gonna get my ass in a sling with the President himself!”
“Well, General,” Dan says, “we’re sorry about that. We didn’t know. But, I mean, we got him now, don’t we? I mean, what are we gonna do with him?”
Gump & Company fg-2 Page 17