A Roja by any other name

Okay, you're probably sick of hearing about it by now, and you know what? I'm close to getting sick of writing about it. I want the rewriting to be done, and I want to be able to move on to other things. I'm behind on getting stuff typed in, and I want to start working on my next book. Claudia is off at a convention this weekend, so I've spent most of it spewing threats at my keyboard.

Just a few minutes ago, I sent in a request to Black Belt magazine to try to track down a tidbit from my past. During Desert Storm, ( it still feels funny to call it that. It was named Desert Shield to begin with, and we were told only the air assault portion of it would be named Storm, then when the ground war started, it would be referred to as Desert Saber) the ship I was on docked for a while in Dubai, and we got some liberty there. By a happy coincidence, the world karate championships were going on in the city at that time, so some friends and I attended. While we were sitting in the stands and talking, and sort of sticking out like sore thumbs with pink, sparkly balloons tied to them, this guy comes up to us and asks if we are Marines.

It turned out that he was a photographer, there to cover the tournament for Black Belt Magazine. He not only got us down to the meet the American team, but he took our pictures with all of them. That was one of the coolest moments ever, and not just because the two ladies were damn hot. It was nice to just talk to someone from the U.S. for a few minutes. Most of the citizens of the U.A.E. were polite and friendly, and it was a fantastic place, but you could tell that even the ones who hated what Iraq had done had mixed feelings about us being there.

I forgot about the whole thing soon after getting home. As the years wore on, events like that have taken on a surreal quality, and not just for me, it seems. Folks act funny when you talk about wars. A while back, I started trying to track down what issue those pictures might have appeared in. I know the article might not have even made it into the magazine, and I know that my picture might not have been printed even if it did. But I'd like to know, and if they were printed, get a copy.

Still writing, just like I've been doing all day.