It was exactly 20 years ago that our country sent troops to Iraq. Remember?
As I was packing up my suitcases, getting a perm and preparing to leave home for my first semester at UT, President Bush sent a bunch of our troops to Iraq because of some crazy guy named Saddam Hussein.
I lived in a large dorm (SRD) in Austin. A girl in our dorm had a friend in the military and asked a bunch of us to write a letter to the troops.
So being the patriotic 18 year old that I was, I immediately wrote a letter to a soldier. It was a generic letter of thanks--not addressed to anyone. I kind of forgot about it to be honest.
Until later on that fall, I received a letter from a soldier! I was so thrilled. I was just excited that someone had received my letter. Plus, this soldier was incredibly thankful for my letter--and all the letters to his buddies.
His name was Matt. He was in the very first group (platoon?) of Marines that were sent to Iraq. He was from California. He seemed very nice and grateful. Poor speller but nice.
So I wrote him back. (Remember, this is before email and texting) And then I decided to keep writing him--not just waiting for his letters. It would take at least 3 weeks to get letters back and forth. I thought he might need more encouragement than that. I sent some magazines. And gum. Anything that I could think of that would be interesting to him.
I looked forward to checking my mail everyday. It was fun to get letters from Matt. It was a light-hearted stuff. I learned a little bit about him. He learned a little bit about me.
I sent him a small care package to him. It had a disposable camera in it. I told him to take pictures and send it back so I could get it developed. (Remember--1991) However, he took the camera to Saudi Arabia and got it developed and then sent me the pictures.
He was tall and blonde and really cute. Well, news spread fast throughout our little world in SRD. Lots of girls had written letters to soldiers. But none were corresponding as frequently as Matt and I were. And I had pictures! And he was cute! Lots of girls were interested in my relationship with Matt.
Can't you see it now? A city girl in her freshman year at the University of Texas meets tall, blonde Marine who bravely defends our freedom in a foreign land. They meet, fall in love and . . . live happily ever after. We had all just watched Pretty Woman 73 times--my story seemed quite possible!
Did I mention that I was still dating my high school boyfriend? Yeah. I somehow never mentioned my soldier letters to my boyfriend. That's the beginning of a healthy relationship.
Wow--this is taking forever to tell the story.
Fast forward a little bit.
He sent a Christmas card and some small gifts. I got a collect call from Saudi Arabia on Valentine's evening at like 2 in the morning. I was on the other line with my boyfriend (almost ex-boyfriend). And then had to tell him I had to click to the other line because it was a soldier from Iraq that he didn't know about. (Wow. I had some great relationship skills back then)
Anyway, if you remember correctly. We invaded Iraq the first week of March in 1991. It took just a few days for the war to end. I knew Matt would be the first to invade. I watched the TV coverage constantly. We all did. My whole dorm was invested in this soldier.
Then I heard nothing for 3 weeks. I knew the conflict was over. There had been a few casualties. But no names released. I was worried a little bit. But I still was able to manage going to class 2 hours a day and work on my tan at the dorm pool.
Then I got another phone call. It was Matt! He was safe. Actually, he was also the first group sent home! He called from California.
I can't remember too many details. One memory I have is laying out by the pool with a bunch of girls and talking all about Matt. He told me he was going to come to Texas in the summer. We could meet. He wanted to take me out.
We talked a couple of times. He seemed nice on the phone as well. I was looking forward to meeting him.
Then one time I called him. I know, I know--I should have listened to my parents. Never call a boy.
I called the base. That's the number he gave me. I now realize that is a little strange. He didn't live at the base exactly. But I didn't know that so I called.
The conversation went something like this:
"Hello."
"Is Matt ____ there?"
"Matt ____?"
"Yes. Matt told me I should call him at this number."
"Oh, Matt isn't here right now. Have you tried him at home?"
"No, I don't have his number."
"I can give it to you. He lives in Married Housing."
What did he say? Why would Matt live in Married housing?
Once again, I'm 18. Naive. Confused.
So with the help of one of my friends, I called that number. Well, she called that number. A woman answered! I can't remember what my friend said but she got the woman to confirm that she was Matt's wife!!!
We hung up. We prayed that they didn't have the new call return phone feature *69! (they didn't)
Well, that's how it ended. Well, that and I did talk to Matt once and let him have it. He didn't seem to think it was that big of a deal. So he had forgotten to mention that he was married. No biggie. So he had said he wanted to come to Texas to take me out. To say thanks. No biggie.
I might have been 18 and naive. But not stupid. That was the last time I ever talked to him.
Not quite the love story people dream about.
The End.
As I was packing up my suitcases, getting a perm and preparing to leave home for my first semester at UT, President Bush sent a bunch of our troops to Iraq because of some crazy guy named Saddam Hussein.
I lived in a large dorm (SRD) in Austin. A girl in our dorm had a friend in the military and asked a bunch of us to write a letter to the troops.
So being the patriotic 18 year old that I was, I immediately wrote a letter to a soldier. It was a generic letter of thanks--not addressed to anyone. I kind of forgot about it to be honest.
Until later on that fall, I received a letter from a soldier! I was so thrilled. I was just excited that someone had received my letter. Plus, this soldier was incredibly thankful for my letter--and all the letters to his buddies.
His name was Matt. He was in the very first group (platoon?) of Marines that were sent to Iraq. He was from California. He seemed very nice and grateful. Poor speller but nice.
So I wrote him back. (Remember, this is before email and texting) And then I decided to keep writing him--not just waiting for his letters. It would take at least 3 weeks to get letters back and forth. I thought he might need more encouragement than that. I sent some magazines. And gum. Anything that I could think of that would be interesting to him.
I looked forward to checking my mail everyday. It was fun to get letters from Matt. It was a light-hearted stuff. I learned a little bit about him. He learned a little bit about me.
I sent him a small care package to him. It had a disposable camera in it. I told him to take pictures and send it back so I could get it developed. (Remember--1991) However, he took the camera to Saudi Arabia and got it developed and then sent me the pictures.
He was tall and blonde and really cute. Well, news spread fast throughout our little world in SRD. Lots of girls had written letters to soldiers. But none were corresponding as frequently as Matt and I were. And I had pictures! And he was cute! Lots of girls were interested in my relationship with Matt.
Can't you see it now? A city girl in her freshman year at the University of Texas meets tall, blonde Marine who bravely defends our freedom in a foreign land. They meet, fall in love and . . . live happily ever after. We had all just watched Pretty Woman 73 times--my story seemed quite possible!
Did I mention that I was still dating my high school boyfriend? Yeah. I somehow never mentioned my soldier letters to my boyfriend. That's the beginning of a healthy relationship.
Wow--this is taking forever to tell the story.
Fast forward a little bit.
He sent a Christmas card and some small gifts. I got a collect call from Saudi Arabia on Valentine's evening at like 2 in the morning. I was on the other line with my boyfriend (almost ex-boyfriend). And then had to tell him I had to click to the other line because it was a soldier from Iraq that he didn't know about. (Wow. I had some great relationship skills back then)
Anyway, if you remember correctly. We invaded Iraq the first week of March in 1991. It took just a few days for the war to end. I knew Matt would be the first to invade. I watched the TV coverage constantly. We all did. My whole dorm was invested in this soldier.
Then I heard nothing for 3 weeks. I knew the conflict was over. There had been a few casualties. But no names released. I was worried a little bit. But I still was able to manage going to class 2 hours a day and work on my tan at the dorm pool.
Then I got another phone call. It was Matt! He was safe. Actually, he was also the first group sent home! He called from California.
I can't remember too many details. One memory I have is laying out by the pool with a bunch of girls and talking all about Matt. He told me he was going to come to Texas in the summer. We could meet. He wanted to take me out.
We talked a couple of times. He seemed nice on the phone as well. I was looking forward to meeting him.
Then one time I called him. I know, I know--I should have listened to my parents. Never call a boy.
I called the base. That's the number he gave me. I now realize that is a little strange. He didn't live at the base exactly. But I didn't know that so I called.
The conversation went something like this:
"Hello."
"Is Matt ____ there?"
"Matt ____?"
"Yes. Matt told me I should call him at this number."
"Oh, Matt isn't here right now. Have you tried him at home?"
"No, I don't have his number."
"I can give it to you. He lives in Married Housing."
What did he say? Why would Matt live in Married housing?
Once again, I'm 18. Naive. Confused.
So with the help of one of my friends, I called that number. Well, she called that number. A woman answered! I can't remember what my friend said but she got the woman to confirm that she was Matt's wife!!!
We hung up. We prayed that they didn't have the new call return phone feature *69! (they didn't)
Well, that's how it ended. Well, that and I did talk to Matt once and let him have it. He didn't seem to think it was that big of a deal. So he had forgotten to mention that he was married. No biggie. So he had said he wanted to come to Texas to take me out. To say thanks. No biggie.
I might have been 18 and naive. But not stupid. That was the last time I ever talked to him.
Not quite the love story people dream about.
The End.
Post Title
→Desert Storm: A Love Story?
Post URL
→https://dancing-with-the-stars-2011.blogspot.com/2011/03/desert-storm-love-story.html
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