Memorial Day and My Friend, James Tatum

A twist of fate and three hours is all that separated two soldiers - one soldiers' story ended in tragedy and the other one continues on today, always trying his best to honor the other.   This sounds like a movie, but it is the true story of my life and how it changed one day in February 1991.

Let's go back in time a little.  I was a struggling college student who couldn't find his place in any college class.   I knew that I would need a radical change to improve my future.  I have always been very patriotic and felt the need to show this by enlisting in the Army.  Either way, it would force me out of Boulder and to a new adventure that would hopefully make me mature, and, in addition, give back to my country that had given me so many freedoms.

When you sign up for the military, they don't give you the full details about everything.  You learn most of them along the way.  Preparing to sign on the dotted line, I noticed it was an 8 year commitment.  My active duty term and then inactive years tacked on.  The duty officer told me not to worry, after active duty, you were out, unless they called you back in times of war.   We both had a good chuckle.  It was the late 80s and there wasn't much chance of a world war.  Famous last words ...

I signed up as a Petroleum Supply Specialist.  Hey, there weren't many choices at the time, it was either that or Food Service or Infantry.  And, actually, Fuel Supply allowed me to fulfill my childhood dream of driving a big truck (to the right is my 5 ton diesel truck).   Basic training and advanced training were filled with amazing stories as well, but I will save that for another time.   I went to Ft. Jackson, SC for basic, then to Ft. Lee, VA for advanced training, and finally Ft. Dix, NJ for more training.  I got a great assignment in Ft. Ord, CA (Monterrey Peninsula) for my final duty assignment.   If you have ever read Clear and Present Danger by Clancy, you will learn about the 7th Infantry Light, which is the unit I was assigned to, but our unit was focused on mobile air defense artillery (2/62 ADA).

I worked hard in my unit as both the fuel supply specialist in the field as well as the motor pool vehicle dispatch clerk.   It was a great adventure, but as I approached the end of my enlistment in October of 1990, I began to worry.  Hussein had taken over Kuwait and war seemed to be inevitable.  The word got out that the military was starting to close the doors and not allow anyone to get out.  My date was approaching, but I had a lot of leave built up so I was able to get out in September and narrowly avoided the stop gap.   I returned to Boulder with a new found maturity and readiness to start college once more.  Why I chose University of Colorado again, I will never know, but I started classes in January as the war buildup was in full steam.  I knew that my adventure back in Colorado was short lived, and the inevitable was going to happen.  On that fateful day in early January, I got the letter.   As soon as I say the envelope, I knew what it was and the cadence song echoed in my head, "Got a letter in the mail, go to war or go to jail ..."   I shipped out a week later back to Ft. Lee, VA.   I spent the entire day waiting in line to get all the medical paperwork filled out and re-issued my equipment.  Then, it was two days of training back in the fields where I was more than two years earlier.  This is where I met James Tatum.  Tatum and I were in similar situations.  Both of us had served our time and gotten out, only to be returned by letter.  He was from a farming community and we talked at length about farms and things.  We quickly became friends.  He was an upbeat person with a great smile and always optimistic. 

From Ft. Lee we shipped off to Ft. Knox, KY.  It is from here that we would catch flights to Saudi Arabia to be assigned a unit.  You see, the Inactive Ready Reserve (IRR) were a special group.  We were soldiers who had served our time with honor and were out, back in the civilian life.  Some of us had been out for almost a year, for me, it had only been a few months, but we had tasted the freedoms again.  It was tough for some to adjust back and it was only made more difficult by the fact that we were going to war.  And, even though, in hindsight, the war was over in days, we didn't know this at the time.  We were taking special pills that were supposed to prevent the effects of anthrax and other nasty chemicals that Saddam has stored away and was ready to use against us.   So, on the last night, Tatum and I took a cab and went out for dinner.   It was a somber night and we both sat with our own thoughts about the future.   I had settled many of my differences with various girls and friends back home, because I had this weird feeling that I was never coming home. that this was the end for me.

We were awoken early and taken to the airport.  Ironically, they were still flying commercial aircraft into Saudi Arabia.  We took an American Airlines plane from Kentucky to New York to Rome to Saudi Arabia.  We were on the plane for more than 24 hours, only landing to re-fuel.  The flight attendants were wonderful and made us pretty comfortable, but I was ready to get off when we landed.  We came in late at night.  As soon as we got off the plane, the sirens went off.  We immediately had to jump into a trench near the runaway until the "all clear" was sounded.   I was in a completely new land and not sure if I would make it through the first day!

The picture to the left is probably the last one of James Tatum.  At the airport, we were put in cots to get some rest before being shipped to our next spot.  So many times they just didn't tell us what was going on.   And, we always spent so much time just sitting and waiting, playing Spades, or just sleeping.  In the morning, we were taken by bus to the Quartermaster Detachment unit.  As we pulled in past the guard shack, we saw the patriot missile teams we had heard so much of on the news.   They were designed to strike the Scud missiles that Saddam was launching at random times out of the sky.  We stayed a few days at this unit.  It was crowded and they had everyone sleeping in what appeared to be a huge hangar.  There were actual beds here, Army beds anyway, and they were lined up in huge rows.  If you had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, it took you forever to find the bed again.   Every day, we were called out to formation and they would read names out and the assignments.   Other people that came with us on the plane were being chosen and leaving.

Here in this unit, we had no idea what was going on with the war.  We had no idea how long we would be here or what would happen.  One day, we were called out around lunchtime, and my name was called to the 2nd Armor Division (out of Ft. Hood, TX).  My heart sunk.  From what I heard from others, this unit was one of the leading forces that would be entering Kuwait and taking on the battle.  Tatum looked at me, and not much else needed to be said.  We both understood that I was headed to the front lines and he was staying here.

A few hours later, we clasped hands for the last time and I boarded the bus.  The bus traveled for about a few hours on the highway and we arrived at another makeshift unit area.  I guess it wasn't time yet for me to join my new unit.  That evening, I sat outside the tent looking up with a few of the other soldiers and we saw the missile cross the sky.  We heard about it, but didn't know the full details at the time.  The next morning, I was off to Kuwait to join the new unit where I was for more than three months.  When I returned home, I found out the truth, the missile had struck the barracks where I had been not three hours earlier, 27 soldiers were dead and more than 90 injured.

Here are some stories about that event:
http://www.qmfound.com/14th_Quartermaster_Detachment.htm
http://www.pennlive.com/midstate/index.ssf/2011/02/operation_desert_storm_20_year.html
http://www.nytimes.com/1991/02/26/world/war-in-the-gulf-scud-attack-scud-missile-hits-a-us-barracks-killing-27.html

I write this story for two reasons:
1) To honor SPC James Tatum one more time on this Memorial Day, 24 years later.
2) To remember and never forget that life is fragile and many times it is just a small twist of fate (or luck of the draw) that allows one to live and another not to.  

Thank you to all the soldiers and families who are serving and have served in the military, especially to those, like James Tatum, who gave the ultimate sacrifice.  

-Mike (SPC. Michael G. Travis)