Women Serving in the Hot Zones

This section is for women who have served in various military operations around the world (other than war) which were virtually hot zones.

The Kosovo bombings were launched from our base in Hungary, and it was both the best and worst of times. I arrived in Taszar, Hungary with my platoon two days before the Kosovo Bombings began. It was an extremely scary time, I was a second lieutenant, and new to the unit. My right hand, SFC Kenneth Smith did not arrive until one week before we deployed and my platoon did not receive the order to deploy until three weeks out. In a short twenty-one days we bonded and became a cohesive unit. My platoon was responsible for over a million pounds of mail. We were seventeen men and women, the first postal platoon to deploy from Ft. Lewis, Washington and although we were scared, we were lucky. SFC Smith took me under his wing and taught me how to lead. I did not always agree with how he wanted things to work, but I always knew he wanted our platoon to be the best. And in the end, in every Army measurable way, we were. Members of my platoon came under fire, but never returned fire, and two hundred and forty days after we left our family's we all returned home safe and sound.

I was extremely touched by the "Khobar" essay. I arrived there, 22 years old and a Senior Airman, on August 7, 1996. It was still fresh from cracked windows, shoes and clothes laying on the ground--dusty--near the building and people who were there during the explosion. I will never forget talking to people, TCNs and my experience in a very different culture. I remember paying attention to middle east issues then, as especially now (we cannot escape it). I had been taught a lot about the middle east in high school and it always interested me--mostly because of my idealistic hope for peace. I remember Yitzak Rabin being killed, my Navy friend Ethan being on a ship, the USS Shiloh, that fired missiles at Iraq while I was there and my desire to understand what was taking place in the world. I remember the people I worked with, Msgt Potter, Dobos, Ryan, and our vendors. I remember feeling tense and promising myself I would never forget how fragile our freedom in America is, it can easily be neglected. Mostly, however, I remember meeting people that I will never forget--as most of us experience when we have to spend 3 or more months in tents with them! They are another family to me, in another dimension. I love and miss them all--Linda Olsen, Lauren, Skip, they shaped my outlook on life. It was hard for those people who saw the horror of that day to believe that anyone fully grasped what they felt. The 22 year old I was, I probably came across as apathetic and annoying, walking in the towers like I was expecting room service. I'm sorry if I came across like that. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about Khobar Towers. When the USS Cole was bombed, I asked a local business why their flag wasn't at half staff. I actually wore the t-shirt for Christopher B. Lester June 25, 2001. I felt like a dork, because no one here probably understood, but I did. The thing about being female and in the military, is that it's hard to express your experiences once you are separated from contact with other military members. I will always remember and I am proud of what I have done and now do part time in the New Jersey Air National Guard. I served in Oman last year and it was with a sense of sorrow and complete pride--the accomplishments outshine the failures and I continue to want to be a part of that--no matter how much people question or don't understand why a female is in the military--believe me, go into a conservative area and they question it. I think this forum is great, and there needs to be more of it. I don't like being a center of attention--that can be more uncomfortable than being ignored. However, I think it's a disservice to our nation to ignore the experience that women have had and still have accomplishing and still struggling to make their way in the armed services. No matter what you might think of another female you have served with ("she's a ditz," "she's butch," she's easy," "God, she'd never make it in combat") all of us served with a common goal--to be a part of something greater than ourselves, to not submit ourselves to an ordinary life or job, and to be a part of the greatest idea in the world--freedom. Although our country doesn't always live up to it's expectations, we continue to be a byproduct who reaps rewards from those who fought to enable us to experience what we have been able to experience. I hope someday we will all be able to sincerely listen to and be interested in others struggles, not just ones we understand. To be able to accept others for what they are is the only way to peace. I hope someday we will not need to go to war--that Humanitarian missions were the last concern. Of course, until then, I serve knowing the possible consequences. Anyhow, I just want all you active duty women out there to know I remember and will never forget, and I'm sure I'm not alone.

25 June 1996, my suitemate Pat E. and I were getting ready to start our "day." Pat found out she just made Technical Sergeant and had half her night shift off to celebrate. We "ruled" Tadtown at night from the Syscon, SATCOM and the Comm Center and relished the moments when we could steal away. We managed to snag a cake from the contract Baskin and Robbins and celebrated as best we could. Deb J., another Tech select, was celebrating with the first off-base pass of the rotation. Jen and the rest of the crew were working and wishing they were with us. I had the night off and was lacing up my shoes to go running when the lights dimmed and the curtains in the dayroom slipped between the closed glass doors. A flash later and we felt the recoil of the bomb. Jen told me of the horror she felt looking at the mushroom cloud billow up from Khobar Towers, knowing we were there. Five years after the blast at Khobar and I find myself still choked with tears for the 19 who died and for the 247 who sustained horrible injuries. I still cry for the 11 TCN children playing soccer in the parking lot next to that truck; the ones who never had their names read aloud to the Americans serving Operation Southern Watch. In the days and weeks that followed the bombing we endured the stress of repeated bomb threats by pulling together. Folks spoke easier to each other. The tasks we would normally save for the lowest of the enlisted were shared by all, gladly. It was teamwork at its best. It's a time I don't ever want to repeat, but I'm sure happy I was there. I became a part of the human race that day. To the survivors of Khobar 1996, it was a pleasure serving with you...

My story is short. I was stationed at KKMC at an EVAC hospital during Desert Storm,I was a mere SPC(E-4).When we landed in country as we were deboarding we were warned about snipers.But our CO was so stupid he puts us in formation in a hotzone. Why do I know this is wrong ,because I spent 4 years in the Corps and even a child knows you don't put troops in formation during a sniper alert. During the war we get nightly scud attacks and constant sniper alerts. But the CO now wants us to salute the officers, most of them tells us not to for fear of snipers. Basically, that's my story. Oh, yeah as soon as we got into country my weapon was taken from me so that it could be given to an officer. So while we were being warned about enemy attacks I felt safer knowing that the officers were going to be protected. I never got a replacement weapon and I was serving with the National Guard. This is not the worse but this is the dumbest.

I joined the military later than most having had 17 years of nursing in the civilian sector. I joined the National Guard in 1986 and after being called up for Desert Storm stayed on active duty. So many people asked me why I joined, particularly at that point in my life. I can only say, I wanted the experience. I think I always regretted not joining and going to Vietnam early in my career. However, after being deployed several times to Saudi and Kuwait as well as Bosnia as a flight nurse, the experience was well worth it. Perhaps the crowning moment of my life will be the time I spent in Tuzla in early 1996. Things were still dicey though we felt relatively safe within the compound. But, wearing 40 pounds of combat gear, helment and carring a side arm 24 hours a day finally impressed upon me that this was the real thing. I flew 13 missions during my tour there, taking ill and injured out of the combat zone, accumulating combat flying hours and an Air Medal along with my fellow nurses and aerovac technicians. We lived in tents that were cold when we got there and hot when we left. But, the friendships that were made and will probably last a lifetime and the experiences were worth all the hardships. I feel like I was the lucky one who got the opportunity to realize a dream few will have the chance to experience. Getting to know some of the local women and their stories, waking up to the sounds and concussion of mines blowing up, feeling the C-130 go into evasive maneuvers and fire off chaff and flare, and the sheer joy of flying were unforgettable.

heart. And as hard as it may be to believe, there was no sex going on, no cheating. Most of these men were honorable, big brother types. That and the fact if the Colonel found out they'd be hash. Sure I got a few love letters on my cot. But they were from the same guy and he was in MI, he wasn't a scout like the rest.

And when I got stuck with a needle that was full blown HIV positive from a Haitian I had to give an IV to I was supported by the Colonel, he asked if I wanted to go home (It was only the third month there) and I said no. Sure the weather sucked and it was like hell on earth, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, but I was with people I cared about. It's so hard to explain about the military. You're with people who do the same thing. They sacrifice every day and don't question why they have to spend a month away from their newborn son. Men and women. It's a community. I've been out for two years and next week I'm going back active. It's all I've ever known since I was 18, and I don't think I would choose any other career for myself, I don't think I would be as proud.

I served with the 568th Engineer Company in Mogadishu, Somalia. Our unit was there from April of 1993 to September of 1993. I guess when we found out we were going to Somalia, we all thought we would be keeping the peace and supply the people of Somalia with food and medicine. As an engineer unit, our mission was to build new roads so that the much needed supplies could reach the suffering people of Somalia. It was only shortly after we arrived that we realized this was not going to be an easy task. We began to receive enemy fire on a regular basis and we had many people in our unit seriously wounded. Looking back now, I really wonder if we accomplished anything at all while we were over there. It has taken me a few years to completely digest the reality of being in such a hostile environment. I still feel a great sadness when I think about all the Americans and U.N forces that were killed and/or wounded while in Somalia. Yet I also cannot help but think also about the many people of Somalia that also lost their lives and who continue to suffer today. I guess I am angry in one sense because I feel like we were betrayed by the Somali people. I also realize now that not all of the people in Somalia were the enemy. I met a special young man that we called "Rambo." He was around nine or ten years old and he had lost both of his parents in the civil war. I look back now and wonder how Rambo is? I also get strength from my little friend because I have seen how people can suffer so much and it has made me appreciate my country and my family more. My feelings about Somalia are a mixed bunch. It tugs at your soul when you feel both pity and hatred for a group of people. I know my experience will always be with me. My greatest hope is that the leaders of this country will always think about the dangers of sending our troops into such a hostile environment with such limited resources. I am proud to have served in Somalia, I only wish things could have turned out differently. I only wish we could turn back time. -- A Pfc., Somalia Veteran.

I really can't think of much good to say about it. I was lucky: I went with a tiny unit, with six other women. I was there for Oct. I lived through daily mortar attacks, survived 8 ambushes, and watched my best friend die. The hardest thing has been to get vets, the VA, and any one else to take it seriously. I saw more combat and fighting than the marines (a laugh, as they slept on an aircraft carrier) -- just because I'm a woman I had to carry my medal orders, my newspaper clippings of my award ceremonies... just to be taken seriously. I now live abroad and spent alot of time trying to forget. By the way, I did get a fair shake out of the army: combat related injuries at 60%... including severe PTSD. War was either mind numbingly boring or you were too hyped to be scared. But I do miss my unit (101st Airborne Div AASSLT)and my buddies. What a strange trip it's all been.

It was just four months after I had my daughter I was notified that I was going to Bosnia. First I cried and then I started preparing my husband, my baby, and I. The next day I packed all of my daughter's things and my husband and I booked a flight to Atlanta where my mother would pick me up. I think I spent 24 hrs with my baby before I had to fly back to Germany. I cried and cried but I gave her a kiss goodbye and left on the next flight. When I arrived there, my husband picked me up and we spent time with each other. For he too was leaving for Croatia. That day I felt and immense sadness yet excited. The day we left it was cold and I was excited for we had to convoy from Germany to Bosnia. I imagined the wondrous scenes I would see and the endless driving we were going to do.The trip went well except all for that one truck that kept breaking down. You see I am a mechanic and the only mechanic in the convoy. I fixed everything from one tractor loosing 5 lugnuts off one tire. I remember me in my coveralls in Croatia on the side of the road using a chock block to as a jack and me and my girlfriend trying to get the tire off. I had to space all the lugnuts that were left so the truck would make to Bosnia. Needless to say I did It, the guys were proud of me. Later my girlfriend and I laughed over the whole thing and she said to me," maybe you did learn something in physics". That was a great deployment....