Message from Chris Demarest
Joe Schmo Goes Off To War.
By Chris Demarest
I reach out to touch the cold steel side of a huge oil tanker sitting nineteen miles off the Iraqi coast. ItŐs refreshingly cool in its contrast to the staggering heat of the Northern Arabian Gulf. Above us, several twenty to thirty foot-long horizontal scars run along its rusted side testimony to its many less than perfect dockings. As I rest a hand on the hull, itŐs almost unfathomable how this several hundred ton ship floats. It feels bolted to the ocean floor as we, in contrast, bob up and down in the small chop in an orange twelve-foot inflatable boat. This is where, as an artist, science and physics play with my mind. How is it possible that something this large, this heavy, doesnŐt sink? One hundred feet up, a sweep party from the U.S. Coast Guard patrol boat, Aquidneck, is going through the vessel looking for explosives, guns or terrorists or the lot, a prerequisite before moving toward the Al Basra Oil Terminal (ABOT) to take on a load of crude oil. Sweat is dripping off of us in this sweltering heat and humidity. Floating in our small Zodiac-like boat, I look at Matt, the coxswain at the wheel and Cody near the bow, both in brown t-shirts and desert camouflage pants, heavy, black tactical vests over top. Each carries at least forty pounds of gear, M-4 rifles slung around their chests, Beretta pistols strapped to their thighs.. I sweat profusely. They seem unfazed. TheyŐre used to this climate having been stationed in whatŐs referred to as the NAG for close to a year. ItŐs only May. By July, temperatures will reach 130 degrees. When I left home only a week before, buds were not even on the trees, lawns still dull in color. Spring arrived in name only. A week later I sit in 115 degree temperatures and 90 % humidity, smiling, glad to be away from my other life. I chuckle to myself pondering the question: How is it a childrenŐs book author/illustrator is sitting here in a war zone?
(Part One of Joe Schmo Goes Off to War)
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