So that’s what we did. We was in the sandstorm all day an most of the night. Couldn’t see two feet in any direction, or tell if it was night or day, but we kep on goin. Couple of times we passed stalled-out tanks of Saddamn Hussein’s army an refilled our fuel tanks from em.
“You know,” says Lieutenant Dan, “way I figger it, we’ve come nearly three hundred miles.”
Sergeant Kranz done looked at the map.
“If that is the case,” he says, “why, we oughta be damn near to Baghdad by now.”
Sure enough, just then the sandstorm let up an we come out to a bright sunshine. A sign on the road says Baghdad—10 kilometers.
We stopped for a minute an popped open the tank hatch an looked out. Sure enough, we can see Baghdad up ahead—a big ole white-lookin city with gold spires on the tops of buildins. But we don’t see nothin else all around.
“We must of outrunned our own line,” says Sergeant Kranz.
“I suppose we ought wait for them,” Dan says.
All of a sudden, ole Sue, whose natural eyesight is like binoculars, begun to chatter an wave his hands an point behind us.
“What’s that?” Sergeant Kranz ast.
Over the horizon, we could barely make out a bunch of vehicles in a line comin up behind us.
“It’s our tanks, finally,” says Lieutenant Dan.
“Hell it is!” hollers Sergeant Kranz. He has got out the field glasses an is starin at the line of vehicles.
“That’s the whole goddamn A-rab army!” he shouts. “We ain’t only outrunned our own army—we’ve outrunned theirs, too!”
“Well,” says Dan, “this is a fine kettle of fish. Looks like we is caught between the proverbial rock an the hard place.”
That is the understatement of the year, far as I’m concerned. Here is the entire A-rab army bearin down on us in one direction, an up ahead is where Saddamn Hussein hissef lives!
“Well, we gotta get some more gas anyhow,” Dan says. “I reckon we might as well go into town an find a fillin station.”
“What! Are you nuts?” shouts Sergeant Kranz.
“Well, what do you suggest?” Dan says. “We run outta gas, we walk. You rather walk, or ride in a tank?”
I reckon Dan’s got a point here. I mean, it probably ain’t gonna make no difference one way or the other how we are kilt, so we might as well get kilt ridin in our tank.
“What about you, Gump,” Sergeant Kranz asts, “you got a opinion?”
“I don’t give a shit,” I says. An that was the truth.
“Arright,” say Dan, “then let’s go to Baghdad an take in the sights.”
So that’s what we did.
Chapter Twelve
Let me say this: Us bein in the city of Baghdad was about as welcome as a tankful of bastids at a family reunion.
People done seen us an run off screamin an hollerin, an some of them begun thowin rocks at us. We drove down a bunch of streets, lookin for some kind of fuel depot, an at one point Dan says we better stop an try to figger out some way to disguise ourselfs, or we will be in real trouble. We got out of the tank an looked around. The tank was so covered with dust it was barely recognizable, except for the American flag painted on the side, which showed through a little. Sergeant Kranz observes that it is too bad we ain’t got any mud on our tank treads now, cause we could use it to hide over the flag. Dan says that ain’t a bad idea, an sends me over to a ditch in the street to get some water for to make our own mud. Turns out, it ain’t water in the ditch, but sewage, which makes my job somewhat less than pleasant.
When I come back with the bucket, everbody be holdin they nose an fannin the air, but we gone ahead an mixed up some dirt with the sewage an slapped it over our American flag. Dan remarks that if we are caught, we will now probly be shot for spies. Anyhow, we all got back in the tank an Sergeant Kranz give Sue the slop bucket, with some fresh slop, in case the mud wears off an we have to do it again.
So, off we go. We drove around some more, an our disguise seems to be workin. People might look up when we go by, but other than that, they don’t take much notice. Finally we come to a fillin station, looks like ain’t nobody home. Dan says for me an Sergeant Kranz to go see if they got any diesel fuel. We get out but ain’t got three steps when all sorts of commotion begins. Jeeps an armored vehicles suddenly begun roarin down the streets from all directions an slam to a stop right across from us. Me an Sergeant Kranz crouched down behind a garbage bin to wait an see what’s goin on.
Presently, from one of the armored vehicles a man come out, got a big bushy mustache an is wearin a green fatigue uniform an a little red beret. Everbody be sort of kowtowin to him.
“Sombitch!” whispers Sergeant Kranz. “That’s Saddamn Hussein hissef!”
I squinted over, an sure enough, it look like all the pitchers I seen of him.
At first, he don’t seem to take no notice of us, an begun walkin into a buildin, when all of a sudden, he stops an spins around an does sort of a double take at our tank. Suddenly, all the A-rabs around Saddamn Hussein begun wavin automatic weapons an come rushin over an surround the tank. One of em gets up on top an knocks on the hatch. I guess Dan an Sue done thought it was us, cause they opened the hatch an found themsefs starin at about two-dozen gun barrels.
The A-rabs drag them down from the tank an stand them up against a wall with their hands in the air. Actually, since Dan has took off his artificial legs he, of course, has to sit.
Saddamn Hussein stands in front of them with his hands on his hips, an begun laughin to his guards an flunkies.
“See,” he says, “I tole you you ain’t got nothin to fear from these American soldiers! Look what we got here drivin one of their best tanks—one’s a cripple an the other guy’s so fuckin ugly he almost looks like a ape!”
At this, Sue get a pained look on his face.
“Well,” Saddamn say, “since they ain’t no identification on your tank, you must be spies—Give em a cigarette, boys, an see if they got any last words to say.”
Seems that things are lookin pretty bleak, an Sergeant Kranz an me, we can’t figger out what to do next. Ain’t no sense in us tryin to rush the guards, account of they is so many of them we would just be shot down. Can’t get back in the tank, neither, cause they are guardin it as well. Can’t even run away, cause it’d be cowardly, an besides, where’d we run away to?
By now, Dan is smokin his last cigarette an Sue begun to take his apart an eat it. I guess he is figgerin it for a last meal. Anyhow, all of a sudden ole Saddamn turns around an goes up to our tank an climbs in. Few minutes later, he come out again an hollers for the guards to bring Dan an Sue over to him. Next thing you know, all three of em are inside the tank.
Turns out, ole Saddamn ain’t never been in a modern tank before, an don’t understand how it works, an so he has decided to give Dan an Sue a reprieve, at least until they can show him how to run the tank.
They is down inside it for a little bit, an then the tank suddenly starts up. Slowly, the turret begun to turn around, an the barrel of the big ole cannon begun to depress till it was sort of lookin right in the faces of the guards. The guards got kind of funny expressions on an begun chatterin to theyselfs, when Saddamn’s voice come over the tank’s loudspeaker, tellin the guards to lay down they automatic weapons an put they hands up. They done as they was tole, an as soon as they did, ole Sue pop up out of the hatch an motion for me an Sergeant Kranz to hurry over an get in the tank. Soon as we had, ole Sue lifted up the slop bucket an thowed the whole load of shit right in the guards’ faces, an we took off at top speed. In the dust behind us, we could see the guards all gaggin an flailin aroun an holdin they noses. Inside the tank, Dan is drivin with one hand an holdin a pistol to Saddamn Hussein’s head with the other.