Well, with our American flag all shiny an bright on the side of the tank, we got through the American lines all right. On the way we done drove through big ole clouds of smoke from where Saddamn Hussein had ordered his men to blow up all the awl wells in Kuwait. It struck us all as a very sour grapes thing to do. Inside our lines, we ast some MPs for directions to General Scheisskopf's headquarters. We found it okay after about five hours of drivin around in circles, after which Sergeant Kranz remarked that givin directions is not the MPs' strong suit, but arrestin people is—to which Dan responded that "Gump is livin proof" of that.
Me an Sergeant Kranz gone on into the general's headquarters to tell him what we has got out in our tank. Inside, General Scheisskopf is givin a big press briefin on the day's activities, an all the cameras are whirlin an flashbulbs are goin off. He is showin the reporters some footage from a camera inside the nose of one of our jet fighters as it dived down on a bridge an dropped a bomb to blow it up. Just ahead of where the bomb went off was a tank hightailin it across the bridge, which barely escaped to the other side when the bridge collapsed.
"An you see here," says General Scheisskopf, pointin at the tank with his ruler, "looking through his rearview mirror, is the luckiest man in the whole damn A-rab army!" At this, everbody in the room got a big chuckle, cept for mysef an Sergeant Kranz, who were horrified, account of that picture was of us when we crossed over that bridge!
Anyhow, we did not tell this to anybody, because it would spoil General Scheisskopf's story, so we waited till he was finished an then Sergeant Kranz gone up to him an whispered in his ear. The general, who is a big ole jolly-lookin feller, got a sort of weird look on his face, an the sergeant whispered in his ear again, an the general's eyes done bugged out an he grapped Sergeant Kranz by the arm an had him lead him outside. Me, I follered along.
When we got to the tank, General Scheisskopf climbed up an stuck his head down the hatch. Few moments later he jerked back up again. "Jesus God!" he said, an jumped down on the ground.
Meantime, Dan hoisted hissef out of the hatch an set down on the deck of the tank, an Sue, he done come out, too. While we was in the headquarters Dan an Sue had tied up Saddamn Hussein hand an foot an to keep him from blabberin so much had stuck a gag in his mouth.
"I don't know what in hell happened here," says the general, "but you boys have screwed up royally."
"Huh?" says Sergeant Kranz, forgettin his manners for a moment.
"Don't you understand it is against my orders to capture Saddamn Hussein?"
"What you mean, sir?" ast Dan. "He's the head enemy. He is why we is fightin over here, ain't he?"
"Well, er, yes. But my orders come directly from the President of the United States—George Herbert Walker Bush."
"But, sir..." starts Sergeant Kranz.
"My orders," says the general, kinda lookin around to make sure nobody is watchin, "were specifically not to capture that butthole you got in that tank. And now what have you done? You're gonna get my ass in a sling with the President himself!"
"Well, General," Dan says, "we're sorry about that. We didn't know. But, I mean, we got him now, don't we? I mean, what are we gonna do with him?"
"Take him back," says the general.
"TAKE HIM BACK!" we all shout.
General Scheisskopf wave his hands for us not to be so loud.
"But, sir," say Sergeant Kranz, "you gotta understand that we was within a inch of our lifes tryin to bring him here. It ain't easy bein the only American tank in Baghdad in the middle of a war."
"Yeah," says Dan. "An what's worse, the whole damn A-rab army is now back in Baghdad, just waitin for us."
"Well, boys," the general says, "I know how you feel, but orders is orders, an I'm orderin you to take him back."
"But, sir," I says, "maybe can't we just leave him out in the desert an let him find his own way back?"
"Much as I'd like to, that would be inhumane," General Scheisskopf says piously. "Tell you what though, just get him within four or five miles of Baghdad—so's he can see it himself, an then turn his ass loose."
"FOUR OR FIVE MILES!" we all shouted. But like the man said, orders was orders.
Anyway, we gassed up an got somethin to eat at the chow tent an saddled up the tank for our return trip. By this time it was gettin night, but we figgered at least it might not be so hot. Sergeant Kranz brought Saddamn Hussein a big ole plate of greasy pork chops, but he say he don't care for any, so hungry or not, off we went.
It was quite a spectacle out in the desert, which was lit up like a stadium from all the awl fires burnin. We made pretty good time though, considerin havin to dodge all the junk left over from the whole damn A-rab army. Seems that while they was occupying Kuwait, they had also occupied some of the Kuwait people's things—like their furniture an their Mercedes-Benzes an such, but when they left in such a hurry, they didn't bother to take them with them.
The ride back to Baghdad was actually kind of borin, an to pass the time I took the gag out of ole Saddamn's mouth to see what he had to say. When I tole him we was takin him home, he begun to cry an shout an pray again cause he figgered we was lyin an was gonna kill him. But finally we settled him down an he begun to believe us, though he could not understand why we was doin this. Lieutenant Dan tole him it was a "gesture of goodwill."
I piped up an tole Saddamn I was friends with the Ayatolja Koumani, an in fact had once transacted some bidness with him.
"That ole fart," Saddamn says, "he has caused me a lot of trouble. I hope he roasts in hell an has to eat tripe an pickled pigs' feet for the rest of eternity."
"I can see you are a man of great Christian charity," says Lieutenant Dan.
To this, Saddamn has no response.
Pretty soon, we could see the lights of Baghdad in the distance. Dan slowed down the tank to hide the noise.
"Well, that's about five miles, as I make it," says Dan.
"It is not," says Saddamn. "It's more like seven or eight."
"That's your tough luck, buster. We got other shit to do, so this is as far as you go."
With that, Sergeant Kranz an me hoisted Saddamn out of the tank. Then Sergeant Kranz, he made Saddamn take off all his clothes, except for his boots an his little beret. Then he pointed him at Baghdad.
"On your way, you degenerate turd," says Sergeant Kranz, an he give ole Saddamn a big kick in the ass. Last we seen of him, he was joggin across the desert, tryin to cover hissef in front an behind.
Now we are headed back to Kuwait, an everthin seems to be goin smoothly, more or less. Though I am missin little Forrest, at least me an Lieutenant Dan an Sue is back together again, an besides, I figger my army hitch is almost up.
It is almost pitch black dark inside the tank an ain't no sounds cept the noise of the engine, an the instrument panels is glowin faint red in the dark.
"Well, Forrest, I reckon we have seen our last war," says Dan.
"I hope so," I says.
"War is not a pretty thing," he goes on, "but when the time comes to fight it, it is us who have to go. We are the professional army. The shit-shovelers in peacetime, but it's 'Tommy get yer rifle, when the drums begin to beat...' Saviors of your country an all that crap."
"Well, maybe that's true of you an Sergeant Kranz," I says, "but me an Sue, here, we are peace-lovin folks."