Grateful American: A Journey from Self to Service(62)
I must have dozed off, but when the phone rang I opened my eyes. My watch read just after 11:00 p.m. An official from the USO was on the line: “Hey, Gary. General Tommy Franks is heading back up to Baghdad first thing tomorrow morning. He wants to take a small group with him. This part of the trip is optional. You in?”
“Count on me,” I said. “I’m ready to go right now.”
I didn’t know exactly where we’d be going or what we’d be doing, or even if I could sleep the rest of that night. But I knew General Franks, a four-star general, was as tough as they come—and whatever he was doing, I wanted to go his direction. Not only had Franks led the 2001 invasion of Afghanistan that had ousted the Taliban regime, he’d also led the 2003 invasion of Iraq that had ousted Saddam Hussein. The general had just retired a few weeks earlier, on May 22, 2003, but he would still be active in his position until July.
Early the next morning, we met on the tarmac at the airbase. It was a smaller group this time that included John Stamos and Rebecca Romijn-Stamos, Alyssa Milano, and Robert De Niro, who shot footage with a small video camera. General Franks greeted us with a smile and a handshake, and we snapped a few pictures for posterity. I’d met lots of celebrities before, but I couldn’t quite believe a man of this magnitude was standing right before my eyes. We flew up to Baghdad again, but this time no double-sided wall of troops greeted us. This time, instead of staying at the airport, we donned flak jackets and helmets and climbed into a convoy of trucks that sped us into the heart of the city. Images of Saddam lined the street. Paintings of his face still hung everywhere. We saw huge concrete pillars with big iron busts of Saddam’s head on top. One was toppled, lying facedown in the dirt. You couldn’t go anywhere in Baghdad without being reminded who the dictator had been. Three helicopter gunships hovered above us the whole way, providing security for the convoy. We were in the heart of the battlefield now. This was urban warfare, and anything could happen.
When we finally pulled up at our destination, I did a double take. There stood the front gate of Saddam’s Al-Faw presidential palace, a grandiose concrete structure with columns and arches, domes, and courtyards, now occupied by US and coalition forces.
The palace was cold and unwelcoming from the outside, although surrounded by calm artificial lakes. Inside, the main structure was huge with enormous chandeliers hanging everywhere and intricate, massive mosaic tiles on the ceiling and walls. Someone said the main structure was some 450,000 square feet, with sixty-two rooms and twenty-nine bathrooms. In its day, Saddam had kept a zoo on the grounds, as well as horse stables, a cinema, date groves, and more. But Saddam himself had rarely stayed here. He kept several different presidential palaces scattered throughout Iraq and preferred a different palace downtown.
We visited US troops inside the compound, shook hands, and signed autographs. General Franks greeted them right along with us. I could see the service members held just as much admiration for General Franks as I did. It wasn’t every day he was able to shake hands with the troops, and they recognized it as a high honor. We must have each shaken two to three thousand hands and taken as many pictures. We also got to look around the palace and see a few things, and I took a picture of a giant mural on a wall. The painting depicted a massive missile that I was told was pointing in the direction of Israel. Saddam’s taste in fine art. I got to sit in a giant throne given to Saddam by Yasser Arafat. So surreal to be there. It was a long day, and the ride back to Kuwait on the C-130 was quieter than when we’d traveled to Baghdad. Tomorrow we would leave Iraq. But our trip was not over; there was more to come.
From Camp Arifjan, the next day we boarded a C-130 and General Franks led us up to Camp As Sayliyah, Qatar, where Central Command for the whole region had been located. General Franks and I sat together on the plane, and we talked the whole time. At the camp, we visited more troops, and Kid Rock put on a big show that evening. They introduced me again as “Lieutenant Dan,” and again the crowd went nuts. I took the microphone and said a few words. When I stepped down, it was dawning on me more and more that the name “Lieutenant Dan” encouraged people far more than the name Gary Sinise, and I felt fine about that. This was about being here for the troops, and if meeting “Lieutenant Dan” would make their day, then that was all right by me. Country singer Neal McCoy took the stage, and he brought up General Franks to sing the old Roger Miller song “King of the Road.” I gathered General Franks didn’t sing onstage very often, but he belted out the tune heartily, while the crowd clapped and cheered.
(After the trip was over, General Franks and I stayed in touch for a while. The following year he came to Chicago and surprised me with an award for supporting the troops.)
Just like that, the trip was over. Six days total. Just a small taste of life in Iraq. I didn’t know it then, but within six months I would be back again, with several trips to come in the years ahead.
On the flight home, I reflected on what I’d seen and experienced. I’d shaken countless hands, posed for thousands of pictures, and talked with so many service members. I’d seen a lot of smiles and felt a lot of spirits lifted. I stood behind the troops a thousand percent. If they were going to be there, fighting this war for us, helping to liberate that country, then I was going to do all I could to support them. The simple act of showing up seemed to carry much weight. I wanted our troops to know they were appreciated, and if going to where the troops were and shaking some hands could help, then that’s exactly what I wanted to keep doing.