European Stars and Stripes (Newspaper) - February 23, 1992, Darmstadt, Hesse                                Where there a smoke there a tire in the desert tent Brent Yamauchi the inevitable finally arrived. It was time to take my refuse pile which doubled As a desk whenever i needed to look Busy for the colonel clean it out a a purge is probably the More accurate verb and give it Back to the equipment custodian. My unit was agonizing its Way through the final throes of closing up shop and the orders had come Down to collect All of our personal crap turn out the lights and say one last Adios to the office. My name is yams. For those of you who were Down with Vii corps in saudi last year you might know me As the Dork who butchered the English language on a daily basis while hitting and chatting to you army folks about air to mud and air to air stuff while we played spank Saddam. As for background in a your Standard Pilot Type who managed to plan my career perfectly so that one week prior to Saddam rolling South into Kuwait i pcs a from my Eagle f-15 Job at Eglin fab Fla., to Stuttgart Germany to learn about the world of the air Liaison officer Alo and the army. Since my fighter background is exclusively air to air stuff working with the Anny on dose air support and Battlefield air interdiction issues air to mud stuff was a perfectly matched assignment for me. Thank you pc the air forces answer to wheel of Fortune. The Only redeeming feature of this Job was that id have lots of free time to spend with my family and travel around Europe. Working at corps Headquarters was really a staff Job and i would not be subjected to slogging around for weeks in the Field with an armoured or infantry brigade like my other Alo Brethren. Our biggest concerns were planning the next Golf tournament with our sister unit up in Frankfurt and de conflicting our family vacations so that there would be at least one officer left in the office during the upcoming ski season. This All changed nov. 9,1990, when we got the Call to Start preparing our vehicles and packing our bags for an extended trip to Southwest Asia. Working As a fighter duty officer at the 8th air support operations Center in support of Vii corps providing me the Opportunity to live eat and sleep in the desert with the army for 4v5 months. This was a significantly different experience than what the rest of my air Force buds had to Deal with. They worked out of air conditioned tents or hardened facilities had Chow Halls that gave you enough food to be full after a meal and had Access to showers that had running hot water and flush toilets. We worked out of shelters that were strapped to the backs of 5-ton trucks our Chow Wagon burned Down twice during the course of the War we filled our showers with five gallon Jerry cans of the worlds coldest water when we had water available and since flush toilets done to operate effectively out in the Middle of nowhere we had a daily latrine detail to bum All of the previous Days waste. Yeah i know Wah Wah Wah. Anyway As i cleaned out my desk i.e., tossing everything into the dumpster in Stuttgart i came across one of my favorite stories from the desert. Written Many Moons ago while i was living a life under Canvas this event occurred on a night when the Only things we had to fear were 1. The Chow Wagon might be serving leftovers again. 2. An errant scud aimed at the Airfield 30 Miles West of us might accidentally strike our Camp instead Well within the dispersion Factor of this highly accurate weapon and destroy the Only thing we had of value a our Var to and movie Library of for air Force Guys not having Access to a wide screen to is considered roughing it. Well its time to make like a Dot. As soon As i finish with my desk probably need Only four More dumpsters or Soi m off to fort Walton Beach Fla., to work on something important like my volleyball  hades working in the Field you soon discover its the Little things that make All the difference. One of these was our tent Heater. It squatted on the floor looking like a Black Kettle with a smoke stack in it to Aid in ventilation. Burning a combination of gasoline and diesel it merrily converted fuel into heat keeping us cozy comfy warm on those Cool Crisp desert nights. One evening near dusk one of my tent mates decided to preheat our tent by lighting the Heater and turning it on full blast an acceptable technique for Short durations Only. Right about then we All gathered outside to watch artillery rockets mrs launching North toward iraqi positions. With the Orange glow from the Sun separating the ground from the dark sky multiple fingers of red Light streaked northward As the artillery fired. A Nice show. As we returned to our tent we noted an unusual amount of Black smoke billowing from our Chimney. Something about this picture did no to look right pretty Sharp for College graduates. We figured it out when we opened our tent door. And entered Little hades. Gee i never knew a tent could get that hot. So quickly we disconnected the fuel Supply from the Heater before meltdown occurred opened All the tent flaps and moved our stuff away from the glowing Heater As we were afraid of spontaneous combustion. It was about 30 degrees outside so we assumed it  take too Long to Cool the tent off. After Only a couple of hours of standing around in the freezing saudi night our tent was once again Safe for human habitation. The Heater was remit and appeared to be satisfactorily wanning our tent Back to a comfortable level so we jumped into our sleeping bags and began our delayed slumber. I was sound asleep dreaming of a Nice cold Beer. Suddenly a commotion. People stumbling about raising a ruckus. All of this noise came from inside my tent what was going on Here As a result of our earlier buffoonery the poor Little Heater had created about 5 tons of Black puffy soot which was clogging the Chimney. And the smoke which before had peacefully wafted into the atmosphere was billowing into our tent and turning it into a saudi arabian Gas chamber. Not quite the romantic Way i had pictured becoming a War casualty. Once again the tent flaps were opened the fuel can was disconnected and the Heater was extinguished. My tent mates were outside surrounded by the chill of the night dressed in pyjamas and boots hopping around and rubbing their hands As they tried to stay warm while waiting for the smoke to Clear. In the midst of Little hades i curled up warm and comfortable in my bag and returned to my visions of tall Foamy draft Beers As i fell Back to sleep with my pocket of fresh air. Capt. Brent Yamauchi is stationed at Eglin fab Fla. Send in your column plus a photo of yourself to be our guest sunday Magazine the stars and stripes Apo 09211 or Postrach 11 14 37, d-6100 Darmstadt 11,  laugh it out Langer Buenos Aires Argentina copyright a 1992, cartoonists a writers Syndicate from the cover .4.5 a look Back at the desert . This show went to the excellent dogs Odds amp ends. Erma Bombeck says sew what in tune. Television shows stay in line. This weeks films Ion Complete cafes circuit listings. Chuck Finch a Wayne a world Worth three stars television listings. 12-14 local Cable and satellite schedules Home entertainment .15 a pure Luck Quot tall on jokes. On Parade. 16 the husbands of Barbara Walters. Voices. 17 the loves life of Bill Clinton. Words and wit. 18 William Safire multiplies his prefixes. Books. 19 fresh ideas died with Alex Haley. Classified ads. A i i last laugh .24 Dure Barry checks in on deficit. A a a a a a a. Bill and Hillary Clinton still running. Page 17. Sunday is a weekly supplement of the stars and stripes editor Bucky Fox Art direction Susan p. Harris  Susie Stonum editorial assistance Marian Hamilton Louis Pierce sunday february 23, 1992