Chuck Horner was home.
The
No matter how long a man has traveled, no matter how mysterious or strange the desert nation may seem, this simple ceremony, repeated every time he meets his Arab host at the airport, in his home, or even in his office, becomes the familiar opening that lets him know he is a welcome and honored guest. He is truly home.
When you are hosted by the king, you never go hungry. Sodas, juice, and dates and nuts were available in the VOQ rooms; dinner was served about eight; and Horner could call room service at any hour for anything else he wanted.
Sometime toward midnight — for that’s when business in Saudi Arabia normally takes place — the U.S. delegation made the short trip over to King Fahd’s palace. During the day, just as in the West, a visitor meets with his Saudi counterpart and talks over whatever subject is on his agenda. After nightfall, when things have had a chance to cool off, he gets together late and drinks tea and juice, and sometimes has dinner. Then, around midnight, he gets down to serious business and decisions are reached.
The trip to the Palace of the Defender of the Two Holy Mosques was a first for Horner. He’d heard it was splendid, and he was eager to check it out.
It turned out to be every bit as lovely as its reputation — with the usual Arab features: curving arches; brown, tan, or reddish-brown adobe; earth tones that blended in with the color of the surrounding desert; brick stairs; flowered tiles; fountains; and a glorious profusion of roses. The Saudis are especially astute at creating serenity and comfort in the midst of the beautiful but harsh desert in which they live.
While Horner and John Yeosock waited in an outer room, General Schwarzkopf and Secretary Cheney met with the King, joined by Chas Freeman, the U.S. Ambassador to Saudi Arabia, and Major General Don Kaufman,[27] the top U.S. military officer residing in the kingdom.
During that session, King Fahd made one of the most courageous, farsighted decisions ever made by an Arab leader. The situation was clear. Iraq was in Kuwait, and much of the Kuwaiti population was in various Saudi Arabian hotels. The Iraqi army was on the border, and while it had not threatened to attack, no one could forget that Saddam had promised not to attack Kuwait either. All of this was a good argument to invite the help of the Americans and other friends.
On the other hand, asking in the Americans presented the Saudis with serious problems — not, as some people think, because the Saudis feared and rejected America and the West. That wasn’t true. The Saudis admired and respected the West. Inviting in the Americans was problematic because Saudi Arabia was the most deeply fundamental Islamic nation. To the Saudis, fundamental Islam required them to stay as close to the teaching of the Holy Prophet and the Holy Koran as possible, and this required them to reject the aspects of our culture that, in their view, were offensive to God, such as pornography, drunkenness, and the like. They had no wish to encourage the spread of these vices inside their country. Like it or not, many Arabs viewed the people of the United States (including the U.S. military) as drunken, pot-smoking skirt-chasers. The ghost of Vietnam haunting us again.
So here was the King of Saudi Arabia trying to work out what to do after an army of brother Arabs had successfully invaded a neighboring brother country. As he gazed upon that ghastly situation, he couldn’t help but ask himself, “Will my Arab brother attack me?” even as the ruler of the attacking country assured him that his armies meant no harm. So should he trust the good intentions of his admittedly treacherous brother, or should he invite a foreign legion of godless drunks and rapists to defend his people? It was one hell of a choice!
For a long time, the debate continued in Arabic between the King and his brothers, with Cheney, Schwarzkopf, Freeman, Wolfowitz, and a few other American representatives still in the room (since Freeman spoke Arabic, the main points of the debate were later reported to the others). On and on, with no clear answers. Then, at last, the King articulated very simply what he had probably had in mind ever since it had become clear that the United States was willing to offer military help… Horner wasn’t to know what that was, however, until after the meeting broke up.
As the American delegation left the Palace of the Defender of the Two Holy Mosques, everyone seemed unusually calm and peaceful. Cool breezes were blowing off the Red Sea, fountains sang in the courtyard. The only other sound was the chirp the tires made, like sneakers on marble, as the staff cars glided over the polished tile driveway. The delegation filed into the cars without speaking, everyone deep in thought, heavily troubled by what lay ahead.
Horner and Paul Wolfowitz climbed into the backseat of the car they were sharing. As they drove out the massive gates of the palace grounds, Horner quietly asked him how things had gone in the inner sanctum. “The King has asked us to come in and help,” he said, with some wonder in his voice. “He said I’ve seen this nation come too far to have it destroyed.”
It was as simple as that. Yet it meant that Chuck Horner was about to embark on nine of the most intense months of his life.
Back at the guest quarters, Secretary Cheney held a short staff meeting to discuss what needed to be done right away. Then everyone turned in for some well-needed rest.
Even though Horner was worried that the change in time zones and the adrenaline racing through his veins might make sleep impossible, for some reason he enjoyed one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. The decision had been made. Now all he had to do was execute his end of the operation.
The following morning the Americans met with the King’s younger brother, Prince Sultan, the Minister of Defense and Aviation, the Arab equivalent of Cheney. After everyone filed into the vast, luxurious reception room (there was a light scent of rose water in the air), Prince Sultan took a seat in the corner in a large upholstered chair, Cheney sat to his right, while Prince Bandar stood between them to translate. (By this time, Bandar was the Saudi Ambassador to the United States; smart and devastatingly charming, he was the equal to Colin Powell at political maneuvering.) Prince Sultan, Bandar’s father, was fluent enough in English to conduct the meeting in that language, but this was not the time for misunderstandings. Each word had to be carefully weighed before it was spoken; and then it was up to the former F-15 fighter pilot, Prince Bandar bin Sultan bin Abdullah Aziz, to make sure everyone understood what each side was agreeing to. Meanwhile, various Saudi military and the rest of the U.S. delegation took other chairs. Except for Sultan, all the Saudi military chiefs were in Riyadh.
Those in the room were tense and uncertain. They were in the first moments of a singularly important marriage, and the bride and groom were not sure they could get along… though they were more than willing to try. John Yeosock’s and Chuck Horner’s long experience in that part of the world — only Ambassador Chas Freeman knew the Arabs better — made them probably the most relaxed Americans there. They were familiar enough with Arabic not to totally depend on the translator; and, more important, they could read the facial expressions and body language of the Arabs, which allowed them to understand the emotions behind much of what was going on.
This is what the two sides agreed to that morning: the Saudis would open their bases and ports to U.S. military forces, and pay for the lion’s share of the huge undertaking upon which both nations were embarking. The U.S. representatives promised that their forces would respect Saudi laws and culture, and would leave immediately when requested by their hosts. The United States had learned from Vietnam.
Once all this was settled, another question came up: who’d be in charge while the CINC returned to the States to start the great enterprise that would become Desert Shield? Someone had to be appointed as the United States’ forward commander, to stay in the capital in Riyadh to organize and run things as the units and supplies arrived in-country — and to be in command of U.S. forces, in the CINC’s absence, in the event of an Iraqi attack. After some discussion, General Schwarzkopf, sitting next to Secretary Cheney, pointed across the room to Lieutenant General Chuck Horner, USAF.
Two feelings hit Horner as he learned that for the next few weeks he was to be “CENTCOM Forward.” First
