18 NOV 79

AT SEA

OFF THE COAST OF OMAN

Babe,

It was four days before Africa that I was ambling down towards the Wardroom for my afternoon portion of starch and gravy when a colleague raced up and told me they had occupied the Embassy in Tehran, taking hostages and saying not very flattering things about the old Unites Snakes.

We have been through this drill before; someone does something rash and the Navy has to burn up the taxpayers money and put a long gray hull ominously on the horizon of some piss-ant country. I figured this would be no exception, and being a veteran member of America's dull tip of the sword, pretty much knew what was going to go down.

It was predictable enough for the first three hours. We started laying out charts, and the grizzled old combat vets came down and began to ask Questions about triple A and SAMs (That is Anti-air artillery and surface to air missiles in civilian).

We got all hot and bothered for a while, and then some Washington type got on the phone and told us to cool off? we were headed for Mombassa after all, and they would work on the problem by themselves for a while, thank you.

So we put the pot on the back burner and went ashore a few days later. There was a certain anxiety in the air, though, sitting in the open bar down by the open blue waters of the Indian Ocean, about hundred feet from the white sands and the dope peddlers. There was some pretty frantic merry-making from all hands, as things were obviously not getting any better. I didn't know how much not better they were getting until I staggered back aboard loaded down with native brass wear and about fifteen pounds of Kenyan Shillings I won at the Casino.

Not only was the negotiating not happening, but the Bazargan Government packed cheeks, so there was no government in Iran any more, except for Khomeini, and that old coot was seeing no one. The hostages had been in the bag for seven days already, and when ire east a last look at the white and green coast of Africa

there were no doubts as to the destination.

We have been steaming North for the last five days. We are now off the coast of Oman, where our buddy Air Commodore Bennet and his mercenaries hang out. They are mostly Brit and all crazy. We will run out of exercise excuses for our presence in another few days, and from there things are going to get very interesting.

We have had a series of visitors, all from Washington, most with brief cases handcuffed to their wrists and very grim look.

Like I said about six inches ago, this is not an uncommon situation for us us permanent Westpac types (The tree chopping incident in Korea had the counter-strike briefed and ready to launch a while back, and we got a medal for drilling around for two months out here last Spring) but this one has a cad feel to It, Bo one to negotiate with, even if they had any indication they wanted to do so.

A fanatic at the wheel, and a Presidential campaign underway back home. The home folks apparently feeling they have been pushed around too long. So here we are in the gray Winnebago.

I have a feeling that my hotel reservations in Singapore are going to be unclaimed, these things tend to drag on longer than anyone would like. I would prefer to see about a two hour war, plenty of medals for everyone, and then off to the Raffles Hotel bar for a few cold ones. A civilized way to carry on the logical extension of National Policy.

Unfortunately, I think we can count on a Blue Christmas. If things work out right, maybe we will be on dry land for it.

Hopefully this will be good for a few laughs in a while, and good cocktail party material for years to come. I do know that it has been losing its humorous aspects fairly steadily for the last week. Very odd feeling, sitting down to plan how to deliver high explosives in an orderly and efficacious manner.

There is a time for everything, I suppose, and this is just our time in the barrel.

I will try to update the crisis as it happens, but mail may get a bit sporadic if push comes to shove in the blue waters under the blazing Arabian sun. Hw bout a note from your side of the pond? Well, this may have a shot at getting out in the morning, so I will go now. Duty call and all that shit (actually it is two in the morning here and my rack is beginning to look particularly inviting. Take care and have a good set of Holidays.

I remain hopelessly at sea, surrounded by known communists and fanatic Muslims,

Vic