After Desert Storm, it became Operation Desert Calm (Yeah, inventive). We would go on bus tours of the souk in Ad Damman and Al Khobar. I never felt so far from home. A Saudi guy comes running up to me and asks how I grew so tall. I told him it was good genes. He thanks me and goes running off. We're like, ok, weird! A few minutes later he comes back up to me with a pair of Levis clutched in his hands and says, "See, I have good jeans as well now!". Yeah, that one was lost in translation.
We drove from King Fahd AB to Riyadh to pick up some gear. I caught up with some buddies at Eskan Village and when we got off duty we went to a big mall downtown. I had dealt with the Saudi HP, but had never seen the Morals Police, the Mutawa or Mutawa'in. We're walking through the mall and this lady in a chador, or abaya, is walking with two small children and another woman. We called them BMOs (Black Moving Objects) or Ninja Women. Typical GI humor. Anyway, these folks are walking ahead of us and the lady with the kids has the back of her abaya hitched up on her left leg, static or something was making it stick and showing her leg.
All of a sudden this guy in green fatiques comes running up with what looks like a sjambock and winds up a home run on this poor lady's leg. He's yelling, she's screaming and wailing, and the kids are terrified. I'm shocked and run towards the guy as I'm yelling at him saying, "Hey, knock that shit off!", but my buddy's grab me and tell me who the fuck this clown was. Anothe Mutawa'in shows up yelling at us and pointing his stick at me. I wanted to jam that thing up his arse. We hustle out of the mall and I'm like WTF! I was never so happy to leave a place as I was Saudi Arabia.