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This has nothing to do with the military, and is very short, but it is a story that I feel like telling and I am willing to bet that there are other people that have had similar experiences.
When I was living in Saudi Arabia, (my father worked for the Arabian American Oil Company, ARAMCO) in the ‘50s, some friends of my parents decided to make a trip up to the Neutral Zone to have a beer and do some shopping. (No we weren’t frivolous!) The road to the Neutral Zone is several hundred kilometers inland and passes through some of the most inhospitable parts of a generally inhospitable country.
One day they were buzzing along in their Land Rover and came upon an old Bedouin camped alongside the trail. The polite thing to do was stop and offer water or any necessary assistance. One of our two friends spoke a little Arabic and made the necessary inquiries. The old Bedouin was obviously alone and on foot, but thanked them and told them that he was fine.
Our friends got back in the Land Rover and drove several miles before the wife said, “I won’t say anything about that fish if you won’t.” The husband agreed. The old Bedouin had been cooking a fresh fish, and obviously a salt-water variety. Where did it come from? I certainly don’t know.
My thanks yet again to Rory.
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