Once the Gulf War started, B52’s made night passes over Utica with the regularity of a milk run. Off they went from the Rome Air Force base, carrying soldiers and supplies from the start to the finish of the bombing time period. Meanwhile the debate raged on NPR, and many discussions in the cafés and on buses turned to worries about the threat of a prolonged state of war. In my heart, I was a visitor to the country, on the streets, I was drawn into the news that made every headline. The waitress’s father-in-law was called up as a reserve officer, one of the finest mechanics in town. The car salesman’s daughter was an infantry soldier, he hoped for the best over coffee and eggs. Generals ‘Stormin’ Norman’ Schwarzkopf and Colin Powell were all over the television news. Rehashed and rehashed, tactical victories gave opportunities for veterans to enter the fray. Old scraps were revisited as the current war played out, and Utica resembled the stage set of The Deer Hunter movie, more and more each day. VL