What My Personal Story From the 1991 Iraqi Scud Assault Teaches About COVID-19

In January 1991, when I finished my Israel Defense Forces (IDF) basic training and received my service assignment as a military journalist, my family and friends showered me with sarcasm.

“Thank you so much for coming all the way from America to save us,” deadpanned one of my childhood buddies, an Israeli Air Force fighter pilot. “How did we ever survive without you?” fired another, an IDF Armored Corps major.

At that point, all I could do was smile and half nod, half shrug. My buddies saw my military journalist role as so nonessential that they dubbed me a “chocolate soldier.” It made no difference that my bachelor’s degree and industry experience allowed me to hit the ground running as the IDF Spokesperson’s Unit’s professional first lieutenant. Stationed in the heart of Tel Aviv by IDF Headquarters and lunching in the officers’ dining hall (I recommend the chicken schnitzel and mashed potatoes), I had it ostentatiously easy.

Then everything changed.

In the predawn hours of January 17, my grandfather, whom I stayed with at the time, woke me up and said the unit sent a vehicle to pick me up. The U.S.-led coalition had just launched Operation Desert Storm to push Saddam Hussein’s troops out of Kuwait.

Having slept in my uniform in anticipation of such a development, I jumped out of bed, rushed out and hopped into the vehicle, which sped away as I closed the door. I spent the workday and much of the night conducting research, writing reports and drawing up communication plans. We received briefings, facilitated media requests and contemplated various scenarios.

After work, at around 11 pm, I joined one of my buddies at our favorite bar for a couple of Goldstars. A usually packed hole-in-the-wall, Zig Zag stood eerily empty. As De La Soul and Leonard Cohen were piped in through the wall speakers, we placed bets on Operation Desert Storm’s length and reach. I wagered the Americans would complete their mission in a month and “say no go” to invading Iraq. My friend predicted two weeks and said, “first they’ll take Kuwait, then they’ll take Baghdad.”

A couple of hours later, I arrived home and turned on the radio, only to hear the code words “nachash tzefa” (viper). Knowing what this message signified, I woke up my grandparents and led them into the “sealed room,” which we had prepared by covering its windows with plastic sheets and filling its closet with food, water and other supplies, such as a first-aid kit. Shutting the door behind us, I taped a loose sheet over it. I helped my grandparents put on their gas masks and strapped on mine.

The whole time, my commander, Brig. Gen. Nachman Shai, guided and informed us through the airwaves. The Iraqis, Shai said, fired Scuds at greater Tel Aviv and Haifa. He ordered us to stay in the “safe rooms” until the IDF could determine if any of the Russian-made missiles carried chemical or biological warheads. He spoke in a cool, clear voice. He was authoritative yet warm, informative yet honest about knowledge gaps, factual yet folksy. He urged us to remain calm and breathe steadily.

Shai unsealed the rooms, so to speak, after an hour, informing us that none of the eight Scuds that struck Israel were packed with chemical or biological agents. He encouraged us to drink water. Although this attack caused little damage — destroying several buildings but only slightly injuring seven people — it stressed everyone out, increasing the country’s mortality rate by 58 percent that day, according to a 1995 study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association.

Thirty hours later, Hussein fired a couple more Scuds at Israel. This time, I was on duty, helping provide the information my commander needed to instruct the nation. The mortality rate, according to the 1995 study, returned to pre-Desert Storm levels and stayed there through the war’s final five weeks. I believe several factors contributed to that, including humanity’s natural agility and resiliency, but I have no doubt that Shai’s comforting guidance helped.

By the time the first Iraq War concluded on February 28, 1991, Iraq had launched more than 40 Scuds at Israel. They all carried conventional warheads, killed two people, and indirectly caused four fatal heart attacks and seven asphyxiations. They also injured more than 200 people and destroyed thousands of buildings. The “Butcher of Bagdad” attacked Israel to try to break up America’s 35-country coalition, which included several sworn enemies of the Jewish state. He knew that an IDF retaliation would force Syria, Saudi Arabia and others out of the coalition.

But Israel resisted the bait, heeding the United States’ request to remain on the sidelines. The IDF officially activated only two units: the one tasked with checking the Scuds for chemical or biological agents and the spokesperson’s. I went from chocolate soldier to essential officer. In the process, I picked up a few life lessons.

I went from chocolate soldier to essential officer.

Now, as I reflect on the 30-year anniversary of the Scud attacks, I sense that some of those lessons could apply to the current crisis ravaging the United States — the coronavirus pandemic. I propose that America:

1. 1. Appoint someone like Nachman Shai as the national COVID-19 spokesperson. We need someone who’s authoritative yet warm, informative yet honest about knowledge gaps, and factual yet folksy to provide daily public updates. With all due respect to Dr. Anthony Fauci and New York Governor Andrew Cuomo, we should avoid picking a doctor or a politician, who would always be suspect to partisan segments of the country. Instead, we should turn to a bipartisan, respected, professional communicator who can synthesize relevant, complex, ever-changing info and guidelines in real time. This would simplify and amplify the messages that we should all be hearing and heeding.
   2. Operate off facts. During the first Iraq War, Israelis disagreed on many issues, such as whether to strike back, but they rarely, if ever, disputed the cold, hard truth. No one labeled the Scud reports “fake news.” Silicon Valley and other parts of the private sector should create a program to award grants to independent, neutral news operations around the county and to nonprofit, nonpartisan fact-checking and fact-generating efforts. A consistent stream of reliable, accurate information through popular channels such as websites, the airwaves and, yes, even social media is crucial to combatting COVID-19.
   3. Have the U.S. military or major companies provide meaningful assistance to the  government. The IDF has helped the Jewish state manage COVID-19 from the start, and the county has already vaccinated more than 20% of its population — the fastest pace on the planet. Since the pandemic hit, the Israeli military’s Alon Coronavirus Task Force has conducted tens of thousands of daily tests and contact-traced thousands of people on a weekly basis. It recently assigned 700 reserve paramedics to boost the inoculation effort. Let’s task America’s soldiers with distributing and helping to administer the vaccines and supporting the maxed-out health care system. The governors of California, Oregon and Arkansas have already activated some of their National Guard troops. We should also tap the innovative and logistical prowess of companies such as Amazon and Honeywell, the latter of which has stepped up to assist North Carolina vaccinate its residents.
   4. Revise best practices based on the latest research. Thirty years ago, upon hearing the “viper” alarm, Israelis should have sprinted to bomb shelters instead of sealed rooms. In the United States, we should have been wearing masks when the crisis started. It’s not too late to make this and future adjustments as we learn more and more about COVID-19. We should express gratitude, not frustration, that almost every day we hear something new about this pesky virus.
   5. Formulate and implement a multidisciplinary medical effort to research and address COVID-19’s long-term effects. The virus’ elevation of our overall mortality rate may last decades, according to Duke, Harvard and Johns Hopkins researchers. In the next 15 years, they foresee a 3% increase in diseases such as hypertension, causing the death of 890,000 Americans. The multidisciplinary effort should aim to reduce the virus’ collateral damage by preventing and treating the expected health fallout.

During the first Iraq War, I learned that, if given the opportunity, almost every soldier (i.e., worker) can become essential. Let’s keep this in mind as we enter the next, crucial stage of our COVID-19 response. We all can do our part to save lives.

An award-winning nonfiction storyteller, Boaz Dvir is the author of “Saving Israel: The Unknown Story of Smuggling Weapons and Winning a Nation’s Independence” (Rowman & Littlefield, 2020) and an assistant professor of journalism at Penn State University.