General Charles Krulak (USMC, retired) had this story to tell about his experience in the Gulf War in 1991:

There is a precious commodity in the Middle East. It's been fought over for hundreds of years. Christians fought for it, Muslims fought for it, nation states swept across the Arabian Peninsula and fought for it. And during the Desert Storm War, this commodity was critical to both the Iraqi army and the United States forces. Oil? No. Water.

Here was the ground scheme of maneuver of the United States Marine Corps during Desert Storm. We were to assault up the Saudi Arabian coast with the Persian Gulf on our right into southern Kuwait, push through the minefields in southern Kuwait, and capture Kuwait City. To effect the movement of eighty thousand Marines up that coast we had to build a logistics support base. We built that base at a location called Kabrit, 30 kilometers south of Kuwait and 30 kilometers in from the Persian Gulf. We picked Kabrit because it was an old airfield that had water wells that provided one hundred thousand gallons of water a day. The United States Marine Corps was going to need that much water on a daily basis to carry its forces into Kuwait.

Fourteen days before the war began, General Norman Schwarzkopf, commander-in-chief of the central command, decided to make a daring move, called the "great left hook." It was a sweep of forces—instead of right up the gully, so to speak—a flanking of the Iraqi army. That forced the Marine Corps to move 140 kilometers to the northwest and locate a new logistic space at a place called the Gravel Plains.

There was no water at the Gravel Plains. For 14 days we had engineers digging desperately to find water. We went to the Saudi government and asked them if they knew of any water in this area, and their answer was no. We brought the exiled Kuwaiti government down to our command post and pored over maps and asked them, "Do you know if there's any water in this area?" They said no. We went to the Bedouin tribes and the nomads, the people who lived in that area, and said, "Do you know where there's water on the Gravel Plain?" They said, "No, there's no water there." We kept digging wells hundreds of feet deep—to no avail.

In 1976, I became a Christian and every morning at 7:15 since that day I've held devotions. During this 14-day period, I obviously asked the Lord to help us with this need for water.

Finally on the Sunday before we were to go into Kuwait I was in a tent where we were holding a chapel service and were praying for water when a colonel came to the tent and asked to see me. I went outside and he said, "General, I need to show you something."

We got in his vehicle and drove down a road we had built through the desert from the Gravel Plains to the border of Kuwait. I had driven down that road at least 70 times. Over sixty thousand Marines had passed down that road. We drove about a mile down that road, and the officer said, "Look over there." About 20 yards off the road was a tower that reached 15 feet into the air. It was a white tower, and at the top of the tower was a cross. Coming off of the ends of the cross were canvas sleeves—sleeves used in old train stations to put water into train engines. At the base of that cross was an eight-foot-high pump newly painted red. Beside that pump was a diesel engine. Beside the diesel engine were four batteries still in their plastic. It was a diesel engine. The United States military in Desert Storm did not use diesel fuel. We had no diesel fuel. But beside this engine was a 500 gallon tank filled with diesel fuel.

On the engine was an "on" button and an "off" button, and between those two buttons was a keyhole. I asked the officer, "Has anybody seen the key?" He said, "Sir, there is no key."

I pushed the "on" button, and the engine kicked over immediately. I called one of my engineers and said, "I want you to test the flow coming out of these pipes." In my heart I knew what his answer was going to be. An hour later he said, "Sir, it is putting out one hundred thousand gallons a day."

I went back to the well five days later. The wind and sand had sandblasted the new paint off. A reporter from the London Times wrote an article that made the front page, entitled "The Miracle Well."