For the soldier it mostly starts with trying to provide for the family. After that, it's about watching your brother's back; getting home alive. It helps us but it's not about us. We can be thankful that they have the courage to stay and keep their word. All of us have a hero and a coward inside of us. See yourself in every soldier and thank God for their choices.
The following posts will be excerpts from my 2009 Afghanistan journal. I spent 90 days there; not long really, but it changed me. Now I’m less about what I do and more about living with my eyes open.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
The Trip Over
Monday February 23, 2009
2:05 pm (est.) - I’m taking off from Charlotte North Carolina, aboard a small regional US Air jet. I have a little bit of a buzz from the beers (5) I drank with Doc. I almost didn’t make it… US Air wanted $65 to fly my sea bag. I had to call back to the San Diego office to have them pay for the bags. I borrowed $100 from Doc to pay for the visa fee and cab ride in Qatar. I have about $35 of my own for food and such. I hate being so broke.
10:00 pm – I am about to board the Qatar Airlines plane. That sucker is huge.
Tuesday February 24, 2009
12:30 am (est.) – They are serving dinner aboard the plane; no meat so it’s veggies and rice or shrimp and rice. I took the shrimp. This plane is very nice. The Philipino stewardess’ are very pretty. And the service is great. 11 more hours (12hrs 40 mins total) to go.
06:30 pm (local Qatar) – We flew through sun-up and sundown. Everything is clean and well organized but dusty. A guy in a robe and rag hat directed us to immigration. I had to pay $34 visa fee. The woman seemed perturbed that I didn’t have a credit card to pay with. (I did but the card was maxed out) She sent me to a window to pay cash. The teller took $40 US dollars from me and gave me back 2 tens of what ever they call their money.
07:00 pm - I’m through customs and immigration and worn out. That damn sea bag and duffle bag kicked my ass. Outside, a driver comes up to me and says “Army Camp?” (That’s what they call the air force base here) I say yes thinking he’s a cab driver. As the guy starts to grab my bag, a British guy turns to me and says, “Better take the shuttle cab. That guy there will charge you $100 for a limousine.” I pull the bag back and say “Where?” He points to a line of Dodge Caravans about 20 yards away. “Thanks” I say and think “Shit.” I can see the headline now, “American dies of heart attack in Qatar Airport.” Thinking back, that was nothing. I was about to get a real ass kicker walking through security at the airbase.
30 minutes later the cabbie dropped me off at the gate to the airbase. I tip him the Qatar money they gave me at the airport and his eyes fly wide open. “Thank you very much!” he says. I just figured it was useless to me so I may as well dump it on him. I still have no idea how much it was. If the immigration visa was $34, it can’t be too much.
I carry my stuff to the gate where two Qatar military guys are standing. They check my ID and point to an American check point about 20 yards away. “Fuck” When I get there a cute female airman (who couldn’t be more than 20) is holding an M-16 and shifting slowly back and forth. I swear she’s looking at me with a serious frown. I try not to huff and puff from carrying my bags. I may be old but I still have some fantasies about cute young 20 something females. She checks my papers and ID and points to a checkpoint 300 yards away. Stalling, I ask, “Where can I get a shuttle to the PAX terminal?” They’ll call one for you when you get there” she says. I carry my bags a few feet before I realize I need to rearrange them. I put on the back pack, sling the sea bag across my shoulders and start humping toward the checkpoint.
Ten minutes later, I’m approaching the checkpoint. I’m tired but I don’t feel too bad. I drop my bags and ask the air force guards about a shuttle. They say they’ll call one and direct me to the waiting lounge in the nearby building. I ask “I’m sweating my ass off. Do you mind if I stay out here and cool off.” It was about 68 degrees with a slight breeze. “Sure” he says, “but you’ll have to go inside once we begin searching these vehicles.” “Thanks” I say. After about ten minutes I’m a little cooler so I go inside the lounge. It’s stuffy and warm inside and I don’t last long before I go outside again.
After about ten minutes, a shuttle van comes to pick me and another civilian up. Ten minutes later we are at the PAX terminal. I check in and get on the list for a 2 am flight to Bagram. I ask about chow and the air force guy tells me to go across the street to the “Grab and Go.” The place is about the size of a small construction trailer. The front section has a counter with pre-made sandwiches, chips and drinks. I ask for a turkey sandwich, chips and water.
2 am and I’m on a C-130 headed for Bagram. We are packed in sitting on net chairs knee to knee. It’s uncomfortable as hell and I can barely walk 4 hours later when we land. Alfonso, Pat and Jason come and pick me up at the PAX terminal. It takes about an hour to locate my gear but I’m still missing the chemical gear they issued me at El Udide air base. It showed up a few days later.
In Country
Thursday March 5, 2009
 |
That fence is the base boundary. I took this picture from the steps of my “Hooch.” |
Today has been a weird day. Nothing moves fast here. I needed to go to the office to do some paperwork, but no one here starts stirring out of bed before 9 am. I went to the TMDE office to check on a meter calibration then to the office again but no one was there. I finally got in touch with the secretary/admin assistant just before dinner and got the meter I needed to send to a Forward Operating Base (FOB).
8:15 pm local (10:40 am est.) I hear and feel a loud boom. It’s close but not on top of us. We go outside to look and hear a hiss as another RPG flew overhead toward the Joint Operations Center (JOC). They announce an AMBER ALERT which means we have to do 100% personnel accountability and take shelter. A soldier instructs us to get in Battle gear and take cover however; the Major in the hunt next to US says it’s unlikely there will be additional fire. The jets and choppers have rushed out to find who fired the rockets. An ex Army guy in our group says they are probably gone; that the rockets were probably set by timer to go off. We find out a few days later that 2 rockets actually fell near us short of the fence about one hundred yards. The third landed near the JOC but didn’t damage anything important or hurt anyone.
Saturday March 7, 2009
I completed the records review today. We have records back to 2004 but no records for the last year. I’ll have to reconstruct them from other sources. The Field Service Engineers have most of the training records. I’ll call them in and compile them. The new Army guy arrives in June. I need to get this program on its feet before then.
We had a steak cook-out this evening. Apparently these guys are in tight with the Special Forces guys in Kabul. Our guys usually stay with them and do cooking duty when we’re in Kabul. Our Engineers “appropriated” a commercial grill. Since then the SF guys don’t have to go to the DFAC – the chow hall. I have no idea what DFAC stands for. Anyway, we cooked up a bunch of steaks and played spades until after dark. I met a New Zealand soldier named Phil. We chatted and I mentioned that I was eligible to join the Army National Guard medical corps via a direct commission but thought better of it. He said “Yeah I guess so. Who’d want to go from being King of the shit to shit of the Kings?” I laughed, but he was right. I’d never had it put so succinctly before. I went back to my room while they went to a covert watering hole to have drinks.
Wednesday March 11, 2009
Things I’ve noticed about this place:
- The bath rooms are double stacked cargo vans (sea-land) with the latrine on the first floor and shower on the second floor and they are located about hundred yards from our “B-hunt.”
- The Egyptian hospital compound next door wakes me up every morning at 4am with their religious singing over the loudspeakers. They do that 5 times per day.
- It looks and feels so much like Colorado (without trees) here it’s scary
- Dust is everywhere; it collects in our quarters, on our stuff and hangs in the air 24 hours per day (except when it rains.)
- I don’t trust the Afghans that work on base. I don’t think most other people do either. They are too “handsy”. They hold hands and often gesture with their hands when they speak. They smell different; Sometimes just sweat; Sometimes something else; Sometimes both.
- The internet service is so slow and so unreliable that they should stop calling it a “service.”
- I miss the States.
- Most people keep to themselves. They don’t ask questions or start conversations with strangers. This definitely isn’t a “village.”
- Large groups of people wear cargo pants, golf shirts and a ball cap.
Email to family and friends -
The link below is a YouTube clip about Afghanistan
We used to go here until the system we sold them got blown up. Two of our guys left there a week before this news crew showed up. Jim Enemy combatants for U.S. troops are on the rise in Afghanistan. Lara Logan reports from a forward operating base near Pakistan.) Reply from John: Hey Jim. I saw this when it was on 60 Minutes. Keep your eyes open....prefer to drink cold cervasa with you....not over you. Be safe Dude. Let me know if you need anything...winter gear...warm socks...WD40...whatever you guys need. I just need your AP address. Love Ya _____ My reply: Thanks John. As usual, nothing I was told about this place or my role here is true. I can't get into it here (international email) but it reminds me of Vietnam; lots of dedicated people working with rules of engagement designed to lose by. Where I'm at is like kiddy camp, mostly. In the next day of two I'll move to one of our forward operating bases to do an assessment but I already know what I'll find. The Army has alot of good people but operates weird. They simply ignore shit they don't understand and deal with the shit that they do understand. This sure as hell isn't the Navy :-) Jim _____ |
Reply from Ellie:
Okay...so I now I feel really good about you being in Afghanistan!
Maybe this is a little too much information! :)
Do you have to go to these outposts?
Ellie
Maybe this is a little too much information! :)
Do you have to go to these outposts?
Ellie
_____
My Reply:
I have to go to all of them. I'll be careful... REALLY.
Friday March 13, 2009
Today I flew to Salerno. We arrived at 3am Saturday morning. The C-130 never powered down. They quickly unloaded three pallets of mail and supplies then ushered us off the plane into the darkness and onto the rock covered runway. The first thing I noticed was that every external light in camp was off; every window was blacked out. We scampered off the flight line to the waiting PAX terminal. Matt, the Lead Field Service Engineer in camp was there to pick us up. The lights of the big International 5 ton truck he drove were taped over with red tape. They cast an eerie glow on the dirt road as we drove to our barracks; a single floor 50 by 150 ft building with no windows. We settled in and crashed for some needed sleep.
Saturday March 14, 2009
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Salerno |
This place looks very stark in the morning daylight but it has all the conveniences; chow hall (DFAC), PX, barber shop, coffee shop, gym and post office. We finished our work in about an hour than went to chow.
Tonight I stepped out to go to the porta-john and was immediately immersed in complete pitch black. My eyes were blinded from the light in the barracks. I reached for my flashlight but thought better of it since it was white light. I covered it with my hand and turned it on so just a small speck shown to barely light the rocks before me.
“Fuck!” I cursed, “It’s black out here.” That made a guy I didn’t know was there chuckle. He flashed me a quick blue speck of light a few feet away from me to let me know where he was. “Watch this” I said, “Blind man walking.” He chuckled again. By the time I went to the porta-john and back my eyes had adjusted. I waived at him as I went by feeling more than seeing his knowing smile.
Monday March 15, 2009
Today we hooked a ride on a Chinook to Sharana FOB. It stopped for a few minutes at Orgun-E FOB to pick up two pallets of insulation. We arrived at Sharana about 8am and humped down a ravine over to the PAX terminal.
We asked about flights to Bagram and the female soldier told us to stay put that they’d have roll call for a flight in 2 minutes. “Orders and ID card” she stated with her hand out. As she signed us up for the flight she asked us the purpose of our travel. We said “mission.” They are taught not to question that.
“So what do you do?” she asked as she typed our information in the computer. Mike looked at me with a questioning look not sure of what to say. “We inspect chow halls” I answered, “a fun job.” “Doesn’t sound fun to me” she said. Is that what you really do?” “Absolutely!” I said smiling back at her. “Intelligence” she muttered smiling as she finished typing. Mike and I let it hang without correcting her. We aren’t supposed to tell people about the special equipment we have in Afghanistan.
An hour later they muster seven of us into the cargo yard to load our bags. From there we walked out to the flight line following the fork lift that had our luggage. We helped load our bags onto a small non military Swiss made twin prop plane that looked like a miniature C-130. The pilots had casually walked over to another non military plane to chat before returning to us. They were private contractors in their early to mid forties casually dressed in khakis. They worked for a company formerly known as “Blackwater.” They smiled and told us to “load up.” I crouched down to enter the door forward of the prop and sat in a single seat on the left side of the plane.
The first officer casually briefed us, joking with us as he did, then hopped into the right seat. We watched as he and the pilot went through a short checklist, powered up and promptly taxied and took off.
I looked around the plane and discovered that it had a parachute jump line running down the right side of the craft and could be quickly configured to hold 8-12 jumpers if the rear ramp were opened in flight. I smiled to myself and spent the rest of the 40 minute trip with my nose glued to the window watching Afghanistan pass below us.
 |
Afghanistan countryside. |
Tuesday March 17, 2009
St. Patrick's Day [USA]
(email to my siblings)
Dear Pattie and John,
Well I've been here almost a month and gone through the full range of emotions. Mostly I've hated it and the list of things I don't have that I'm used to having; but there are moments or even just seconds of occasional clarity when I know this is exactly where I'm supposed to be right now. I've started to travel around to the forward operating bases. It's a pain in the ass and we have to be very careful, but standing in pitch darkness looking at the stars as they crowd the skies is a nearly perfect moment. I haven't seen such a thing since we were kids and almost no lights intruded on the starlight.
I put in my private area of Facebook, a picture of a young soldier sitting on the tail gate of our Chinook looking for enemy fire coming our direction. He’s a 22 year old kid; strong, articulate, very likeable, and professional. When I look at him calmly sitting there with an M16 doing his job I get choked up. I wish our country could see him and our troops in action the way I get to. It’s one of those moments I spoke of.
I’ll have a good cry in my beer when I get home.
Love ya,
Jim
Seeing The Sights & The Road Back
Saturday March 21, 2009
(Facebook message between my daughter Morgan and me)
I'm flying out tonight to visit a couple of forward operating bases so you may not hear from me for a while. Love ya always, Dad.
♥ love you daddy ♥ Morgan
I love you to sweetheart. I'm away from the base for a while so I'm not on here much. I'll chat with you soon, Dad
Wednesday March 25, 2009
Yesterday I trained four of the NCOs. Without that, they would not be able enter the control area to supervise their troops. I had to conduct the class after hours (1800) since they were all busy during the day.
Today I went to the front gate (ECP) to look around and watch the trainees. An Afghan interpreter was there. He asked me if I wanted tea but I pretended not to hear him. When I looked at him he asked me again. I said “No thank you.” We started chatting. He asked me what I thought of his country. I told him it was very beautiful like my home in Colorado. He was pleased and said “Thank you” with a big smile on his face. I told him his country is a jewel. Then I said “It’s a shame that some of the people cannot live peacefully. America doesn’t want to be here. If we could be sure that people from here would no longer attack America, we would leave.” He just smiled but I don’t think he believed that. I asked him what language the locals speak. He said “Pashtu.” I told him I’d like to lean Pashtu but I think he thought I said that I knew Pashtu. He said excitedly, “I spoke to you three times in Pashtu. Why didn’t you answer? I lied pointing to my right ear and said “I don’t hear well.” Oh I’m sorry he said sincerely.
I asked him if he was from around here and he said he was from about 60 miles north. We talked about the walls around the houses nearby. He said they were for privacy to hide their women and for protection. He asked me how long I’ve been here. I answered, “Not long. I just came here to look.” Then he asked me what my job was. I answered “To look.” “Ah, Interrogator” he said. I didn’t correct him. I’m not supposed to talk about what I do, especially to local nationals.
Just got your picture...I don't check this account everyday so sorry for the late response.
Hope everything is going well. If you send me your address, I'll send you some goodies....got bocu books...SSN was a good one...a little too close to home for some of the sub drivers...we have enough problems with the Russian diesel electric boats without giving tactics away. China and Iran have both purchased these boats and they are very quiet.
Hi Joe,
Since today is Easter, a holiday, I thought it was appropriate to tell you about the "spirit" of the project. The question probably crossed your mind, "Why?" Why 76 acres? Why so remote?
Well my family has been nomads since we arrived here from Ireland two generations ago. We are spread all over the United States. What would happen if something went wrong? Well this project and this house will be a safe haven for my family and the generations to come. It is named after the movie and book Brigadoon. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brigadoon It’s a place to come and survive well if the world turns to crap for anyone in my family.
Given that spirit, I’ve purchased a huge coat-of-arms complete with shield and swords to be placed in the foyer of the house. The house itself must be able to keep my family safe even if the lights go out, the power grid drops offline, the propane supplies cease for whatever reason or there is no fire wood to heat the home. That’s why I’ve place so much emphasis on radiant geothermal heat, on efficiency, on stability. This home must survive me as my legacy to the Family.
Happy Easter Joe. I wish you all the love and luck for you and your family on this holiday.
Sincerely,
Jim
(note: Joe went out of business shortly after I returned to The USA)
Today I went to the front gate (ECP) to look around and watch the trainees. An Afghan interpreter was there. He asked me if I wanted tea but I pretended not to hear him. When I looked at him he asked me again. I said “No thank you.” We started chatting. He asked me what I thought of his country. I told him it was very beautiful like my home in Colorado. He was pleased and said “Thank you” with a big smile on his face. I told him his country is a jewel. Then I said “It’s a shame that some of the people cannot live peacefully. America doesn’t want to be here. If we could be sure that people from here would no longer attack America, we would leave.” He just smiled but I don’t think he believed that. I asked him what language the locals speak. He said “Pashtu.” I told him I’d like to lean Pashtu but I think he thought I said that I knew Pashtu. He said excitedly, “I spoke to you three times in Pashtu. Why didn’t you answer? I lied pointing to my right ear and said “I don’t hear well.” Oh I’m sorry he said sincerely.
I asked him if he was from around here and he said he was from about 60 miles north. We talked about the walls around the houses nearby. He said they were for privacy to hide their women and for protection. He asked me how long I’ve been here. I answered, “Not long. I just came here to look.” Then he asked me what my job was. I answered “To look.” “Ah, Interrogator” he said. I didn’t correct him. I’m not supposed to talk about what I do, especially to local nationals.
Thursday March 26, 2009
Yesterday I flew into FOB Orgun-E from FOB Sharana. I’d been in Sharana helping to train the new crew that flew in 2 weeks before. I stayed in a tent with three other guys in our crew, an Army Captain and his interpretor and a group of “jingle pilots.” That’s what they call the helicopter pilots that fly for Afghanistan. They are mostly Turkish and Russian with a few Afghans included in the mix. There was some tension between us. Americans don’t like them because they smell like sweat and alcohol and won’t speak English, even if they know how.
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"Jingle Air" |
I’m allergic as hell to something up here (7500 feet above sea level) and my nose is running like a faucet. I took some antihistamine and an Actifed to dry it up. Now I’m just waiting for it to take effect.
11:30 am – I finished lunch and stopped by the HLZ to check on out-bound flights to Salerno. The HLZ NCO said there was a flight waiting to go but was on weather hold until 1300. He told me to check back then. As we were walking out I noticed that his crew had chem-lights dumped on the floor to count and sort. I asked him “What does it take to get a couple of those chem-lights?”
He thought about it then reached down, grabbed four blue ones and handed them to me. “Thanks” I said. “These will come in handy.” Later when I returned to check on the weather hold, I gave him a new pair of safety sun glasses. He said “What have we got here?” “Nothing special. Just a pair of sun glasses to show my appreciation.” “Thanks again” he replied. Just let me know if you need anymore. We don’t use them much around here.” “Well I use the hell out of them” I replied. Some bases only have porta-Johns and a chem-light helps keep things clean; If you know what I mean?”
8:32 pm - its 12:03 pm on the east coast of the United States. The FOB is firing artillery over the mountain toward one of our COBs. I don’t know the exact meaning of COB but its small camp about 5-10 miles over the mountains from where we are. It just started raining and thundering. I hope the rain makes it too miserable for the Hodgies to continue attacking our COB. I’m watching Apollo 13 the movie. When that happened I think I was in eighth grade in Groton Connecticut.
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The COB and Pakistan is over that mountain |
Friday March 27, 2009
I’m in Selarno now. It was about the only thing flying today. All other destinations in Southern Afghanistan are socked in due to weather; mostly rain and sleet. As I was getting settled in, I began to think about a 36 year old woman that I was dating when I left the states. It wasn’t serious, mostly sex and my pay check (she liked that I had a decent job). She pulled away from me when I told her that I was going to Afghanistan. She said that “it’s like you are dying or something.” I guess that means no future for us, at least not the immediate future. I understand how she feels. I see that a lot out here; Girl friends and wives dumping guys in favor of a steady partner to sleep and live with. My mother waited 4 years for my Dad to return from World War II. I wonder what happened to that kind of love and loyalty. Have we really changed that much?
Are we really that shallow? America is my home and I love her, but it’s people don’t have a clue. They blindly live out their lives believing that “Heroes” new episode matters. I guess it’s that naiveté that makes her the country that I love.
We had Steak and lobster tonight at the chow hall. I appreciate the gesture, but cooking that much food at once takes the flavor out of it.
9:20 pm - Mortars just flew in. Got to go
9:30pm – It’s already over. It was just three rounds. The Apaches are up and looking but probably won’t find anything. Things are heating up all over the country. Two reasons: 1st - New brigades just rotated in and the Hodgies will test them until they know what they can get away with. 2nd – it’s getting warmer.
It’s strange. The attack was surreal. We listened and went back to what we were doing when we figured out that they dropped 100 or so yards away. Tonight I’ll sleep in my clothes. I guess in that way the Hodgies scored a small victory.
Monday March 30, 2009
(email)
Dear Patty and John,
I've attached a picture from a small FOB I just got back from. It's a reminder to me that as calm as everything seems most of the time, this isn't a game.
Yesterday I caught a Blackwater flight back to Bagram. It was a lucky break since I was 50th on the waiting list. The small Swiss plane the Blackwater pilots fly dropped onto the runway unannounced with a load of mail.
 |
| This a Blackwater plane about to leave Salerno |
All but me and an Army chopper pilot on the waiting list had left the terminal for lunch or other pursuits. I jumped at the chance rushing to get my battle gear on and grab my backpack. You don’t have to wear battle gear on the Blackwater flights but it’s easier to wear it to the plane then carry it. We helped them load/unload mail them hopped aboard. The pilot wanted to fly at 16000 ft instead of skimming the mountains but the chopper pilot and I didn’t have oxygen packs. The pilot chose the lower flight path. We all would have preferred flying higher but there was no other choice.
I had intended to start catching up on paperwork today but I fell dead asleep after lunch and didn’t wake up until 5:30pm. I didn’t realize I was that tired. I’ve spent the last few hours listening to Irish music and reading “SSN” by Tom Clancy. I’ll do laundry later after everyone has gone to bed. There will be fewer people in the laundry tent so I’ll be able to finish quickly.
Before I went out on my trip I had a dream about Dad. I was petting and feeding a yellow lab when he showed up. He looked old and tired; more tired than I ever remember seeing him when he was alive. He was wearing khaki pants and a light flannel shirt. I said, “Dad I just got promoted.” He sadly nodded and said, “I know.” Then I woke up. Like the last dream I had about him, when I woke up I could smell Old Spice and cigarettes. He hasn’t appeared to me since shortly after he died. I put it out of mind and went on the trip south to FOBs near the Pakistan border. I got shelled once but nothing serious. Next week I have to go to another series of bases. One outpost is guarding the Pakistan border. It gets shelled 2-3 times per day. I don’t want to die here. I just want to get on my feet then come home and retire; God willing. I’ll stay in touch as much as possible.
Love ya, Jim
Tuesday March 31, 2009
(email from my sister Patty)
Hi Jim,
Am still in my work out clothes from this morning. Took my old truck in for an inspection, just realized tomorrow is the 31st:) Though it was a good idea as I was driving it the last year the inspection was overdue. Glad you are taking care of yourself, always admired Maverick on tv, do you remember all the old shows? Didn't remember if you did since you are younger.
I went and got my chain saw and scheduled the guy to come and pick up my riding lawnmower for servicing. Lots of engines seem to be having trouble with the "new" gas. It has been raining here since I got back from Canada expect for a day or two here and there. I usually like to get some of the yard work done in the winter because it is not so hot and no mosquitoes but not this year with all the rain. Will just have to try and get a bunch done now that it "appears" to be settling down.
I got a Mac book when I was in Canada. Their dollar is .80 to ours so it was a 20% savings and my computer was driving me nuts. Taking awhile to get used to it but I do like it.
A friend bought one yesterday and so she came over for a couple hours as we went thru some things together.
Guess I should shut this thing off and do a bit of yard work.....I could play with this computer all day and almost have.
Take care please, keep visualizing Colorado.
Love you Jimmy,
Patty
Thursday April 2, 2009
(email from my brother John)
Hey Jim,
Just got your picture...I don't check this account everyday so sorry for the late response.
Hope everything is going well. If you send me your address, I'll send you some goodies....got bocu books...SSN was a good one...a little too close to home for some of the sub drivers...we have enough problems with the Russian diesel electric boats without giving tactics away. China and Iran have both purchased these boats and they are very quiet.
Be Safe...Love Ya
John
John
(my email reply)
Thanks John,
Here's my address. (deleted)
The Army provides nearly everything I need except perhaps generic Aleve. A bottle from Wal-Mart would be very useful to help keep the swelling in my knees down. If you run into any chem-lites those are great for the porta-jons at night when the FOBs are blacked out.
The Army is supposed to be this great new organization with great people; the best ever. Well the people may be the best ever but the system is still screwed up. I wonder what it was like in the 60s & 70s when we were in the military.
There are more Navy personnel here than I expected. The Army doesn't have the large number of high-tech people that the Navy does. With the recent move to more unified commands a lot of sailors get sucked into this ground war. I'm just glad none of our kids are in the military.
Jim
Saturday April 4, 2009
(email from John)
Roger that...we served and didn't know any better...as today you do what you can with what you have...SOS. The old Navy saying..."We've done so much, with so little, for so long, that we can now do anything with nothing"
I'll get some goodies together and post them this week. Let me know if your need anything else. Socks (they didn't have the moisture wicking type in those days), foot powder and WD-40 were hot items for my buddies in Nam. Let me know if your unit needs anything as well.
I'll get some goodies together and post them this week. Let me know if your need anything else. Socks (they didn't have the moisture wicking type in those days), foot powder and WD-40 were hot items for my buddies in Nam. Let me know if your unit needs anything as well.
Love Ya....be safe.
PS You should consider reviving your photo skills...you’re very good at it.
John
PS You should consider reviving your photo skills...you’re very good at it.
John
___
I ordered a coat of arms and ring set today. It was $2000. What the hell? If I ever get a house of my own I’ll put it up. If not I’ll pass it on to Sean. I also ordered my house plans today. What’s that quote, “A poor man can’t hide his money and a rich man is always pleading poverty.” I guess I’m just another cliché.
Monday April 6, 2009
A company will be submitting me for a job in Idaho today. I’m fairly sure that I won’t get it, but it pays the same as being here without having to be here! Yeah! As a wise man once said, “We’ll see.”
Sunday April 12, 2009
(Easter Sunday)
Things I no longer notice:
-The Muslim religious singing coming from the Egyptian compound next door
-The nearby mountains, (most of the time)
-The jet and chopper noise from the air field
-The length of my hair
Everyone is always thinking, waiting, wishing. Most people keep it to themselves; others complain. I avoid the complainers. They just make it more difficult to be here.
The birds here mass along Disney Lane every night near sunset. Thousands of birds fill the few evergreens and others sit on the ledges of buildings along the road. It’s like some strange Alfred Hitchcock movie.
I found out how the main street through the base got its name “Disney Lane”. It’s not some clever geek thing or a statement about the strangeness of Bagram. It was named after a soldier that died early in this war.
Things I miss:
-A shower and toilet in the same building where I live.
-Privacy
-The Sci-Fi Channel and NFL Network
-A decent internet connection
-Grocery stores
-Riding my motorcycle
-The intimacy of sex.
(email to the builder I’m working with to build my house)
Since today is Easter, a holiday, I thought it was appropriate to tell you about the "spirit" of the project. The question probably crossed your mind, "Why?" Why 76 acres? Why so remote?
Well my family has been nomads since we arrived here from Ireland two generations ago. We are spread all over the United States. What would happen if something went wrong? Well this project and this house will be a safe haven for my family and the generations to come. It is named after the movie and book Brigadoon. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brigadoon It’s a place to come and survive well if the world turns to crap for anyone in my family.
Given that spirit, I’ve purchased a huge coat-of-arms complete with shield and swords to be placed in the foyer of the house. The house itself must be able to keep my family safe even if the lights go out, the power grid drops offline, the propane supplies cease for whatever reason or there is no fire wood to heat the home. That’s why I’ve place so much emphasis on radiant geothermal heat, on efficiency, on stability. This home must survive me as my legacy to the Family.
Happy Easter Joe. I wish you all the love and luck for you and your family on this holiday.
Sincerely,
Jim
(note: Joe went out of business shortly after I returned to The USA)
The Road Back
Sunday April 19, 2009
Epilogue, Christmas 2010
(03:00)
This week I flew to Sharana on my way back to FOB Orgun-E. I spent 36 hours in Sharana waiting to catch a chopper to Orgun-E. Friday night after waiting in the dark at the edge of the runway nearly two hours, 2 Chinooks dropped in to get us. They always travel in pairs for security and redundancy. We need to do a training class here in OE to get the new command up and running with the equipment. While I’m here I have to do an OIC briefing. It’s a 15 minute brief/Q&A session with the CO of the FOB informing him of Army regulations and requirements for use of the system. Most Army officers have no background in such matters and need to be briefed to help avoid safety and security problems.
At Sharana they put me up in a tent with 8-10 other guys. Here at OE they give me my own room. It’s a plywood cubicle more like a garden shed then a real room, but by Army war zone standards, it’s practically the Ritz Carleton. I’ve had nothing to do since I arrived here; watching recorded TV shows I brought with me and staying up late to surf the net is the biggest part of my day; and of course, always thinking….
This is a blacked out base also. Tonight on my way to the MWR( The recreation hut) I found a door propped open to the outside. I closed it. I guess it’s been too quiet here for some of these soldiers to appreciate where they are. An open door can be seen up to 20 miles away in the mountains. It can be used as a reference point for Hodgies trying to setup a mortar or rocket launching position in the dark. I’ve been mortared twice in two months. I found out today that a soldier died in the attack in Bagram when I first got here. I don’t want to be a victim of such an attack. If I’m injured or die they’ll be no honor guard, no metals and no ceremony. Just a metal box and customs tag to send me home.
Most of the time everyone, including me uses a small tactical light to illuminate their path at night. It can’t be seen well at a distance but provides enough light to move. I’ve been practicing my night vision. I’ll step out and wait in the dark about 5 minutes. Once my night vision has adapted and I can see shapes under the starlight, I begin walking slowly to my destination. If I come upon someone I flash my tactical light for a second on the ground so they’ll know I’m there. I’ve startled a few soldiers. I’ve been practicing for a few weeks and it really helped when we flew in a few nights ago. I’ve noticed I now walk as quietly as I can whether day or night. I practice with all of my equipment; knife, light, helmet, Armor, gloves, etc., so I can deploy them in the dark with no lights. It’s not that I’m fearful; I just want to be prepared for the unexpected.
(22:00)
I conducted the OIC briefing today. Tomorrow I’ll conduct a training class. Once the class is over I’ll have nothing to do for the next 3 days. That’s when I start thinking. It’s strange, but I surf the internet looking for toys; amplifiers, speakers, DJ equipment; computers to run my business with. There is something about the DJ work that I’m drawn to. Creativity, and acknowledgement; I like that.
During those endless boring hours that fill the days for the deployed military (or their civilian support group) I begin thinking again. I have a suppressed list of things I want, and another list of things I need to accomplish to achieve financial and personal security. The poor boy in me urges me to spend while the rich boy in me says “SAVE”. Wants and needs. In the long hours alone here in Afghanistan the two tend to merge and priorities become lost or hidden. It’s difficult to be completely rational about it, so I’ll be passionate. I swear I’ll stay here as long as it takes to purge myself of the poor boy shit and make my wants irrelevant. Brigadoon must happen and it is up to me alone.
Monday April 20, 2009
(email to John)
Hi John,
Every day I'm here I'm reminded of what I am not; not young - I almost twice the age of almost everyone here; not a soldier - I have eyes and instincts but few combat skills; not bonded - I've always been alone. I've frightened some people, confused or put-off others. I walk around here in the pitch black practicing my night vision skills and walking as quietly as possible even on rocks. I practice with my left hand (I'm right handed) quietly drawing my knife and opening it any where especially in the dark. They won't let me carry a gun, but that's not a problem. Every soldier here carries a firearm and I know who around me has what if push comes to it. I check my supplies, my gear and know where it is in my room/tent with the lights out.
I guess I'm a freak. The kids here don't seem to get it. They leave open lighted doors and windows as if they were safe back in the states. They stomp around in the dark as if they are the only ones out here. I've been here 2 months and been mortared twice. For some of these kids, it's been so quiet they've let their guard down and they think I'm a crazy old man.
One last thing I'm not; I'm not crazy.
I miss you John. I've always missed you.
Love, Jimmy
Tuesday April 21, 2009
(email from John)
You are in one of those places where you have to listen to your inner-self....but you also have to listen to those around you. It may sound curious to you, but I am not bonded either. I do not have one close friend. Carl was my closest friend growing up, but I realized early on that we were on different pages. His family was upset that I did not attend his funeral when he passed last Christmas, but my answer was that I should have come to see him when he was alive. I have always been one step ahead or behind everyone else. I think this is the main reason for my success, a different view of the world....one without judgment or expectation for anyone but myself. It's not that I'm not disappointed at times, but I try not assign "good" or "bad" to different actions...they are just that ...different than what I would do. Helps in not transferring or projecting bad internal images to other people.
I have worked with many special operations guys and the one thing they are is bonded. They have to be to do what they do....protect each other to the death. They have always respected my skills as a diver (not many people on this earth who can look or "feel" a propeller and tell if it will have signature). They have covered my ass (my dive team) cause it was their assignment. These kids have the same responsibility for you. They may not understand what you do...don't have too....but they have to respect your assignment in order to carry out theirs...covering your ass. If you hit most of them in the head with an axe, pussies and mag wheels would fly out. That's what young guys think about. Try to remember and relate. Listen to them, their mortality is an abstract thought....something that happens to someone else. Their nonchalance is a cover for the fear that they are not dealing with. Your perspective is different based on your experience and it can help them deal with their fears.
You have to be aware that we Kennedy's project strength, people feel it when you come into a room. It scares some, pisses off others, that's their problem. Be who you are, but try to help these guys (kids) deal with who they are.....probably very different from the way they really feel. Love ya very much....be good.
John
(email reply to John)
John,
I've always remembered something you said to me when I was a teenager; "Depend on yourself. Everything else is gravy." When alone with my thoughts I'm a teary-eyed sentimentalist that sees mutliple layers in everything, especially old John Wayne movies. In my profession I'm rational to a fault. I see the world as if I'm not really apart of it and can feel shifts before I understand what they are. I've been cold, calm and methodical. Everything I've tried I've been good at but something has been missing. When I made Chief in the Navy I thought "This it it! I've arrived." But I felt empty, so I left. That's happened over and over again until now I'm old, broke and here. My financial and career opportunities are growing rapidly so it won't remain that way. I simply have to stay the course.
I've changed here John. I'm no longer what I do. When I come home I'll eventually retire to my mountain desert house as the old Gringo in my small Colorado village. My house will be grid tied but it won't need the grid to operate. I'll always have a warm house, food (if you like elk meat) and water on the table, and an open door for my family and theirs, especially when they are in need. That's me. That's my purpose in this life. I only hope God will send to me a woman I can love and trust to share it.
In a few days, I may be out of touch for a while. We'll see. I'll write when I can.
Jim
Tuesday April 28, 2009
I gave notice to quit today. I had a long conversation with the project manager Frank and Mike my Iraq counterpart. The program here is screwed up, due mostly to Frank’s mismanagement and he is trying to avoid dealing with the problem. Logistics here are a crucial factor. Nothing moves if the weather is bad, or the pilots even think it may be bad. When a flight does go out, mail and cargo have first priority, military next and lastly civilian contractors. After a prolonged (2-10 days) stretch of nothing flying, people and cargo are stacked up waiting to travel. It can take days or even weeks to get where I need to go.
I have 26 different locations at mostly small FOBs that have our equipment. All of those sites need calibrated equipment and regular change-outs. Each FOB is supposed to handle their own equipment program, submitting a request to Redstone Arsenal for equipment to be sent directly to them. Somehow, my Program Manager has taken over equipment issue for the entire country. Because of the logistics problems, they usually receive an intial issue when we train them and nothing more until they rotate out of the country 12 months later. This is due to a shortage in man-power. Frank pulled my predisessor off his duties and assigned him to do Field Engineer work. With the emphasis on field support, little things like paperwork were mostly ignored. When it was completed, it was done incorrectly and dropped into a pile or piles to be sorted out later. The result, stacks of paperwork that rarely matched reality.
When I arrived, I began setting each FOB up as the program was designed. They were to receive their equipment via mail each quarter. That seemed to make sense since mail moves more reliably than people. It’s the only chance they have to operate as regulations required. Frank saw this as a loss of control. If he controlled equipment issue and use, the Army would be dependent on us to operate and thereby ensure the contract. I didn’t care if the Army was dependant on us, I wanted the program to actually function; to have some chance of success.
I thought about it and decided to go home. I can’t be here in a war zone, deprived of all the comforts of home with no chance of success. Support issues are only a concern to the Army during an inspection and then only if someone is about to fry. When the division deployed they simply ignored the fact that federal law and the Army required them to have an trained officer here to run this program. Without an Army Officer assigned, Frank simply stepped in and took over the Army responsibilities. He gave no thought to the manpower required or that no soldier would take orders from a civilian. The Army simply ignored the Program and Frank. Frank is ex-Army. Most of the guys here are ex-Army. This crap is normal operational procedure to them. To many of them, it makes sense since it’s all they’ve know most of their adult life. Silly me; I actually expected to do my job. The program is dysfunctional and will continue to be so unless or until the Army steps in. We are supposed to support them, not relieve them. I made my report through channels as required. The Army will probably never see a copy The soldiers need this equipment. It will save lives so I won't push the issue. I have to move on. I can’t be responsible for this program.
P.S. My contract required that I give 30 days notice before leaving. I spent the next 30 days trying to clear up or finish paperwork and waiting for my relief to arrive so that I could brief him. I stayed at Bagram airfield. I saw no need to risk flying to a FOB with all the risks that entailed. It was a VERY long 30 days. I ate, worked out and read books. May 24 2009 I finally departed Bagram for Al Udeid Air Force base in Doha, Qatar. I stayed there three days before catching a 22 hour flight to Houston Texas. I missed my connecting flight to South Carolina and had to stay over-night at a Hotel. I arrived back in South Carolina May 28, 2009 almost exactly three months after I departed. Looking back, I realize that I should not have gone to Afghanistan. It would be easier to believe that we need to be there. As of September 2009, they were still trying to get someone to go to Afghanistan as my replacement.
Epilogue, Christmas 2010
The conversation ended when neither one of us could bear to say another word for fear of exposing more than we wished to share. Life is a paradox. We learn to be happy and sad and not make it mean too much. God blessed us with love, laughter and crying. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Tourists like me walk through a war zone and are immediately shaken to their core. Workers walk through and focus on the money or their career. Soldiers run or crawl through and thank God for state-side leave. Years later we see each other and share a moment of recognition; almost like escaped convicts.
Sincerely, Jim Kennedy
[end of input]
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