Thursday March 5, 2009
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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.
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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
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