Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Update
For more military adventures with Al, please check out my Horn of Africa deployment at http://al-hornofafrica.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
The End
I did a word count, and this blog comes in at 16,654 words. If you read the entire blog, THANK YOU for following me on my adventurous journeys to, thru and from Afghanistan. This blog proved to be a cathartic outlet for me during my entire journey. While I stayed positive on the many events that I covered, the reality is that were many days that were highly stressful or frustrating for us. But, alas we are now in a place where people get fired for writing about too much on their weblogs. So, while I consider this blog of my tour to be very real it is also a self-censored one in which significant components must be left out for either OPSEC or professional career reasons. Still, this journal provides the reader with a very good glimpse into the life of an American airman and his service contributions within a foreign war zone.
The Numbers
A numbers count of events during my tour:
0 – Number of days off
2 – Deployments in my career (Operation Desert Storm in Kuwait and Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan)
3 – Medals earned (Air Force Expeditionary with gold border, Global War on Terrorism and Afghanistan Campaign)
4 – Rocket Mortar attacks
5 – Countries visited
11.5 – Hours Afghanistan time zone is ahead of California time zone
16 – Hours per day I averaged at work
17 – Soldiers killed in Afghanistan during my stay
20 – Combat Rescue saves we achieved during September
49 – Days in Afghanistan
55 – Days on this OEF deployment
One last point – during my tour, 17 fellow Americans did not make the journey home alive from Afghanistan. I am grateful to have served, yet also count my blessings that I am still here to write about this dangerous adventure. I have done my duty for our country by serving in the two great wars of my generation – Operation Desert Storm in Kuwait and Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan. It is now time to hang up the hat, enjoy life a little and let the next generation take over the reins. To each one of my readers – let’s get together over the next few weeks and celebrate!
The Numbers
A numbers count of events during my tour:
0 – Number of days off
2 – Deployments in my career (Operation Desert Storm in Kuwait and Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan)
3 – Medals earned (Air Force Expeditionary with gold border, Global War on Terrorism and Afghanistan Campaign)
4 – Rocket Mortar attacks
5 – Countries visited
11.5 – Hours Afghanistan time zone is ahead of California time zone
16 – Hours per day I averaged at work
17 – Soldiers killed in Afghanistan during my stay
20 – Combat Rescue saves we achieved during September
49 – Days in Afghanistan
55 – Days on this OEF deployment
One last point – during my tour, 17 fellow Americans did not make the journey home alive from Afghanistan. I am grateful to have served, yet also count my blessings that I am still here to write about this dangerous adventure. I have done my duty for our country by serving in the two great wars of my generation – Operation Desert Storm in Kuwait and Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan. It is now time to hang up the hat, enjoy life a little and let the next generation take over the reins. To each one of my readers – let’s get together over the next few weeks and celebrate!
DAY 55: California, here we come!
Thu, 20 October 2005
We enjoy a nice breakfast in the hotel and the morning starts off great with the warm South Carolina morning. But, I forget that this is Charleston AFB and things immediately start going down the wrong path again. Base transportation cannot support us – or so they say – so we need to get our own taxi to the front gate. Then the aircrew is not due in to arrive until a certain time – without the aircrew to open up the plane, the amount of time required to load the cargo will definitely delay the takeoff. God – I have to go on another rampage regarding the ineptitude of this operation. Finally, someone notifies the aircrew loadmasters to arrive early and we finally start the cargo loading on to the new aircraft. I brief all key personnel on the load plan – the one I developed in submitting for this mission weeks ago. Finally, I think back on how many changes occurred and we are somewhere around Plan P – around 15 changes to the original itinerary!
Riding the Tail
Because of the close proximity of the helicopter’s tail to the C-17 ceiling, one of us has to ride the tail during unloading/loading to ensure it does not scrape the ceiling. For the loading portion, it was my turn and the Charleston crew looked up in amazement as I sat up there. In a bit of a twist, we actually moved faster on the upload and the load was completed in just about one hour. Finally, a retired couple we had talked to in the terminal comes aboard and we buckle down ready for departure.
Homeward Bound
Amazingly, one thing happens right during our stay here in Charleston – we depart EARLY. The flight is uneventful and we arrive home at 1800L. The loadmaster opens the rear ramp and the setting sun glows into our compartment as we taxi on the tarmac. I’m elated to see my home base's big three hangars – what a wonderful sight to behold on our long journey. We download the cargo and by 1930L we’re almost complete. We all need to return to the base in the morning to formally out process and complete the deployment. As we depart, I congratulate each of my load team members on a job well done. My mission is essentially complete and we’re basically done except for some paperwork – woohoo!
Locke’s Birthday
I get a hold of Locke and we have a late dinner at Red Robin’s – it’s his birthday and we have a great celebration! A cool way to cap off a deployment and long journey home…
We enjoy a nice breakfast in the hotel and the morning starts off great with the warm South Carolina morning. But, I forget that this is Charleston AFB and things immediately start going down the wrong path again. Base transportation cannot support us – or so they say – so we need to get our own taxi to the front gate. Then the aircrew is not due in to arrive until a certain time – without the aircrew to open up the plane, the amount of time required to load the cargo will definitely delay the takeoff. God – I have to go on another rampage regarding the ineptitude of this operation. Finally, someone notifies the aircrew loadmasters to arrive early and we finally start the cargo loading on to the new aircraft. I brief all key personnel on the load plan – the one I developed in submitting for this mission weeks ago. Finally, I think back on how many changes occurred and we are somewhere around Plan P – around 15 changes to the original itinerary!
Riding the Tail
Because of the close proximity of the helicopter’s tail to the C-17 ceiling, one of us has to ride the tail during unloading/loading to ensure it does not scrape the ceiling. For the loading portion, it was my turn and the Charleston crew looked up in amazement as I sat up there. In a bit of a twist, we actually moved faster on the upload and the load was completed in just about one hour. Finally, a retired couple we had talked to in the terminal comes aboard and we buckle down ready for departure.
Homeward Bound
Amazingly, one thing happens right during our stay here in Charleston – we depart EARLY. The flight is uneventful and we arrive home at 1800L. The loadmaster opens the rear ramp and the setting sun glows into our compartment as we taxi on the tarmac. I’m elated to see my home base's big three hangars – what a wonderful sight to behold on our long journey. We download the cargo and by 1930L we’re almost complete. We all need to return to the base in the morning to formally out process and complete the deployment. As we depart, I congratulate each of my load team members on a job well done. My mission is essentially complete and we’re basically done except for some paperwork – woohoo!
Locke’s Birthday
I get a hold of Locke and we have a late dinner at Red Robin’s – it’s his birthday and we have a great celebration! A cool way to cap off a deployment and long journey home…
DAY 54: Let’s do the Charleston
Wed, 19 October 2005
0400L – again. This time, it’s just me and I make the call back to base. We’re informed of a 1200L showtime. So, I leave a note on my door and let the folks sleep in. I doze back off and then head for breakfast around 0700L. This hotel is absolutely wonderful. Just as our dinner two nights ago was superb, so was breakfast with both European-styled continental breakfast along with an American-style eggs and sausage/bacon breakfast. I naturally opt for the second version and we all enjoy a leisure breakfast and good conversation. I wish I could tell you more about some of the emergency leave pax – interesting life stories, but their jobs are classified because of the special operations mission.
Past American Icons
The hotel is comprised of several buildings that sit in a complex. I journey outside and soon discover that a mural decorates an end of each building. Each mural was beautifully painted in 2003 and portrays a past American Icon. First one up is Jayne Mansfield. Wow, she is literally spilling out of her bra – those naughty Germans! I walk around and find others including Marilyn Monroe, Neil Armstrong and Ronald Reagan. Interesting collection of building art celebrating our past American culture.
Plans G, H, I, J
Just as plans change, our departure time here has changed seven times. The aircrew that we thought we had lost appears at our hotel and informs us that they will be flying – but there’s a delay. I call back to the base and find out otherwise. Back and forth we go, until I’m informed that we should board the shuttle I had arranged earlier. We pick up some lunch at Subway and Taco Bell and head for the pax terminal. It’s official – the aircrew changed our mission itinerary and we are now heading for Charleston AFB first. I inform the emergency leave pax of the change – it would be best to get off here since Charleston Intl Airport would be just across the runway and they could get flights to their final destinations (Omaha, Austin, Fayetteville, NC). About 1-1/2 hours later, we board the aircraft and – voila – we finally takeoff.
Charleston AFB
When we land at Charleston AFB, things are not looking good. First, there was a miscommunication on putting an aircrew into crew rest to take over this plane during the refueling stop and fly us onward to the Moffett Field. Second, we are informed that it could take DAYS before a new mission is cut for us. Third, we now have to download the entire cargo and change planes. Okay, the chief’s and my blood pressure just zoomed – we contact all parties involved and give them a piece of our mind regarding this poor execution that is screwing up our dedicated mission and pushing numerous delays into this itinerary. Not much use – the system is too big and complex to maneuver at our level, so we depart and bed down for the night at a hotel a few miles off base and cap the night at the local Waffle House.
0400L – again. This time, it’s just me and I make the call back to base. We’re informed of a 1200L showtime. So, I leave a note on my door and let the folks sleep in. I doze back off and then head for breakfast around 0700L. This hotel is absolutely wonderful. Just as our dinner two nights ago was superb, so was breakfast with both European-styled continental breakfast along with an American-style eggs and sausage/bacon breakfast. I naturally opt for the second version and we all enjoy a leisure breakfast and good conversation. I wish I could tell you more about some of the emergency leave pax – interesting life stories, but their jobs are classified because of the special operations mission.
Past American Icons
The hotel is comprised of several buildings that sit in a complex. I journey outside and soon discover that a mural decorates an end of each building. Each mural was beautifully painted in 2003 and portrays a past American Icon. First one up is Jayne Mansfield. Wow, she is literally spilling out of her bra – those naughty Germans! I walk around and find others including Marilyn Monroe, Neil Armstrong and Ronald Reagan. Interesting collection of building art celebrating our past American culture.
Plans G, H, I, J
Just as plans change, our departure time here has changed seven times. The aircrew that we thought we had lost appears at our hotel and informs us that they will be flying – but there’s a delay. I call back to the base and find out otherwise. Back and forth we go, until I’m informed that we should board the shuttle I had arranged earlier. We pick up some lunch at Subway and Taco Bell and head for the pax terminal. It’s official – the aircrew changed our mission itinerary and we are now heading for Charleston AFB first. I inform the emergency leave pax of the change – it would be best to get off here since Charleston Intl Airport would be just across the runway and they could get flights to their final destinations (Omaha, Austin, Fayetteville, NC). About 1-1/2 hours later, we board the aircraft and – voila – we finally takeoff.
Charleston AFB
When we land at Charleston AFB, things are not looking good. First, there was a miscommunication on putting an aircrew into crew rest to take over this plane during the refueling stop and fly us onward to the Moffett Field. Second, we are informed that it could take DAYS before a new mission is cut for us. Third, we now have to download the entire cargo and change planes. Okay, the chief’s and my blood pressure just zoomed – we contact all parties involved and give them a piece of our mind regarding this poor execution that is screwing up our dedicated mission and pushing numerous delays into this itinerary. Not much use – the system is too big and complex to maneuver at our level, so we depart and bed down for the night at a hotel a few miles off base and cap the night at the local Waffle House.
DAY 53: Willkommen to Deutschland
Tue, 18 October 2005
0400L. I’m about to head out when someone knocks on my door. One of the emergency leave pax informs me that the 3 individuals that went carousing last night are not waking up. I stop over at one of the individual’s room – no matter what we tried, the soldier was COMPLETELY passed out drunk. Okay, things are looking bad. The other two have their doors locked. So, I head to the front desk and get the keys. First, we tried to wake each one up – NOT working. I then decide that we’ll bring their luggage down to save time. Next is the tough part – waking up a drunk who may punch. I soak the bathroom towels in cold water and then smother each of their faces. One finally awakens and after a few minutes he is semi-coherent enough that we move on. Second individual is in very bad shape. Eyes open, but no one’s home upstairs. Third individual has key in right hand and is cuddling the blankets. We roll him over and strip the blanket. After a few minutes, he’s also semi-coherent. Back to the second individual…he starts moving, so I lead him down the hall and ensure he’s going for the front door – a total stupor, but in the direction that I need. We finally get on the military transportation at 0435L and depart back for Spangdahlem AB.
Flight Delay
After being in hot Afghanistan for 6 weeks, I forgot that this was October and fall season in the rest of the northern hemisphere. It’s definitely cool and windy here in Germany and this morning proved it. As we arrive back to the Pax Terminal we are informed there is an 8-hour delay due to aircrew non-availability. Basically, we have our plane, our cargo, and our pax – just need someone to drive the plane. So we wait and wait. After 8 hours, the aircrew finally arrives and now Engine #2 has a problem. A part is ordered from Ramstein AB (90 miles away) and is being transferred over for the fix. As the day wears on, we are informed there is a 2200L flying curfew. At 2100L, with no part in sight I recommend that we call it a night. We had waited 16 hours in the Pax Terminal and with one hour left until curfew the likelihood of this plane taking off was about nil – a good call. We are then bused back to the same hotel – only this time the rowdy folks get some needed rest and I make a call to find out the latest status. We are notified that our departure window varies from 0600L tomorrow morning thru two days – we supposedly lost the aircrew and they are now scouring for one to replace them – ugh! An 0400L call is necessary to confirm and I instruct all that I would knock on doors if we need to leave early.
0400L. I’m about to head out when someone knocks on my door. One of the emergency leave pax informs me that the 3 individuals that went carousing last night are not waking up. I stop over at one of the individual’s room – no matter what we tried, the soldier was COMPLETELY passed out drunk. Okay, things are looking bad. The other two have their doors locked. So, I head to the front desk and get the keys. First, we tried to wake each one up – NOT working. I then decide that we’ll bring their luggage down to save time. Next is the tough part – waking up a drunk who may punch. I soak the bathroom towels in cold water and then smother each of their faces. One finally awakens and after a few minutes he is semi-coherent enough that we move on. Second individual is in very bad shape. Eyes open, but no one’s home upstairs. Third individual has key in right hand and is cuddling the blankets. We roll him over and strip the blanket. After a few minutes, he’s also semi-coherent. Back to the second individual…he starts moving, so I lead him down the hall and ensure he’s going for the front door – a total stupor, but in the direction that I need. We finally get on the military transportation at 0435L and depart back for Spangdahlem AB.
Flight Delay
After being in hot Afghanistan for 6 weeks, I forgot that this was October and fall season in the rest of the northern hemisphere. It’s definitely cool and windy here in Germany and this morning proved it. As we arrive back to the Pax Terminal we are informed there is an 8-hour delay due to aircrew non-availability. Basically, we have our plane, our cargo, and our pax – just need someone to drive the plane. So we wait and wait. After 8 hours, the aircrew finally arrives and now Engine #2 has a problem. A part is ordered from Ramstein AB (90 miles away) and is being transferred over for the fix. As the day wears on, we are informed there is a 2200L flying curfew. At 2100L, with no part in sight I recommend that we call it a night. We had waited 16 hours in the Pax Terminal and with one hour left until curfew the likelihood of this plane taking off was about nil – a good call. We are then bused back to the same hotel – only this time the rowdy folks get some needed rest and I make a call to find out the latest status. We are notified that our departure window varies from 0600L tomorrow morning thru two days – we supposedly lost the aircrew and they are now scouring for one to replace them – ugh! An 0400L call is necessary to confirm and I instruct all that I would knock on doors if we need to leave early.
DAY 52: Homeward Bound
Mon, 17 October 2005
Hugs & Kisses
A hearty thank you to the following well wishers during my stay in Kandahar:
Inspiring letters that let me know someone loves me: Sheila P, Lesa B & Rachel and Locke. XOXOXOX
E-mails that put a smile on my face when the days were long: (Family) John T, Locke, Susan H, Sue Y, Dad, Vicki; (Friends) Bob E, John C, Mitch D, Becky T, Rob I, Sally B; (Renegades Buddies) Jerry S, Carolyn M, Corky/Celia, Irina, Christine R, Kathleen R, Big John, Lisa D, Lisa Momeesa, Munson, Robin K, SCVeronica, Ska Jerk/Randy, Todd O, Veronica & Chuck, Vtwintower; and (SGI Coworkers) Aaron B, David S, Hao, Jennifer D, Leslie T, Ron. Thank you all for staying connected with me – it really does mean a lot and I’m so looking forward to reconnecting with you all.
K1 Pax Terminal
Original time for our group to meet was 0100z (0500L). But, we’re all ancy from the previous night’s events and casually assemble one hour early and are ready to roll. We arrive at the Pax Terminal to proceed through Army Customs and then Pax Manifesting. Over the course of the previous couple of weeks, I got to know the Army, Air Force and KBR civilian workers in the Pax Terminal very well while sending home the main rotation package two weeks ago. They ALL harass me in jest – the folks expressed that they all enjoyed working with me given the duress I was under and the stressful situation we were all working with to move our folks from K1 to Manas (refer to Day 41). Wonderful bunch of folks that I respect and will sorely miss.
Homebound Itinerary
Our return itinerary is straightforward. First, a refueling stop in a nearby country, then a 12-hour layover in Spangdahlem AB, Germany. Finally, we get a straight shot home with an aerial refueling during the flight and with a scheduled landing at Moffett Field at noon on Tuesday. This was Plan A. Any changes would be Plan B, C, D, etc. Fingers crossed that Plan A will stick, but given my experience this is highly doubtful.
Pax & Cargo Load
As the ranking military member and troop commander, I’m informed that six additional passengers have requested to board our plane for emergency leave purposes. Since this is a dedicated mission that I initiated, I have the right to accept or refuse these folks – given the available space, I choose to accept. So, now my pax count just doubled to 12. We then start the loading of our cargo. The special cargo that I previously mentioned in other posts is one of our combat rescue helicopters. Can’t say anything more than that, but you now understand the importance of our mission. The New York maintenance crew provides a great assist and everything gets loaded up quickly. Our flight doctor also comes by to say goodbye. We give everyone a good hand shake or hug and then board for takeoff. Wow, can’t believe we’re finally leaving Kandahar!
I think this is the end…
The load plan I submitted weeks ago requested a C-17 for this airlift. This airplane is the newest cargo aircraft in the Air Force inventory and the first time I’ve flown in one. It’s a workhorse – most of the cargo missions coming into theater have utilized this plane for its flexibility and durability. Once we’re strapped in, the plane takes off from K1. But instead of a typical steep climb during takeoff, the aircrew starts a rapid descent and then a sharp right bank. All of our impulses indicated that things are not right and that we were about to crash. But then I look over to the loadmaster and he appears calm. The other pax indicated that they initially panicked but then saw that I was calm (at least on the surface) and stayed alert. After we land, most of us agree that the takeoff was so unnerving we thought it was the end.
Evasive Maneuvers
What we just performed in flight was an evasive maneuver for rocket mortar attacks. Just prior to landing or after takeoff, all aircraft are extremely vulnerable to any ground-based rocket attack. Given the past days events, this threat was VERY real. So, during the approach/takeoff the enemy will attempt to launch a rocket mortar as the aircraft is in its final descent or initial climb path. To throw the enemy off and avoid disaster, all military aircraft will sharply change paths during this flight segment. I observed this once when the rotation package that I sent out two weeks ago did the same maneuver and I got concerned. After we discussed this at the next stop, I then realized that this is a common practice in war zones – however, since the pax were not informed, all of us were on the verge of panic thinking the end was near. Once we passed the initial minute, the rest of the flight proved to be uneventful.
We are all just Cargo Boxes
We land at a country that I cannot mention – apparently, the U.S. government has negotiated refueling rights here for our military planes that the host country insists are for cargo only – and thus my divulgence may compromise this agreement. We are instructed to stay away from the open hatch and stay low and invisible – all of us are technically “cargo boxes” because no military pax is supposed to pass thru this country. The lavatory is right by the hatch – so I instruct each individual that needs to use it to make a straight beeline for the door and to NOT linger. After a 2-1/2 hour refueling stop we take off – however, I can now log this country as another one of my stops on my journeys around the world.
Spangdahlem AB
The next stop is Spangdahlem AB, Germany. If we had left a few days earlier, this route would have taken us thru Rhein-Main AB, Germany. But given the recent closure on 10 October (refer to Day 45), flights now stop over at Spangdahlem AB for refueling. The brand new Pax Terminal opened just 3 days ago and we are only the 6th cargo flight – and most likely the first from Afghanistan – to stop in on this new facility. We arrive in the late evening…as we step onto the brand new tarmac, the setting sun glows on our C-17 while a full moon is up on the other end of the sky. Three of the pax would remain here to catch a commercial flight back to the U.S. and we say farewell. I then call for military transportation and we are transported to a lodging facility miles from the base – in fact, it resides on the former Bitburg AB, about 15 miles from Spangdahlem and very close to the Luxembourg border. What was formerly the Bitburg AB Officer’s Mess is now our hotel – the sign on the outside still has not change after 11 years when the base closed in 1994. After dropping our luggage off in our rooms we then head for the hotel restaurant. The German waitress is spunky – we all order beers and she quickly realizes that I can speak “kleine Deutsche” (a little German). After downing two beers and a wonderful dinner most of us retire for the night. A few guys head out for late night drinking and I inform all that our showtime is 0415L in the lobby. The chief and I then stop at the front desk to ensure that everyone gets a 0345L wake up call.
Hugs & Kisses
A hearty thank you to the following well wishers during my stay in Kandahar:
Inspiring letters that let me know someone loves me: Sheila P, Lesa B & Rachel and Locke. XOXOXOX
E-mails that put a smile on my face when the days were long: (Family) John T, Locke, Susan H, Sue Y, Dad, Vicki; (Friends) Bob E, John C, Mitch D, Becky T, Rob I, Sally B; (Renegades Buddies) Jerry S, Carolyn M, Corky/Celia, Irina, Christine R, Kathleen R, Big John, Lisa D, Lisa Momeesa, Munson, Robin K, SCVeronica, Ska Jerk/Randy, Todd O, Veronica & Chuck, Vtwintower; and (SGI Coworkers) Aaron B, David S, Hao, Jennifer D, Leslie T, Ron. Thank you all for staying connected with me – it really does mean a lot and I’m so looking forward to reconnecting with you all.
K1 Pax Terminal
Original time for our group to meet was 0100z (0500L). But, we’re all ancy from the previous night’s events and casually assemble one hour early and are ready to roll. We arrive at the Pax Terminal to proceed through Army Customs and then Pax Manifesting. Over the course of the previous couple of weeks, I got to know the Army, Air Force and KBR civilian workers in the Pax Terminal very well while sending home the main rotation package two weeks ago. They ALL harass me in jest – the folks expressed that they all enjoyed working with me given the duress I was under and the stressful situation we were all working with to move our folks from K1 to Manas (refer to Day 41). Wonderful bunch of folks that I respect and will sorely miss.
Homebound Itinerary
Our return itinerary is straightforward. First, a refueling stop in a nearby country, then a 12-hour layover in Spangdahlem AB, Germany. Finally, we get a straight shot home with an aerial refueling during the flight and with a scheduled landing at Moffett Field at noon on Tuesday. This was Plan A. Any changes would be Plan B, C, D, etc. Fingers crossed that Plan A will stick, but given my experience this is highly doubtful.
Pax & Cargo Load
As the ranking military member and troop commander, I’m informed that six additional passengers have requested to board our plane for emergency leave purposes. Since this is a dedicated mission that I initiated, I have the right to accept or refuse these folks – given the available space, I choose to accept. So, now my pax count just doubled to 12. We then start the loading of our cargo. The special cargo that I previously mentioned in other posts is one of our combat rescue helicopters. Can’t say anything more than that, but you now understand the importance of our mission. The New York maintenance crew provides a great assist and everything gets loaded up quickly. Our flight doctor also comes by to say goodbye. We give everyone a good hand shake or hug and then board for takeoff. Wow, can’t believe we’re finally leaving Kandahar!
I think this is the end…
The load plan I submitted weeks ago requested a C-17 for this airlift. This airplane is the newest cargo aircraft in the Air Force inventory and the first time I’ve flown in one. It’s a workhorse – most of the cargo missions coming into theater have utilized this plane for its flexibility and durability. Once we’re strapped in, the plane takes off from K1. But instead of a typical steep climb during takeoff, the aircrew starts a rapid descent and then a sharp right bank. All of our impulses indicated that things are not right and that we were about to crash. But then I look over to the loadmaster and he appears calm. The other pax indicated that they initially panicked but then saw that I was calm (at least on the surface) and stayed alert. After we land, most of us agree that the takeoff was so unnerving we thought it was the end.
Evasive Maneuvers
What we just performed in flight was an evasive maneuver for rocket mortar attacks. Just prior to landing or after takeoff, all aircraft are extremely vulnerable to any ground-based rocket attack. Given the past days events, this threat was VERY real. So, during the approach/takeoff the enemy will attempt to launch a rocket mortar as the aircraft is in its final descent or initial climb path. To throw the enemy off and avoid disaster, all military aircraft will sharply change paths during this flight segment. I observed this once when the rotation package that I sent out two weeks ago did the same maneuver and I got concerned. After we discussed this at the next stop, I then realized that this is a common practice in war zones – however, since the pax were not informed, all of us were on the verge of panic thinking the end was near. Once we passed the initial minute, the rest of the flight proved to be uneventful.
We are all just Cargo Boxes
We land at a country that I cannot mention – apparently, the U.S. government has negotiated refueling rights here for our military planes that the host country insists are for cargo only – and thus my divulgence may compromise this agreement. We are instructed to stay away from the open hatch and stay low and invisible – all of us are technically “cargo boxes” because no military pax is supposed to pass thru this country. The lavatory is right by the hatch – so I instruct each individual that needs to use it to make a straight beeline for the door and to NOT linger. After a 2-1/2 hour refueling stop we take off – however, I can now log this country as another one of my stops on my journeys around the world.
Spangdahlem AB
The next stop is Spangdahlem AB, Germany. If we had left a few days earlier, this route would have taken us thru Rhein-Main AB, Germany. But given the recent closure on 10 October (refer to Day 45), flights now stop over at Spangdahlem AB for refueling. The brand new Pax Terminal opened just 3 days ago and we are only the 6th cargo flight – and most likely the first from Afghanistan – to stop in on this new facility. We arrive in the late evening…as we step onto the brand new tarmac, the setting sun glows on our C-17 while a full moon is up on the other end of the sky. Three of the pax would remain here to catch a commercial flight back to the U.S. and we say farewell. I then call for military transportation and we are transported to a lodging facility miles from the base – in fact, it resides on the former Bitburg AB, about 15 miles from Spangdahlem and very close to the Luxembourg border. What was formerly the Bitburg AB Officer’s Mess is now our hotel – the sign on the outside still has not change after 11 years when the base closed in 1994. After dropping our luggage off in our rooms we then head for the hotel restaurant. The German waitress is spunky – we all order beers and she quickly realizes that I can speak “kleine Deutsche” (a little German). After downing two beers and a wonderful dinner most of us retire for the night. A few guys head out for late night drinking and I inform all that our showtime is 0415L in the lobby. The chief and I then stop at the front desk to ensure that everyone gets a 0345L wake up call.
DAY 51: Goodbye K1
Sun, 16 October 2005
Close Aerial Attack
Just as things are winding down for me, a large explosion occurs and the attack alarm goes off at midnight. Only this time I’m completely zonked out and don’t hear either event. A couple of troops are performing sweeps of the tents and find me completely sound asleep – I’m awakened and when I get my bearings I realize that this is our second attack within 48 hours. When I arrive at the bunker, I’m informed that the explosion occurred within 100 yards from us, hitting the next compound with debris falling into our compound. All those who were awake indicated they felt the ground shake – from their descriptions, this one was VERY close! We’re all now very concerned – the previous attacks were along the base periphery while this supposed rocket mortar hit the heart of the base. After staying outside in the bunker for almost two hours, we’re released and a bunch of us head to the other side of the compound to investigate the debris field. Wow, after contemplating the scenario, I realized that a few degrees difference in direction would have resulted in the total destruction of our Ops work center with the distinct possibility of a lot of deaths from fellow coworkers. This realization of danger really pushes us to the edge and I’m now looking forward more than ever on departing from this hell hole.
What Really Happened…
When I get into work in the morning, the true scenario starts to unfold. Our EOD (Explosive Ordnance Demolition) team investigating the incident uncovered something important – no evidence of a rocket for the rocket mortar attack. After further determination, the investigation team concludes that a water heater had exploded. I inquire with a fellow coworker if the debris field could be so large given this type of explosion. He informs me that in the long ago past, water heater explosions through the roof were occasional enough that a pressure release valve was mandated by the federal government around the 1960s. Thus, this safety valve would release built up pressure and prevent explosions from occurring. The contractor must have short-cut this requirement which ultimately resulted in this incident. I’m quite relieved – I’ll take an exploding water heater any day over the enemy’s ability to better target us.
Goodbye K1
“So long! Farewell! Adieu, adieu, adieu. Goodbye…Goodbye…Goodbye!” So sings the Von Trapp family in “The Sound of Music”. As the end of my tour approaches, I can finally reveal my location in Afghanistan during the past 6 weeks: Kandahar, also affectionately known as “K1”. After Kabul – Afghanistan’s capital city – Kandahar is the second largest city in the country and dominates the cultural landscape and commercial market throughout southern Afghanistan.
It is also here where the Taliban originated and gained strength before conquering the rest of the country during the chaotic 90s. At the start of the Operation Enduring Freedom campaign in October, 2001, one of the early images I recall on TV was the taking of Kandahar International Airport by coalition forces. The terminal’s unique architecture distinguishes it from nearly all other airport terminals I’ve visited. When I landed here 6 weeks ago, the first image I saw was the Kandahar terminal building – it brought back memories from four years ago regarding the start of this war that we are now fighting.
There’s even a movie called “Kandahar” that was released in 2001. Upon my return, I plan on renting it to learn about the Afghan culture that I only touched upon on a very superficial level. Alas, after a brief stay my time is now up at K1. Except for the dust, this was actually a pretty good assignment for a war zone. I send one last e-mail update to my home station – we are still on schedule to depart tomorrow. Alas it is time to pack the bags, say bye to fellow coworkers and prepare to depart.
Fallen Soldier #17
Close Aerial Attack
Just as things are winding down for me, a large explosion occurs and the attack alarm goes off at midnight. Only this time I’m completely zonked out and don’t hear either event. A couple of troops are performing sweeps of the tents and find me completely sound asleep – I’m awakened and when I get my bearings I realize that this is our second attack within 48 hours. When I arrive at the bunker, I’m informed that the explosion occurred within 100 yards from us, hitting the next compound with debris falling into our compound. All those who were awake indicated they felt the ground shake – from their descriptions, this one was VERY close! We’re all now very concerned – the previous attacks were along the base periphery while this supposed rocket mortar hit the heart of the base. After staying outside in the bunker for almost two hours, we’re released and a bunch of us head to the other side of the compound to investigate the debris field. Wow, after contemplating the scenario, I realized that a few degrees difference in direction would have resulted in the total destruction of our Ops work center with the distinct possibility of a lot of deaths from fellow coworkers. This realization of danger really pushes us to the edge and I’m now looking forward more than ever on departing from this hell hole.
What Really Happened…
When I get into work in the morning, the true scenario starts to unfold. Our EOD (Explosive Ordnance Demolition) team investigating the incident uncovered something important – no evidence of a rocket for the rocket mortar attack. After further determination, the investigation team concludes that a water heater had exploded. I inquire with a fellow coworker if the debris field could be so large given this type of explosion. He informs me that in the long ago past, water heater explosions through the roof were occasional enough that a pressure release valve was mandated by the federal government around the 1960s. Thus, this safety valve would release built up pressure and prevent explosions from occurring. The contractor must have short-cut this requirement which ultimately resulted in this incident. I’m quite relieved – I’ll take an exploding water heater any day over the enemy’s ability to better target us.
Goodbye K1
“So long! Farewell! Adieu, adieu, adieu. Goodbye…Goodbye…Goodbye!” So sings the Von Trapp family in “The Sound of Music”. As the end of my tour approaches, I can finally reveal my location in Afghanistan during the past 6 weeks: Kandahar, also affectionately known as “K1”. After Kabul – Afghanistan’s capital city – Kandahar is the second largest city in the country and dominates the cultural landscape and commercial market throughout southern Afghanistan.
It is also here where the Taliban originated and gained strength before conquering the rest of the country during the chaotic 90s. At the start of the Operation Enduring Freedom campaign in October, 2001, one of the early images I recall on TV was the taking of Kandahar International Airport by coalition forces. The terminal’s unique architecture distinguishes it from nearly all other airport terminals I’ve visited. When I landed here 6 weeks ago, the first image I saw was the Kandahar terminal building – it brought back memories from four years ago regarding the start of this war that we are now fighting.
There’s even a movie called “Kandahar” that was released in 2001. Upon my return, I plan on renting it to learn about the Afghan culture that I only touched upon on a very superficial level. Alas, after a brief stay my time is now up at K1. Except for the dust, this was actually a pretty good assignment for a war zone. I send one last e-mail update to my home station – we are still on schedule to depart tomorrow. Alas it is time to pack the bags, say bye to fellow coworkers and prepare to depart.
Fallen Soldier #17
DAY 50: Taliban Buildings
Sat, 15 October 2005
Taliban’s Last Stand
Known as “TLS”, the Taliban’s Last Stand building is utilized by the Army now. But it is so-named because this is where the Taliban was holed up before capitulating to American forces. Inside, lots of bullet holes in the walls and ceilings to indicate a tense firefight. A large hole in the middle of the building was created by a bomb – it has since been converted to a courtyard. What was once the enemy’s central hub is now our own – an interesting turn of events for this historical building.
Taliban Tavern
The tavern is actually a real Afghan building with walls two feet thick. Surrounding the building is an orchard of trees in neat columns – non-fruit bearing, but apparently of some value to the Afghans. As our Air Force Village grew over the past four years, it expanded to incorporate this building and the orchard – some of the few remaining trees on this base. The building was converted into a tavern-style place to socialize, drink coffee and smoke. In the interior, images and dedication to the events of 9/11 remind us all why we are here. Over the entire wall, folks from past rotations have scrawled their names and units. I add my name to the wall just above the homage to the World Trade Center towers and enjoy one last view from this little tavern in our village.
Taliban’s Last Stand
Known as “TLS”, the Taliban’s Last Stand building is utilized by the Army now. But it is so-named because this is where the Taliban was holed up before capitulating to American forces. Inside, lots of bullet holes in the walls and ceilings to indicate a tense firefight. A large hole in the middle of the building was created by a bomb – it has since been converted to a courtyard. What was once the enemy’s central hub is now our own – an interesting turn of events for this historical building.
Taliban Tavern
The tavern is actually a real Afghan building with walls two feet thick. Surrounding the building is an orchard of trees in neat columns – non-fruit bearing, but apparently of some value to the Afghans. As our Air Force Village grew over the past four years, it expanded to incorporate this building and the orchard – some of the few remaining trees on this base. The building was converted into a tavern-style place to socialize, drink coffee and smoke. In the interior, images and dedication to the events of 9/11 remind us all why we are here. Over the entire wall, folks from past rotations have scrawled their names and units. I add my name to the wall just above the homage to the World Trade Center towers and enjoy one last view from this little tavern in our village.
Friday, October 14, 2005
DAY 49: Wailing Attack Sirens
Fri, 14 October 2005
At 2150 zulu (2:20am), the base attack siren starts wailing. Most of us are in REM sleep and I awaken to realize that this is something VERY serious. Though we had a single rocket attack earlier in the tour, this is the first time the alarm goes off base-wide. My adrenaline is pumping knowing that this could be an imminent attack. So, I quickly get dressed and wake up another tent mate who is still asleep. We then head out to the nearest concrete bunker – B129 – and a couple of other folks soon join us. I realize the irony of this bunker number as my unit is the 129th Rescue Wing. Anyway, word filters down that a fuel truck had exploded – they were still unsure whether this was an attack or an accident. But all of us agree that we heard gunfire and a M-60 rocket go off on the south side of base a few hours earlier, so the possibility that this could be a concerted attack was very real. The Taliban – my speculation – was active and launching a small attack on us. After huddling outside in the bunker for 35 minutes – with temps in the 50s – the event was over at 2225 zulu (2:55am) and we head back to our tents.
Fortunately, no one was hurt in this incident. But from my discussions with others who have been here for a while, the last major attack occurred in July and the rocket mortar hit a KBR civilian tent. One person suffered minor injuries while a second had shrapnel that sliced across his throat. The second individual still remains in the hospital to this day because of the severities of his injuries. I’m counting down the days – 3 more days before we depart. Keep your fingers crossed for no more incidents…
Update: Once I arrived at work, I confirmed that this was a coordinated effort with attacks on both ends of the base. On one side, 4 fuel trucks were hit and then exploded. On the opposite side of the base, rocket mortar shrapnel hit some British aircraft. Definitely the biggest attack on this base since July.
At 2150 zulu (2:20am), the base attack siren starts wailing. Most of us are in REM sleep and I awaken to realize that this is something VERY serious. Though we had a single rocket attack earlier in the tour, this is the first time the alarm goes off base-wide. My adrenaline is pumping knowing that this could be an imminent attack. So, I quickly get dressed and wake up another tent mate who is still asleep. We then head out to the nearest concrete bunker – B129 – and a couple of other folks soon join us. I realize the irony of this bunker number as my unit is the 129th Rescue Wing. Anyway, word filters down that a fuel truck had exploded – they were still unsure whether this was an attack or an accident. But all of us agree that we heard gunfire and a M-60 rocket go off on the south side of base a few hours earlier, so the possibility that this could be a concerted attack was very real. The Taliban – my speculation – was active and launching a small attack on us. After huddling outside in the bunker for 35 minutes – with temps in the 50s – the event was over at 2225 zulu (2:55am) and we head back to our tents.
Fortunately, no one was hurt in this incident. But from my discussions with others who have been here for a while, the last major attack occurred in July and the rocket mortar hit a KBR civilian tent. One person suffered minor injuries while a second had shrapnel that sliced across his throat. The second individual still remains in the hospital to this day because of the severities of his injuries. I’m counting down the days – 3 more days before we depart. Keep your fingers crossed for no more incidents…
Update: Once I arrived at work, I confirmed that this was a coordinated effort with attacks on both ends of the base. On one side, 4 fuel trucks were hit and then exploded. On the opposite side of the base, rocket mortar shrapnel hit some British aircraft. Definitely the biggest attack on this base since July.
DAY 48: A Different Daily Routine
Thu, 13 October 2005
One of the challenges here are the rules and infrastructure which completely alters your normal way of life. Little things that we take for granted are completely turned upside down and around. Observations that I’ve noted during my stay here:
Food – All-American meat and potatoes. Heavy on starches, salt and cholesterol. My goodness, I’m not sure if they are trying to feed us or kill us?!?! I do miss the mix in ethnic foods back home.
Water – Non-potable in the bathroom sinks. So, that means you have to have carry a bottle of water with you to brush and floss your teeth. Try it at home with the tap off and using only a bottle of water – it is very much tougher than you think.
Clothing – either military uniform or PT (Physical Training) gear. All civilian clothes are in the suitcases gathering dust. At night, we have to wear a safety reflective belt around the waist. Can’t wait to pull out my comfortable pair of jeans and just relax.
Wash Your Hands – outside of every chow hall, you must wash your hands in the outside sink prior to eating. It’s for your own hygienic purposes, but I can’t help thinking that “mom” is lurking somewhere nearby telling us to do this.
No Alcohol – there’s “near beer”, but it also is non-alcoholic. This rule is to observe the local conditions in Afghanistan. Can’t wait to have a sip of Porto Negro Mexican dark beer or a Guinness Stout.
Money – no change. All quarters, dimes and nickels are substituted with poker chip-like objects of same value. No pennies, so all transactions are rounded up or down to nearest five cents (like other military installations).
Island-Fever – due to the security concerns, most of us are not let off base (except for bazaar just outside of gate). I’m an explorer by nature and want to roam the countryside and meet people. But I do understand it is in our best interest to stay within the base compound. Still, I’ve got island fever.
Weapon – all personnel MUST carry either an M-9 pistol or M-16 rifle. This is just in case the enemy attacks and attempts to overrun the base. Probably a good idea that there is a non-alcohol policy – it would be very dangerous given the testosterone level and the availability of these weapons. One of the interesting things is that I now feel “naked” without my M-9 web belt hanging around my waist.
Bunker – concrete bunkers are scattered throughout the base and you need to be aware of the ones in your local vicinity should an attack occur.
One of the challenges here are the rules and infrastructure which completely alters your normal way of life. Little things that we take for granted are completely turned upside down and around. Observations that I’ve noted during my stay here:
Food – All-American meat and potatoes. Heavy on starches, salt and cholesterol. My goodness, I’m not sure if they are trying to feed us or kill us?!?! I do miss the mix in ethnic foods back home.
Water – Non-potable in the bathroom sinks. So, that means you have to have carry a bottle of water with you to brush and floss your teeth. Try it at home with the tap off and using only a bottle of water – it is very much tougher than you think.
Clothing – either military uniform or PT (Physical Training) gear. All civilian clothes are in the suitcases gathering dust. At night, we have to wear a safety reflective belt around the waist. Can’t wait to pull out my comfortable pair of jeans and just relax.
Wash Your Hands – outside of every chow hall, you must wash your hands in the outside sink prior to eating. It’s for your own hygienic purposes, but I can’t help thinking that “mom” is lurking somewhere nearby telling us to do this.
No Alcohol – there’s “near beer”, but it also is non-alcoholic. This rule is to observe the local conditions in Afghanistan. Can’t wait to have a sip of Porto Negro Mexican dark beer or a Guinness Stout.
Money – no change. All quarters, dimes and nickels are substituted with poker chip-like objects of same value. No pennies, so all transactions are rounded up or down to nearest five cents (like other military installations).
Island-Fever – due to the security concerns, most of us are not let off base (except for bazaar just outside of gate). I’m an explorer by nature and want to roam the countryside and meet people. But I do understand it is in our best interest to stay within the base compound. Still, I’ve got island fever.
Weapon – all personnel MUST carry either an M-9 pistol or M-16 rifle. This is just in case the enemy attacks and attempts to overrun the base. Probably a good idea that there is a non-alcohol policy – it would be very dangerous given the testosterone level and the availability of these weapons. One of the interesting things is that I now feel “naked” without my M-9 web belt hanging around my waist.
Bunker – concrete bunkers are scattered throughout the base and you need to be aware of the ones in your local vicinity should an attack occur.
DAY 47: Mini United Nations
Wed, 12 October 2005
The BX and its mall has shops that are filled with vendors from all over the world – a mini United Nations right here. What’s unique is that each shop is filled with workers from a specific ethnic group – I speculate that the hiring manager is most likely of that nationality. In the BX, the workers are of Kyrgyz descent – the same people from my brief stay in Manas, Kyrgyzstan. Pakistani workers own the Pizza Hut. The Press Shop (to iron your uniforms) is comprised of Indian workers. And the Barber Shop is full of Russians. Very interesting slice of foreign workers supporting our mission here.
Fallen Soldier #16
The BX and its mall has shops that are filled with vendors from all over the world – a mini United Nations right here. What’s unique is that each shop is filled with workers from a specific ethnic group – I speculate that the hiring manager is most likely of that nationality. In the BX, the workers are of Kyrgyz descent – the same people from my brief stay in Manas, Kyrgyzstan. Pakistani workers own the Pizza Hut. The Press Shop (to iron your uniforms) is comprised of Indian workers. And the Barber Shop is full of Russians. Very interesting slice of foreign workers supporting our mission here.
Fallen Soldier #16
DAY 46: Pakistan Earthquake Relief
Tue, 11 October 2005
I assist Rich, the replacement loggie, in developing a load plan should a mission come down. We discuss with key personnel the humanitarian mission that will involve specific personnel and cargo. The quake apparently was felt in parts of Afghanistan that we were not in – thus, I didn’t realize its impact until the death toll surpassed 40,000.
On a geological standpoint, the quake occurred along the plate boundary that separates the Asian continent from the Indian subcontinent. Afghanistan is on the former; Pakistan is on the latter. As days pass, the news comes forth that things are grim. I’m hoping we can mobilize soon and provide an assist to these people in dire need of emergency medical attention.
I assist Rich, the replacement loggie, in developing a load plan should a mission come down. We discuss with key personnel the humanitarian mission that will involve specific personnel and cargo. The quake apparently was felt in parts of Afghanistan that we were not in – thus, I didn’t realize its impact until the death toll surpassed 40,000.
On a geological standpoint, the quake occurred along the plate boundary that separates the Asian continent from the Indian subcontinent. Afghanistan is on the former; Pakistan is on the latter. As days pass, the news comes forth that things are grim. I’m hoping we can mobilize soon and provide an assist to these people in dire need of emergency medical attention.
DAY 45: Auf Wiedersehen Rhein-Main
Mon, 10 October 2005
Today’s chapter is not related to Afghanistan, but to a past duty assignment of mine – Rhein-Main AB in Frankfurt, Germany. They held a ceremony today to mark the formal closing of this one-time “Gateway to Europe”. As a young airman, I recall passing through the main gate with that phrase emblazoned on a steel sign across the entire entrance. This was my first overseas assignment and I spent two wonderful years here in the 1980s.
In its heyday, Rhein-Main was the main air base where all American G.I.s passed through when entering Europe (except for England). Its history is marked with both special and sad moments: the Berlin Airlift, in which Rhein-Main was the main launching point for this important Cold War airlift in 1948-49; the birth and flourishing of Frankfurt International Airport in the 1950s, which shared the runway with the base; the first bombing in 1985, in which an American civilian was killed; the return of various American hostages from the Middle East during the later 1980s; and finally its rebirth upon the start of Operation Enduring Freedom in 2001. Given the success of Frankfurt International Airport as the busiest airport on the European continent, Rhein-Main’s future would draw to a close as its precious land was needed for expansion of this important airway hub. Airlift operations have since transferred to Ramstein and Spangdahlem Air Bases in Germany – about 90 miles southwest of Rhein-Main. But, given the 60 years of history spanning from the Cold War to the Global War on Terrorism, Rhein-Main’s page is now complete.
In April, I stopped by Rhein-Main on my European vacation and was amazed at how much it had already downsized. My memories during my two-year tour were all wonderful – it is here that I grew up and became an adult; where I discovered good German beer; where I made a trip to then communist East Berlin; and where I re-enlisted for the first time knowing I would eventually become a career airman. Alas, a page in history now turns and is gone forever…
Today’s chapter is not related to Afghanistan, but to a past duty assignment of mine – Rhein-Main AB in Frankfurt, Germany. They held a ceremony today to mark the formal closing of this one-time “Gateway to Europe”. As a young airman, I recall passing through the main gate with that phrase emblazoned on a steel sign across the entire entrance. This was my first overseas assignment and I spent two wonderful years here in the 1980s.
In its heyday, Rhein-Main was the main air base where all American G.I.s passed through when entering Europe (except for England). Its history is marked with both special and sad moments: the Berlin Airlift, in which Rhein-Main was the main launching point for this important Cold War airlift in 1948-49; the birth and flourishing of Frankfurt International Airport in the 1950s, which shared the runway with the base; the first bombing in 1985, in which an American civilian was killed; the return of various American hostages from the Middle East during the later 1980s; and finally its rebirth upon the start of Operation Enduring Freedom in 2001. Given the success of Frankfurt International Airport as the busiest airport on the European continent, Rhein-Main’s future would draw to a close as its precious land was needed for expansion of this important airway hub. Airlift operations have since transferred to Ramstein and Spangdahlem Air Bases in Germany – about 90 miles southwest of Rhein-Main. But, given the 60 years of history spanning from the Cold War to the Global War on Terrorism, Rhein-Main’s page is now complete.
In April, I stopped by Rhein-Main on my European vacation and was amazed at how much it had already downsized. My memories during my two-year tour were all wonderful – it is here that I grew up and became an adult; where I discovered good German beer; where I made a trip to then communist East Berlin; and where I re-enlisted for the first time knowing I would eventually become a career airman. Alas, a page in history now turns and is gone forever…
Monday, October 10, 2005
DAY 44: Missing Everyone
Sun, 9 October 2005
A slow day in which I’m also not feeling too well. So, I opt to take the rest of the day off to rest and reflect on what I’ve accomplished here and how I much I miss my special person, my family, my friends and coworkers. Though I’ve made a bunch of new friends here, it’s still tough and is reminiscent of my days when I was active-duty. You’re in a foreign place and need to make friends fast. But, you are also far away from home and the loneliness starts to seep in every once in a while. A bunch of folks have e-mailed me over the course of the past month – I finally have some time tomorrow to reply to folks and let them know I’m doing well.
Another thing I miss is the normal routine back home where you can drive and go places when you have time off. Because of the security concerns, we are confined to the base – except for the bazaar – and thus at times it feels like we’re caged animals. Don’t get me wrong – this is one of the better assignments except for the dust. There are things to do, but after a while you do get “island fever” for being trapped here. I’ve seen some of the videos here of the Afghan countryside – and it is both beautiful and varied. Nearby is a great desert just 7 miles away, and within an hour’s drive is a large mountain range which separates Afghanistan from Pakistan. Very much like California in the diversity of the terrain. Alas, I look fondly on the pictures and just imagine what it would be like to explore the countryside in one of our helicopters for sightseeing purposes only…
Fallen Soldier #15
A slow day in which I’m also not feeling too well. So, I opt to take the rest of the day off to rest and reflect on what I’ve accomplished here and how I much I miss my special person, my family, my friends and coworkers. Though I’ve made a bunch of new friends here, it’s still tough and is reminiscent of my days when I was active-duty. You’re in a foreign place and need to make friends fast. But, you are also far away from home and the loneliness starts to seep in every once in a while. A bunch of folks have e-mailed me over the course of the past month – I finally have some time tomorrow to reply to folks and let them know I’m doing well.
Another thing I miss is the normal routine back home where you can drive and go places when you have time off. Because of the security concerns, we are confined to the base – except for the bazaar – and thus at times it feels like we’re caged animals. Don’t get me wrong – this is one of the better assignments except for the dust. There are things to do, but after a while you do get “island fever” for being trapped here. I’ve seen some of the videos here of the Afghan countryside – and it is both beautiful and varied. Nearby is a great desert just 7 miles away, and within an hour’s drive is a large mountain range which separates Afghanistan from Pakistan. Very much like California in the diversity of the terrain. Alas, I look fondly on the pictures and just imagine what it would be like to explore the countryside in one of our helicopters for sightseeing purposes only…
Fallen Soldier #15
DAY 43: Pizza Night
Sat, 8 October 2005
Once a week, the Air Force Village folks get together for pizza night. But this is not just any pizza – it’s hand-made pizza that is slow cooked in an outdoor oven. Because of our schedule, most of the rescue folks never got to attend this function. The event is a nice gathering of our entire camp and a chance to meet and socialize with others from different units. I get a chance to chat with all the folks outside of my unit that I’ve interacted with. A wonderful time to network with others and broaden our horizons.
The highlight of the night for me occurs when the Air Force Village commander sits down next to me and informs me that “my e-mail today was brilliant – what every officer should be sending out.” The message I had sent is a clear and concise plan of action items required to bring the special cargo back to the states. Wow, I’m floored – still it’s nice to know that my work is much appreciated. A very good ending to a long week…
Once a week, the Air Force Village folks get together for pizza night. But this is not just any pizza – it’s hand-made pizza that is slow cooked in an outdoor oven. Because of our schedule, most of the rescue folks never got to attend this function. The event is a nice gathering of our entire camp and a chance to meet and socialize with others from different units. I get a chance to chat with all the folks outside of my unit that I’ve interacted with. A wonderful time to network with others and broaden our horizons.
The highlight of the night for me occurs when the Air Force Village commander sits down next to me and informs me that “my e-mail today was brilliant – what every officer should be sending out.” The message I had sent is a clear and concise plan of action items required to bring the special cargo back to the states. Wow, I’m floored – still it’s nice to know that my work is much appreciated. A very good ending to a long week…
DAY 42: A Mouse in the House
Fri, 7 October 2005
Recently, I moved back to the tents from the hard billets. Nothing unusual except for one small itty, bitty thing – a mouse. Fortunately, no mice have found their way into my tent – yet. But, over the past couple of days there have been mice sightings in several other tents with one even crawling up a guy’s leg while he was sleeping – talk about a freak out!
Rich – my replacement loggie – is so fed up he set traps that are basically sticky glue. In a few hours – shazam! He catches one that very day and we go over to his tent to observe the critter. It’s quite feisty – he puts the tip of a coat hangar near its mouth and it goes off chewing on it like there's no tomorrow. I guess if I was in this mouse’s place and stuck on a sticky paper I would probably do the same thing. Then we contemplated on the disposal of this animal. Several coworkers provide suggestions that are pretty crude and violent including: smashing the head; stepping on it; and crushing the body in a plastic bag. Rich and I aren’t too keen on any of these ideas and we discuss and agree on a non-violent method – he simply disposes of it in a garbage can. So, no more mouse. Now, where are those local vaccinated cats that are supposed to be hunting for the mice in the first place?
Fallen Soldier #14
4th anniversaryt of the start of Operation Enduring Freedom
P.S. – Happy 10th Birthday to my nephew, Calvin!
Recently, I moved back to the tents from the hard billets. Nothing unusual except for one small itty, bitty thing – a mouse. Fortunately, no mice have found their way into my tent – yet. But, over the past couple of days there have been mice sightings in several other tents with one even crawling up a guy’s leg while he was sleeping – talk about a freak out!
Rich – my replacement loggie – is so fed up he set traps that are basically sticky glue. In a few hours – shazam! He catches one that very day and we go over to his tent to observe the critter. It’s quite feisty – he puts the tip of a coat hangar near its mouth and it goes off chewing on it like there's no tomorrow. I guess if I was in this mouse’s place and stuck on a sticky paper I would probably do the same thing. Then we contemplated on the disposal of this animal. Several coworkers provide suggestions that are pretty crude and violent including: smashing the head; stepping on it; and crushing the body in a plastic bag. Rich and I aren’t too keen on any of these ideas and we discuss and agree on a non-violent method – he simply disposes of it in a garbage can. So, no more mouse. Now, where are those local vaccinated cats that are supposed to be hunting for the mice in the first place?
Fallen Soldier #14
4th anniversaryt of the start of Operation Enduring Freedom
P.S. – Happy 10th Birthday to my nephew, Calvin!
Friday, October 07, 2005
DAY 41: Goodbye, Part II
Thu, 6 October 2005
The last few days have just been hectic. With airlift getting cancelled right and left, my second chalk is not able to make it up to Manas. Originally, they were scheduled to depart one hour after the first chalk. Instead, they end up stuck here for two more days as scheduled departures pan out and I end up camping at the Pax terminal for more than 12 hours straight. I’m now working on Plan G (7th version) and the many issues to ensure they board the plane. Finally, after 48 hours the second group gets on and I wave good bye. Job well done, and I finally hit the bed for some much needed zzz’s…
Fallen Soldier #13
The last few days have just been hectic. With airlift getting cancelled right and left, my second chalk is not able to make it up to Manas. Originally, they were scheduled to depart one hour after the first chalk. Instead, they end up stuck here for two more days as scheduled departures pan out and I end up camping at the Pax terminal for more than 12 hours straight. I’m now working on Plan G (7th version) and the many issues to ensure they board the plane. Finally, after 48 hours the second group gets on and I wave good bye. Job well done, and I finally hit the bed for some much needed zzz’s…
Fallen Soldier #13
DAY 40: Foods that make you go mmm…
Wed, 5 October 2005
Wasaaaaaaabi!
One of the troops received a care package from home last week and with his generosity he shared the contents with the rest of us. One of the more interesting items is a package of wasabi peas. Believe it or not, I had never heard or seen this item prior to this deployment. After piquing my curiosity, I down a few of these peas. WOW – the wasabi horseradish soon awakens my palate and I’m quickly addicted. When I return home, I’ll need to stop by an ethnic shop and pick up a few bags of this tasty snack that is both savory and healthy.
I Scream for Ice Cream
Another high point for food occurs when the Army receives a large delivery of ice cream bars. Our supply folks will pick up the Class I rations and distribute them to all the folks around the Air Force Village. Over the course of our tour different types of ice cream showed up ranging from old-fashioned Good Humor Popsicles to mainstay Dove Bars and even to trendy Snickers, Milky-Way and Kit-Kat Ice Cream Bars. When things get tough, there’s nothing like an ice cream bar to light up a smile.
Yummy stuff…
· Wasabi Peas
· Ice Cream
· Cordon Bleu Chicken
· Fried Chicken
· Corn on the cob
· San Benedetto Lemon Iced Tea
· King Crab legs & Lobster – yes, an occasional special for us!
· Afghan Footbread
Foods that I sorely miss…
· Ethnic – good Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, or Thai food
· Salads – especially, Locke’s tasty & incredible version!
Wasaaaaaaabi!
One of the troops received a care package from home last week and with his generosity he shared the contents with the rest of us. One of the more interesting items is a package of wasabi peas. Believe it or not, I had never heard or seen this item prior to this deployment. After piquing my curiosity, I down a few of these peas. WOW – the wasabi horseradish soon awakens my palate and I’m quickly addicted. When I return home, I’ll need to stop by an ethnic shop and pick up a few bags of this tasty snack that is both savory and healthy.
I Scream for Ice Cream
Another high point for food occurs when the Army receives a large delivery of ice cream bars. Our supply folks will pick up the Class I rations and distribute them to all the folks around the Air Force Village. Over the course of our tour different types of ice cream showed up ranging from old-fashioned Good Humor Popsicles to mainstay Dove Bars and even to trendy Snickers, Milky-Way and Kit-Kat Ice Cream Bars. When things get tough, there’s nothing like an ice cream bar to light up a smile.
Yummy stuff…
· Wasabi Peas
· Ice Cream
· Cordon Bleu Chicken
· Fried Chicken
· Corn on the cob
· San Benedetto Lemon Iced Tea
· King Crab legs & Lobster – yes, an occasional special for us!
· Afghan Footbread
Foods that I sorely miss…
· Ethnic – good Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, or Thai food
· Salads – especially, Locke’s tasty & incredible version!
DAY 39: Goodbye, Part I
Tue, 4 October 2005
Chalk A
Over the course of the past few days, I conduct two redeployment briefings for my troops and though the last few days have been chaotic with very little sleep, it appears that everything finally starts to fall in place according to my plan for the return trip home. However, just when things are looking good, bad news rears its ugly head. Remember the “Dosey doe, and Away we don’t go” episode? (refer to Day 4) Guess what? Plans A, B, and C fall through. So, now I’m on to Plan D and split up the folks to push through half of the troops on to Manas. At the Passenger Service Counter, an Army Captain approaches the desk to inquire on his high priority Space Available (Space-A) status. The sergeant I’ve been working the issue with – a sharp guy that I will need to acknowledge when the dust settles – informs him the flight is completely booked with my higher priority troops. The captain then turns to me and all I can say is “Hey, sorry about that.” Frustrating that in this case, my success needs to come at someone else’s expense. But that’s the challenge we loggies face with so many unforeseen schedule changes. For this deployment, I definitely earned my “loggie” stripes.
Chalk B
While the first group was a success, the second group’s airlift was delayed and delayed until it was finally cancelled. Ugh, now I’m trying to manage two separate groups in two locations in two countries and in two different time zones. Never said it was easy…
My Return
I previously mentioned that I would be staying back for an important mission. However, the authorization for us to stay does not materialize until the very last minute – in fact, just 2-1/2 hours before our showtime to board the plane. I was packed and ready to go, but everything finally worked out in the end for me to stay.
Chalk A
Over the course of the past few days, I conduct two redeployment briefings for my troops and though the last few days have been chaotic with very little sleep, it appears that everything finally starts to fall in place according to my plan for the return trip home. However, just when things are looking good, bad news rears its ugly head. Remember the “Dosey doe, and Away we don’t go” episode? (refer to Day 4) Guess what? Plans A, B, and C fall through. So, now I’m on to Plan D and split up the folks to push through half of the troops on to Manas. At the Passenger Service Counter, an Army Captain approaches the desk to inquire on his high priority Space Available (Space-A) status. The sergeant I’ve been working the issue with – a sharp guy that I will need to acknowledge when the dust settles – informs him the flight is completely booked with my higher priority troops. The captain then turns to me and all I can say is “Hey, sorry about that.” Frustrating that in this case, my success needs to come at someone else’s expense. But that’s the challenge we loggies face with so many unforeseen schedule changes. For this deployment, I definitely earned my “loggie” stripes.
Chalk B
While the first group was a success, the second group’s airlift was delayed and delayed until it was finally cancelled. Ugh, now I’m trying to manage two separate groups in two locations in two countries and in two different time zones. Never said it was easy…
My Return
I previously mentioned that I would be staying back for an important mission. However, the authorization for us to stay does not materialize until the very last minute – in fact, just 2-1/2 hours before our showtime to board the plane. I was packed and ready to go, but everything finally worked out in the end for me to stay.
DAY 38: Mother of all Dust Storms
Mon, 3 October 2005
Today’s the day we start packing up and prepping to head home. One of our tasks is to gather our bags and build up cargo pallets that our bags will then sit upon. This is an outdoor event and unfortunately, today’s weather does not cooperate with us. While the weather for most of the tour has been basically hot and dusty, the wind soon kicks up and starts to blow at a consistent 30 mph. This storm is worse than the previous one (refer to Day 15), but not the magnitude of the one that hit the troops in Iraq during the early stages of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Even with sunglasses, the blowing dust and sand soon starts to sting my eyes, sinuses and entire face. I head back to my room and grab my supply-issued goggles and gloves – a must if I am to stay out in this weather. A group of us then head over to the Maintenance Hangar and spend the next three hours outside in this weather to complete this important task.
There is a lone mountain just a couple of miles from the base that stands at 5000’ and is always clearly visible from the base – but not today. Instead, it’s a brutal dust storm that we must endure. By nightfall, the storm passes and the winds completely die down bringing things back to a calm state again. I have to take a shower to scrub my face and body and cleanse the clogged pores that are now filled with dust and sand. Facial sand-blasting is not conducive to a good complexion!
Today’s the day we start packing up and prepping to head home. One of our tasks is to gather our bags and build up cargo pallets that our bags will then sit upon. This is an outdoor event and unfortunately, today’s weather does not cooperate with us. While the weather for most of the tour has been basically hot and dusty, the wind soon kicks up and starts to blow at a consistent 30 mph. This storm is worse than the previous one (refer to Day 15), but not the magnitude of the one that hit the troops in Iraq during the early stages of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Even with sunglasses, the blowing dust and sand soon starts to sting my eyes, sinuses and entire face. I head back to my room and grab my supply-issued goggles and gloves – a must if I am to stay out in this weather. A group of us then head over to the Maintenance Hangar and spend the next three hours outside in this weather to complete this important task.
There is a lone mountain just a couple of miles from the base that stands at 5000’ and is always clearly visible from the base – but not today. Instead, it’s a brutal dust storm that we must endure. By nightfall, the storm passes and the winds completely die down bringing things back to a calm state again. I have to take a shower to scrub my face and body and cleanse the clogged pores that are now filled with dust and sand. Facial sand-blasting is not conducive to a good complexion!
DAY 37: Rescue BBQ at the Taliban Tavern
Sun, 2 October 2005
Since my group’s rotation would be ending soon, I made the arrangements to have an old-fashioned barbeque with hamburgers, hot dogs, snacks and soft drinks. We start early to scrub down the tables from the dust and fire up the BBQ pits. Soon my team is cooking away and I’m coordinating everything to ensure that the 100 or so folks that show up are comfortable, fed and well-content. The PJs provide some colorful local food from one of their stints off-base. One interesting item is Afghan footbread – a 2-foot oval-shaped dough cooked to perfection. I inquire with one of the camp members on the name – she informs me that the Afghans utilize their feet to kneed the bread. Okay, after hearing this bit of information I’m not sure now if I want to eat this bread. But she reminds me that many good wines are also foot-stomped in their creation process, so I go bravely forward and give it a taste. Much to my surprise, it turns out to be quite flavorful and soon I join the PJs in chomping down huge gobs of this bread.
It’s a Small World after all…
One of the sergeants from our home unit – but not assigned to our rescue mission – stops by to greet us. Roscoe and I know each other well and I bring up a Renegade friend of mine – Corky – who earlier sent me an e-mail inquiring about him. At first he doesn’t know whom I’m talking about until I inform him on her real name – Celia. BAM! The lights go on for Roscoe and we realize that Corky (and her family) is a step-relative of his. What a small world! We then take a picture of the both of us in front of the Taliban Tavern – the Afghan adobe that was left in place as the Air Force Village was built.
Another Lt Col that I met on base here informed me he was a J4 Logistician. When he inquired where I was from, I informed him from “Moffett Field”. He then asked if I knew a guy named George. “Heck yeah!” I replied. He used to be my former military boss for 7 years until his retirement two years ago.
Wow, halfway across the world and it’s still a small world!
Since my group’s rotation would be ending soon, I made the arrangements to have an old-fashioned barbeque with hamburgers, hot dogs, snacks and soft drinks. We start early to scrub down the tables from the dust and fire up the BBQ pits. Soon my team is cooking away and I’m coordinating everything to ensure that the 100 or so folks that show up are comfortable, fed and well-content. The PJs provide some colorful local food from one of their stints off-base. One interesting item is Afghan footbread – a 2-foot oval-shaped dough cooked to perfection. I inquire with one of the camp members on the name – she informs me that the Afghans utilize their feet to kneed the bread. Okay, after hearing this bit of information I’m not sure now if I want to eat this bread. But she reminds me that many good wines are also foot-stomped in their creation process, so I go bravely forward and give it a taste. Much to my surprise, it turns out to be quite flavorful and soon I join the PJs in chomping down huge gobs of this bread.
It’s a Small World after all…
One of the sergeants from our home unit – but not assigned to our rescue mission – stops by to greet us. Roscoe and I know each other well and I bring up a Renegade friend of mine – Corky – who earlier sent me an e-mail inquiring about him. At first he doesn’t know whom I’m talking about until I inform him on her real name – Celia. BAM! The lights go on for Roscoe and we realize that Corky (and her family) is a step-relative of his. What a small world! We then take a picture of the both of us in front of the Taliban Tavern – the Afghan adobe that was left in place as the Air Force Village was built.
Another Lt Col that I met on base here informed me he was a J4 Logistician. When he inquired where I was from, I informed him from “Moffett Field”. He then asked if I knew a guy named George. “Heck yeah!” I replied. He used to be my former military boss for 7 years until his retirement two years ago.
Wow, halfway across the world and it’s still a small world!
DAY 36: Durka, Durka, Durka!
Sat, 1 October 2005
For most of the tour, the aircrews have been chanting weird phrases like, “Durka, Durka, Durka” and “Sherpa, Sherpa, Sherpa, Mohammed Jihad.” I just thought it was one of those made-up things that simply caught on and that I had missed the inside joke. But, if you recognize the phrases, then you saw the movie, “Team America” the puppet-movie made by the makers of “South Park” a couple years back. Someone purchased a copy from the bazaar and I saw it for the first time tonight. Oh my god – this is one absolutely hysterical movie! Ironically, it is also a good parody of Operation Enduring Freedom. A key scene is where one of the heroes – the “actor” – gets dressed up as a muslim and attempts to infiltrate a terrorist organization. At the gate, the patrol interrogates him in Arabic and starts to get more irritated with the actor’s lack of a response. Just as the actor was about to blow his cover, he starts to blurt out a random Arabic phrase, “Durka, Durka, Durka. Mohammed Jihad. Park Sherpa, Sherpa, Sherpa. Mohammed Jihad.” The patrol is pleased, then acknowledges, “Ahhhhhhh. Durka, Durka, Durka. Mohammed Jihad” and lets the actor pass through. Many of us were laughing and rolling on the floor watching this movie. You gotta rent this if you haven’t seen it yet.
Rocket Attack
During the late evening hours many of us hear an unusual explosive sound originating from the west side of the base. It was confirmed that an enemy combatant had launched a rocket mortar attack from the east side aiming for one of the flying helicopters. The rocket missed the aircraft and flew over the base and blew up on the other side just outside of the perimeter. Fortunately, no one is injured here but nevertheless the close call frays our nerves as we await possible new attacks…
Combat Rescue Saves: it’s official – we have 20 confirmed saves!
P.S. – Happy Birthday to my Dad!
For most of the tour, the aircrews have been chanting weird phrases like, “Durka, Durka, Durka” and “Sherpa, Sherpa, Sherpa, Mohammed Jihad.” I just thought it was one of those made-up things that simply caught on and that I had missed the inside joke. But, if you recognize the phrases, then you saw the movie, “Team America” the puppet-movie made by the makers of “South Park” a couple years back. Someone purchased a copy from the bazaar and I saw it for the first time tonight. Oh my god – this is one absolutely hysterical movie! Ironically, it is also a good parody of Operation Enduring Freedom. A key scene is where one of the heroes – the “actor” – gets dressed up as a muslim and attempts to infiltrate a terrorist organization. At the gate, the patrol interrogates him in Arabic and starts to get more irritated with the actor’s lack of a response. Just as the actor was about to blow his cover, he starts to blurt out a random Arabic phrase, “Durka, Durka, Durka. Mohammed Jihad. Park Sherpa, Sherpa, Sherpa. Mohammed Jihad.” The patrol is pleased, then acknowledges, “Ahhhhhhh. Durka, Durka, Durka. Mohammed Jihad” and lets the actor pass through. Many of us were laughing and rolling on the floor watching this movie. You gotta rent this if you haven’t seen it yet.
Rocket Attack
During the late evening hours many of us hear an unusual explosive sound originating from the west side of the base. It was confirmed that an enemy combatant had launched a rocket mortar attack from the east side aiming for one of the flying helicopters. The rocket missed the aircraft and flew over the base and blew up on the other side just outside of the perimeter. Fortunately, no one is injured here but nevertheless the close call frays our nerves as we await possible new attacks…
Combat Rescue Saves: it’s official – we have 20 confirmed saves!
P.S. – Happy Birthday to my Dad!
DAY 35: New York, New York…
Fri, 30 September 2005
The entire New York crew arrived on station and will soon be taking over the reins of this combat rescue operation from our folks. What’s interesting about our sister unit is their location on Long Island, New York. Many individuals possess a strong New York accent (i.e. “looongisland”) and in regular conversation it soon becomes clearly evident to anyone outside of our two organizations who is from California and who is from New York. My replacement loggie, Richard, has a strong accent as well. Inevitably, in our conversations I start to unconsciously pick up on his accent. A little ironic given that I am a native New Yorker myself…
The Perfect Storm
The New York combat rescue team possesses a few famous folks back at home station. Lt Col Dave Ruvola was the Duty Officer while we were both deployed together in Kuwait in 1993. I later discovered that he was also the pilot for the rescue helicopter that went down attempting to rescue a crew on a sinking ship in the monstrous October, 1991 storm – the same event which was featured in the book and movie, “The Perfect Storm.” Extraordinary men facing life-threatening conditions in an once-in-a-lifetime event.
Fallen Soldiers #11 and #12
Combat Rescue Saves #18, #19 and #20
P.S. – I got my third piece of mail today – thank you Locke!
The entire New York crew arrived on station and will soon be taking over the reins of this combat rescue operation from our folks. What’s interesting about our sister unit is their location on Long Island, New York. Many individuals possess a strong New York accent (i.e. “looongisland”) and in regular conversation it soon becomes clearly evident to anyone outside of our two organizations who is from California and who is from New York. My replacement loggie, Richard, has a strong accent as well. Inevitably, in our conversations I start to unconsciously pick up on his accent. A little ironic given that I am a native New Yorker myself…
The Perfect Storm
The New York combat rescue team possesses a few famous folks back at home station. Lt Col Dave Ruvola was the Duty Officer while we were both deployed together in Kuwait in 1993. I later discovered that he was also the pilot for the rescue helicopter that went down attempting to rescue a crew on a sinking ship in the monstrous October, 1991 storm – the same event which was featured in the book and movie, “The Perfect Storm.” Extraordinary men facing life-threatening conditions in an once-in-a-lifetime event.
Fallen Soldiers #11 and #12
Combat Rescue Saves #18, #19 and #20
P.S. – I got my third piece of mail today – thank you Locke!
DAY 34: Pararescuemen
Thu, 29 September 2005
The pararescuemen – affectionately known as “PJs” – are the combat rescuers that provide on-the-spot medical treatment for patients out in the field. One of their unclassified and non-combat rescue missions is to provide field health care for the local Afghans. Outside of Afghanistan’s major cities, a majority of people don’t have access to health care facilities and thus suffer from various medical conditions that are usually easily treatable. Thus, when the PJs open a temporary clinic, word travels quickly with many Afghans traveling hours to attain this free health care service. Children in particular comprise a large portion of these patients. Many Afghan kids are injured due to contact with an Improvised Explosive Device (IED). IEDs are custom-made, small explosive devices designed to kill or maim anyone who touches them. The Taliban, al-Qaeda and other enemy forces will scatter these IEDs along the roads with the intent of taking out a Coalition vehicle and its passengers. Unfortunately, some kids will come upon these dangerous devices without realizing its danger until too late. Thus, the PJ’s medical role is vital in providing on-the-spot medical attention for a community of people with no health care access.
The pararescuemen – affectionately known as “PJs” – are the combat rescuers that provide on-the-spot medical treatment for patients out in the field. One of their unclassified and non-combat rescue missions is to provide field health care for the local Afghans. Outside of Afghanistan’s major cities, a majority of people don’t have access to health care facilities and thus suffer from various medical conditions that are usually easily treatable. Thus, when the PJs open a temporary clinic, word travels quickly with many Afghans traveling hours to attain this free health care service. Children in particular comprise a large portion of these patients. Many Afghan kids are injured due to contact with an Improvised Explosive Device (IED). IEDs are custom-made, small explosive devices designed to kill or maim anyone who touches them. The Taliban, al-Qaeda and other enemy forces will scatter these IEDs along the roads with the intent of taking out a Coalition vehicle and its passengers. Unfortunately, some kids will come upon these dangerous devices without realizing its danger until too late. Thus, the PJ’s medical role is vital in providing on-the-spot medical attention for a community of people with no health care access.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
DAY 33: Another Fallen Soldier
Wed, 28 September 2005
For the ceremony two days ago, I marched off the ramp with the group upon the ceremony’s termination. However, for today’s procession, I stayed behind and waited at the aircraft ramp to pay my respects to this deceased individual. The Army Rangers who were the pallbearers stayed inside the aircraft with the casket the entire time as the many soldiers passed by and paid their respects. As the last person to enter the aircraft, I got to witness something very special. The rangers circled the casket and then knelt in prayer. It was one of the most emotional moments I’ve witnessed in my life – especially with grown men in distraught and with tears streaming down their cheeks. You could feel the intense pain as each one said goodbye to their buddy and friend. Those of us who witnessed this poignant moment were trying our best to hold it together. Though my job does not bring me out to the front lines, this assignment has placed me in a front-row seat right next to the battlefield action. The passing of each one of these brave soldiers has made a permanent mark on our heavy hearts. Their lives will not be forgotten…
For the ceremony two days ago, I marched off the ramp with the group upon the ceremony’s termination. However, for today’s procession, I stayed behind and waited at the aircraft ramp to pay my respects to this deceased individual. The Army Rangers who were the pallbearers stayed inside the aircraft with the casket the entire time as the many soldiers passed by and paid their respects. As the last person to enter the aircraft, I got to witness something very special. The rangers circled the casket and then knelt in prayer. It was one of the most emotional moments I’ve witnessed in my life – especially with grown men in distraught and with tears streaming down their cheeks. You could feel the intense pain as each one said goodbye to their buddy and friend. Those of us who witnessed this poignant moment were trying our best to hold it together. Though my job does not bring me out to the front lines, this assignment has placed me in a front-row seat right next to the battlefield action. The passing of each one of these brave soldiers has made a permanent mark on our heavy hearts. Their lives will not be forgotten…
DAY 32: Brown Out
Tue, 27 September 2005
The advance team from the New York unit arrived and performed a familiarization flight with our guys. One of their crewmembers filmed the other helo as it approached the ground for a landing. Though very shaky, the video captures the essence of what we call a “brown out.” Do you recall that I had previously mentioned how very dusty it was here? Well, just imagine the dust and dirt at the texture level of fine talcum powder. So, as the rotors approached the ground, a cloud of brown dust begins to stir. Finally, it becomes larger and more elongated with the forward motion of the helo. When the helicopter finally lands, a full-blown brown cloud completely envelopes the helo and it totally disappears from sight. From the aircrew’s description, it’s total blindness and challenges the skill set of every crewmember on board to ensure a safe landing of the aircraft.
Fallen Soldiers #9 and #10
The advance team from the New York unit arrived and performed a familiarization flight with our guys. One of their crewmembers filmed the other helo as it approached the ground for a landing. Though very shaky, the video captures the essence of what we call a “brown out.” Do you recall that I had previously mentioned how very dusty it was here? Well, just imagine the dust and dirt at the texture level of fine talcum powder. So, as the rotors approached the ground, a cloud of brown dust begins to stir. Finally, it becomes larger and more elongated with the forward motion of the helo. When the helicopter finally lands, a full-blown brown cloud completely envelopes the helo and it totally disappears from sight. From the aircrew’s description, it’s total blindness and challenges the skill set of every crewmember on board to ensure a safe landing of the aircraft.
Fallen Soldiers #9 and #10
DAY 31: Fallen Soldiers
Mon, 26 September 2005
When a coalition member is killed here in Afghanistan, the whole base assembles at the aircraft ramp for the Fallen Soldier ceremony – a solemn military tribute to honor and send off the dead soldier(s). From afar, I’ve witness the ceremony while I was on the other side of the ramp unloading our cargo early in our tour. However, this was my first opportunity to attend a ceremony in person.
We assembled around midday in the hot Afghanistan sun into groups we’re assigned to. The Air Force members coalesce into one large group and in turn several Army units and Coalition forces gather into their recognizable formations. Our first sergeant then marches us onto the flightline right up to the aircraft’s ramp. The group halts and then performs a “left face”. Across the 10-foot wide corridor, another group halts and performs a “right face”. Additional units follow suit and soon there is a huge gathering of troops in a perfect formation with a long corridor provided for the procession. We wait for about 15 minutes and then the ceremony begins.
A Scottish bagpipe starts off the procession by playing a tribute song to honor the fallen soldiers. I’m not familiar with the song’s name, but it’s a tune familiar to us all and very solemn in nature. It immediately sets the tone for this event. Soon, five HMMMVs pull up and park alongside the formation. Each vehicle contains a casket with a draped American flag containing a deceased member from the previous day’s crash. Surrounding the deceased are eight soldiers who then unload the casket and become the pallbearers. A ninth soldier appears from the passenger seat and follows right behind each casket as if he is “protecting the head.”
The entire formation is then ordered to “Present Arms”, a marching order for each member to render a sharp salute. Each group of pallbearers then begins a double-time step to proceed down the corridor and towards the aircraft ramp. As each casket passes by, the enormity of the situation starts to hit each and every one of us. Emotions run high as the passing of each deceased soldier marks another poignant moment. The heartrending event finally starts to impact us on an individual level – I can hear troops all around me start to sniffle and tear up. Soon, even I become overwhelmed by this touching ceremony and begin to tear up as well. Given the duration of the event and our aching arms, not a single soldier or airman drops their salute. When the final casket passes by, an announcement is made to “Order Arms” in which we complete our salute and bring our tired arms down to our sides.
During the entire ceremony, dust devils formed along the runway and moved in the direction of the formation. Several of these vortices passed close by – close enough to witness the details of the swirling vortex and the associated debris field. I’m not a particularly religious person, but if you look deeply into this scene you could see a metaphor in it. With the passing of each dust devil, a soldier’s spirit was being lifted to a higher place. Wherever their souls are, may they rest in peace.
Fallen Soldiers #9 and #10Combat Rescue Save #15
When a coalition member is killed here in Afghanistan, the whole base assembles at the aircraft ramp for the Fallen Soldier ceremony – a solemn military tribute to honor and send off the dead soldier(s). From afar, I’ve witness the ceremony while I was on the other side of the ramp unloading our cargo early in our tour. However, this was my first opportunity to attend a ceremony in person.
We assembled around midday in the hot Afghanistan sun into groups we’re assigned to. The Air Force members coalesce into one large group and in turn several Army units and Coalition forces gather into their recognizable formations. Our first sergeant then marches us onto the flightline right up to the aircraft’s ramp. The group halts and then performs a “left face”. Across the 10-foot wide corridor, another group halts and performs a “right face”. Additional units follow suit and soon there is a huge gathering of troops in a perfect formation with a long corridor provided for the procession. We wait for about 15 minutes and then the ceremony begins.
A Scottish bagpipe starts off the procession by playing a tribute song to honor the fallen soldiers. I’m not familiar with the song’s name, but it’s a tune familiar to us all and very solemn in nature. It immediately sets the tone for this event. Soon, five HMMMVs pull up and park alongside the formation. Each vehicle contains a casket with a draped American flag containing a deceased member from the previous day’s crash. Surrounding the deceased are eight soldiers who then unload the casket and become the pallbearers. A ninth soldier appears from the passenger seat and follows right behind each casket as if he is “protecting the head.”
The entire formation is then ordered to “Present Arms”, a marching order for each member to render a sharp salute. Each group of pallbearers then begins a double-time step to proceed down the corridor and towards the aircraft ramp. As each casket passes by, the enormity of the situation starts to hit each and every one of us. Emotions run high as the passing of each deceased soldier marks another poignant moment. The heartrending event finally starts to impact us on an individual level – I can hear troops all around me start to sniffle and tear up. Soon, even I become overwhelmed by this touching ceremony and begin to tear up as well. Given the duration of the event and our aching arms, not a single soldier or airman drops their salute. When the final casket passes by, an announcement is made to “Order Arms” in which we complete our salute and bring our tired arms down to our sides.
During the entire ceremony, dust devils formed along the runway and moved in the direction of the formation. Several of these vortices passed close by – close enough to witness the details of the swirling vortex and the associated debris field. I’m not a particularly religious person, but if you look deeply into this scene you could see a metaphor in it. With the passing of each dust devil, a soldier’s spirit was being lifted to a higher place. Wherever their souls are, may they rest in peace.
Fallen Soldiers #9 and #10Combat Rescue Save #15
Monday, September 26, 2005
DAY 30: Tragedy Strikes
Sun, 25 September 2005
I’m sure most of you have already heard it on the news – a major incident here in which a CH-47 Chinook helicopter went down killing the five aircrew members. We’re struck by the tragedy and start to mobilize just in case there is a need for a combat rescue. But the news is grim and the recovery crew confirms that no one onboard survived the crash. I was amazed at how quickly CNN picked up this incident – just a few minutes after us – and we’re here in Afghanistan. Although I do not personally know the soldiers, I know that there are now five grieving families back home in the states. When we forget how dangerous our situation is, an event like this brings it all back to focus.
Fallen Soldiers #4, #5, #6, #7 and #8
I’m sure most of you have already heard it on the news – a major incident here in which a CH-47 Chinook helicopter went down killing the five aircrew members. We’re struck by the tragedy and start to mobilize just in case there is a need for a combat rescue. But the news is grim and the recovery crew confirms that no one onboard survived the crash. I was amazed at how quickly CNN picked up this incident – just a few minutes after us – and we’re here in Afghanistan. Although I do not personally know the soldiers, I know that there are now five grieving families back home in the states. When we forget how dangerous our situation is, an event like this brings it all back to focus.
Fallen Soldiers #4, #5, #6, #7 and #8
DAY 29: Bizarre Bazaar
Sat, 24 September 2005
Finally got a chance for some non-work related activity. The bazaar is a weekly event that’s held just outside of the main gate. Due to security concerns, only a certain amount of folks are allowed off-post at any given time. So, we all wait 15-30 minutes and when one person returns another is allowed to leave. We proceed thru a long corridor that has barb-wired fences on both sides. The corridor ends at a road, in which we wearily watch the local Afghans drive by – weaving all over the road no less – and then cross into the bazaar. If you’ve ever been to a bazaar – let’s say, in Mexico or a third-world nation – then you’ll be quite familiar with the one that I attended to. Lots of local vendors peddling everything from pirated DVDs to currency to fake antiques to women’s dresses to Afghan rugs with the intent of the buyer bargaining to make a good sale. However, my intent was to just take pictures and get a lay of the land.
I did notice that the vendors were from different areas within Afghanistan – contrary to a misperception, there is no single “Afghan” identity. Instead, there are various ethnic groups, with the local Pushtans dominating the cultural and political power in Afghanistan. Some folks wore turbans, others wore a small beaded cap that sits on the back of the head, while others wore no headgear at all. Of course, all spoke some English and the one’s that had a master of the language got better sales. A few vendors were a just bit aggressive – I kept walking and they kept following! Well, as hard as they tried to make a sell, in the end I persisted and took pictures of the vendors, their items, and the bazaar. For most of us, this will likely be our only contact with the local Afghans. I made the most of it and then headed back to post. An interesting day soaking up a little bit of Afghan culture.
Finally got a chance for some non-work related activity. The bazaar is a weekly event that’s held just outside of the main gate. Due to security concerns, only a certain amount of folks are allowed off-post at any given time. So, we all wait 15-30 minutes and when one person returns another is allowed to leave. We proceed thru a long corridor that has barb-wired fences on both sides. The corridor ends at a road, in which we wearily watch the local Afghans drive by – weaving all over the road no less – and then cross into the bazaar. If you’ve ever been to a bazaar – let’s say, in Mexico or a third-world nation – then you’ll be quite familiar with the one that I attended to. Lots of local vendors peddling everything from pirated DVDs to currency to fake antiques to women’s dresses to Afghan rugs with the intent of the buyer bargaining to make a good sale. However, my intent was to just take pictures and get a lay of the land.
I did notice that the vendors were from different areas within Afghanistan – contrary to a misperception, there is no single “Afghan” identity. Instead, there are various ethnic groups, with the local Pushtans dominating the cultural and political power in Afghanistan. Some folks wore turbans, others wore a small beaded cap that sits on the back of the head, while others wore no headgear at all. Of course, all spoke some English and the one’s that had a master of the language got better sales. A few vendors were a just bit aggressive – I kept walking and they kept following! Well, as hard as they tried to make a sell, in the end I persisted and took pictures of the vendors, their items, and the bazaar. For most of us, this will likely be our only contact with the local Afghans. I made the most of it and then headed back to post. An interesting day soaking up a little bit of Afghan culture.
DAY 28: Air Force vs. Army
Fri, 23 September 2005
My entire military career has been spent in the Air Force with assignments on Air Force bases. While this sounds completely logical, my former job as a weatherman had a better than 50% chance of getting an Army assignment since there were no Army weather folks. This deployment is the first time that I’ve been assigned to an Army post. So, how different are things you ask? Just ask any former or current military member and they’ll mention the different attitudes, lifestyle, acronyms and even lingo. Yes, a different language for the same basic principle. So, what brought this up? I guess it was my first Information Management Officer (IMO) meeting with the Army folks today. There were just two of us Air Force guys in a sea of Army green within this conference room. Naturally, the entire discussion focused around Army terms, lingo and acronyms. I get bits and pieces and the jist of the conversation. Given my experience down under, for all I know these guys could have been the Aussies! Okay, some differences between us flyboys in the Air Force and the grunts in the Army:
Same concept, but different word:
AF Base vs. Army Post
AF Wing vs. Army Brigade
AF Squadron vs. Army Battalion
AF Flight vs. Army Company
AF Airman vs. Army Soldier
AF BX (Base Exchange) vs. Army PX (Post Exchange)
AF AFSC (AF Specialty Code) vs. Army MOS (Military Occupation Specialty)
AF WGM (Work Group Manager) vs. Army IMO (Information Management Officer)
Same word, but different concept:
AF Billets (carpeted room with bed, couch and TV) vs. Army Billets (bare room with 4 walls and a bed)
AF Camping (tents with air conditioning) vs. Army Camping (field conditions in a sleeping bag)
AF Pilots (Officers O-1 thru O-9) vs. Army Pilots (Warrant Officers WO-1 thru WO-4)
AF Master Sergeant (E-7) vs. Army Master Sergeant (E-8)
AF Staff Sergeant (E-5) vs. Army Staff Sergeant (E-6)
AF Private (means do not enter) vs. Army Private (means a low-ranking soldier)
After all that is said and done, ultimately we’re here to support one another in this harsh climate and dangerous situation. Our combat rescue mission focuses on recovering any friendly forces in trouble and in dire need of emergency medical attention – this includes our Army brethren. When things get tough, we all put away our differences and jump in to assist a fellow American – because THAT’S the bottom line for all of us.
Combat Rescue Saves #13 and #14
My entire military career has been spent in the Air Force with assignments on Air Force bases. While this sounds completely logical, my former job as a weatherman had a better than 50% chance of getting an Army assignment since there were no Army weather folks. This deployment is the first time that I’ve been assigned to an Army post. So, how different are things you ask? Just ask any former or current military member and they’ll mention the different attitudes, lifestyle, acronyms and even lingo. Yes, a different language for the same basic principle. So, what brought this up? I guess it was my first Information Management Officer (IMO) meeting with the Army folks today. There were just two of us Air Force guys in a sea of Army green within this conference room. Naturally, the entire discussion focused around Army terms, lingo and acronyms. I get bits and pieces and the jist of the conversation. Given my experience down under, for all I know these guys could have been the Aussies! Okay, some differences between us flyboys in the Air Force and the grunts in the Army:
Same concept, but different word:
AF Base vs. Army Post
AF Wing vs. Army Brigade
AF Squadron vs. Army Battalion
AF Flight vs. Army Company
AF Airman vs. Army Soldier
AF BX (Base Exchange) vs. Army PX (Post Exchange)
AF AFSC (AF Specialty Code) vs. Army MOS (Military Occupation Specialty)
AF WGM (Work Group Manager) vs. Army IMO (Information Management Officer)
Same word, but different concept:
AF Billets (carpeted room with bed, couch and TV) vs. Army Billets (bare room with 4 walls and a bed)
AF Camping (tents with air conditioning) vs. Army Camping (field conditions in a sleeping bag)
AF Pilots (Officers O-1 thru O-9) vs. Army Pilots (Warrant Officers WO-1 thru WO-4)
AF Master Sergeant (E-7) vs. Army Master Sergeant (E-8)
AF Staff Sergeant (E-5) vs. Army Staff Sergeant (E-6)
AF Private (means do not enter) vs. Army Private (means a low-ranking soldier)
After all that is said and done, ultimately we’re here to support one another in this harsh climate and dangerous situation. Our combat rescue mission focuses on recovering any friendly forces in trouble and in dire need of emergency medical attention – this includes our Army brethren. When things get tough, we all put away our differences and jump in to assist a fellow American – because THAT’S the bottom line for all of us.
Combat Rescue Saves #13 and #14
Friday, September 23, 2005
DAY 27: Do I look like a Travel Agent?
Thu, 22 September 2005
As a loggie, it’s time for me to finalize our homeward bound journey. While the details are classified, I can say this: we’ll be on 9 travel segments including: military, contracted, and commercial flights; and military, contracted and commercial ground transportation modes. Johanna and Robin are the loggie gurus for the Renegades – they would appreciate what I’m going thru. The hard part: everyone has a different opinion on how fast/slow they would like to proceed home. A few folks at the senior command level discuss the pros and cons for each variation for several hours. Finally, I press the commander to make the final decision. Again, not everyone will be pleased. But ultimately this is a military movement and we must make decisions that best suits the group to move us from Afghanistan to our home station in an expedient, yet efficient manner. I finally send the details over a secured network back to our home station. To confirm receipt, I call my boss. After reviewing the message, he mentions “Do I look like a Travel Agent?” We both bust out laughing and then call it a night – well at least for me. It’s 2:30am (next day) and I can now finally retire to bed after a LONG, but fruitful day.
Tour Extension
BTW, it is now official – I will be staying behind for two extra weeks with a few others to move a very large piece of cargo back to the states. The reason is that this is a high-priority mission and my role as a loggie is essential to make the cargo movement happen. So, my end of tour is now mid-October. Such is the life of a loggie – first one in and last one out.
As a loggie, it’s time for me to finalize our homeward bound journey. While the details are classified, I can say this: we’ll be on 9 travel segments including: military, contracted, and commercial flights; and military, contracted and commercial ground transportation modes. Johanna and Robin are the loggie gurus for the Renegades – they would appreciate what I’m going thru. The hard part: everyone has a different opinion on how fast/slow they would like to proceed home. A few folks at the senior command level discuss the pros and cons for each variation for several hours. Finally, I press the commander to make the final decision. Again, not everyone will be pleased. But ultimately this is a military movement and we must make decisions that best suits the group to move us from Afghanistan to our home station in an expedient, yet efficient manner. I finally send the details over a secured network back to our home station. To confirm receipt, I call my boss. After reviewing the message, he mentions “Do I look like a Travel Agent?” We both bust out laughing and then call it a night – well at least for me. It’s 2:30am (next day) and I can now finally retire to bed after a LONG, but fruitful day.
Tour Extension
BTW, it is now official – I will be staying behind for two extra weeks with a few others to move a very large piece of cargo back to the states. The reason is that this is a high-priority mission and my role as a loggie is essential to make the cargo movement happen. So, my end of tour is now mid-October. Such is the life of a loggie – first one in and last one out.
DAY 26: Class Picture Day
Wed, 21 September 2005
I’m sure all of you have gone thru this at least once a year while we were all in school. The prerequisite group picture that requires everyone to assemble and pose. Yes, though we are in a combat zone, even we have one of these pictures for the hallway that marks every AEF (Air Expeditionary Force) cycle. The current Air Force military rotation is AEF 7 & 8, with AEF 7 assigned to Operation Enduring Freedom. The Renegades will understand this comment – SEVEN! Anyway, I digress.
It’s late afternoon and temps are in the high 90s. We assemble on the flightline and then the props are added: our rescue helicopter, a k-loader as a backstage platform and a security forces HMMMV to provide the complement of military equipment. First picture consists all of us from the Air Force Village and it’s a good picture of all the Air Force folks at this location. Afterwards, the folks from my home unit stand fast and we pull out a full-length American flag I had brought to this event. I acquired the very LAST flag from Supply and ensured that it was placed onboard the rescue helicopters to fly the skies of Afghanistan for several combat rescue missions. Ultimately, the intention is that our deployed group will be presenting this flag to our home unit upon our return. So, with flag on hand, I directed several folks to begin the ceremonial unfurling of this precious American symbol. We then carefully lifted the flag onto the k-loader so the top would be secured along the railing. Another group pulled out the bottom and in a tilted position, old glory was in its full display. Finally, all of us from my home unit reassembled and we gave our best pose. The photographers were on top of an elevated platform and took some great pictures. This moment will likely be the one that lasts a lifetime in our home unit’s display case.
I’m sure all of you have gone thru this at least once a year while we were all in school. The prerequisite group picture that requires everyone to assemble and pose. Yes, though we are in a combat zone, even we have one of these pictures for the hallway that marks every AEF (Air Expeditionary Force) cycle. The current Air Force military rotation is AEF 7 & 8, with AEF 7 assigned to Operation Enduring Freedom. The Renegades will understand this comment – SEVEN! Anyway, I digress.
It’s late afternoon and temps are in the high 90s. We assemble on the flightline and then the props are added: our rescue helicopter, a k-loader as a backstage platform and a security forces HMMMV to provide the complement of military equipment. First picture consists all of us from the Air Force Village and it’s a good picture of all the Air Force folks at this location. Afterwards, the folks from my home unit stand fast and we pull out a full-length American flag I had brought to this event. I acquired the very LAST flag from Supply and ensured that it was placed onboard the rescue helicopters to fly the skies of Afghanistan for several combat rescue missions. Ultimately, the intention is that our deployed group will be presenting this flag to our home unit upon our return. So, with flag on hand, I directed several folks to begin the ceremonial unfurling of this precious American symbol. We then carefully lifted the flag onto the k-loader so the top would be secured along the railing. Another group pulled out the bottom and in a tilted position, old glory was in its full display. Finally, all of us from my home unit reassembled and we gave our best pose. The photographers were on top of an elevated platform and took some great pictures. This moment will likely be the one that lasts a lifetime in our home unit’s display case.
DAY 25: Car Wash
Tue, 20 September 2005
Think of the song, “Car Wash, working down at the car wash.” After completing the 2-day, 250 flying hour maintenance, it was now time to conduct a fresh-water rinse of the helo. Night has fallen and the Maintenance Chief informs me that I should go down to the ramp to watch the crew wash the helicopter. One of the maintainers was utilizing a high-power sprayer – similar to the equipment that you’ll find at a self-service car wash. Connected to this sprayer was a large plastic container – known as a water buffalo in military lingo – containing 500 gallons of fresh water. Finally, a John Deere tractor was required to bring this contraption over to the helicopter’s parking space. Another maintainer, Jim, drove the tractor and we all commented that he looked very much like “Farmer Jim” as he drove along. He then informs us that his middle name is Bob. Considering that he is half Asian and his name is “Jim Bob”, we all started to bust out in laughter. One of those funny and ironic moments that makes this deployment special.
Combat Rescue Save #12
P.S. – I got my second piece of mail today – thank you Lesa B!
Think of the song, “Car Wash, working down at the car wash.” After completing the 2-day, 250 flying hour maintenance, it was now time to conduct a fresh-water rinse of the helo. Night has fallen and the Maintenance Chief informs me that I should go down to the ramp to watch the crew wash the helicopter. One of the maintainers was utilizing a high-power sprayer – similar to the equipment that you’ll find at a self-service car wash. Connected to this sprayer was a large plastic container – known as a water buffalo in military lingo – containing 500 gallons of fresh water. Finally, a John Deere tractor was required to bring this contraption over to the helicopter’s parking space. Another maintainer, Jim, drove the tractor and we all commented that he looked very much like “Farmer Jim” as he drove along. He then informs us that his middle name is Bob. Considering that he is half Asian and his name is “Jim Bob”, we all started to bust out in laughter. One of those funny and ironic moments that makes this deployment special.
Combat Rescue Save #12
P.S. – I got my second piece of mail today – thank you Lesa B!
DAY 24: The Maintainers
Mon, 19 September 2005
One of the key elements in making our mission successful is the aircraft maintenance required to keep the helicopters in tip-top shape. While the pilots and aircrew get all the glory for the combat rescue missions, it is the maintainers behind the scenes that ensure the aircraft are always ready to fly at a moment’s notice.
One of the birds reached its 250 flying hour mark today – in car terms, that’s similar to the 100,000 mileage mark – and thus it required an extensive maintenance check of lubrication and parts to ensure things were running smoothly. This includes an evaluation of the sophisticated electronics that distinguishes our helicopters from regular civilian helicopters (i.e. traffic helicopters). Compound this with the ever-prevalent dust that permeates EVERYTHING – and it’s a tough challenge that drives our maintainers to go the extra mile in ensuring that the aircraft is in a safe and flyable condition. I’m truly amazed at their professionalism and dedication to the job. A very cool bunch of guys.
P.S. – I got my first piece of mail today – thank you Sheila P!
One of the key elements in making our mission successful is the aircraft maintenance required to keep the helicopters in tip-top shape. While the pilots and aircrew get all the glory for the combat rescue missions, it is the maintainers behind the scenes that ensure the aircraft are always ready to fly at a moment’s notice.
One of the birds reached its 250 flying hour mark today – in car terms, that’s similar to the 100,000 mileage mark – and thus it required an extensive maintenance check of lubrication and parts to ensure things were running smoothly. This includes an evaluation of the sophisticated electronics that distinguishes our helicopters from regular civilian helicopters (i.e. traffic helicopters). Compound this with the ever-prevalent dust that permeates EVERYTHING – and it’s a tough challenge that drives our maintainers to go the extra mile in ensuring that the aircraft is in a safe and flyable condition. I’m truly amazed at their professionalism and dedication to the job. A very cool bunch of guys.
P.S. – I got my first piece of mail today – thank you Sheila P!
Monday, September 19, 2005
DAY 23: Afghan Elections
Sun, 18 September 2005
Today marks a historic day – the first parliamentary elections in over three decades for the Afghan people. Everyone here has been a little on edge as the Taliban has been doing everything in its power to disrupt, threaten and even kill people to stop these elections. However, it appears that the Afghan people succeeded in the end and the elections went forward as scheduled. Still, it is tragic that 15 people lost their lives because of the violence. What a brave struggle in the face of such adversity – you have to admire their strength and persistence to vote with their lives at stake. To witness democracy emerge is truly a landmark event – and even more so knowing that I am right here at ground zero as it emerges and comes to fruition.
Fallen Soldier #3 (French commando)
Note: you may require a free online New York Times subscription to view one of the links
Today marks a historic day – the first parliamentary elections in over three decades for the Afghan people. Everyone here has been a little on edge as the Taliban has been doing everything in its power to disrupt, threaten and even kill people to stop these elections. However, it appears that the Afghan people succeeded in the end and the elections went forward as scheduled. Still, it is tragic that 15 people lost their lives because of the violence. What a brave struggle in the face of such adversity – you have to admire their strength and persistence to vote with their lives at stake. To witness democracy emerge is truly a landmark event – and even more so knowing that I am right here at ground zero as it emerges and comes to fruition.
Fallen Soldier #3 (French commando)
Note: you may require a free online New York Times subscription to view one of the links
DAY 22: Where’s the Steering Wheel?
Sat, 17 September 2005
Another paradigm change is the driving. Although we are confined to the base for our own safety, many vehicles are leased from the local economy. 3 of our vehicles have the English-style car – replete with steering wheel on the opposite side. One of the pickups is a manual, so that provides an additional challenge for many of my coworkers. For me though, it’s kinda fun. The shift pattern, pedals, and gauges are all identical in placement. The only confusing thing is the placement of the directional signal and window wiper stalks – they are reversed from what we’re used to, so the initial tendency is to turn on the window wiper when making a turn. Happens every time to a rookie driver. So, while this rookie is cursing the car, I quietly chuckle in amusement knowing that I went thru the same routine myself.
Another paradigm change is the driving. Although we are confined to the base for our own safety, many vehicles are leased from the local economy. 3 of our vehicles have the English-style car – replete with steering wheel on the opposite side. One of the pickups is a manual, so that provides an additional challenge for many of my coworkers. For me though, it’s kinda fun. The shift pattern, pedals, and gauges are all identical in placement. The only confusing thing is the placement of the directional signal and window wiper stalks – they are reversed from what we’re used to, so the initial tendency is to turn on the window wiper when making a turn. Happens every time to a rookie driver. So, while this rookie is cursing the car, I quietly chuckle in amusement knowing that I went thru the same routine myself.
DAY 21: Canadian, Eh?
Fri, 16 September 2005
The base I’m at is a true Coalition Force. Today, I decided to walk to the Pax Terminal to start coordinating our return flight home – woohoo! As I’m walking down the street, a bunch of funky looking Canadian tanks pass me by. The reason they look unusual is because these “tanks” have real wheels vs. the typical tank treadmills. Plus, in the back are a couple of open seats that soldiers can sit in and look around – sort of like “parade-style” viewing. The Canadians are a little special to me – my first cousins – John and Susan – live in the Bay Area and both were originally from the Great White North. Plus, the uniforms for the Canadian Forces are just plain cool!
The base I’m at is a true Coalition Force. Today, I decided to walk to the Pax Terminal to start coordinating our return flight home – woohoo! As I’m walking down the street, a bunch of funky looking Canadian tanks pass me by. The reason they look unusual is because these “tanks” have real wheels vs. the typical tank treadmills. Plus, in the back are a couple of open seats that soldiers can sit in and look around – sort of like “parade-style” viewing. The Canadians are a little special to me – my first cousins – John and Susan – live in the Bay Area and both were originally from the Great White North. Plus, the uniforms for the Canadian Forces are just plain cool!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
DAY 20: Things that go Boom!
Thu, 15 September 2005
Woke up this morning to an EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) announcement of a pending explosion. The EOD folks regularly blow up mines around the base that were left by the Soviets in their war with Afghanistan in the 1980s (1979-89). The explosion occurs on the other side of the base – about 1 mile away. Yet, my bed and room rocks as if it’s an earthquake – wow! Several of these explosions occur, then an announcement comes indicating that EOD is done for the day. When we first arrived and heard these booms, many of us weren’t sure if we were being attacked or if it was a scheduled event. The nervousness of the first few days has given away to a guarded anticipation of these events. One of those things that completely changes your paradigm of what a “normal day” is.
Woke up this morning to an EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) announcement of a pending explosion. The EOD folks regularly blow up mines around the base that were left by the Soviets in their war with Afghanistan in the 1980s (1979-89). The explosion occurs on the other side of the base – about 1 mile away. Yet, my bed and room rocks as if it’s an earthquake – wow! Several of these explosions occur, then an announcement comes indicating that EOD is done for the day. When we first arrived and heard these booms, many of us weren’t sure if we were being attacked or if it was a scheduled event. The nervousness of the first few days has given away to a guarded anticipation of these events. One of those things that completely changes your paradigm of what a “normal day” is.
DAY 19: Acting Duty Officer
Wed, 14 September 2005
One of those days where I have to step out of my loggie shoes and take on other responsibilities to ensure daily operations are maintained. A little hectic and a bit crazy at times, but the end of the day comes swiftly.
One of those days where I have to step out of my loggie shoes and take on other responsibilities to ensure daily operations are maintained. A little hectic and a bit crazy at times, but the end of the day comes swiftly.
DAY 18: Night Takeoff
Tue, 13 September 2005
Okay, just as I thought the evening launch was spectacular, the night ones are even more surreal. Cool moment – gibbous moon low in the sky, and the helo is stopped on the runway and is silhouetted against a runway light. Another Kodak moment missed, but one that is seared into my long-term memory.
Combat Rescue Save #11
Okay, just as I thought the evening launch was spectacular, the night ones are even more surreal. Cool moment – gibbous moon low in the sky, and the helo is stopped on the runway and is silhouetted against a runway light. Another Kodak moment missed, but one that is seared into my long-term memory.
Combat Rescue Save #11
DAY 17: Evening Launch
Mon, 12 September 2005
Got to witness an early evening takeoff of our helicopters. Absolutely spectacular to watch as the sun hangs low on the horizon and each helo taxis down the ramp. As each helo passes, we wave bye to our fellow airmen, huddle down for the rotor blast, watch it move onto the runway, and then lift off.
Combat Rescue Saves #8, #9, #10
Got to witness an early evening takeoff of our helicopters. Absolutely spectacular to watch as the sun hangs low on the horizon and each helo taxis down the ramp. As each helo passes, we wave bye to our fellow airmen, huddle down for the rotor blast, watch it move onto the runway, and then lift off.
Combat Rescue Saves #8, #9, #10
DAY 16: Day of Remembrance
Sun, 11 September 2005
In the early morning hours, I head over to a location on base to gather in an outdoor formation to honor the victims of 9/11. Several chaplains – including a Romanian – speak and at the end a 21-gun salute ensues followed by a bugle playing “Taps”. At this moment, many of us are on the verge of tears knowing the enormity of our presence – we are here to fight in al-Qaeda’s backyard for those 3000 or so lives that were taken four years ago. Although I will only be here a short time, I am honored to be serving in this war on behalf of our fallen Americans. Some interesting comments from another captain…
In the early morning hours, I head over to a location on base to gather in an outdoor formation to honor the victims of 9/11. Several chaplains – including a Romanian – speak and at the end a 21-gun salute ensues followed by a bugle playing “Taps”. At this moment, many of us are on the verge of tears knowing the enormity of our presence – we are here to fight in al-Qaeda’s backyard for those 3000 or so lives that were taken four years ago. Although I will only be here a short time, I am honored to be serving in this war on behalf of our fallen Americans. Some interesting comments from another captain…
DAY 15: Dust in the Wind
Sat, 10 September 2005
From morning until night, the winds pick up and we’re engulfed in a dust storm. Visibilities are limited to 1 mile the entire day. It’s a gray pitch that even distorts the sun when it is low in the horizon. Unfortunately, this dust is as fine as talcum powder and permeates everything: car vents, inside of your goggles, even your sinuses. My sinuses react to this by bleeding, so I get some saline sinus medication to help things out. I don’t know how the local Afghans breathe this air – it must do some terrible damage to their lungs over a lifetime. If there’s one thing I absolutely hate about this place – it’s the dust.
From morning until night, the winds pick up and we’re engulfed in a dust storm. Visibilities are limited to 1 mile the entire day. It’s a gray pitch that even distorts the sun when it is low in the horizon. Unfortunately, this dust is as fine as talcum powder and permeates everything: car vents, inside of your goggles, even your sinuses. My sinuses react to this by bleeding, so I get some saline sinus medication to help things out. I don’t know how the local Afghans breathe this air – it must do some terrible damage to their lungs over a lifetime. If there’s one thing I absolutely hate about this place – it’s the dust.
DAY 14: All Quiet on the Eastern Front
Fri, 9 September 2005
Wow, the minute I got here, it’s been 16-hour days – at a minimum. So much burden on each of our small shoulders to bear. Still the mission is incredible and adrenaline keeps us going as we tackle the many tasks to accomplish. But, after 10 days of this non-stop go-go-go, I’m worn out. Things finally slow down a bit so that I just put in a regular 12-hour day and score some much needed rest.
Wow, the minute I got here, it’s been 16-hour days – at a minimum. So much burden on each of our small shoulders to bear. Still the mission is incredible and adrenaline keeps us going as we tackle the many tasks to accomplish. But, after 10 days of this non-stop go-go-go, I’m worn out. Things finally slow down a bit so that I just put in a regular 12-hour day and score some much needed rest.
DAY 13: Dust Devils
Thu, 8 September 2005
I stop by the Motorpool to repair a vehicle’s flat tire. The workshop’s location is prime with a commanding view of the flightline. It’s in the middle of the afternoon, and I notice something moving along the flightline. It’s swirling and growing – a dust devil in the making. I just stand there and watch as several of these devils grown into semi-tornadoes a few hundred feet in vertical height. As it glides across the runway, it encounters a few tents in its path. No destruction, but I’m sure that the folks inside are a little perturbed with the invasion of dust and wind. After a couple of minutes the vortices soon die out and another one starts up.
I stop by the Motorpool to repair a vehicle’s flat tire. The workshop’s location is prime with a commanding view of the flightline. It’s in the middle of the afternoon, and I notice something moving along the flightline. It’s swirling and growing – a dust devil in the making. I just stand there and watch as several of these devils grown into semi-tornadoes a few hundred feet in vertical height. As it glides across the runway, it encounters a few tents in its path. No destruction, but I’m sure that the folks inside are a little perturbed with the invasion of dust and wind. After a couple of minutes the vortices soon die out and another one starts up.
DAY 12: Crescent Moon
Wed, 7 September 2005
Read about this upcoming planetary alignment in the “Astronomy” magazine that I brought. So, right around sunset I head out to the Maintenance Hangar to get a clear view of the western horizon. My expectations were high and I was definitely not disappointed. With all the dust and haze in the sky, the crescent moon appeared to hang there as if it was painted onto the sky’s background. Keep in mind that the crescent moon is also an important symbol in Muslim culture and given my location it was all the more surreal. Venus and Jupiter were also nearby and in conjunction with the moon the trio created a perfect alignment. Finally, add to this scenario our helicopters in the foreground in silhouette – and I had an absolutely stunning vision that was seared into my memory banks.
Combat Rescue Save #7
Read about this upcoming planetary alignment in the “Astronomy” magazine that I brought. So, right around sunset I head out to the Maintenance Hangar to get a clear view of the western horizon. My expectations were high and I was definitely not disappointed. With all the dust and haze in the sky, the crescent moon appeared to hang there as if it was painted onto the sky’s background. Keep in mind that the crescent moon is also an important symbol in Muslim culture and given my location it was all the more surreal. Venus and Jupiter were also nearby and in conjunction with the moon the trio created a perfect alignment. Finally, add to this scenario our helicopters in the foreground in silhouette – and I had an absolutely stunning vision that was seared into my memory banks.
Combat Rescue Save #7
DAY 11: Mail Call
Tue, 6 September 2005
Headed down to the military post office to pick up our mail. Each day of the week, a different squadron within the camp is tasked to pick up the mail. So, for my first time I’m thinking the amount will be a few letters and maybe some boxes. When I see our bin, I’m floored. It’s got boxes stacked all the way up to the ceiling! God, how am I going to lug all this stuff by myself back to the camp? After loading 3 large bins-worth of boxes, the pickup is completely full. I head back to camp and just before unloading I have to show a few of my coworkers the amount of mail I just picked up – their eyes are huge in amazement. But, even more flabbergasting is not just the amount, but the type of mail as well. Sitting on top of the heap was a guitar case – yes, you read it right – a guitar someone had mailed to a member here. I had to take a picture, because some folks didn’t believe it. Wow, now I’ve seen it all!
Headed down to the military post office to pick up our mail. Each day of the week, a different squadron within the camp is tasked to pick up the mail. So, for my first time I’m thinking the amount will be a few letters and maybe some boxes. When I see our bin, I’m floored. It’s got boxes stacked all the way up to the ceiling! God, how am I going to lug all this stuff by myself back to the camp? After loading 3 large bins-worth of boxes, the pickup is completely full. I head back to camp and just before unloading I have to show a few of my coworkers the amount of mail I just picked up – their eyes are huge in amazement. But, even more flabbergasting is not just the amount, but the type of mail as well. Sitting on top of the heap was a guitar case – yes, you read it right – a guitar someone had mailed to a member here. I had to take a picture, because some folks didn’t believe it. Wow, now I’ve seen it all!
DAY 10: Invasion of the Locusts
Mon, 5 September 2005
Not that I mind bugs that don’t bite. But when thousands of them all of a sudden swarm down on our camp – yikes! I’ve seen on TV the hoards that invade the Australian Outback. But to witness a locust swarm first hand is a little nerve wrecking. What’s really horrible is that the locusts came in droves and swarmed everywhere: into buildings, rooms, cars, shoes, EVERYWHERE. But just as quickly as they had appeared, within a day the swarm moved on to greener pastures. Whew, no more random locusts staring back at you from the floor as you go down to tie your shoes.
San Francisco Renegades update:
Gotta make a plug for my drum corps here: the Renegades achieved their first-ever Top 5 finish over the Labor Day weekend in the 2005 DCA World Championship finals with a score of 93.738. Congratulations everyone – you know how much I loved marching this season and miss you all!
Not that I mind bugs that don’t bite. But when thousands of them all of a sudden swarm down on our camp – yikes! I’ve seen on TV the hoards that invade the Australian Outback. But to witness a locust swarm first hand is a little nerve wrecking. What’s really horrible is that the locusts came in droves and swarmed everywhere: into buildings, rooms, cars, shoes, EVERYWHERE. But just as quickly as they had appeared, within a day the swarm moved on to greener pastures. Whew, no more random locusts staring back at you from the floor as you go down to tie your shoes.
San Francisco Renegades update:
Gotta make a plug for my drum corps here: the Renegades achieved their first-ever Top 5 finish over the Labor Day weekend in the 2005 DCA World Championship finals with a score of 93.738. Congratulations everyone – you know how much I loved marching this season and miss you all!
DAY 9: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly Afghans
Sun, 4 September 2005
Our flight doctor invites me to tag along for a visit to the local military hospital. This is the site where our combat saves come to recover if they aren’t in a critical condition. We are escorted to an area where the patients on the Coalition’s side are recovering. An interpreter and his brother stand by the bedsides to translate, so I inquire on the patient’s ages. I’m informed that most of them are between 17 and 20 years in age. I express my gratitude to them in helping us pursue the enemy and make a friendly gesture in which they acknowledge.
We then move to a cordoned off area of the hospital. Located in this separate room is an enemy combatant who is unconscious. Two guards are outside the door awaiting his wakening. I’m amazed at the amount of medical care provided to this patient who is our enemy. If the situation were reversed, would he show us as much mercy?
Combat Rescue Saves #5 and #6
Our flight doctor invites me to tag along for a visit to the local military hospital. This is the site where our combat saves come to recover if they aren’t in a critical condition. We are escorted to an area where the patients on the Coalition’s side are recovering. An interpreter and his brother stand by the bedsides to translate, so I inquire on the patient’s ages. I’m informed that most of them are between 17 and 20 years in age. I express my gratitude to them in helping us pursue the enemy and make a friendly gesture in which they acknowledge.
We then move to a cordoned off area of the hospital. Located in this separate room is an enemy combatant who is unconscious. Two guards are outside the door awaiting his wakening. I’m amazed at the amount of medical care provided to this patient who is our enemy. If the situation were reversed, would he show us as much mercy?
Combat Rescue Saves #5 and #6
DAY 8: Afghanistan Hot
Sat, 3 September 2005
I finally get a chance to perform my duties as a loggie on station. I greet each aircraft as it arrives and the Maintenance team and I start the unloading process of our cargo via k-loaders and forklifts. Really cool visual sight to witness incredibly heavy cargo slide along the k-loader as if it were gliding on thin air. The military did a great job in designing this process. As we pull out our rescue helicopter, the main rotors are folded back, which reminds me a little of a new wasp emerging from its cell. We drive the rolling stock – aka vehicles in military lingo – directly to our compound, while the rest of the cargo gets impounded in the inbound yard. I coordinate with the various agencies on base to later bring the inbound cargo into our compound.
We hire the KBR civilians, who were contracted to provide this service. KBR stands for Kellogg, Browning and Root – yes, the same subsidiary of Halliburton, ala Dick Cheney. Good, bad or indifferent of the political overtones, these guys are all civilians doing an admirable job in this dangerous location. Many of them are retired veterans and all have great attitudes.
A sidebar: over the course of the entire day, we’re out in the hot sun with temps in the low 100s and dusty as hell. With the Renegades, the rehearsal camp days in the hot Sacramento sun were referred to as “Africa Hot”. Well, I’m coining a term, “Afghanistan Hot”. That’s when it’s both hot AND dusty. Actually, I think our Mars camp may qualify for this description. Anyway, back to the cargo dialogue…
So, while it’s “Afghanistan Hot” outside, I’m directing where each pallet will be placed, while several KBR civilians on 30K forklifts and flatbed trailers are moving the cargo around. While most of this cargo movement proceeds rather routinely, the last pallet provides the greatest challenge. It has to be squeezed in at the end of a row of other pallets, but parked cars prevent clear access to this spot. So, what seems like 20 minutes or more, Tom – the forklift driver – and I go back and forth until it finally is squeezed in its spot. Amazed of this great feat of accomplishment, I shake his hand and give him a sharp salute. In jest, he comments, “You don’t give an old, rusty retired NCO a salute – especially an officer.” But I retort, “Yes, you do to someone with that much perseverance!” We say goodbye and I’m satisfied knowing that my job as a loggie is complete on the front end.
Fallen Soldier #2
I finally get a chance to perform my duties as a loggie on station. I greet each aircraft as it arrives and the Maintenance team and I start the unloading process of our cargo via k-loaders and forklifts. Really cool visual sight to witness incredibly heavy cargo slide along the k-loader as if it were gliding on thin air. The military did a great job in designing this process. As we pull out our rescue helicopter, the main rotors are folded back, which reminds me a little of a new wasp emerging from its cell. We drive the rolling stock – aka vehicles in military lingo – directly to our compound, while the rest of the cargo gets impounded in the inbound yard. I coordinate with the various agencies on base to later bring the inbound cargo into our compound.
We hire the KBR civilians, who were contracted to provide this service. KBR stands for Kellogg, Browning and Root – yes, the same subsidiary of Halliburton, ala Dick Cheney. Good, bad or indifferent of the political overtones, these guys are all civilians doing an admirable job in this dangerous location. Many of them are retired veterans and all have great attitudes.
A sidebar: over the course of the entire day, we’re out in the hot sun with temps in the low 100s and dusty as hell. With the Renegades, the rehearsal camp days in the hot Sacramento sun were referred to as “Africa Hot”. Well, I’m coining a term, “Afghanistan Hot”. That’s when it’s both hot AND dusty. Actually, I think our Mars camp may qualify for this description. Anyway, back to the cargo dialogue…
So, while it’s “Afghanistan Hot” outside, I’m directing where each pallet will be placed, while several KBR civilians on 30K forklifts and flatbed trailers are moving the cargo around. While most of this cargo movement proceeds rather routinely, the last pallet provides the greatest challenge. It has to be squeezed in at the end of a row of other pallets, but parked cars prevent clear access to this spot. So, what seems like 20 minutes or more, Tom – the forklift driver – and I go back and forth until it finally is squeezed in its spot. Amazed of this great feat of accomplishment, I shake his hand and give him a sharp salute. In jest, he comments, “You don’t give an old, rusty retired NCO a salute – especially an officer.” But I retort, “Yes, you do to someone with that much perseverance!” We say goodbye and I’m satisfied knowing that my job as a loggie is complete on the front end.
Fallen Soldier #2
DAY 7: Katrina & the Waves
Fri, 2 September 2005
While watching CNN, we start to realize the magnitude of Hurricane Katrina’s aftermath and the tragedy that starts to unfold in New Orleans with the flooding from the levee breaks. My brother-in-law’s sister and her husband recently moved back from overseas and had just settled in New Orleans with their baby triplets. Fortunately, they were out of town and out of harm’s way when the disaster struck. Still, to lose just about every personal possession is mind-boggling. My thoughts are with them as they start their lives all over.
We were informed that our unit is now doing double duty: a squadron of us is deployed out here in Afghanistan while our rescue helicopters and crews back at home station have been tasked to support the Hurricane Katrina aftermath. An official count so far indicated 212 lives saved (updated 9/16). My family also informs me that my brother is heading down there to help in the rescue and recovery effort. I’m distraught to hear that crazy idiots start to shoot at the rescue helicopters. This kind of behavior absolutely baffles me. What has gone wrong with our society to warrant this?
Note: Washington Post or San Jose Mercury News may require free online subscription to view the links in this chapter.
Combat Rescue Saves #3 and #4
Katrina Rescue Saves #1 thru #212
While watching CNN, we start to realize the magnitude of Hurricane Katrina’s aftermath and the tragedy that starts to unfold in New Orleans with the flooding from the levee breaks. My brother-in-law’s sister and her husband recently moved back from overseas and had just settled in New Orleans with their baby triplets. Fortunately, they were out of town and out of harm’s way when the disaster struck. Still, to lose just about every personal possession is mind-boggling. My thoughts are with them as they start their lives all over.
We were informed that our unit is now doing double duty: a squadron of us is deployed out here in Afghanistan while our rescue helicopters and crews back at home station have been tasked to support the Hurricane Katrina aftermath. An official count so far indicated 212 lives saved (updated 9/16). My family also informs me that my brother is heading down there to help in the rescue and recovery effort. I’m distraught to hear that crazy idiots start to shoot at the rescue helicopters. This kind of behavior absolutely baffles me. What has gone wrong with our society to warrant this?
Note: Washington Post or San Jose Mercury News may require free online subscription to view the links in this chapter.
Combat Rescue Saves #3 and #4
Katrina Rescue Saves #1 thru #212
DAY 6: Red Alert
Thu, 1 September 2005
The Air Force Reserve folks step down and in turn our unit steps up to take on command of this expeditionary combat rescue mission. With this transition comes a constant vigilance to maintain alert status should combat rescue missions come flowing down. It didn’t take long before things got absolutely hectic and crazy around here…
Fallen Soldier #1
Combat Rescue Saves #1 and #2
The Air Force Reserve folks step down and in turn our unit steps up to take on command of this expeditionary combat rescue mission. With this transition comes a constant vigilance to maintain alert status should combat rescue missions come flowing down. It didn’t take long before things got absolutely hectic and crazy around here…
Fallen Soldier #1
Combat Rescue Saves #1 and #2
Sunday, September 11, 2005
DAY 5: Welcome to Afghanistan
Wed, 31 August 2005
Shaka Zulu?
Zulu time is a military term that’s synonymous with Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) or Coordinated Universal Time (UTC). Basically, it’s a single time zone utilized to synchronize global operations. What’s interesting is that the base we’re at operates strictly on zulu time. And since Afghanistan operates on a ½ hour advance of the +4 hour time zone, we are therefore zulu +4.5 hours. Thus, at 04z it is 0830 local time – yes, this confuses everyone upon arrival, but you get somewhat used to it after a couple of days. I’ve worked with zulu in my younger days as a weather observer and forecaster – all of our observations and forecasts were based in zulu times. But to operate strictly in zulu leaves most of us totally discombobulated trying to perform random time calculations of local and home station times. So, I head to the BX and purchase a dual-time watch to straighten things out. The big analog hands are on local time, while the digital part is in zulu – just like my good ‘ol weather days. Now the brain is no longer confused and I’m happy with this new order!
Chalk 1 Arrives
Around midday, the Chalk 1 folks finally arrive. The Chalk 2 folks are rested – we all crashed hard, slept well, and reset our body’s circadian rhythm. The Chalk 1 folks slept a little at Manas then had to get up early to depart for Afghanistan. You could see it in their eyes the exhaustion of our long journey. What a difference a day makes.
Loggie overboard
We immediately start to work and interface with the folks that will soon be departing. Only one problem: there is no loggie. So, I’m a little baffled as to the situation. One of the maintenance troops is prepping and loading up the cargo. Only problem is that he doesn’t know how to develop a load plan. A load plan is a systematic plan that determines the optimal placement of cargo based upon its weight, dimensions and center of balance. Even worse, the loggie at home station sent a load plan from an older system no longer accepted by the Army. Okay, so now I’m witnessing a bad situation that starts getting worse by the minute…
Cool Stuff
As soon as we arrived on station, there was a fast-paced transition for our unit to assume the alert mission from the departing folks. As much as I wish I could share the operational details with you, OPSEC rules dictate that I cannot discuss this information. Thus, most of the discussions going forward will be centered around my daily routines and basic observations. Keep in mind this will just be a small slice of what’s going on around me.
Shaka Zulu?
Zulu time is a military term that’s synonymous with Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) or Coordinated Universal Time (UTC). Basically, it’s a single time zone utilized to synchronize global operations. What’s interesting is that the base we’re at operates strictly on zulu time. And since Afghanistan operates on a ½ hour advance of the +4 hour time zone, we are therefore zulu +4.5 hours. Thus, at 04z it is 0830 local time – yes, this confuses everyone upon arrival, but you get somewhat used to it after a couple of days. I’ve worked with zulu in my younger days as a weather observer and forecaster – all of our observations and forecasts were based in zulu times. But to operate strictly in zulu leaves most of us totally discombobulated trying to perform random time calculations of local and home station times. So, I head to the BX and purchase a dual-time watch to straighten things out. The big analog hands are on local time, while the digital part is in zulu – just like my good ‘ol weather days. Now the brain is no longer confused and I’m happy with this new order!
Chalk 1 Arrives
Around midday, the Chalk 1 folks finally arrive. The Chalk 2 folks are rested – we all crashed hard, slept well, and reset our body’s circadian rhythm. The Chalk 1 folks slept a little at Manas then had to get up early to depart for Afghanistan. You could see it in their eyes the exhaustion of our long journey. What a difference a day makes.
Loggie overboard
We immediately start to work and interface with the folks that will soon be departing. Only one problem: there is no loggie. So, I’m a little baffled as to the situation. One of the maintenance troops is prepping and loading up the cargo. Only problem is that he doesn’t know how to develop a load plan. A load plan is a systematic plan that determines the optimal placement of cargo based upon its weight, dimensions and center of balance. Even worse, the loggie at home station sent a load plan from an older system no longer accepted by the Army. Okay, so now I’m witnessing a bad situation that starts getting worse by the minute…
Cool Stuff
As soon as we arrived on station, there was a fast-paced transition for our unit to assume the alert mission from the departing folks. As much as I wish I could share the operational details with you, OPSEC rules dictate that I cannot discuss this information. Thus, most of the discussions going forward will be centered around my daily routines and basic observations. Keep in mind this will just be a small slice of what’s going on around me.
DAY 4: The Edge of the Earth
Tue, 30 August 2005
Oh Dark Hundred
This time I have my sweatshirt and I stay warm enough for the second leg. I’m not tired, so I have a good chat with our flight doc and start reading my magazines that I brought: “The Economist”, “Astronomy” and “Explore the Universe”. Okay, so my fellow super macho military members are reading the likes of “Soldier of Fortune” and “Maxim”, while I’m reading geeky stuff that pertains to global events and the solar system. But hey – to each his or her own, right? Finally, after a 7-hour journey of continent hopping, we land at Manas, Kyrgyzstan at 3am. I’m sure you’re asking, “Where in the heck is this place?” Manas is Bishkek’s (the capital) airport and Kyrgyzstan was once a former Soviet republic that borders China. Yes, I believe I’ve landed on the edge of earth…
Local time: +13 hours ahead of California time
Loggies
As Logistics Readiness Officers, we’re also affectionally known as “loggies”. Our job is to get people and cargo from one point to another. Sounds simple until you have to deal with the numerous exceptions to the rule, the many changes, the required documentation for the troops, and the tons of cargo to be prepped and shipped. So, before we even reach Afghanistan I’ve already started working to get us airlift from Manas into our final destination. Our folks check into lodging and I drop my bags but head right out to the Passenger (Pax) Terminal to find the outbound schedule. Cool, there’s a flight scheduled within 6 hours of our arrival. A few minutes later, we check back only to find that we’ve been bumped because the airman who check us in didn’t realize another group had a higher priority. Okay, another mission comes up…then a few minutes later, it disappears. So, this is going to be a tougher challenge than I thought. Finally, we get some dedicated airlift, but there’s only room for two-thirds of our group. I discuss the options with my troop commander and we agree to split the group in two; he would go ahead with the main body, while I would stay back and get the remaining group airlift later in the day.
Manas
So the first group (Chalk 1) departs and the rest of us stay back and relax. None of us had much sleep since leaving England, and it was not about to change since we’re now in broad daylight at Manas. Manas is an interesting spot – it’s officially known as the “Gateway to OEF” as it is the stepping off point for the troops as they head to various undisclosed locations in Afghanistan and neighboring countries.
Dosey doe, and Away we don’t go
While my crew (Chalk 2) is waiting, I check the Recreation Tent out and purchase a beer. It’s our last chance for alcohol, so I order some Russian looking product that’s only $2. Interesting flavor, and as I sip on it, the bus returns – only the Chalk 1 folks are on it! We laugh as they return and then await a couple of more hours. This time, both chalks board buses and head back out to the tarmac. We sit…then sit…then sit. Okay, Chalk 1’s plane is still having problems, and now ours is down for maintenance as well – ugh. So, back to the Pax Terminal and to wait some more. Finally, a few hours later I’m about to make a command decision. My folks have been waiting for 11 hours and most of us have been up for over 24 hours with little or no sleep. At the 12 hour mark, I was calling it quits for the day. But, by some strange luck Chalk 2 gets called up at the 11:40 mark. So, we say bye to Chalk 1, then head out. Only this time we take off! So, now Chalk 1 is stuck in Manas and will have to await another day before getting out.
Afghanistan, here we come
In the C-130, it’s cramped. I’m fortunate enough to sit near a porthole and peer out over the landscape as we leave Manas and fly over Kyrgyzstan, Tajikstan and finally Afghanistan. Snow-covered high mountains dominate the early terrain, giving way to lower mountains and a dark-brown landscape. We finally land at our destination around 5:30pm. It’s hot as hell and the sky is filled with dust and haze…welcome to Afghanistan! We in-process then attend some newcomer meetings. Finally, after staying up for 36 hours straight, I crash…it’s a hard crash and zzzzzzz’s galore.
Local time: +11.5 hours ahead of California time
Oh Dark Hundred
This time I have my sweatshirt and I stay warm enough for the second leg. I’m not tired, so I have a good chat with our flight doc and start reading my magazines that I brought: “The Economist”, “Astronomy” and “Explore the Universe”. Okay, so my fellow super macho military members are reading the likes of “Soldier of Fortune” and “Maxim”, while I’m reading geeky stuff that pertains to global events and the solar system. But hey – to each his or her own, right? Finally, after a 7-hour journey of continent hopping, we land at Manas, Kyrgyzstan at 3am. I’m sure you’re asking, “Where in the heck is this place?” Manas is Bishkek’s (the capital) airport and Kyrgyzstan was once a former Soviet republic that borders China. Yes, I believe I’ve landed on the edge of earth…
Local time: +13 hours ahead of California time
Loggies
As Logistics Readiness Officers, we’re also affectionally known as “loggies”. Our job is to get people and cargo from one point to another. Sounds simple until you have to deal with the numerous exceptions to the rule, the many changes, the required documentation for the troops, and the tons of cargo to be prepped and shipped. So, before we even reach Afghanistan I’ve already started working to get us airlift from Manas into our final destination. Our folks check into lodging and I drop my bags but head right out to the Passenger (Pax) Terminal to find the outbound schedule. Cool, there’s a flight scheduled within 6 hours of our arrival. A few minutes later, we check back only to find that we’ve been bumped because the airman who check us in didn’t realize another group had a higher priority. Okay, another mission comes up…then a few minutes later, it disappears. So, this is going to be a tougher challenge than I thought. Finally, we get some dedicated airlift, but there’s only room for two-thirds of our group. I discuss the options with my troop commander and we agree to split the group in two; he would go ahead with the main body, while I would stay back and get the remaining group airlift later in the day.
Manas
So the first group (Chalk 1) departs and the rest of us stay back and relax. None of us had much sleep since leaving England, and it was not about to change since we’re now in broad daylight at Manas. Manas is an interesting spot – it’s officially known as the “Gateway to OEF” as it is the stepping off point for the troops as they head to various undisclosed locations in Afghanistan and neighboring countries.
Dosey doe, and Away we don’t go
While my crew (Chalk 2) is waiting, I check the Recreation Tent out and purchase a beer. It’s our last chance for alcohol, so I order some Russian looking product that’s only $2. Interesting flavor, and as I sip on it, the bus returns – only the Chalk 1 folks are on it! We laugh as they return and then await a couple of more hours. This time, both chalks board buses and head back out to the tarmac. We sit…then sit…then sit. Okay, Chalk 1’s plane is still having problems, and now ours is down for maintenance as well – ugh. So, back to the Pax Terminal and to wait some more. Finally, a few hours later I’m about to make a command decision. My folks have been waiting for 11 hours and most of us have been up for over 24 hours with little or no sleep. At the 12 hour mark, I was calling it quits for the day. But, by some strange luck Chalk 2 gets called up at the 11:40 mark. So, we say bye to Chalk 1, then head out. Only this time we take off! So, now Chalk 1 is stuck in Manas and will have to await another day before getting out.
Afghanistan, here we come
In the C-130, it’s cramped. I’m fortunate enough to sit near a porthole and peer out over the landscape as we leave Manas and fly over Kyrgyzstan, Tajikstan and finally Afghanistan. Snow-covered high mountains dominate the early terrain, giving way to lower mountains and a dark-brown landscape. We finally land at our destination around 5:30pm. It’s hot as hell and the sky is filled with dust and haze…welcome to Afghanistan! We in-process then attend some newcomer meetings. Finally, after staying up for 36 hours straight, I crash…it’s a hard crash and zzzzzzz’s galore.
Local time: +11.5 hours ahead of California time
DAY 3: RAF Mildenhall
Mon, 29 August 2005
Our early departure is now delayed…and delayed…and delayed for a total of 6 hours. So, we’re allowed to walk the base and find the dining hall for some grub. The base is one of only two main U.S. bases left in England – the other one is RAF Lakenheath which is just about 15 miles away. RAF Mildenhall has a lot of historical markers and is very well kept. But alas, we must proceed on our journey and bid farewell to this little bit of heaven we so very much enjoyed.
Our early departure is now delayed…and delayed…and delayed for a total of 6 hours. So, we’re allowed to walk the base and find the dining hall for some grub. The base is one of only two main U.S. bases left in England – the other one is RAF Lakenheath which is just about 15 miles away. RAF Mildenhall has a lot of historical markers and is very well kept. But alas, we must proceed on our journey and bid farewell to this little bit of heaven we so very much enjoyed.
DAY 2: Merry 'ol England
Sun, 28 August 2005
We’re bused to a local English inn called the “Bird in Hand” just outside the base. The long refueling layover has provided us with a unique opportunity – to enjoy the warm afternoon sun while drinking beer and getting some well-deserved down time. This is all so surreal, but I definitely savor the moment and order a pitcher of Guinness Stout and some fish-n-chips. After working my tail off for so many months, it was wonderful to pass the hours away drinking and having a jolly good time with my fellow group members. We then head for bed to prep for an early departure the next morning.
Local time: +7 hours ahead of California time
We’re bused to a local English inn called the “Bird in Hand” just outside the base. The long refueling layover has provided us with a unique opportunity – to enjoy the warm afternoon sun while drinking beer and getting some well-deserved down time. This is all so surreal, but I definitely savor the moment and order a pitcher of Guinness Stout and some fish-n-chips. After working my tail off for so many months, it was wonderful to pass the hours away drinking and having a jolly good time with my fellow group members. We then head for bed to prep for an early departure the next morning.
Local time: +7 hours ahead of California time
DAY 1: Departure
Sat, 27 August 2005
The Mad Scramble and Dash
I got up early and started laundry to prep one last load for my pending deployment. Although our initial deployment date of August 25th had already passed, a delay in airlift indicated that we would not depart for another week. So, as an Assistant Installation Deployment Officer, I was getting ready to head for work and deploy out the other squadron within our unit to an undisclosed location in Africa later that afternoon. Then the phone rings. It’s our command chief and she informs me that they are currently conducting the roll call for my deployment. Wait – I inquire that this roll call must be for the other squadron, right? Wrong! I somehow got left off the notification list from the previous night and thus this is the first time I’m hearing about our new departure time. Panic, panic, panic. Okay, I pause for a moment to think what I need to accomplish -- finish the laundry, pack my bags, perform a few necessary errands, and finally turn in my laptop to my civilian employer. I was planning to leisurely perform these chores over the weekend, but now I had just two hours to complete everything and leave – ugh. After frantically getting everything done that needed to get done, I arrive on station just as the folks were loading their baggage. Whew, just in the nick of time and not a minute to spare. We’re then given an hour for lunch, and then reassemble to be bused to another location for airlift.
KSUU
Some of the folks say goodbye and hug and kiss their families before boarding the bus and departing for our destination at Travis AFB, a 90-minute bus ride in the San Francisco Bay Area. The trip is uneventful, but as I pass Concord I try to call a few friends in the Renegades – a senior drum & bugles corps that I march with. Since I was selected for the deployment, we all knew that my last show with them was at the end of July in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Wonderful memories I have with this great bunch of people – let’s see, doing run-throughs on a football field in a soaking rainstorm, attack of those pesky black beetles, performing our show at Wake Forest’s Groves Stadium, and then partying all night at the local brew pub (complete with random transvestite). Okay, I’ve digressed a bit. The Renegades have since filled my hole and were gearing up for the DCA World Championships over the upcoming Labor Weekend. Sadly, everyone I call is not answering – they are all out on the field probably going through another run-through on a football field in the hot sun. Alas, we proceed on and arrive at our destination of Travis AFB (KSUU).
Hurry up and Wait
For those folks with a military background, you know exactly what I’m talking about. We were hell-bent on arriving early at Travis AFB, only to wait…and wait…and wait. Finally, in the early evening we head out to the plane – a KC-10 aircraft (military version of a DC-10 with the third engine in the tail fin). The cargo gets lifted in with a K-loader, which is a military flatbed that lifts the cargo to the plane’s cargo bay and then slides the cargo in on rollers. This is an awesome sight to behold and one that I sear into my mind while I chat with my family one last time as they celebrate my nephew’s 5th birthday.
The Arctic Chill
If you’ve traveled on a military aircraft, then you’ll know that the inside of the aircraft is not insulated – unlike a commercial aircraft’s plush interior. There’s not much of a difference at takeoff, but once you’re cruising at 40,000 feet the outside skin starts to chill the cabin air. And boy, does it get cold. In my haste, I leave my sweatshirt in the carry-on that has since been palletized and is unreachable during flight. So, I grab a blanket and try to get some zzz’s to pass the time. The air then really cools, and I start to shiver. As more time passes on, I start to shake so badly that I’m now almost into Stage 1, Hyperthermia. When the cold finally becomes utterly unbearable, the lights come back on just in time and we start the approach to land. I somehow hold on these last few minutes, and as we deplane onto the tarmac I bask in the warm mid-afternoon sun upon our arrival to RAF Mildenhall, UK.
The Mad Scramble and Dash
I got up early and started laundry to prep one last load for my pending deployment. Although our initial deployment date of August 25th had already passed, a delay in airlift indicated that we would not depart for another week. So, as an Assistant Installation Deployment Officer, I was getting ready to head for work and deploy out the other squadron within our unit to an undisclosed location in Africa later that afternoon. Then the phone rings. It’s our command chief and she informs me that they are currently conducting the roll call for my deployment. Wait – I inquire that this roll call must be for the other squadron, right? Wrong! I somehow got left off the notification list from the previous night and thus this is the first time I’m hearing about our new departure time. Panic, panic, panic
KSUU
Some of the folks say goodbye and hug and kiss their families before boarding the bus and departing for our destination at Travis AFB, a 90-minute bus ride in the San Francisco Bay Area. The trip is uneventful, but as I pass Concord I try to call a few friends in the Renegades – a senior drum & bugles corps that I march with. Since I was selected for the deployment, we all knew that my last show with them was at the end of July in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Wonderful memories I have with this great bunch of people – let’s see, doing run-throughs on a football field in a soaking rainstorm, attack of those pesky black beetles, performing our show at Wake Forest’s Groves Stadium, and then partying all night at the local brew pub (complete with random transvestite). Okay, I’ve digressed a bit. The Renegades have since filled my hole and were gearing up for the DCA World Championships over the upcoming Labor Weekend. Sadly, everyone I call is not answering – they are all out on the field probably going through another run-through on a football field in the hot sun. Alas, we proceed on and arrive at our destination of Travis AFB (KSUU).
Hurry up and Wait
For those folks with a military background, you know exactly what I’m talking about. We were hell-bent on arriving early at Travis AFB, only to wait…and wait…and wait. Finally, in the early evening we head out to the plane – a KC-10 aircraft (military version of a DC-10 with the third engine in the tail fin). The cargo gets lifted in with a K-loader, which is a military flatbed that lifts the cargo to the plane’s cargo bay and then slides the cargo in on rollers. This is an awesome sight to behold and one that I sear into my mind while I chat with my family one last time as they celebrate my nephew’s 5th birthday.
The Arctic Chill
If you’ve traveled on a military aircraft, then you’ll know that the inside of the aircraft is not insulated – unlike a commercial aircraft’s plush interior. There’s not much of a difference at takeoff, but once you’re cruising at 40,000 feet the outside skin starts to chill the cabin air. And boy, does it get cold. In my haste, I leave my sweatshirt in the carry-on that has since been palletized and is unreachable during flight. So, I grab a blanket and try to get some zzz’s to pass the time. The air then really cools, and I start to shiver. As more time passes on, I start to shake so badly that I’m now almost into Stage 1, Hyperthermia. When the cold finally becomes utterly unbearable, the lights come back on just in time and we start the approach to land. I somehow hold on these last few minutes, and as we deplane onto the tarmac I bask in the warm mid-afternoon sun upon our arrival to RAF Mildenhall, UK.
DAY 0: Burning the candle
When I look back over the last few months, it’s just been one big blur. As a traditional guardsman, I’ve been burning the candle at both ends doing double duty as both a Product Management contractor in my civilian job with Silicon Graphics, Inc (SGI) and as a Logistics Readiness Officer (LRO) at my military job. So why am I doing both, you ask? First, I’ve always been a traditional guardsman – aka “weekend warrior” – during my reserve military career and was either pursuing higher education or developing my civilian career within Silicon Valley’s high tech industry. However, 9/11 completely changed the paradigm of a terrorist attack for all Americans. For those of us who were serving in the U.S. military, an additional burden was place to not only defend this country, but to also go to war against the terrorists in their homeland.
Thus, when 9/11 occurred almost 4 years ago, I began a pattern of engaging in my civilian career (graduate business school and a follow-on job with SGI), while staying active with my military unit in their numerous missions to support the Global War on Terrorism. Finally, the need for an LRO appeared and thus I was tapped to support this vital mission in Afghanistan.
Thus, when 9/11 occurred almost 4 years ago, I began a pattern of engaging in my civilian career (graduate business school and a follow-on job with SGI), while staying active with my military unit in their numerous missions to support the Global War on Terrorism. Finally, the need for an LRO appeared and thus I was tapped to support this vital mission in Afghanistan.
INTRODUCTION
Hi and welcome to my blog! This journal will reflect my journey in support of Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF) – a part of the Global War on Terrorism (GWOT) – that was initiated in response to the 9/11 tragedy almost 4 years ago. I’m an Air National Guardsman and was federally activated to serve a short tour in the Air Force in support of my unit’s combat rescue mission.
I’m also a Desert Storm veteran, but this deployment is my first since the early 90’s – and things were very different then. In those days, the local Kuwaitis approached us to genuinely greet and shake our hands for liberating their country. Now we’re not sure if the local Iraqis and Afghanis are friendly or are suicide bombers waiting to martyr themselves by taking as many lives along with theirs. The innocence and euphoria of defeating Saddam Hussein in 1991 has given away to a harsh reality in 2005 of an embedded and lethal insurgency in Iraq. In Afghanistan, things are going a little bit better for the Coalition and American forces, but this war is now overlooked in the minds of Americans as our focus continues to watch the death toll pile up in Iraq.
Whatever your political background lies, I hope you take away from this blog a better understanding of what our American troops are doing here in Afghanistan. I consider myself an independent thinker, but I’m also very dedicated to this specific mission because of its purpose – to catch Osama bin Laden and destroy the al-Qaida network of terrorists for what they did to us. I’m also bounded by Operational Security (OPSEC) requirements and thus will need to sanitize details to ensure that I do not compromise information that will help the enemy.
Many of my family and friends back home are all concerned for my safety, but have also wished me well in this dangerous mission. My intent focus is to perform my part of this crucial mission and to come home safely and share stories and pictures with loved ones upon my return. Thank you for taking some of your time to read my story.
>> Al
I’m also a Desert Storm veteran, but this deployment is my first since the early 90’s – and things were very different then. In those days, the local Kuwaitis approached us to genuinely greet and shake our hands for liberating their country. Now we’re not sure if the local Iraqis and Afghanis are friendly or are suicide bombers waiting to martyr themselves by taking as many lives along with theirs. The innocence and euphoria of defeating Saddam Hussein in 1991 has given away to a harsh reality in 2005 of an embedded and lethal insurgency in Iraq. In Afghanistan, things are going a little bit better for the Coalition and American forces, but this war is now overlooked in the minds of Americans as our focus continues to watch the death toll pile up in Iraq.
Whatever your political background lies, I hope you take away from this blog a better understanding of what our American troops are doing here in Afghanistan. I consider myself an independent thinker, but I’m also very dedicated to this specific mission because of its purpose – to catch Osama bin Laden and destroy the al-Qaida network of terrorists for what they did to us. I’m also bounded by Operational Security (OPSEC) requirements and thus will need to sanitize details to ensure that I do not compromise information that will help the enemy.
Many of my family and friends back home are all concerned for my safety, but have also wished me well in this dangerous mission. My intent focus is to perform my part of this crucial mission and to come home safely and share stories and pictures with loved ones upon my return. Thank you for taking some of your time to read my story.
>> Al
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