"If I see Taliban, I will kill him with my own hands." I'm sitting over a meal of rice, beef, chickpeas and a flatbread that resembles Naan with one of my interpreters who is putting the chickpeas, rice and meat together with the bread and eating it with his fingers. I try to emulate. We're both sitting cross-legged on the ground next to the supply truck. "Why do you say that?" He looks at me and gives me a serious look and says, "Taliban blew up my vehicle, only the platoon commander and me survived . Everyone else died. So when I see Taliban, I will kill them." I asked if he was injured. He said yes, and showed me a scar on the top of his head and said that he was in surgery for several months. I asked him how old he was, he told me 20 years old. He looked at me again with that same seriousness and said, "I will kill Taliban for what they did." I told him I liked his spirit. He gave me the last of his flatbread.
The sun rises lazily over Kabul. It's obscured by the hazy pollution that sits over many third world metropolises. It doesn't matter. Our vehicles are rolling along the outskirts of Kabul. The streets are crowded with vendors and vehicles. No one thinks twice about cutting their vehicle into our convoy. It's unsettling, but we drive on. We drive into the Afghan National Army (ANA) compound and we make our way out to the training area where our Afghan counterparts and the Americans are setting up for the day. Unfortunately I don't have my camera (for reasons I'll explain later), but picture a valley surrounded by high mountains all around with snow capping the tops of them. It's picturesque.
The ANA commander shakes my hand, "Good morning!" This is about the extent of his English. He beams with pride. For an Afghan, he is tall and slightly regal looking. They told us that many of the senior ANA commanders are old Mujaheddin fighters from when the Soviets were here in the 80s. I'm not sure if this guy is or not, but he grips my hand with the confidence one expects of a senior officer. He speaks through my interpreter, "I am happy to have you as my mentor!" I respond, "I am pleased to be working with such a fine unit." We exchange further pleasantries and he went about commanding his unit.
My role is not to be the Afghan commander or make decisions for him. I'm his mentor and adviser. I don't offer solutions, I offer suggestions. At the moment, I'm working with another American unit who is doing their training, so my role right now is mostly observation until the ANA unit becomes operational. When it becomes operational, we assume responsibility and start working with them.
The ANA is doing heavy weapons training on this day. We watch as Romanian soldiers unload Rocket Propelled Grenade launchers and the rockets for the launchers. The Afghans are huddled around this. They like weapons that make a great big explosion. We do too. The Romanians speak English and teach the Afghans how to load and carry the launcher and we wonder whether we might be given the opportunity to fire one of these rockets. We also watch as other American soldiers set up 50 caliber machine guns in order to familiarize the ANA with their use and how to load, unload and fire them. WHOOOOOSH BOOM! I turn and one of the Romanians has fired an RPG at the rusted hull of a tank 300 meters away. One of the things about Afghanistan is that relics of previous wars are never in short supply. Rusted out tanks and armored vehicles dot the landscape as do bombed out houses. We always have something to shoot at. The Afghans cheers and start shouting. Some of their own line up to fire RPGs. They're given 30 rounds. They hit the tank 4 times. This is considered a success. They cheer whenever a round impacts the tank and we cheer right alongside of them. Meanwhile, the Afghans are struggling with the .50 cals. They are cautious of the weapon and the first couple of soldiers who try to use it fire single shots. Eventually, they start getting into it and started firing sustained bursts. Nothing quite like RPGs and .50 cals going off at the same time.
One of the more interesting aspects of work out here is working with our interpreters. We call them "Terps" for short. They're young men for the most part and speak enough passable English to interpret our conversations with the ANA. They think they're bad, but we try to straight them out. Interpreters here are given the opportunity to get a Visa to move to the United States after 2 years of interpreter work. It's dangerous work and we have heard that the Taliban is paying $20,000 for a dead interpreter. They're smart and funny and think it's cool to try and use American lingo. We frequently have to remind them to stop cussing so much. They respond that they are only copying how the Americans talk. We have nothing to say to this.
Training is wrapping up. Afghans don't like to train after 3 pm. We return to our base. Two days later, we head out again to the training where the ANA is drawing equipment. We don't stay too long. We've received another mission to make a humanitarian assistance (HA) drop at a local school. One of the soldiers has received a a poster from the Library of Congress in DC depicting "woman in science." The only problem is that we don't know where the school is, so we improvise. We pull off the side of the road and ask one of the locals for directions to the nearest school. He points us in the right direction. Several U-turns later, we are winding down a bumpy, dusty road.
Afghans love us or hate us. Mostly, these emotions are often seen within short spans of time. Afghan children run up to our vehicles. We dismount our vehicles and I start saying "Salaam Aleikum" to the kids. They surround me saying, "Mister, mister! Chocolate! Candy! Pepsi! Pen! Notebook!" I smile and feign my best "ignorant westerner" smile and walk toward the school.
We are allowed permission to enter the school. We walk in and speak to the administrator. He's excited about the posters. I realize the posters are in English, but I smile away anyways. He offers us chai. We decline as hospitably as we can. We have to go. Before we go, he has a list of things he needs. I write them down. We bid goodbye to the school administrator and walk back to our vehicles. A mob of children surround me and start reaching into my pockets to take my stuff. I'm dumbfounded by this. I tell them, "No! No! No!" They don't listen. As I'm climbing into my vehicle, they're still clawing at my pockets and trying to pull me back down into the crowd. Fortunately, I'm able to climb up into my vehicle and close the door. I check all my stuff to make sure I have everything. Wallet, cell phone, ID, wait, where's my camera. I check all my pockets. It's not there. I knew I had it before, but I don't have it now. The kids stole my camera. All the pictures I've taken of Afghanistan are now in the hands of thieving children. I am not pleased.
Afghanistan is a beautiful country. The mountain ranges are immense. I would have pictures of this, were it not for children and their small thieving hands. Work here is tiring but I think it will pay huge dividends, not only for us but for the country of Afghanistan as a whole. Thank you again for the encouragements you've sent. Keep in touch.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
The rocky road to Kabul
"Did that Afghan just flick me off?" We had just left Kabul International Airport and someone noticed a pair of Afghan men in an alleyway giving an upturned hand gesture toward our convoy. It seemed angry, but having been in the country for all of about 2 hours, we weren't entirely sure. Welcome to Afghanistan....
Much as we might have wanted to stay in Louisiana (be assured we didn't), our path led elsewhere. We arrived at the airport around midnight and began our journey halfway around the world. We were packed into our plane tight as could be and began journeying first to Maine, then Ireland and then Kyrgyzstan. Flying into Kyrgyzstan, the only thing I could conclude was that it was a sparsely populated country.We landed at Manas Air Force base and waited for transportation to Afghanistan. We didn't know how long we were going to be there. They told us it could be a week or 24 hours. We tried to enjoy our stay as much as we could. They had amenities that made us feel like Kyrgyzstan was nothing more than a vacation. It wasn't. The hesco barriers and armed guards at the gate were a constant reminder.Finally we got word that we were about to be locked down in preparation for our flight into Afghanistan. We loaded all of our gear and equipment and sat in a large building and waited...
Finally we got word to grab our carry on items and make our way to the bus. We boarded the bus and drove out to the runway and began boarding.
Our flight took off and we rapidly ascended. I took this opportunity to read, but someone told me that we were able to go up to the cockpit. I jumped at the chance. When I made it up to the cockpit, the view was breathtaking.
The co-pilot even took a picture for me through his heads-up display.
One of the crew chiefs told me that we were flying over the Hindu Kush mountains. I was impressed. As I descended from he cockpit, I noticed that the crew had strung an American flag and I know it's corny, but I felt moved by it.
We were told to take our seats as we flew into Afghan airspace. What seemed like a peaceful ride made a somewhat turbulent turn as the plane descended into Kabul. When one thinks of a descent, it's usually gradual as to not cause too much discomfort. I cannot say the same for this ride. It was a rapid descent and felt more like a roller coaster than anything else. We landed with a thud and many of the soldiers who had been sleeping were jarred awake.
We exited the aircraft and Kabul International Airport lay before us. Ringed by hilltops to our immediate front and the Hindu Kush mountains farther away, it was an impressive site.
We waited around Kabul airport for transportation to Camp Phoenix. When we finally got it, we got our first look at what Afghanistan looks like. I don't have any pictures of that yet. All I can say is that the country is... different. We weren't in the countryside for long, but my observation is that the country is impoverished and crowded. People milled about our convoy as if no one noticed that armed Americans were driving through the street. Shops were open all around us. When I say shops, picture boxed sheet metal with a signs written in Dari, Pashto and English. Goods were sold at every corner. Our drive was short, but something sparked one of the soldiers. A soldier pointed at something outside of the window and shouted, "Did that Afghan just flick me off?" We all laughed, but I couldn't help but feel somewhat unsettled. Was it anger or something that our non-adept American minds couldn't perceive? I don't know. As we become accustomed to Afghanistan, perhaps it will all be made clear, but perhaps not.
I have to run for now, but I'll try and write something about Camp Phoenix at a later point. Cheers.
Much as we might have wanted to stay in Louisiana (be assured we didn't), our path led elsewhere. We arrived at the airport around midnight and began our journey halfway around the world. We were packed into our plane tight as could be and began journeying first to Maine, then Ireland and then Kyrgyzstan. Flying into Kyrgyzstan, the only thing I could conclude was that it was a sparsely populated country.We landed at Manas Air Force base and waited for transportation to Afghanistan. We didn't know how long we were going to be there. They told us it could be a week or 24 hours. We tried to enjoy our stay as much as we could. They had amenities that made us feel like Kyrgyzstan was nothing more than a vacation. It wasn't. The hesco barriers and armed guards at the gate were a constant reminder.Finally we got word that we were about to be locked down in preparation for our flight into Afghanistan. We loaded all of our gear and equipment and sat in a large building and waited...
Finally we got word to grab our carry on items and make our way to the bus. We boarded the bus and drove out to the runway and began boarding.
Our flight took off and we rapidly ascended. I took this opportunity to read, but someone told me that we were able to go up to the cockpit. I jumped at the chance. When I made it up to the cockpit, the view was breathtaking.
The co-pilot even took a picture for me through his heads-up display.
One of the crew chiefs told me that we were flying over the Hindu Kush mountains. I was impressed. As I descended from he cockpit, I noticed that the crew had strung an American flag and I know it's corny, but I felt moved by it.
We were told to take our seats as we flew into Afghan airspace. What seemed like a peaceful ride made a somewhat turbulent turn as the plane descended into Kabul. When one thinks of a descent, it's usually gradual as to not cause too much discomfort. I cannot say the same for this ride. It was a rapid descent and felt more like a roller coaster than anything else. We landed with a thud and many of the soldiers who had been sleeping were jarred awake.
We exited the aircraft and Kabul International Airport lay before us. Ringed by hilltops to our immediate front and the Hindu Kush mountains farther away, it was an impressive site.
We waited around Kabul airport for transportation to Camp Phoenix. When we finally got it, we got our first look at what Afghanistan looks like. I don't have any pictures of that yet. All I can say is that the country is... different. We weren't in the countryside for long, but my observation is that the country is impoverished and crowded. People milled about our convoy as if no one noticed that armed Americans were driving through the street. Shops were open all around us. When I say shops, picture boxed sheet metal with a signs written in Dari, Pashto and English. Goods were sold at every corner. Our drive was short, but something sparked one of the soldiers. A soldier pointed at something outside of the window and shouted, "Did that Afghan just flick me off?" We all laughed, but I couldn't help but feel somewhat unsettled. Was it anger or something that our non-adept American minds couldn't perceive? I don't know. As we become accustomed to Afghanistan, perhaps it will all be made clear, but perhaps not.
I have to run for now, but I'll try and write something about Camp Phoenix at a later point. Cheers.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
In between a rock and a hard place, there's usually an IED
It's 4 in the morning and my soldiers have already been up for 12 hours. We're stopped along a road. We are unable to move. Up ahead, our lead element has spotted a possible IED (Improvised Explosive Device). We can't be too sure since it's dark, but we're fairly certain. We are completely exhausted, but we wait for EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) to come and clear the IED. We wait for several hours. The sun comes up and they're still not here. We're going on 18 hours of no rest. Finally, EOD shows up, clears the IED and we make our way back to our base only to receive yet another mission which will last us all the way until midnight.
That was a recent scenario down here at JRTC. We just finished our rotation here. Our exhaustion level is high but we're happy with what we've done and look forward to what's next. A lot of people ask when we're heading overseas and I have to unfortunately beg off the question. We do know the date, but we're not supposed to be talking about. Suffice to say when we're overseas, I will let you all know via the blog and facebook.
Thanks to everyone who's called, wrote and kept in touch. I've appreciated all of them. Things are going to start getting interesting soon, so I really appreciate all the nice notes, e mails and calls. Take care and I will talk to you all hopefully soon.
That was a recent scenario down here at JRTC. We just finished our rotation here. Our exhaustion level is high but we're happy with what we've done and look forward to what's next. A lot of people ask when we're heading overseas and I have to unfortunately beg off the question. We do know the date, but we're not supposed to be talking about. Suffice to say when we're overseas, I will let you all know via the blog and facebook.
Thanks to everyone who's called, wrote and kept in touch. I've appreciated all of them. Things are going to start getting interesting soon, so I really appreciate all the nice notes, e mails and calls. Take care and I will talk to you all hopefully soon.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Moving
I'm being moved from being the Assistant S1 to a platoon leader position and also moving to a different battalion. More to follow on this.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Indiana is flat, Afghanistan is mountainous
It's been 11 days since I've hit the ground here at Camp Atterbury. Temperatures here have thankfully risen past the freezing point which makes for more bearable living conditions but the melting snows do create different problems.
I've settled somewhat into a routine here at Camp Atterbury. Most days begin between 4 and 6 in the morning. We wake up, do hygiene and eat. Most days after that, we do classes from everything ranging from hot/cold weather injuries to CIED (Counter Improvised Explosive Device) to briefs about the culture and history of Afghanistan. Often, this is done through PowerPoint and it's a challenge attempting to stay awake for 8-10 power point presentations.
After classes, we'll generally split off into our respective sections and shops. My "shop" is the S1 shop which has the primary task of conducting the administration and personnel issues at the squadron/battalion level. As noted before, I have been assigned as the Assistant S1. The best way to look at this from a civilian side would be that I'm an assistant manager. We have several soldiers who work in the shop. As an infantry officer without any time in a staff position, I am often lost as to what to do, but I'm trying to learn - ever so slowly. I generally work there until around 8 pm and then we do PT. We're doing a program called "Crossfit" which is an excellent full-body workout which incorporate endurance and muscular strength activities. As one of the other officers said, "You may work behind a desk, but I'll have physically fit officers sitting behind desks." If you're interested, you can find the link here http://www.crossfit.com/.
There's not a lot of free time or personal time. Most days last from early in the morning until late at night. I'm learning that even when most soldiers may be resting, relaxing and recovering from the day, officers and non-commissioned officers (Sergeants) are busy through those times. I'll often collapse at the end of the day into my bunk and sleep until the next morning when it's all done again. We work 7 days a week, most days are around 17-18 hours. It's exhausting at times and exhilarating at others. I suppose my natural laziness is being challenged working here.
All in all, I'm having a decent time out here. Privacy is nil, but I'm OK with that. Hope all is well with everyone. Thanks for those who have written. God bless. J
I've settled somewhat into a routine here at Camp Atterbury. Most days begin between 4 and 6 in the morning. We wake up, do hygiene and eat. Most days after that, we do classes from everything ranging from hot/cold weather injuries to CIED (Counter Improvised Explosive Device) to briefs about the culture and history of Afghanistan. Often, this is done through PowerPoint and it's a challenge attempting to stay awake for 8-10 power point presentations.
After classes, we'll generally split off into our respective sections and shops. My "shop" is the S1 shop which has the primary task of conducting the administration and personnel issues at the squadron/battalion level. As noted before, I have been assigned as the Assistant S1. The best way to look at this from a civilian side would be that I'm an assistant manager. We have several soldiers who work in the shop. As an infantry officer without any time in a staff position, I am often lost as to what to do, but I'm trying to learn - ever so slowly. I generally work there until around 8 pm and then we do PT. We're doing a program called "Crossfit" which is an excellent full-body workout which incorporate endurance and muscular strength activities. As one of the other officers said, "You may work behind a desk, but I'll have physically fit officers sitting behind desks." If you're interested, you can find the link here http://www.crossfit.com/.
There's not a lot of free time or personal time. Most days last from early in the morning until late at night. I'm learning that even when most soldiers may be resting, relaxing and recovering from the day, officers and non-commissioned officers (Sergeants) are busy through those times. I'll often collapse at the end of the day into my bunk and sleep until the next morning when it's all done again. We work 7 days a week, most days are around 17-18 hours. It's exhausting at times and exhilarating at others. I suppose my natural laziness is being challenged working here.
All in all, I'm having a decent time out here. Privacy is nil, but I'm OK with that. Hope all is well with everyone. Thanks for those who have written. God bless. J
Friday, January 8, 2010
Camp Atterbury, you are so very cold.
It's another cold day here at Camp Atterbury. Then again, I've only been here 2 days, but it's still cold. The temperature this morning was around 7 degrees. I used to complain about sub-40 degree temperatures, but I can't do that in good conscience anymore. What to say about post? It's non-descript in appearance, but now it's holding some number of soldiers here from all over the country. New soldiers are coming in every day. We arrived on 7 January 2010. After being shuttled to Camp Atterbury, we disembarked our vehicles and began unpacking our gear. The next morning, chaos settled in. Orders were changed overnight and I was moved from 1-101 FA to 1-172 CAV. We arrived at our unit and were then told that there were no platoon leader or executive officer positions available as they were all filled. There were 3 Lieutenants who arrived at the same time and we were told that there were 3 positions in the battalion to be filled and that they were 2 battle captain positions (working with the S-3 or the operations shop) or to work as the assistant S1 (Personnel/administration). I was assigned to be the Assistant S1. They told me that there might be a possibility for a platoon leader position to open up, but there's no guarantee. I guess we'll have to see. So far, most everything is inprocessing and working on getting all gear and equipment and being sped up on my job which at the moment seems... fluid.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Going, going... gone
Everything is packed or given away. Best of luck to you all back in Maryland. More on the flip-side. Hoosier state, here I come.
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