Blogging Issues

For some reason, today, I am capable of logging onto the blog. It has proven to be a time-consuming and frustrating experience. As you can probably tell by the date of my last post, it has been a while. The newest FOB (Forward Operating Base - a misnomer because I am actually just East of Kabul) that I am in has much different protocols for use of the Internet. It is also a big place and there are many users. I may only be on right now because most of the residents are at dinner.

Anyway, I am short and on a new mission. My mission changed in early February right after I got back from leave. I am now on a team that is mentoring all of the police districts in the province of Kabul. A daunting task but one that has proven to be pretty important. The other good thing about it is that it puts me on the road all of the time during the week and that makes the days go by pretty fast. Running around Kabul and getting stuck in traffic all day long is not as enjoyable as I would like it but some of the out-lying districts are in great locations.

This may be my last post. I have about a month left in country and, quite frankly, trying to get on the net is something that is truly testing my patience. You never can tell though, keep your eye on the site. I may get energetic.

Sarmajor

Mid-Tour Leave and a Tragic Loss

Right after my last posting I had the best assignment of my time here. I got to go home.

We had a short award ceremony on New Year's Eve, dampened by the absence of a few of our troops still being snowed in up in the mountain passes. My commander and our USAF Operations Officer stayed in Jalalabad until the last Soldier was brought out of his forward position. He had been there for nearly two months without a shower (thank God for Handiwipes) or any real amenities that most of us here see on a frequent basis. While he was up there he was promoted from Staff Sergeant to Sergeant First Class. His attitude was outstanding and he's ready to go again.

Anyway, my leave began on January 1st with a trip to Bagram Airfield about an hour north of Kabul. I had a good friend there, CSM Roger Haller, who met me at passenger in-processing. He had arranged for a place for me to sleep, knowing that I would not fly until the following day. We had dinner together and sat out in the cold smoking cigars and talking about home, families and other stuff. We had breakfast and he dropped me off at the passenger terminal so I could begin the trip home. We took a few pictures and I was off on the morning of the 2nd.

I'm not sure about the classification of the routing for troops headed home on leave so I'll be vague here. Suffice it to say that we hit a centralized, very sandy airfield where troops from Iraq, Afghanistan and Kuwait await a chartered flight home. The people that do the work there are exceptional. They have a great system and outbound personnel are moved quickly and efficiently home. I was on the east coast by 2 PM on the 4th of January and in my house in Maryland that evening. My 15 day leave clock didn't start until midnight that night. The system allows for us to have a full 15 days and nights to ourselves. Some people go to other countries but most go home.

Home was ...different. My wife had made some changes to the house that I knew about from our phone calls and e-mails but I had no idea that the place would look so nice. New paint, furniture and some electrical rewiring had made the house almost foreign. It took me a while but I figured out where most things were. I got to see all three of my daughters and my three grandsons. Several meetings with friends took place during the 15 days so I am sure that about 90% of who I wanted to see, I saw. Both of my parents are in North Carolina and neither can travel easily so I missed seeing them. I will be planning another road trip when I get home to visit them both.

The length of time was good. With everyone working the days got a little boring. Weekends were great but it was time to get back to work. I left from BWI on the morning of the 20th of January. My first leg took me to Atlanta. After in-processing there I was waiting for the military charter back when I noticed a news flash on CNN indicating that 12 Soldiers had been confirmed killed in a Blackhawk crash in Baghdad. Most of those watching were servicemembers and all of us paid attention to the brief but incomplete report. Those returning to Iraq outnumber those of us returning to Afghanistan so I am sure that the anxiety level of the Iraq-bound troops was increased much more than mine.

As efficient as was my trip home; my return to theater was not. Inbound personnel, when in competition with new personnel and equipment, seem to be the lost tribe. You almost have to live in the various airports in order to catch a flight. Weather had become an issue in Bagram so we waited forever. In all it took me 11 days to get back to my home FOB near Kabul. During a particularly long stretch of waiting in Qatar I learned that my friend, CSM Roger Haller, had been on the downed Blackhawk in Baghdad on the 20th. By the time I knew this, it was the 25th. I called my state Command Sergeant Major and confirmed the bad news. I also learned that the state had been trying to contact me through official channels for 5 days. Phones and internet are difficult to come by when in transit so there was no way to get the message through. The next 6 days were the most miserable of my life. Many of my travel companions knew my situation and they stuck with me or gave me the space I needed to grieve. One guy, SGT Allan Fisk, kept his eye on me the whole time. It was great to have him by my side and I will be forever grateful for his professional and personal assistance.

The picture above shows CSM Roger W. Haller (left) and me on January 1st at Bagram Airfield. The flag we are holding is a miniature version of the Regimental Colors of the 70th Regiment (LDR) a training regiment in the Maryland Army National Guard of which Roger was the Regimental Sergeant Major. He succeeded me in that position about a year ago. He sent this photo to all of our friends with the caption "The 70th Moves East". It is one of the last pictures taken of him.

In summary, my leave was great. Coming back sucked but not because I didn't want to come back. It's because Afghanistan has one less Soldier that I think was making a difference. Please remember to pray for our troops.

Sarmajor

CARE Packages

I remember a scene from the movie "The Battle of the Bulge" where Robert Shaw, playing a German tank commander is offered a piece of chocolate cake that was captured from an American supply convoy. He reacts violently, yelling at his subordinates that he is having trouble getting fuel for his vehicles from Germany (just a few miles away) while an American GI is getting fresh chocolate cake from the North American continent.
The only thing that I can see that has changed about the American's ability to send packages is that the volume has increased to where every service member deployed has had to have gotten at least one box from home. When I say home, I don't necessarily mean from a relative. I mean all types of supporters from everywhere in the US.
There is a woman in Ohio that sent pre-lit Christmas trees as well as packages of food to both our forward Tactical Operations Center (TOC) in Jalalabad as well as our brigade home base near Kabul. There is a couple in Frederick Maryland who took the time to individually write a note and attach an addressed envelope to eight boxes full of gifts so that each member of this command got one. Each gift was a small travel bag filled with candy and toiletries.
A Ford dealership (Bob Davidson - Parkville, MD - Great Selection, Come on down... Shameless, aren't I?) has sent over 200 pounds of boxes containing snacks, toiletries and home baked cookies to our brigade as well as hundreds of pounds more to deployed Marylanders in Iraq and at Guantanamo Bay.
This is all great, except for one big thing; the mail handlers at Bagram and other airfields where the boxes are coming in are overwhelmed. The boxes have to be prioritized and shipped by truck to other larger bases like Camp Phoenix and Jalalabad where the commands there break them down by unit and get them to their commands. We get them and have to figure out what can fit into our HumVees to be sent to forward locations to those that need them. An awful lot of times the packages that are not labeled from the service member's family have to be held at the unit mail room until another convoy, with room for mail, can take them out. More stuff is coming in daily so the backlog continues.
Now I feel the need to point out two major factors. First, we appreciate the packages from home and love getting the stuff to push out to the service members. Second, enough credit to all of the mail handlers in these units can not be over-stressed. They struggle daily with how to get as much stuff out to the troops as possible and they are incredible in their abilities to do just that. They work long, thankless hours. Not all of them work just the postal job. In most units the responsibility of mail handling is a shared job among the support people in a unit. In my brigade, Our supply sergeant, a Senior Airman in supply and a Petty Officer in our admin shop all work to get the mail sorted and sent forward. They do an outstanding job and I know that I am not alone in my praise for them.
The actual Postal Units that work here (like a Post Office at home) are manned primarily by Army Reservists. Most of their Soldiers rotate the responsibility of going out to units to take in mail, collect payment and ensure that it is protected during the ride back to Camp Phoenix and Bagram. They then make sure that they are mailed out. Most of the guys we see are from the 99th Reserve Support Command out of Pennsylvania and the Soldiers are from the mid-Atlantic states.
And I have to mention the letters, cards, school packages (with notes from students) that we get. They are handed around and read many times. One particular note from a Cub Scout in North Carolina showed a picture of a tank with a "force field" around it. An obvious "bad guy" had just fired a shoulder fired rocket at the tank and the force field protected it. This was his idea of a Veteran's Day card and we all got a kick out of it.
Thanks to you all for your prayers, packages, cards and thoughts. It means a lot to us.

Sarmajor

The USO Comes to... Camp Phoenix!

Americans at home need to know something. When you see reports from actors, singers and comedians that they spent some time over the holidays with the "troops" in Afghanistan they are referring to the troops that are easy to get to. The same troops that eat well, are seldom, if ever, shot at and who live in a world where Friday is a "reduced work day", better known in the civilian world as a day off. The guys that I work with don't ever get to Camp Phoenix where there is a Subway, a Dairy Queen, a Massage Parlor (the legit type... you know, properly monitored) and a local version of a Starbuck's called The Green Bean which is open 24 hours. My guys feel good when they get back to a location where there is some type of shower and a flushing toilet.
Even at Jalalabad Airfield (JAF), the Eastern home of the 10th Mountain Division, there is no scheduled USO entertainment. We get to see high ranking officers and politicians from home but there is no attempt to get us a planeload of entertainers to take the edge off of missing all of the holiday festivities that the rear area troops are seeing. I am not bitter about personally missing some of these events and facilities. I just would like to see some deeper thought about including more of the "marginally" forward areas into the travel schedule for these visits. I could get some of my Soldiers to JAF but Phoenix is 3 hours away by truck and trying to fly guys in to see the show is impossible. We are, however, invited. Which is probably worse than not knowing about it in the first place.
JAF is still a bit too close to the fighting for us to risk the possibility of losing people who were watching, or performing in, a USO show. If I was in charge of scheduling these things I would probably do no better than the guys doing it now. It's just frustrating to see the inequities that exist in this type of operation. I hope the show goes well and the entertainers know that their gesture is appreciated by any service member that knows they're coming. But Toby Keith, if you're reading this, rent an up-armored fleet of vehicles and a security crew and drive down near the area where the fighters are and you'll see some very appreciative people.

Sarmajor

Better B-Huts, Bunkers and Gardens

HOME IS WHERE YOU HANG YOUR HELMET...
For those of us that have served in the U.S. Army for any period of time we have known some pretty basic buildings that we have called home. In 1970 at Ft. Jackson, South Carolina, I lived in the same type of building that millions of Soldiers have lived in since the late 30's. They were (and, at some installations, still are) two-story buildings that had open bay sleeping areas with a latrine on the first floor and two to four smaller bedrooms that were generally occupied by NCOs. The joke in the 70's was that they were considered "temporary" at the time of their construction and were generally labeled with the letter T before their building number (like T-406). These buildings were well-known all around the U.S. and have been prominently displayed in such movies as "Stripes" and "A Soldier's Story". They had character. The exposed framing in the rooms made great shelves for smaller items like butt cans, weapon cleaning kits, toilet articles and the occasional beer can.

The massive sheet of linoleum that was waxed and buffed every night before lights out became the bane of many recruits because it was impossible to keep in a scuffless state long enough for the Drill Sergeant's inspection each morning. The plumbing sucked (literally in some buildings) and at some posts the heat was provided by a coal furnace that had to be stoked hourly all day and all night. Few recruits after the seventies realize that the name "Fire Guard" was originally assigned to the detail that kept the furnace going and was awake to sound the alarm in the event that the furnace erupted in flames.

But what has all of this got to do with Afghanistan...?
Well, the old barracks buildings of my youth have been replaced by B-Huts and Super B-Huts. I have never gotten a good answer about where the name came from. Most people say that it is a model name but no one can show me an A-Hut or a C-Hut. What they have in common with the old barrack buildings is simple. They are temporary and are designed to house Soldiers and other service members in a no-frills environment for an unspecified length of time. Few have functional windows; some have concrete floors and some were built with wooden floors over an open area that increases the heat in the summer and the cold draft in the winter. Other than that, they are identical in appearance. They are cheap to build, go in quickly and will fit anywhere.
One big difference between the barracks and the B-Hut is the presence of an attempt at air conditioning and heating through a small heat pump device called a Chigo. That's the brand name of most of them but has become the name of the device regardless of the manufacturer (kind of like Kleenex...). The plans are available to all commands so when we need to put a few in, we put the bid request out to local contractors and the award goes out in less than a week. Usually the construction begins within a few days of the award. The paint plan is included so all are a generic tan color with the occasional white trim.

They are everywhere. Even in the most remote locations, if we can get the materials to the site, there will be a B-Hut. In the mountainous areas where electricity is hard to maintain with a generator, we will see a wood-stove inside. In those locations air conditioning is seldom an issue. In the most remote sites where we can get stone contractors, we use stone huts. Those are rare.


But there are some locations where my guys work that a B-Hut or an alternative structure just won't do. They are forced to live in bunkers like the one pictured above, that are reinforced by immense logs, immense rocks, dirt-filled Hesco Bastion walls and sandbags. See the picture below for what a Hesco looks like. It's a name, like the B-Hut, that anyone serving here will never forget.
Bunkers are a source of pride for those that have been involved in their construction. The better the protection, both overhead and side, the better the rating. You have even more to be proud of if it includes only a short walk to the urinal (called a "piss tube", a Viet Nam era invention) and the latrine where the real work is done...
Life in a bunker is obviously pretty austere. The ETTs that sleep in bunkers do so in their clothing in close proximity to their body armor and weapons. They are usually in locations that are constantly under observation by the enemy. Showers, if there are any, are cold and taken only when necessary. Electricity is provided by small generators that are turned off at night so they don't inhibit the ability to hear enemy activity. Warmth is illusive but is often provided by one's own body heat in layered clothing and a good mountain sleeping bag.

Gardens... that just sounded good. There are no gardens. We never promised you a rose garden...

Sarmajor

The "Terps"

At first, you think that using the word "Terp" about another person could be derogatory. In my experience, any time that you abbreviate a title, it may make someone mad. "Doc" for a real doctor and "Sarge" for a Sergeant are examples where I know that some people will bristle when they are used. An interpretor in Afghanistan calls himself a Terp. It's a badge of honor and an indicator that we are dealing with a professional. While some of them are more outgoing and friendlier than others; all are respectful and willing to work in conditions that most Americans can only imagine.
An interpretor here is more than a mere translator. In the field he becomes the constant companion to the embedded trainers (ETT) assigned to this command. They pull their weight in manual labor and other work. They are attentive to to the defense of the team, and are providers of invaluable advice. They are also excellent monitors of cultural shifts that our American advisers wouldn't notice and they can help resolve a situation before it becomes messy. Without the right ones we would not be capable of being viewed as an ally to the soldiers in the Afghan National Army (ANA).
By the standards of this area, they are paid well. By our standards they are not paid anywhere near enough to risk their lives and those of their families and friends for what they do. If an ETT is assigned to a month-long stint at a forward position in the mountains overlooking the Pakistan border; his Terp is with him. Sharing a fighting position and going on patrol just like a soldier in his army. During one extended firefight recently, the Terps were carrying water, food and ammunition up steep mountains from the supply drop to the American and Afghan Soldiers who could not leave the fight to obtain their own supplies. In short, if the American ETT is doing a job, the Terp will more than likely be sharing the load.
Frequently, they are the targets of anti-coalition threats and violence. They receive warnings from the Taliban regarding their affiliation with us and other coalition forces. One of their protections is to avoid being seen near our facilities or in our vehicles. The younger ones pretty much live with the ANA and only visit relatives occasionally. The more mature Terps and those with families will not wear western style clothing or use government vehicles near their homes. It's kind of like a cop who lives in a rough neighborhood; the less his neighbors know bout him, the better.
As in any group, there are those that should not be here. Few of those will last long. Pretty much, the entire group is dedicated the advancement of this country in the eyes of the international community. They view us as welcome guests in their country and are actively participating in the pacification process here. In my book they have proven to be an outstanding group of unsung heroes.

Sarmajor

Winter Woes

It can snow like hell in Afghanistan. Nasty wet snow; snow that tastes like sulphur and salt. The reason I know what it tastes like is because I had the gunner duty on Saturday for about 6 hours. It snowed the entire time and, while I was not as cold as you would think, I was saturated above the waist from the crap. It was seeping through my facial cover and dripping into my mouth. I finally had to take the scarf off so I could spit it out. It then collected in my mustache making me reconsider my grooming for the rest of my time here. I also had two different drivers and both took great pleasure in driving headlong into deep and muddy potholes (better called potlakes) that send muddy water up and over the roof of the HummVee. The gunner protrudes from the roof "protected" by an armored cupola. That protection is designed for small arms fire and small, irregularly shaped, fast-moving objects. It does nothing for wind, mud or snow.
It also saturates your weapons. An M-2 .50 caliber machine gun is all steel. If it gets wet and is not cleaned as it dries, it will rust. I had not cleaned a Fifty Cal in over 30 years. It's an old weapon, first used in our military just after WWI so it was not designed with polymers and teflon that would make it easier to maintain. All of the moving parts require some sort of lubricant for it to continue to work well. It's truly an amazing weapon and it is a great gun to have on a convoy but it's a bear to disassemble, clean and reassemble. It reminds me of my old 58 VW when it comes to working on it. Unlike my younger brother, I NEED a book to remember what part goes where. Oh, did I mention it weighs 85 pounds? Just an added aggrevating factor... After the Ma Deuce was clean I then had to do my M4 rifle and M9 pistol. They are easy to do in comparison.
During this particular snowstorm I was in Darulaman (SW of Kabul) at Camp Cobra, our brigade headquarters. The attached photo is of the Queen's Palace which looms over our camp. On a clear day it is pretty awesome, even though it was blown to smithereens by the Mujaheddin in the early early 1990s. But you can tell from the photo that the snow is wet and sloppy. It sticks to everything. One of the advantages to being in an established FOB is that you have some of the amenities like satellite TV (no good stuff, just Armed Forces Network channels). Wet snow sticks to satellite dishes and someone has to climb up and sweep them out so the signal does not go into freeze-frame. We learned, too late, that if you spray the surface of the dish with PAM or WD40 the snow will not build up so fast. We'll wait for the storm to be over and we'll do that. In the meantime we'll sweep. Especially during the Oklahoma-Nebraska game, guys were sweeping like madmen. Our security force (SECFOR) guys are all from Oklahoma so they had people sweeping during the entire game.
The schools here close during the winter in Kabul and the summer in Jalalabad. Kids are out of school for 4 months (eat your heart out Colleen...). I have no idea what they do with their days but all of it includes walking in traffic and giving a thumb (or another finger) to passing tactical vehicles. This just adds to the aggravation we experience on the roads. Have I mentioned the roads yet...?
Back to work for me. Stay warm.

Sarmajor