34 HOURS IN KANDAHAR

(27SEPT2008)

My time in Kandahar is relatively short. I am primarily pressing the flesh with folks I work with but haven’t met, and seeing if there’s anything I can do for them (there isn’t). I’m also making contacts which, in my experience, will come in handy later.

As soon as we arrive Thursday night, we put our names on the list for a flight back to Bagram. We’re told the earliest flight has a showtime of 0430 Saturday morning. There is groaning.

Friday is spent shuttling from office to office meeting people, and taking in Kandahar for the first time. My POC here has been on the ground for 3.5 years and has seen the base change dramatically in that time. When he got here, he scrounged for everything he needed, building his office with a hammer and nails he “borrowed”. He tells me “If a piece of plywood fell off a truck anywhere on base, I’d catch it before it hit the ground.”

The base itself has an obvious international flavor to it. Run by NATO, American forces are outnumbered by those from other countries. In my short time there, I see soldiers from the UK, New Zealand, Poland, Estonia, Slovakia, Canada, France, Switzerland, and Belgium. Every soldier has their country’s flag on their uniform, and those are just the ones I recognized.

Adding to the realization that we’re not on a US base is the Big Voice, announcing with a thick British accent which I find incomprehensible, and the DFAC whose food is just a little off. At breakfast I see scores of people putting something called Weetabix in their cereal; it looked to me like a dog biscuit. I ask for sausage and receive something undercooked – it was like eating the appendage of some gelatinous creature. Lunch is more of the same, and it’s all enough to make me long for my DFAC at Bagram.

Late in the afternoon we’re largely done with our mission and I sneak off to the MWR to scrounge for books and watch a baseball game. With the game tied in the 9^th inning, the siren wails again and we move outside to hunker down in concrete shelters where we remain for about an hour. I miss the rest of the game.

Not wanting to eat at the DFAC again, I offer to buy dinner at one of the few restaurants on post, all of which are situated on or near “the boardwalk”. While most bases have an area where off-duty personnel can congregate and relax, Kandahar’s boardwalk is the nicest I’ve seen. It’s a large wooden walkway enclosing an open sand area set up for sports, to include a concrete hockey rink in one quadrant.

Our Kandahar native suggests the Dutch restaurant and I’m surprised to see that we can actually sit down inside of it; usually what passes for a restaurant on Army bases is fast-food take-out. That’s all we have in Bagram. After reading the long list of menu items they’re out of, we each order a cheeseburger with fries, and enjoy a relaxing meal at an honest to goodness table.Afterward, we walk around the boardwalk poking into gift shops and watching the Canadians play hockey – no ice or skates, just sneakers on concrete – under the lights. At one point, an Indian on one team scores a goal and runs around with his arms in the air yelling “Score one for the brown guy!”

We eventually return to our POC’s hooch to get some much-needed sleep before our early showtime. He lives near the waste water management ponds and the wind is delivering an overwhelming stink into his living area. He’s prepared though; his shelves are littered with every variety of air freshener the PX has ever offered, and he soon thwarts the smell. I can’t help but reflect that he’s been living like this for 3.5 years.

We’re up and dressed again long before I escape into any meaningful dreams. The APOD is almost deserted at this early hour and we’re certain to make it onto the flight. We check in and watch some boxing, each of us dozing intermittently for the next 3+ hours until we’re told to board our flight.

It’s a Blackwater STOL flight, the same kind I took down to Sharana earlier this month. We pile in and I take a few pictures out of the expectedly dirty window before I fall asleep. We get into Bagram around 0930 and I waste a good portion of the day making up for lost sleep.


NATO = North Atlantic Treaty Organization
DFAC = Dining FACilities
MWR = Morale, Welfare and Recreation
PX = Post Exchange
STOL = Short Take-Off and Landing

WELCOME TO KANDAHAR

(25SEPT2008)

It’s always better to travel with someone in theater, so that you have someone to complain to and so that you can look at him and think “I hope I don’t look that tired.” You of course look even more tired.

My colleague and I put our names on the waiting list to get to Kandahar days in advance and so by today, when we’re ready to travel, we’ve broken into the top 10 spots. These are good odds for making a flight, and we score a flight with a showtime just after 1700.

Showtime is when you have to be in the APOD or you lose your seat. You hand over your CAC, weigh your baggage, and then wait for anywhere between 30 minutes and forever until your plane arrives. If it arrives. Many flights are cancelled or diverted, often with no explanation.

We waited just under 4 hours for our flight, put on our IBA and kevlar (required for flights on C-130s) and are escorted across the tarmac carrying our bags. I can’t help but reflect that I’m very used to boarding aircraft from the tarmac now. Proper airports and terminals with their accordion walkways are a luxury we don’t have in theater.

I dislike C-130s, having had two particularly bad flights on them in the past, but this flight is less than full (a rarity) and so we have a little room to spread out. I’m able to get a little shut-eye on the almost 2 hour flight from Bagram to Kandahar.

We arrive around 2200 and as we’re walking from the plane to the APOD where we have to sign in, we’re quickly ushered inside about a minute before a siren wails. We’ve arrived just ahead of a rocket attack and apparently everyone heard the explosion except me.

We’re stuck inside for about an hour waiting for the Big Voice to give the “All clear”. I’m told that the APOD where we wait is the location of the Taliban’s last organized stand, and my colleague points out bullet holes that have been hastily plastered over and a charred ceiling. The next day we visit in the daylight to see un-repaired portions; crumbled walls and gaping holes in the roof.

We have another colleague who works in Kandahar and as the base is overfull and there is no transient housing available, we retire to his office (attached to his living quarters) and I lay my sleeping bag on an air mattress between two desks.

It’s probably the best night’s sleep I’ve had in Afghanistan.


APOD = Aerial Port of Debarkation
CAC = Common Access Card (military ID card)
IBA = Interceptor Body Armor
kevlar = term we use solely for our helmets

ON TO KANDAHAR

(25SEPT2008)

My colleague and I are top of the waiting list for a flight to Kandahar tonight. It looks like it's going to be another C-130, and the flight is quite a bit longer than the one to Sharana. We're hoping for a quick turnaround, but it all depends on air asset availability for the return trip.

We'll see.

TUNA BRIDGE

(24SEPT2008)

The sign on the bridge reads:

‘The Berg-Kamps

Tuna Bridge

The legend of Tuna Bridge

In the summer of 2003, this crossing only existed as a jump across the ditch with a steep climb up the road. One sunny afternoon while CJCMOTF LTC Tom Berg and CSM Kevin Kamps were executing this crossing, they noticed a slightly exposed metal ring in one of the footholds created by many soldiers wanting to cross the street en route to the original Viper tent village. Having previously attended a landmine class (and having paid attention), they stopped movement on the gravel walkway and alerted Based Ops. The entire intersection was cordoned off, stopping Disney traffic for over 30 minutes, and EOD was brought in to unearth the potential mine. The mission was a success and EOD dug up… and unopened can of Russian tuna fish. Not long after, the bridge was constructed and named “Tuna Bridge” in honor of this event.’

CJCMOTF = Combined Joint Civil-Military Operations Task Force

LTC = Lieutenant Colonel

CSM = Command Sergeant Major

EOD = Explosive Ordnance Disposal

GIVING LIFTS

(22SEPT2008)

When I was in Balad, Iraq, I had my own vehicle and would often give lifts to soldiers who were waiting for shuttles to get around post. I made good contacts this way and at any rate I was doing them a favor and it was the least I could do.

As my office in Balad was only a short walk from the hospital, I would usually swing by and pick up soldiers in casts and on crutches who were struggling to get to the PX to buy toiletries or other sundries. I remember one soldier I picked up was limping pretty bad and I felt like I was doing my good deed for the day, helping a wounded soldier by giving him a lift to the Taco Bell. Then he told me he broke his ankle playing basketball and I didn't feel so bad for him anymore.

This morning I was riding with two of my colleagues and we were headed from the laundry point to the APOD when we saw an Air Force CPT with several USPS packages waiting at a shuttle stop. As the APOD is right near the Post Office, we offered her a lift and she happily hopped in.

Turns out she's working near Kabul and is in Bagram on her way out for R&R. She's part of a team that is training the ANA how to set up, operate, and maintain telecommunication hubs. She told us that it's been a little hard going. Setting up satellite dishes is fairly technical and many of the ANA soldiers she works with had never seen a computer before. When I asked her what the ANA soldiers were most impressed by, she said "The mouse. They can't believe the mouse does what it does."

APOD = Aerial Point of Debarkation
CPT = Captain
USPS = United States Postal Service
R&R = Rest and Relaxation (leave/vacation)
ANA = Afghan National Army

THE KITE-FLIER

(21SEPT2008)

There's a village just outside post which I can only catch glimpses of sometimes, between the barriers and concertina wire. I often forget it's even there. Today as I was walking back to my room I was admiring the particularly good view of the Hindu Kush mountains and there in front of me was a single kite against the backdrop.

It reminded me, unsurprisingly, of the book The Kite Runner, but more than that it was just a nice idyllic little moment that made me think of the child in that village just being a kid and not embroiled in the conflict going on in his country.

FALLEN COMRADE CERMONY #3

(21SEPT2008)

We report at 0750 along Disney Drive, filing in along the road on both sides. It takes some time for everyone to show up, and the report time is well in advance of the procession because of that.

I chat with the guy next to me while we wait. He’s a special agent for the FBI investigating, among other things, the theft of a large amount of fuel several years back. Seems some Americans (not sure if they were soldiers or not) collaborated to divert shipments of fuel and sold them for their own personal gain. The fuel ended up on the black market and, undoubtedly, in the hands of the enemy.

All in all it’s a disappointing story to hear. The agent gives me his card and asks me to let him know if I catch wind of any criminal activity. It was an odd sales pitch.

The procession comes shortly thereafter. Two caskets, draped with the American flag, each in the back of a HMMWV carrying soldiers from the unit of the fallen. We stand at attention and salute.

HMMWV = High-Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle (‘humvee’)