GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER - AGAIN

(WEEK OF 25-28FEBRUARY 2009)

GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER - AGAIN

We have another VIP visit, and associated dinner, this week.

AMC (my MACOM) changed leadership in November, and the new CG, a 4-star General, is coming through for a site visit and high-level meetings. She also works in time for the perfunctory meal with the staff followed by a short speech and Q&A.

It’s always fun to see a general officer, and the more stars the better so long as you’re not asked to brief them. I briefed the former CG once and it was made very clear to me beforehand that I’d better be completely squared away - I hadn’t actually needed that advice, as I’d seen him tear into some guys before. I practiced my brief for hours beforehand and it went well.

This time all I’m asked to do is eat and listen. I am among the world’s best at those two things.

The dinner is held in a room off the side of the main dining room at the DFAC, and the food is the same as it always is for these events: steak, macaroni and cheese, green beans, mashed potatoes, bread, salad.

The visiting contingent is actually quite a bit larger than usual, with the CG bringing a BG (1-star), an MG (2-star), her CSM, and an acting Assistant Secretary of the Army (a post which is normally a presidential appointment though was not in this case, thus the “acting”).

The dinner goes off without incident, and it’s interesting to hear the ASA and CG speak about their experiences in Afghanistan - what strikes them as needing work, etc. The ASA answers some logistical questions about moving equipment through Pakistan (often hairy) and there are the common and expected questions about housing - there is never enough housing.

After the Q&A, a select few of the BDE staff are presented awards for their service in country as they prepare to return home. Generally the BDE CDR will pin the medals, but they try to take advantage of the CG’s presence and she’s obviously amenable to taking part in the ceremony.

A brief statement is read with everyone standing at attention, and the CG pins a medal on the lapel of the honoree. A handshake with each of the CG and ASA complete the ceremony, and then the honored says a few words of appreciation.

The crowd dissipates fairly quickly after the awards, though the CG and ASA stick around for a few minutes to take pictures with some of the pack. I’m chatting with a colleague near the back of the room when the CG comes by to pick up her cover. She smiles at me and we shake hands.

“Thanks for your service,” she says.

“Thank YOU, ma’am.”

AMC = Army Materiel Command
MACOM = Major Command
CG = Commanding General
DFAC = Dining Facility
BG = Brigadier General
MG = Major General
CSM = Command Sergeant Major
BDE CDR = Brigade Commander

***

TRAILBLAZERS

One of the persons receiving an award for service well done, just prior to her redeployment* is my friend and colleague Dianne.

Dianne has always been one of the more squared-away persons I work with at the BDE, and iss helpful and friendly to boot. I have a chance to catch up with her after the dinner and she indicates that it is a particular honor to be presented her civilian service award by GEN Dunwoody, our CG.

The reason for this is that GEN Dunwoody, in addition to being our CG, was the first woman to reach the rank of 4-Star General (or equivalent) in any branch of the US military - an advancement rightly earned by all accounts. It was a big deal when she pinned on the 4th star last November, and it made it more of an honor to meet her, listen to her speak, and to shake her hand.

My friend Ken, a SFC, was serving at FT BELVOIR, VA, last November when she was promoted, and was asked to be a security escort during the ceremony - one of a large team. Aware of the historicity of the event, he gladly served, and also asked his wife to bring their two young daughters.

Dianne is genuinely moved by the experience, and tells me a little about her own experiences in the military. I hadn’t known that Dianne served, but not only had she been an officer, she went to West Point in 1976 as a member of the first class to admit women cadets.

We unfortunately don’t get a chance to speak at length about her experiences during that time, but I am duly impressed. It seems even more appropriate, now, that she had the opportunity to meet and be honored by another trailblazer, and put into perspective for me the strides that have been made by and for women in the military.

Not that we’re done advancing, of course.

BDE = Brigade
CG = Commanding General
SFC = Sergeant First Class

* Redeployment = going home. It sounds more like you’re deploying again, and for this reasonI have long argued for the use of “undeploying” but it hasn’t caught on.

***

HE CALLS HIMSELF “A RELIC”

Though I didn’t get a chance to speak to him (aside from a “Hi, how are you?” - “Good, sir”) the AMC CSM, CSM Mellinger, is actually the last active duty draftee in the US military.

Drafted in 1972 during the Nixon administration for service during the Vietnam War, CSM Mellinger is still serving after almost 27 years and is the highest-ranking NCO in my command.

AMC = Army Materiel Command
CSM = Command Sergeant Major
NCO = Non-Commissioned Officer

***

YOU THINK I’M SOMEONE ELSE, DON’T YOU?

I’m certain this COL has me confused with someone else.

I see him once a week at a VTC held at the BDE, and occasionally out and about the post. Every time I see him, he gets a big smile and shakes my hand, pats me on the back, and animatedly asks how I am. I respond in kind, but with a fair amount of confusion tinging the whole experience from my end.

I thought at first that he’s just a very friendly guy, and by all appearances he does seem particularly nice, especially for an O-6. But I can be sitting in a row of people, all of whom he sees as often as he sees me, and he picks me out to greet, happily.

A few months ago I had a request from home that I chased up a chain to a MAJ who stonewalled me. She was downright rude, and refused to help, which baffled me because I wasn’t asking for much. This MAJ ultimately worked for the abovementioned COL (though there are some folks in between), and I considered going over her head to him for help.

I worried about that, though, because I was afraid if I actually explained what it is I do, he’d realize I’m not whoever he thinks I am. It’s not that I wanted the attention, but I was afraid it would embarrass him, and therefore me, when it dawned on him that I hadn’t said anything earlier.

Luckily, the request was pulled back from the home office and I walked away from the problem, letting the MAJ think she won (which rankled me).

Before the 4-star dinner, I see this COL and he walks by me, smiling. I have grown a beard and probably need to trim it up; the COL actually pulls on my beard for a second and says “Gettin’ pretty scruffy!” and keeps walking.

I can only imagine he has me confused with someone else.

COL = Colonel
VTC = Video Teleconference
BDE = Brigade
O-6 = the rank of COL in Army
MAJ = Major

A DENTIST AND THE MOUNTAINS

(24FEB2009)

I have taken far too many pictures of the mountains.

I grew up on an island and perhaps over many years at and around the beach I eventually came to take them for granted. When I commuted to college I drove over one of the most picturesque bridges every single day, twice, and at some point maybe it stopped taking my breath away.

Having moved away from Rhode Island several years ago and returning maybe once a year, the majesty of the ocean has returned and I am moved by the many views my hometown has to offer – I always take some time to drive around the island, and I have my favorite spots to catch a view, to get my fill.

I have apparently not been in Afghanistan long enough to be lulled by the mountains.

Every time I walk out of my front door, my eyes turn to the mountains – is it clear today? Are they snow-capped? More or less snow than yesterday? Are there clouds lollygagging around the peaks? Is the sun almost sneaking behind them?

When I drive from one side of post to the other (almost daily, and often more than once daily), I have my camera out to catch a picture of an ascending plane against the mountains in the background or a unique view of the sun or the clouds on the mountains. I believe I’ve taken almost every picture that could be taken, but I can’t stop. The mountains still awe me.

Today I walk out of my room, see that it’s a clear day, and see that I’m not the only one who sees it. A soldier is standing up on the bunker outside my door, taking pictures of the peaks. I’ve done that.

He climbs down after a few minutes and asks me if I know what mountains these are – “The Hindu Kush”, I tell him. He tells me he’s new in country, just arrived yesterday, and that he’s blown away by the view. We chat for a few minutes; he’s a dentist and I have teeth, so that’s a subject. He’s doing a short tour – just four months. I’d be home now if that were my length of deployment.

He asks me about the post, and I feel like an old-timer, a veteran of Bagram Air Field, because I know my way around and can give directions to the 4 places anyone would ever want to go.

He thanks me for my time, and I send him on his way with “Welcome to Afghanistan.”

WASTED TIME?

(23FEB2009)

I often go to lunch late, which affords me a table to myself and time to read.

I’m reading and munching, reading and drinking today when a gaggle of soldiers sits down at the next table and begins horsing around and talking loudly. From the snippets of their conversation I hear, it’s obvious that they’re new in country.

The first thing I think is that I don’t remember what it’s like to be new in country. I’ve been here just shy of 6 months now, which is a good chunk of time – more than some deployments in their entirety.

They start talking about what they brought with them. One mentions he has a guitar that he plans to learn while he’s here, and another says he brought a harmonica. It is not, I’m sure, that they won’t be busy with their jobs here – almost everyone is – but there is always downtime, and they’re smart, I think, to make good use of it.

I always deploy with grand thoughts of what I’ll do with my spare hours – I’ll write or learn a foreign language, I’ll take classes online or workout more. I never do them, though, or at least never to the extent that I planned when I was still in the States.

It’s like being in prison, I think. If you’ve got to be there, you might as well make use of the time as best you can. I work, a lot, but I do have free time. I write this blog, though not nearly as much as I should, and I workout, though again not nearly as much as I should.

I think sometimes that I’m just doing my time, but I don’t want to just survive this (though that is the bare minimum for a successful deployment). I certainly have learned a lot, and of course I have a job I’m proud of and which is important, but there’s always something more I could be doing, something more I could take home with me.

I’m spending an awful lot of time out here in the Middle East, and am sacrificing a lot more than just time to be here. I should strive to make the most of the opportunity presented me, away from all the distractions of home.

I’m going to ask for a piano in my next care package.

UNMANNED

(21FEB2009)

Robots are cool.

While my job only tangentially and occasionally involves robots, I have always enjoyed the opportunities I’ve had to see them in action and to learn about the many new uses the US armed forces are finding for them. A good friend of mine Stateside works on robots, and I’ve been reading Wired For War about the growth of robotics in the military.

One of the contractors who falls under my lead here works with a particular UAS, but because he’s stationed at another FOB, I rarely see him or the system. By contrast, when I was in Iraq, I worked side-by-side with a young lady working with the Hunter UAS. She and I would chat about their mission, and on a few occasions she brought me to the unit.

My favorite part, by far, was hanging out in the control room while they were flying a mission. The camera mounted on the system was beaming back live video of someone they were tracking – and the person on the ground had no idea the UAS was circling above them.

I could have stayed in there for hours, it was so damn cool.

Not all robots are aerial, of course. The Johnny-5-like robots with treads are wheeled out to investigate possible explosives, disarm them, and the like. They come with a wide variety of payloads – primarily sensors and grasping arms – and I have seen their use grow during my time with the Army as well. One could do a lot worse than to steer a career toward robots of either kind – they are undoubtedly the future of the military, in ways both obvious and as yet unknowable.

Today, I took advantage of a long-standing offer of a friend to tour a UAS hangar and control center here on Bagram. I invited Izzy, knowing that he would find it of interest, and in the hopes that he’ll remember to invite me on any field trips he has access to in the future.

While there is much about the system, the unit, and their mission I can’t discuss, suffice it to say that it was as interesting as ever. There happened to be an aircraft landing while we were there, so we saw the feed from the camera: the mountains, the surrounding town, the base. The runway got closer and closer and then we walked out to see the plane land and wheel into the hangar.

On the drive back to our hooch, the conversation hits on television and I make a comment about the poor quality of the AFN channels here. Of the 8 AFN channels I get, 2 of them are in black and white, 1 has no audio, and another has the audio offset from the video enough to make it unwatchable.

Izzy looks at me skeptically. “Mine are fine,” he says. “Have you programmed your television?”

I, of course, have not programmed my television. I fell in on the room and television and (stupidly) trusted that the previous occupant would have done so.

When I get to my room, I program the television and let it automatically search for channels, rearranging all of them and correcting the problems I’d been experiencing with AFN since, oh, August.

So as the US military grows increasingly high-tech, I needlessly watched a season of football in black & white.

AFN = Armed Forces Network
UAS = Unmanned Aerial System or Unmanned Aircraft System
FOB = Forward Operating Base

OVERNIGHT SIREN

(20FEB2009)

Last night a siren went off after midnight, warning of an attack.

Most attacks are indirect fire, usually referring to mortars which the enemy likes to pop off so that they can scoot away in the hopes of avoiding return fire.

Sirens are very rare here on Bagram. They occur far less regularly than in Balad, Iraq, where we never went more than a few days without an attack, though they were almost universally ineffective.

The siren accordingly takes me by surprise, but based on the tone of it no immediate action is required other than to hunker down. Depending on the pitch (wavering or constant), duration, and any follow-up messages from the Big Voice, we may have to put on our armor and helmets, take cover in the nearest bunker (about 15 feet from my front door), and/or call our command for accountability.

I will never learn what caused this alarm, though I’m sure if I asked around someone would know. Certainly my friend Trey in the BTN could find out – he’s shown me similar intelligence reports in the past. It would also be common knowledge if an attack were ever successful – whether causing loss of life or property damage – so usually I just wait for the intel to reach me through natural channels and assume it was nothing if I hear nothing.

It may also have been a drill, though that’s less likely.

The siren going off does remind me of how close we I live to the wire. The hesco baskets and concertina wire that separate Bagram Air Field from the rest of Afghanistan is about 20 yards from my hooch.

Izzy, who lives in the other half of the building I live in, often jokes that when people from home ask him if he needs anything, he says he wants a tennis racket so that if the bad guy throws a grenade over the wire he can return it to them.

BTN = Battalion

ONE LESS THING TO LOOK FORWARD TO

(20FEB2009)

New experiences are a rare treat, and must be savored.

We live in a very confined world in theater – while I’m lucky to travel as part of my job, I will spend the large majority of my deployment on Bagram Air Field and the world defined by its borders – approximately 8 miles in circumference. There are only so many places to go on base, a limited number of new things to do or see.

I have purposely put off doing some things just so that I’d have something to look forward to later on, some new experience when the Groundhog Day syndrome acts up and I start to go a little batty.

There is apparently a Dairy Queen on post that serves burgers and other sandwiches. Izzy goes there at least once a week; his and other testimonials insist that the food is good – it is, at least, not DFAC food. I have never been.

There is also what’s called a Foo Store on post, near where the bazaar is held on Fridays; it's the inside of a container set up as a cramped store selling electronics and bootleg DVDs.

I went to the Foo Store for the first time today.

In Iraq, we had a bazaar open 4 days a week that sold little other than bootleg DVDs. They were inexpensive, and the variety of titles was impressive. The Foo Store does not match up to my experiences in Iraq, but it’s all we’ve got.

The prices are still decent, though a bit higher than in Iraq, but the variety is very limited. They, as in Iraq, tend toward selling seasons of television shows more than individual movies. The quality of all discs is questionable, as always – sometimes they work only in computers, sometimes they are dubbed in Russian, often they are shaky-cam videos taken from a theater complete with crunching popcorn and coughing audiences, and sometimes an hour into Iron Man you’ll find yourself watching an 80’s medical melodrama (as happened to Izzy).

It’s important to note, of course, that these bootlegs are illegal. Produced in China (I’m told), they are in direct violation of the FBI warning against copyright piracy that are faithfully reproduced on the bootlegs.

I buy a few movies, in the hopes that I’ll find the time to watch them, and I cross off one more thing I won’t be able to do for the first time out here.

DFAC = Dining Facility

(ANOTHER) LUNCH CONVERSATION

(19FEB2009)

The guy who scooped food on to my lunch tray today said “good luck” when he handed it to me.

I didn’t appreciate that. It’s obvious that English is not his first language, though, so I took my tray and found a seat. I bring a book with me to meals and enjoy the escape, the break, but often find myself chatting up the people around me.

My book didn’t make it out of my pocket today.

A very chatty female AF SGT sits down across from me just as I’m settling in, and she quickly starts asking me what I do. My service tag – “RDECOM” – often elicits questions, as I am likely the only person in Afghanistan with that on my chest. The active Army all have “US ARMY” tags, and the KTRs don’t wear uniforms at all, so it’s only us civilians who offer any variety in that regard.

I tell her what I do and she tells me a little about her work, and we get to talking about traveling in Afghanistan and around the world. We’d both spent some time in Croatia, though she was serving there during the war and I was there as a student some years afterward. She tells me about her time on a small base in the outback in Australia, and I regret that my job will never take me to such locations.

We talk about other bases in Afghanistan, and she shows me on her camera some pictures from her recent trip to Kabul. I’ve heard interesting things about the bases in that city, though it will be a stretch for my efforts here to ever take me there. Most of my work involves Army vehicles and equipment being used in the fight, and Kabul is primarily an HQ, where all the high-ups and muckety-mucks are.

As much as I’d love to tour the country for curiosity’s sake, it’s not at all why I’m here. While the dangers of traveling around Afghanistan are low, they’re certainly greater than staying put in Bagram, and so every trip away has to be justified – if to no one else, than to myself.

I’ll largely stick around home (where Bagram = home), but I am glad that in the course of my work I’m able to escape from time to time for a change of pace and, more importantly, to do a better job.

AF SGT = Air Force Sergeant

RDECOM = Research, Development, Engineering Command

KTR = Contractor