Idle Thought

Given the current administration's penchant for laying blame at others' feet...  if the war in Afghanistan ends up being a colossal failure, will we have leaks and statements from the White House about how the strategy was right, but poorly executed (for any multitude of reasons) by those in the theater (i.e. the troops)?

A Moment of Note... from Afghanistan

This post has a bit of "Jointness" to it. I received an email from my close friend, a Marine, who received it from his friend, in the Air Force. It details a U-2 unit honoring the loss of a Soldier (Army) in Afghanistan.

I'll copy the e-mail here:

Sent: Monday, July 14, 2008 1:36 PM
Subject: Moment of note in the AOR


Had to share one of the most poignant moments of my 19-year career.
Today one of our young A1C U-2 crew chiefs learned his brother, an Army E-4,
was "killed in action" in Afghanistan yesterday. The AMU rallied, rapidly
did some beautiful chalk nose art on a jet flying an OEF combat mission
today and put his brother's unit logo on the tail. He launched it before
heading home to his family tonight. Folks from across maintenance and ops
came out to pay their respect and launch the mission. A1C Z******** is a
strong man and I'm proud to serve with him.

PTSD

I can't comment too much on this topic. Not even sure what I'd comment.

But I've read this over and over...

Memorial to SGT Ross

When I was in Afghanistan, we lost a chopper and we lost someone from our unit. In the post I wrote at the time, I referred to Fred. Well, "Fred" was SGT Ken Ross I called him "Fred" due to OpSec, but he was a friend..

SGT Ross had been attached into our unit from a sister unit. When he died, his original unit didn't do anything for them (perhaps because their base was closing, but still...).

Some very fine folks in my unit at Illesheim did a wonderful thing. They ensured that a memorial was done for SGT Ross. It is the nicest memorial on the base, nestled with many others in the base's memorial park.

The day before we flew, I took some time to stop by the memorial, and give SGT Ross one last salute. I also took some pictures of the memorial.

(By the way... if you look super closely at the first picture, you can see Ellicia sitting in the car waiting for me. That was our BMW that we had in Germany.)

Hotel California

And so, Day 4... or 5... I'm not really sure.

Feel like a slug.

Sleep schedule is REALLY messed up. Sleep 2-3 hours here, 8 there. All times of day or night. Nothing to do.

Well, there is the Internet. But it's for the low, low AAFES price of $5 per hour. That's right, $5 per hour. AAFES "goes where we go" because they know they can fleece us blind. There are at least 30 machines in this Internet cafe, at least 75% in use 24 hours a day. That's an average of $2700 taken in per day, $81000 per month. There is NO way their internet service costs that much.

But we pay it. What else to do? Use phone cards to call someone? AT&T (and it's partner AAFES) have extremely low rates on the military calling cards - rates of 14 to 17 cents a minute are often found.

Let's see, what else to do?

Well, I walk a lot. I've done a few mind-numbing laps around the camp. That was fun.

Watched the sun go down.

Enjoyed the private airshow we get by being close to the airbase.

There's always chow. DFAC here is awesome... but, have to be careful... since I'm as active as a slug right now, I can quickly gain back what I lost (yes, LOST!!!) on leave.

So, we sit.

And sleep.

And show up to the formations, regularly scheduled at 0900 and 1700, and whenever else they'd like to see us.

I just bought shaving creme (I'm out, but have several full cans waiting for me at KAF - thought I'd have enough to make the trip... wrong.) and a towel for a shower. Going to scrounge up some laundry detergent. All of which means that now that I've spent $$$ on stuff I didn't want to buy, I'll get a flight before I can use it.

Cabin fever here.

Don't get me wrong... it's not bad here. (Relatively speaking...)

Although, they should tell people before testing their sirens. This camp is a stopover for people going to and returning from the combat zones. Perhaps a warning about the sirens going off would be appropriate? Heard them go off myself, first thought was, "Wonder where the bunkers are?" segueing into "There are none..." then to "Oh well, back to sleep - nothing can do about it." Heard later some people were fairly jumpy.

Anyway, that's the news...

Still In Kuwait

We have several formations a day where we all shuffle to the big room, wait to find out who's flying and who's not. Since Kandahar is about the hardest to get to, we're starting to add up.

No one's really in a hurry. As much as we HATE staying here (Cannot describe the intensity of the boredom here), it's still better than there.

Besides, our clocks are running whether we're here or there... so... why rush. They'll get us back when they do...

So, till later...

On The Way Back...

I'm now back in the Holding Pen in Kuwait. What a morose experience this has turned out to be.

Leaving the family in Frankfurt (again) was just about as horrible as it can get. M clinging tightly, T being sweet, and E doing her best to let me be the only one with tears in the eyes.

On the flight to Qatar, of the servicefolks I saw, none of us were talking.

When we arrived at Kuwait International Airport, we had a bit of a surreal experience. Here we are, proceeding back to the war(s), but first... we must clear customs. We're all just showing our military IDs (instead of everyone else using passports), and here is a large military contingent moving through, but first - we have to be screened. Ahhhh, the joys of flying commercially to the war.

We were herded together and told to wait for our buses. When they arrived, they guided us through the airport, and we were just being stared at. You could have led naked women on camels through the airport and seen the same reaction.

Long ride back to the base with the "covert" escorts. And the inprocessing begins. Soon, good-bye to the civvies, and back to the war.

Yippee.

Joy.

Just $!@$% fantastic.

An Anonymous Moonbat Writes In

Oooooooh, I received a special present in my inbox this morning. It appears that my blog (if moonbats are to be believed) is read in such far away places as... Malta! Delightful. And here I thought it was just a small diary of what goes on in my life.

Anyways, this particular moonbat posted a comment to my long post about the goings on in Malta. I suspect it wasn't the picture of Thomas that got it agitated so much as, and I'm going out on a limb here, the description of the "Million Maltese March".

To be fair to the moonbats, whom by seeing the protest attendance don't get too many people hearing their view, I'm going to bring the comment out for EVERYone to see (there's what... 6 or 7 of you reading this now?).

So, here now, from our beloved on location moonbat in Malta:

While you have been having a break with your family in Malta, you creep, I wonder how many Afghan families you and your fellow assassins have destroyed.

You do not achieve democracy by UNDEMOCRATIC means. Put that in your little mind and try to explain it to the little minds of Americans who think like you. Luckily, you are in a minority of fascists in uniform.

A MALTESE PEACE-LOVER

I would have been more than happy to respond intellectually with our intrepid moonbat, though judging by the "you creep", I'm not likely to get a positive response.

Anyway, I've never been called a fascist before and it is quite a new feeling. I almost feel like I should be wearing jackboots or such, and while I did transit Italy on my trip, I didn't have the opportunity to check in with the Mussolini society.

What is a fascist? Well, any good dictionary will tell you that it's one who supports fascisim. But the GREAT dictionaries, such as Merriam-Webster Online, further define it as:
Main Entry: fas·cism
Pronunciation: 'fa-"shi-z&m also 'fa-"si-
Function: noun
Etymology: Italian fascismo, from fascio bundle, fasces, group, from Latin fascis bundle & fasces fasces
1 often capitalized : a political philosophy, movement, or regime (as that of the Fascisti) that exalts nation and often race above the individual and that stands for a centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, severe economic and social regimentation, and forcible suppression of opposition
2 : a tendency toward or actual exercise of strong autocratic or dictatorial control - fas·cist /-shist also -sist/ noun or adjective, often capitalized

So, according to this, *I* support dictators, and severe economic and social regimentation. Darn my near-perfect voting record and support of capitalism. Forcible suppression of opposition would have meant I'd delete the comment.

I don't think fascism means what our moonbat thinks it means.

But, maybe I'm wrong. So, attention fellow little minds (especially those in uniform):
Support Fascism! Get out and vote. Vote often. Spend your money... Spread it around. And don't forget to share ideas. Long live Fascism.

Oh, and one last thing... it should be noted dear peace-lover in Malta that the most fervent, die-hard anti-war persons are... Soldiers. Soldiers hate war. Especially those who've been in it. No Soldier wishes to fight a war. We strive for peace. Keep that in mind, little or big.

Follow-on Grieving

Yesterday, we had a wake for the fallen crew. In the Chinook hangar, they played a montage of photos of the crew that had been contributed by the unit. Was long and an amazing variety showing the thrill for living that they'd exhibited. Everything from the crew and their birds to... an outing at Hooters.

Was odd to see the hangar darkened as it was... and so quiet. Crowded and quiet. No maintenance going on, and dark as can be except for the projections...

Today, we had the memorial service. This is what most people are familiar with. There were five pairs of boots, five rifles, five flight helmets, and five dogtags.

Great speeches...

Had visitors from the rear and sister units in Bagram fly down.

Overall, nicely done.

The War Marches On

By now, you’ve seen it in the news about the Chinook going down in Afghanistan. Five Soldiers died. It was from our base. I knew one of the guys. He was in my unit. He lived two doors down from me.

Sunday morning started just like any other day. Same thing every day. Shortly after 0330, we got word of a gag order. Grrrrrreeeeaaaatttt.

These gag orders were on the verge of becoming routine. No one ever got hurt, and usually, even the aircraft was ok – just limping back to base.

Then I was called up to the office to monitor the phones. I could already feel a different electricity in the air. I asked Top which aircraft, and he said a Chinook. Whew (not an Apache.) Crew’s ok, right, Top? No… they’re not ok.

Stunned.

I understood what he wasn’t saying. Even if injured, you’re “fine” or “you’ll be alright”. Not ok means only one thing.

Still didn’t have names… and while sad at the news, Chinooks are a different unit. We only slightly have a connection to them with a few of our Soldiers working on them. They’re in the hangar next to us, we see them all the time, but… different unit.

In the meantime, the impounds began. All records related to the helicopter are sealed and in this case, locked up in our office since we had a safe. So, locked it all up. And then…

I was asked to provide ALL records of any kind on one of our Soldiers (for obvious reasons, his name won’t be used, but in the spirit of Dear Abby, I’ll call him “Fred”.)

As soon as they asked for Fred’s records, I knew. I knew he was on the chopper, and I knew he was now dead.

So much for this deployment. I’d truly hoped that we’d make it through without a scratch. Why not? We’re mostly Aviation maintenance, and rarely directly exposed to fire. This unit made it through the beginning of the Iraq conflict 100% ok… why not Afghanistan? After all, as they say back home, the war’s been over here for years.

So much for this deployment.

I spent most of my day standing by the phone, coordinating messages. Gag order of course, but in this case, even more so. They shut down the base’s internet completely. Made the office work a bit more difficult to do, but then, I was barely concentrating anyway.

Church was just a place to be that day. Our regular Chaplain was in the rear on leave, and this guest Chaplain… well, I just wasn’t listening that closely. He was up there smiling and going on with his sermon, while over half of the group in the chapel were hurting inside. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but… one of the first rules of public speaking is “Know your audience”.

After awhile, the numbness sets in. After all, the war goes on. Work still has to be done, helicopters repaired, and now… there’s the business of shipping Fred (and the 4 others) home.

This morning, I came to work surprising myself how quickly we just move on. It’s so much more accelerated here. Perhaps because we don’t have the luxury of (forgive the term) “wallowing” in our grief. As the President said (correctly), “I have to get on with my life.”

Then the announcement came. Ramp ceremony – 0820Z. I’ve watched several, but from a distance. Now, we were in it ourselves.

I changed into my best, pressed, starched uniform. SHARP creases. We all cleaned our weapons to remove even a hint of dirt, and they all shined. We removed all the extras that we’ve hung on the weapons and our uniforms until we were picture-perfect Soldiers.

Time came, and we went over to the TLS (Taliban Last Stand) building to form up. Very quickly, we realized this was going to be a big deal. Usually, for a ramp ceremony, it’s just the unit affected, and maybe a few others symbolically. Showing up for this ceremony was everyone affected by our Task Force’s efforts. Units included:
Task Force Storm – all units
The USAF contingent on KAF
173d Airborne Infantry
82nd Airborne Infantry
Special Forces
Task Force 3-1
Afghan National Army
Dutch Army
Romanian Army

All showed up since they have most likely been ferried by Chinooks, or supported by our Task Force. It was an impressive turnout. Easily 1000 troops… probably more.

The Air Force parked a C-130 in the usual Ramp spot. We could see it there…. Waiting. As usual, it was a dedicated flight, no other cargo.

I was selected to be part of the “Quartering Party”… Our group was part of the ceremonial group next to the plane. In plain terms, I’d have a front row view.

We marched over. It took 20 minutes to march all the units over… and to listen to all the commands in different languages.

There was a bagpiper there.

All the brass on post were there.

And in huge formations, were all the troops. Stretched out, behind the aircraft, flanking on both sides… with an aisle formed up in the middle… for the caskets.

We stood there for about 10 minutes awaiting the arrival of the five. Humvees drove up, and it was time.

The whole group came to attention, and as the first casket was brought through, we all went to Present Arms (salute). The way the ceremony works is that it’s mostly non-verbal, and is the military’s way of sending off the fallen Soldier. Only one Soldier is moved at a time, and we all salute him. Everyone salutes. Not a word is said. None needs to be.

I could hear the pallbearers coming… it struck me that their stilted marching step sounded like the ants marching in a Looney Tunes cartoon, but… wasn’t laughing now. In fact, as I looked over the faces of the formation looking back at me, quite a few tears were being choked back as we stood at rigid attention, saluting our fallen comrades.

The first casket passed… one of the pilots judging by the rank of the pallbearers. After the first casket was secured, then the second began.

Each had 8 pallbearers, plus the escort (the Soldier who would escort the casket all the way home to the burial.) Each had a crisp, bright Flag covering the coffin.

The third passed… then the fourth… still, no one moves… while it takes a long time for all of the caskets to process through the formation and be loaded and secured… a little discomfort on our part is… worth it. And let me be clear, literally no one moves. Not a fingertip, not a cough. Nothing. The salutes are held to show the respect and honor deserving these Soldiers.

The fifth casket approaches. I recognize the pallbearers and know that this is Fred. I presume my face now looks like those that I saw looking back.

The casket is secured. I can hear a Chaplain inside speaking – his words remind me of a burial service.

Then, the Colors march away. As they pass, we salute… the effect is like a wave moving through the formation.

And as soon as the Colors leave, it’s over. Our ceremonial group marches on board the aircraft to pay respects… it’s a small aircraft, and the five caskets seem to take up all the room. We pass by… and are back off.

We march back to the TLS building… and then, it’s time for lunch.

And the war (and let’s be clear that that’s what this is) marches on.

A Little Shopping... Then Back to the War

Went to the Bazaar today.

What's the Bazaar? Well, whether as part of the local re-development, or as a way to help GI's part with their cash, the military has set up a local flea market. Each Saturday (with a few exceptions, including after we were attacked and before the election), the Afghans set up shop outside the base. The military posts heavy guards surrounding the area, and then...

... we go shopping. We're bused to the post fence. We walk through a long fence reminiscient of prisons, and poof! We're outside the wire. Surrounded by tanks, but outside. And then, we're shopping.

Now, this is NO place to expect to find great deals. Jewelry is sold - but I didn't see any real stones. The best counterfeit watches you can find. DVD's. Lots of them, most are of movies that aren't even out on DVD yet - they're copies of recordings taken in theaters. Clever, poor quality, and only $1. Soldiers eat these deals up.

Genuine Persian rugs...

And of course, it all comes with the vendor's "Guarantee". Not sure how to cash in on a guarantee like that, but...

It's all about haggling. Which I love. It's a game. You don't really know who's getting the deal. If he starts at $60, and you walk out after paying $25... did you get the great deal??? Or was the vendor happy if you only paid $10? Great fun.

I always work Saturdays, so never got to go... but, since I go on R&R in SEVEN DAYS, I was able to beg off for the chance to go.

Quite the experience... and I got some goodies (genuine, imitation fakes, I'm sure).

She's So Sweet

My wife passed along this little tidbit.

Seems my daughter, M, showed up with her pooh bear backpack, and declared it was time to go.

Go where, she was asked.

"I go to Anananatan to go get my Daddy!!"

(approx.) 35 days to go.

News...

Well, I'd intended to post this yesterday, but... other stuff came up.

Anyway, we had another ramp ceremony today. Could recognize it coming, as the C-17 again was parked in its unusual place, and the base was again quiet. What was surprising was how big it was. Several of the allies marched out. Very large group of Soldiers there for the ceremony.

We have a new policy taking effect. It's a uniform change. The powers that be have decided we need to visibly show our solidarity with the Afghan people. (snort) How best might we do this? Our Soldiers fighting and dying alongside theirs is apparently not a powerful enough image... What to do? What to do?

The solution? We are all adding a lapel pin to our uniform. It will be worn at all times (with notable exceptions) so the Afghans will see that we support them. The pin is a "friendship" style pin with the American and Afghan flags. It'll be worn on the right breast pocket.

The exceptions? Well, we can't wear it outside the wire (you know, where the Afghans are... the ones who are supposed to see the pin.) Since it's a pin, we can't wear it while working on aircraft (meaning it's now a nuisance to pin on, take off, pin on, take off, constantly throughout the day.)

What it comes down to is that we're wearing a new pin to show friendship with the Afghans, but the Afghans will never see it. We'll see it, but since it's going to be an incredible pain in the tuckus, most of us could do without it.

Not sure what this is supposed to achieve. My cynical side suspects there was a warehouse of 10,000 pins that just got unloaded on us. However, let's take TPTB at their word. In a briefing the other day, we were told how the Taliban and al-Qaeda are making the locals cooperate with them and threaten to kill/rape/maim/kidnap (these guys are just a cornucopia of options) anyone cooperating with the Americans. I can see the Afghans now... "Whom should I help? The Taliban are threatening to kill my sons and rape my wife and daughter... but... the Americans... they're wearing such beautiful pins (or so I hear). I think I'll help the Americans!"

A buddy and I were talking the other night, and I said something that he said, "That's good... write that down." Well, thank you... What I said was, "I remember studying how we used to fight wars to win... now we seem to fight to please."

Whether it's wearing a pin (can't resist - which pinhead came up with that?), or asking "Mother-may-I?" before we defend our country, or tying our military's hands behind its back so we don't offend anyone with the brutality of war... we don't fight to win. We fight to please someone. What a ridiculous way to do it.

Common variation of a theme heard around post - "If only they let us fight the way we could..." The American military has an awesome firepower... but we often hamper it with restrictions and rules. This is quite counterproductive, especially against enemies who have no such rules.

The enemy knows we follow these rules, and use it to their advantage. They know we don't leave anyone behind on the battlefield... so, they stage a small attack, wait for the Medevacs, and fire at them (Geneva Convention, Newsweek?). They know we won't attack civilians, so they hide amongst them. They know we won't attack mosques, so they hide in there.

What a stupid way to fight a war.

What really tears at me are the stories I hear... from people who are "reliable sources" and know what's what. I wish I could share them... can't. Not now, but... maybe one day. OPSEC gets in the way, but... truly tragic. When "fighting to please" replaces "fighting to win"... you neither win nor please.

Something I wrote...

In church today... after we started off with the announcement of four more Soldiers dying.

I felt suddenly moved to start writing. What follows flowed into me... there's a tune with it in my head, but then... I'm not great at writing tunes.

Part of this springs from the recent Cindy Sheehan events, and of course, a lot of the other protests...

So, here it is.

"Untitled - for now"

The ribbon has faded now.
A tattered flag hangs with shame.
And your voice shouts out, “How
Have we now lost our aim?”

They say we support our troops,
But we’ve got to bring them back.
Their mission is… a colossal “Oops!”
Give ‘em the safety they now lack.

But what you call our support
Means you’re wishing us to fail:
To not defend America – our Fort!
To tuck twixt our legs our tail.

Do you want it to be for naught?
Do you want them all to win?
Give them the victory they sought?
Have our buildings fall again?

We volunteered to stand on this wall.
To guard against all our foes.
We know that some will tragically fall…
Stopping that which evil sows.

So it comes to this, that we ask –
Please, support us now all the way.
Fight the fight, finish the task…
R’mber, God Bless the USA!

Soldiers' Deaths in Afghanistan

2 earlier in the week... 4 today. Learned about the 4 while in church... it'd just happened.

Yes, all from our post.

Sad day.

Neat Twist of Fate

Yesterday, we became a full room again. One of my roomies returned from a 45 day stint at a FOB.

The other returned from leave.

Was going to be all crowded again.

But wait! Up in the sky... is it a mosquito? Is it a helicopter? No, it's Twist-of-Fate Man!

All THREE of my roomies have been assigned to night shift.

Translation = I'll never see them.

Effectively gives me a single room, with 1/4 of the space. Should be like this for a few weeks. Such a tragedy.

Nice moon out tonight.

Me on a Chinook

I was running around taking pictures of our area for a "Travel Brochure" we're putting together for the unit that'll replace us.

Well, in the process, I climbed up on top of a Chinook.

Great view from up there. Never thought I'd get the chance to be up on top of one. Not my bird, no reason to.

Anyway, while I'm up there, one of the civilian contractors comes up, asking if I was with "Stars and Stripes". HA! Well, since he was there, I got a picture...

Having fun...

The Ramp Ceremony

Today had an unusual beginning.

We started our shift @ 0200Z, as always. Did a minor servicing, and came back to the office. Noticed a C-17 parked oddly nearby, but didn't think more of it. Then noticed a note saying no APU's or AGPU's (Aircraft Ground Power Unit - basically a small jet engine in a trailer that powers aircraft for us - pretty cool) could be used between 0300 - 0430Z. Odd.

Later, around 0330Z, we went to go inventory our ammo area (right next to where the C-17 was parked).

Then we saw it. A Ramp Ceremony.

A Ramp Ceremony is when they load a fallen Soldier onto the aircraft for the ride home. I have no pictures of this, so I'll try to convey the scene.

The Soldier's unit forms up at the rear of the cargo aircraft. The colors are present. It's a split formation, flanking both sides, with a gap in the middle.

A Humvee pulls up, and the Honor Guard removes the flag-draped casket. It is then marched to the aircraft. The formation comes to attention, and salutes.

The casket is loaded. There is a short moment of silence, and then the formation marches off. The Soldier is going home.


Some notes about this particular one. Our airfield is busy. REGULARLY busy. Especially this time of day. There was no activity. Nothing. I could hear sounds from miles away, and I was mere feet from the runway. The base had managed to arrange for no activity, no loud noises (no firing range, no EOD explosions, no maintenance), and no aircraft for this Soldier's departure.

Another sad note. I saw the uniforms they were wearing. They were the Army's new ACU's, which are quite different from the tan ones you've seen on TV and I've been wearing. The only unit on base wearing those right now is the unit (unnamed for OPSEC) that just arrived. This Soldier had just gotten here. Sad.

That was the start of our day. We all came to a stop, and watched silently, standing, as the Soldier was loaded onto his flight home.

Hooah.

Thunderstorms

Supposedly were in our weather forecasts. uh-huh. It HAS been very dusty lately. Sometimes hard to see the end of the flightline. Dust just gets everywhere.

Lost our water today. Never know when that's going to happen. I keep waiting to be caught in the shower.

Comfortable routine going. OPTEMPO is going to be highly increased for the next six weeks as the elections approach. Seems there are some people in this land who don't want democracy and apple pie. While I prefer pecan pie myself, I don't see what the problem is...

Anyway, the bad guys are getting more aggressive.

Finally getting over my cold.

Trying to keep straight which day it is sometimes...

Good (and under-reported) News from Afghanistan

This is all compiled by an Australian blogger. Think it's a worthwhile read as I doubt you'll hear these stories anywhere else...

http://www.opinionjournal.com/extra/?id=110007073