This is not a drill

It’s February, it’s raining, and I’m inside the one-month mark. Partly, it’s hard to believe that I’m actually counting down days now, instead of weeks or months. But if ever a year felt longer than the sum of its days, this was it, so the fact that February has finally decided to show up has left me more relieved than thrilled.

Just before the rain...

It’s been a month or so since my last post, so first a recap of what’s been going on.

As I’ve written before, the best part of my job is that I have a group of security Marines that I train and employ from time to time. They aren't security Marines by MOS (just as my MOS is not AT/FP - no such MOS in fact), but that just means I have a clean slate to work with, a group of comm, logistics, supply, law, etc. Marines who enjoy the opportunity to get out of their shops and do some quasi-real Marine stuff a few times a month.

Practicing clearing rooms and buildings

Trigger-puller

Consummate Professionals

One morning last month I got the “this is not a drill” call. In about 3 minutes I’d notified the command deck and called up the SRT (sector response team). They were ready to go much faster than expected or required, and we spent most of the day dealing with the security issue, performing missions we’d rehearsed and some we’d never anticipated. Despite the rumors, contradictions and miscommunications (fog of war, I guess), the Marines performed beyond anyone’s expectations. As always, I obviously can’t share details but I can say that everything turned out fine and everyone is safe.

During the incident

Motivators

In other news, on 1 Feb we had our post office day, and I sent home (well actually to you BK) two foot lockers full of stuff I don’t need, didn’t know I had and probably won’t keep. But it was worth it, just for the symbolism. I’ll send home at least 1 more foot locker (where did I keep all this stuff??), and travel home with the bare minimum.

Aside from all that, the usual ongoing projects and the constant integration of new units (the MEU is here as you may have read), the main focus has been preparing for turnover. Ultimately, the success of the AT/FP program over the next year will be up to our replacements, but we’ve worked hard to build it up and we’re trying to ensure that it endures and grows once we’re gone.

Also I’ve been back in the DASC lately, and after working off the rust – controlling is an intensive and highly perishable skill – I should finally be earning my HD (helicopter director) qualification in the next week or two. TAD (tactical air, i.e. fixed wing) will have to wait for exercises back home.

So between all that and trying to shed the winter flubber that I’ve put on courtesy of the long tons of junk food you American-types sent us over the holidays, my days have been pretty full. Soon, soon, I’ll get home to my 96, my “warrior transition week” and soon after, my 30 days of post-deployment leave, plans for which I’ll have to tell you about in a future post.

Oh yeah, and I got to play with tanks.

Happy New Year

Hope you enjoyed my last post (rant), or at least weren’t scared away by it.  Needed to get that out of my system. 

It is 2011 and this calls for celebration.  Alas, celebration has been banned by the MST (Morale Suppression Team) so instead I’m posting this blog…post.  Post-posting this post I will post a post-post post, just so I can say I’ve done it. 

My donut says I have only some 10 weeks left in this paradise (which as you can see is putting strains on my sanity), depending on which end date I use for calculation. 

 

Now that New Year’s is behind us, the milestones will (hopefully) start to come quickly:

• Post office day, when we send home (home!) large boxes of assorted accumulated arbitrary crap at bulk rates
• WTB – warrior transition brief – when we are reminded not to go nuts on returning home and are briefed on such subjects as “transitional intimacy” (first base, second base…)
• The day my replacement gets here
• The day after that day, when I drop my pack so violently it registers on the Richter scale Correction: I would never drop my pack
• And of course the day I leave Afghanistan, the day I leave theater, the day I land in Miramar, the day I enjoy my first long, scalding hot, damn-the-water-bill, uninterrupted shower since R&R.
• The day I overdose on all of House, Season 7 in one glorious, gluttonous binge.

I owe you pictures of my promotion to 1stLt, a feat only achieved by Marine 2ndLts who have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt their ability to spell their own names (minimum 75% accuracy required).  Figuring I’d never get the chance again, I had myself sworn in and pinned on by the MAW CG (commanding general), since I’m a member of his staff.   

 I, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath...uh, what sir?

 Reading the warrant

 BGen O and Lt M pinning me on

Lastly, I saw this video (link fixed) this morning, put out by our public affairs office.  Nice little wrap-up of the year in Helmand.  I remember all these milestones and was present at several of the shots - you can see me in one, saluting the colors. 

  

1stLt - no more excuses

Gesundheit

Yesterday, I sneezed. Well to be accurate it was early this morning. Also, it wasn’t really a sneeze, it was one of those almost-sneezes. A non-sneeze. A snooze. Still, it was the culmination of a monumentally joyous experience. Let me tell you all about it.

I’ve been generally aware of the eventual need to sneeze for most of my time out here. I first got that pre-sneeze tingle several months ago. I knew it was coming, and I knew it was going to be big - one of those truly messy, mucus-rich, high G-force, double-barrel sneezes.

This one was going to require a tissue.

However, getting a tissue in Afghanistan is not as easy as you might think. I talked to our SMEs (subject matter experts), got estimates on the amount of tissue I would need to mitigate the effects of my sneeze and when I could expect final tissue turnover given an X-man working party working Y-hours a day for Z-days (and z-nights), looked up the tissue man-hour engineering utilization ratio chart in Field Manual Lima, briefed representatives from each nose-hair on the requirement, intent and ultimate disposition of the tissue, made countless adjustments, filled out the requisition forms, crafted a persuasive letter of justification, outlined the statement of work, staffed it all (in my enthusiasm, I failed to cross all my i’s and dot my t’s and had to redo and resubmit the paperwork), made my case in front of the Bodily-fluid Acceleration Review Forum, received funding approval from the BARF, requested delivery of the tissue-building materials, found out the on-hand materials were…not, resubmitted the tissue request and supporting paperwork for contracting, awaited sourcing of the tissue contract, took a quick but relaxing (relatively) break to herd some cats, provided the tissue specifications, escorted the tissue delivery personnel to the work site (my upper lip), drafted a FRAG-O to man the tissue working party, negotiated with adjacent units on the sourcing of the tissue working party personnel, deconflicted the tissue working party with a simultaneous but unrelated toilet-paper planning group, coordinated transportation, food and heavy equipment (forklifts, trucks, pneumatic fluffer, etc.) for the off-loading and placement of the tissue materials, ensured all tissue working party safety requirements were met and equipment was provided (gloves, eye protection, ear protection, throat protection, groin protection, soul protection, flak, kevlar, water source, boots), provided the morning brief on safe tissue handling, filled out an operational risk management matrix for the tissue employment, managed the timing and placement of the tissue with all stake-holders (the nose being the ultimate arbiter), took another quick (relatively) break to carve a life-sized stone sculpture of Joseph Heller using nothing but a feather and a steely glare, maintained accountability of the tissue working party, checked daily on the status of the tissue working party, submitted a nightly situation report on the progress of the tissue working party, synchronized my right hand with my left (ambidextrously resolving any disputes between them), adroitly modified the tissue plans and diagrams to accommodate ever-changing tissue-utilization requirements, and when the tissue was finally in place…

…well, you know, sometimes you think you need to sneeze, but it passes.

Lucky for me. This morning I got an e-mail that key parts of the tissue were emplaced too far to the west, obstructing my left ear canal.

Ah well.  Merry Christmas.

It's cold in the desert

At dawn it’s now in the mid-20’s here in central Helmand, up to the 50’s during the day.  In the evening the sun sinks below the horizon as you watch, with the temperature falling just as rapidly and the intense reds and oranges reflecting off the low-hanging dusty haze. 

1000 splendid words

But despite the cold it doesn’t feel like winter – no frozen puddles (because no water lying around), no frost on the windows in the morning (well, no windows anywhere either except on vehicles), no clouds in the sky.  Some days if you just walk around with your head level, it feels as dingy and overcast (from the gray dust) as a cloudy winter day back home, but if you remember to look straight up, above the dust, you find the sky is still a brilliant blue.  It’s odd.

Right now it’s about an hour after sunset, with just a sliver of a moon that’s about to set – we’re just exiting the low-light period of the month.  One way I find myself marking the passage of time is the moon phases, not because I’m in the desert and reverting to some nomadic view of time, but because each morning I sit in on a long powerpoint brief where one of the slides deals with lunar data.  Every time we hit low light it means another half a month has gone by, and when we hit full high light again, same thing.

It’s been an interesting week or so. 

On Friday I took a day trip to a small FOB (forward operating base).  I was up around 0330 for a dawn flight.   

Waiting for our flight at dawn

Our ride out was on a CH-53D.  They say about this aging bird that if it’s not leaking, it’s empty.  Ours was not empty, as evidenced by large grease stains on my cammies.  

 

CH-53D

It was a quick flight.  We landed in a rather large LZ and I spent the morning checking out the FOB’s security.  Wish I should share more on that but obviously I can’t.  Met some interesting Afghans, saw some interesting sites, had lunch.  Spent the afternoon laying in the sunlight in a gravel clearing, reading a book on my iPod touch.  (Have I mentioned that was my best investment before coming out here?)    

Striking a pose

The flight back was around sunset on a CH-53E, obviously a newer version of the same aircraft.  Two easy ways to tell the D and the E apart from afar (because you know you want to) are that the E has a refueling boom and a canted tail rotor.  The most enjoyable difference is that the E has much more powerful engines.  My first helicopter ride, way back in OCS, was on a 53E and that pilot maneuvered in ways that you’d never expect from what is essentially a large flying bus.  It was exhilarating.   

CH-53E

 Heading "home"

The past eight days have, of course, also been Hanukkah.  I believe I managed to light the candles every night – except that Friday now that I think of it.  We had a handful of Jewish service members here and down at another base where I went from Sunday to Tuesday.  On that trip I was traveling with the head chaplain for all of 3d MAW (Third Marine Aircraft Wing), who is a Rabbi here visiting for the holiday.  It’s kind of amazing to have a Rabbi in that position – he’s a Navy Captain (one rank below an Admiral), and a MAW is a division-level unit.  Rabbi E is a very entertaining guy who had clearly done this once or twice before, and we got along well.  

Jewish mafia

Naturally, during the trip I double-dipped to get some AT/FP work done, but Gunny and I managed to mostly take it easy.  Since Tuesday things have been largely back to normal.  Tomorrow night we’ll have Shabbat services with the Rabbi, and he leaves shortly after that.  On Sunday it will be exactly two years since my commissioning, and I’ll pin on 1stLt.  I’ll be sure to post some pictures. 

In fact, I cannot believe it’s already December.  I’ve been out here since March, and I can tell you that in June or July, December seemed like an illusion – something that would never come to be.  Pretty soon it will be New Year’s, and I’m sure you know what the next milestone after that is…that’s right: pitchers and catchers report to spring training. 

Well that’s all I’ve got.  Some potentially exciting things on tap in the next few weeks, so wish me luck.

Another day at the office

The best holiday

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday.  I'm not really sure why.  The food's great, but my mom's Passover meals are better (and without even the benefit of bread!).  And it's patriotic, being an American holiday, but the 4th of July is more so.  It's got a good ideal behind it, but so do most holidays.  And growing up it was not one of the holidays that brought the family together, any more than any other.  Again, that would probably be Passover.  I guess it just combines all my favorite things about holidays into one...though without gifts.  

So it's Thanksgiving.  It hasn't felt like it today - just another work day.  It's also two weeks since my last post, but that's ok - I have a doctor's note.

First to get you caught up on the last two weeks.  The Kandahar visit was moderately productive, I guess.  A few days after we got back came Operation Feeding Freedom, known informally as Operation Outback.  It was a great treat, complete with 12 oz steaks, Bloomin Onions, incredible rolls, some kind of vegetable ravioli thing and cheesecake.  Alas, no Foster's.  As promised, they didn't run out of anything.  I've never had any special feelings toward Outback one way or the other but after this I'll definitely be eating there more once I get back to the states.  That night there was also some country singer who performed on base, I forget her name, an American Idol runner-up or some such.

After that things settled down to normal until Saturday when I started getting sick.  Spent Sunday and Monday and most of Tuesday in bed - just a cold, nothing serious, but enough to get me thinking about what it must have been like for the Marines on Iwo or Guadalcanal, coming down with Malaria and spending weeks or months in a crappy cot (if that), under a crappy tent (if that), with nothing to do, no laptop with DVDs to keep them occupied or take their mind off their misery.  In this war, if you come down with anything serious (including Malaria), you're just medevac'd out of theater and are probably home within a week.  Don't get me wrong, Marines (and other troops) still sacrifice plenty, even setting aside the unevolved bloodiness and loneliness of war, but we have it exponentially better than those before us ever did.

Amazing how a mild case of the sniffles is enough to get me on my soapbox.  Anyway, that's why I didn't post anything on Sunday, which is otherwise my goal.  I'm feeling better today and am going to try to PT later today for the first time in six days.  Ridiculous.

Today, the chow halls have Thanksgiving food for lunch and dinner, and it is good.  Pineapple ham (or whatever), turkey, beef, stuffing (dressin' for you southerners), sweet potato casserole, corn, gravy and pecan pie.  I had a light lunch of about 3000 calories and will go back later for a heavier dinner.  I don't think I've had a Thanksgiving lunch since I was in high school in Alabama.

And now for a Thanksgiving list: ten things I'm grateful for, in no particular order.

• All the e-mails, FB messages, etc. that expressed some variant of "thanks for serving."  You're welcome.  My part is really pretty small and painless as you already know.  And in general I'm grateful for the support of all my friends and family these last 8 months, which has made all the difference.
• Sweet potato casserole
• EOD - explosive ordnance disposal, aka bomb squad.  You think you know what kind of risks these guys face by the very nature of the job, but you don't.  Trust me, you don't even know the half of it.
• Cpl Yale and LCpl Haerter, and also LtGen Kelly (the speaker) and his son, 2ndLt Kelly, whom I graduated OCS with and who died earlier this month in Sangin.  This part could easily become its own list.
• My brother's IDF service.  
• An Israeli organization I knew a little about but have learned much more about lately called Save A Child's Heart, in which both my middle brother and his wife are involved.
• Derek Jeter.  It's not entirely rational, it's not even a little homosexual, it just is what it is. Yanks need to stop screwing around and resign him already.
• An organization called Project MOT, which sends care packages to Jewish service members.
• Grass.  Not the kind you smoke.
• HL

Well that's all I've got.  I better run if I'm going to work off today's lunch and dinner.  Enjoy the holiday and stay warm.

I'm thankful I don't have to do that anymore.

 

Three-thirty thoughts

So what am I thinking at oh-dark thirty in the morning, trying (and failing) to sleep in a large "transient" tent at Kandahar airfield?

• I hate the guy who was crinkling his little potato chips package so loudly he woke me up an hour ago.  Don't worry, I told him.
   
• Why on earth would anyone care what I’m thinking at 0330 anyway?  Don’t worry, I’m still going to tell you.
   
• There are jets taking off every few minutes here, 24/7.  I first got hooked on the roar of jet engines going to air shows as a kid.  It is still one of my favorite sounds in the world.
   
• I will never again take for granted high speed internet.
   
• It was nice chatting with my friend PT today.
   
• Speaking of PT, I had a great PT session earlier – 35 minute run in boots and utes, must have been about four miles.  I quit running in green on green around early August – didn’t seem to be a very realistic form of combat conditioning.  My joints are occasionally less than pleased, but my resting heart rate is currently…about 48 beats per minute. 
   
• It’s Veteran’s day, or just was.  As I told PT earlier, it’s hard to think of myself as a future vet – I just don’t have the hat, vest and pin collection to pull it off (yet).  What else do I think about Veteran’s day?  Well as a Marine I’ve learned a lot about what other Marines went through, and out here where I have a bed, a good pair of boots and global connectivity, that’s pretty much always on my mind.  Also, I think we as Americans have moved significantly in the right direction in the way we think about “the troops” and “the vets” as compared to the dark days of Vietnam and “baby killers.”  That’s a comforting thought, isn’t it, at a time when so much seems to be moving in the wrong direction…
   
• If you aren’t just swept away by Chopin, then I don’t know what’s wrong with you.  I miss my piano terribly.  I also play it terribly, and especially will after a year of not touching one, so that’s nice and symmetrical.
   
• I learned today that when glass breaks, the cracks move at over 3000 mph.  Interesting.  But what gets me is that cracks aren’t things…they’re where things (e.g. glass) stop being.  So it’s nothingness expanding at 3000 mph.  Just let that one twist around in your brain for a bit.  Hurts, huh.

Well that’s about it really.  Looks like about 9 thoughts – a respectable number given the time of night.  10 would be presumptuous, perhaps even arrogant; 8 and I would have had to leave out the glass-cracking thing.  So 9 it is.

Good night.

Happy birthday

It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m going to try to get back into posting something on here weekly, if only quickly to let you know that I’m still OK.  I’ll be doing a little traveling over the next month or so (nothing to worry about) but I should be able to post at least that often.

For now, it’s been a while since I described what things are like here, which I think is the one thing I can offer you, my fanatically loyal reader(s?), that you might not get somewhere else.

Some things never change of course – it’s always dusty.  But at least it’s not hot, in fact it’s getting to feel quite cool.  At dawn it’s in the low 50’s or high 40’s, and in the day it gets up to the 60’s or 70’s.  Yesterday was a gorgeous day, and even the sunset was amazing since we had some clouds.  In fact it actually rained here one night last week – first precipitation since April.  Winter in this part of the country is mostly a cold, rainy season, though it will drop below freezing at night here and there.  Further north even a little bit, where there’s some pretty fierce fighting going on, will be colder and more miserable, so keep those guys in your thoughts and treat them well when they get home. 

As I write this the sun (and the temperature) is going down.  Per usual, the ranges are providing an appropriately martial sound-track for my thoughts – impressive booms and crunches from artillery and mortars with shockwaves you can feel in your ribcage; the rattle of all caliber of machine guns, a sound unmatched in its ability to motivate; the muffled thump of grenades – probably the 40mm variety, not the more commonly known hand-grenades but who knows. 

At night it’s really an impressive show, between the tracers, the explosions and the battlefield illumination that reveals hidden clouds of smoke and dust.  And of course, at all times of the day or night, one of the world’s busiest airfields lies just a few clicks away on the British side of the base.  I don’t think anyone even notices anymore the almost constant, if usually distant, thumping of rotor blades and the occasional roar of some behemoth of a cargo plane landing.

Similarly, at work the constant flow of intel has resolved into a sort of background hum.  I’ve gotten good at picking out what’s relevant to my work, and I skim through the rest quickly, somehow avoiding thinking too much about what incredibly (potentially) dangerous information is contained when it doesn’t pertain to me.  (BOOM!)  I can only assume – and it’s a safe assumption I think – that the Marines to whom that info is relevant are doing the same thing.  

Well it’s getting late and I have to run.  Literally.

Wish me a happy birthday.

 November 10, 1775