Bagpipes

Every now and then there are moments that you just have to stop look around and think, is this really happening? 

Tonight was clear and crisp. The moon hung low and the sky was full of stars. It was the kind of night you wish you were spending in front of a campfire with friends. The French camp that I am living on right now is blacked out. This means there are no lights outside. It's beyond dark here. It is also extremely quite, unlike my usual room that I am convinced is the loudest place on Earth. Just to low row of generators in the background is all the noise you hear out here. But tonight as I prepared the LZ for the aircraft coming in and out for the missions going on in the valleys below tonight I heard what I thought was music coming from someones room. As I walked further down the LZ marking the landing spots I realized it was not a stereo but it was some on the FOB in the dark doing a pretty good job of playing the bagpipes. This is something I had never heard before and was kind of shocked to hear at first.

But then I stood there for a minute and just enjoyed the moment. A nice night, bagpipes playing in the background, cold air and all.

What Oatmeal?

So I was going to type this letter to my good friends to thank then for the care package. But I figured I would share it with everyone...

The Byrds-

So I'm not sure if you all had heard, but I went from my American base in Afghanistan to a French base... In Afghanistan. So here I am, not speaking a word of French, as the only American in the command post. Its pretty crazy. I am running all the aviation stuff for the French since they cant do it alone. I get to eat at a French DFAC, with French Chef's and we take coffee breaks about 5 times a day it seems. I really don't have many complaints. The espresso machine was broken yesterday so that was pretty bad I guess. The hours are long but I enjoy the work. I have nothing to go back to in my room since the Blackhawk crewchief literally through my Assault Pack off the aircraft. The second I saw it happen I knew my laptop was toast. It was completely smashed. One more reason why I hate Blackhawks.

All this brings my to the next part of this saga. So today two Apaches arrived and told me they had my mail. Which turned out to be a package from you two. This made my freaking day. The French don't really snack and 90% of their food is not what I would consider healthy. So I was thrilled to get a but of good old "Merican" food. When I got this package of the aircraft I was incredibly busy. One of my jobs is pretty much air traffic control for all the helicopters in and out of here. So I set my box to the side and finished getting all the flights and people in and out. When things calmed down I went down to get my box only to discover it was opened and empty except for the letter from you all. Needless to say, I was pissed and terribly confused as to who would have done this. I looked around and about 20 yards away was a couple of locals (Afghans) who were hired to work on the gravel roads of the FOB were trying not to make eye contact. There was a empty RedBull can nearby and the young one on a steam roller was eating something. I went over there to see what was going on and to my surprise he is eating a Nature Valley Granola Bar. Well, they dont sell those at the local market, i do know that. I ask him if he took my stuff and he shrugs, "like oh, I dont understand but I am pretty sure you want to kick my ass...." I make a few more gestures to my empty box and him and he points to his stomach like, "yeah I ate it and it was awesome, tell them thanks." At this point my blood was boiling, and I slapped the granola bar out of his hand. As I did that I noticed something the engine compartment to the steam roller. It was Quaker freaking Oatmeal. I know, that didn't just appear there, and I have yet to see an oatmeal powered car! I point and yell at him and he just looks like, "what oatmeal?"

I quickly remove him from his seat on the roller, very much against his will, and open the engine compartment, and to my surprise its packed with granola bars, various trail mixes, Rebull, and other goodies. I retrieve all my stuff back from this dirty lil haj and re pack my box. He keeps looking at me and motioning like he is hungry and wants some of the stuff. I tell him a few things in English that I am sure he doesn't understand, all of which is probably for the better. He motions again like he is hungry and wants my stuff that he stole, and since it is the season of giving I pick the granola bar up off the ground that I previously slapped out of his hands, and give it back to him. He smiles and takes a bite.

I am still really pissed about it, but I guess I will let it go. A few years ago and in a different country it would have ended badly for this guy. I suppose I have grown out of that phase. Having a son also changes things, he is the first thing I think of any time I do something. I think, "how is this going to affect him if I do/don't do it". The thought also crosses my mind with these people, they have kids, like mine, but dirtier, that need to eat and need warm clothes. This guy has a job, that pays him so he can provide for his kids, and probably fund terrorism. If I were to have thrown him off the FOB then there is no telling if he would one day show back up with a car full of explosives.

Thank you all so much for everything that you all have done. I hope you all are doing well, and I will be thinking about you all through the holidays, while i sip cappuccinos with the French.

I have my stuff. He has a job. Win.

JAKE

It Does a Body Good

To catch you up on what all has gone on will not take long. The reason for that is the fact that not a lot has gone on. Things have been rather quite around here for the most part. My life has become what I can only describe as dreadfully boring, to the point that I am miserable. I like deploying, and I like being in the Army. What I do not like is deploying away from my family and doing nothing in the Army.  It’s a waste of time, and the past several weeks have been just that, a waste of time.

Politics, poor policies, and terrible leadership are mostly to blame. You can also throw is poor personnel and resource management as well. Obviously I am frustrated with the way this whole thing is going right now. My initial impression of deployed aviation is that it’s nothing but spoiled princesses. It makes me sick and regret my decision to join such a group. I don’t want to be seen as a diva.

But aviation definitely has that stereotype.

This however is only a first impression, and while first impressions due last, I am going to see it through in hopes that things will improve. So I will sit and wait until then I suppose.

My new kicks

I have been spending my time doing several things to help pass the time. I visit Green Beans Coffee House regularly these days and don’t miss to many meals. The sitting combined with the abundance of food has made me very concerned about my fitness. This has resulted in a pretty good workout routine that I have begun. We have a small little gym that is right by our B-huts. It’s nothing to amazing but it has the basics and if you work hard enough you can get a good workout in. I have been running a lot as well. As mentioned in one of my previous post, this place has a lot of rocks. My normal running shoes were always getting rocks stuck in them so I decided to purchase some new shoes. I chose trail shoes, and went with a minimalist style. This is my first experience with minimalist shoes and so far I really do like them. It has taken awhile to get use to and my calves are smoked after even a short run, but I am beginning to add more and more distance to my runs and hope to be back to running 20 miles a week. This has all given me a goal to work towards and helped keep my mind off the other BS that continues to play out here.

Lots of fun here….But things may be changing soon. 

My Wife's Nice Pink Box

I must begin by saying thank you to all of you that have sent care packages. They have all been so great. I have enough food and snack to make it through the winter I believe. You all have really gone above and beyond what I ever imagined. Getting mail over here is one of the best ways to end a day. It has been great to hear from you all as well.

It's hard to overlook a package from her. 

On a side note. You are all unleashing havoc on my efforts to get in shape. The candy bars, the little German cherry candy things. Your killing my diet, but I love you for it. It keeps my happy which is actually really hard over here. My nickname has become "Angry Jake". The candy has helped keep this under control.

Thank you all for the support you have shown. It truly has been great.

And we are back....

Sorry for the gap in late-breaking, and up to the minute coverage of my rather dull life over here. We were using the internet contract from the unit that was here before us, and at the end of October it expired. When it did expire we were still waiting on ours to get here. It did, and now we have the internet in our rooms again.

This is all great but there is upcoming news that could slow the whole posting/writing process again through the holidays. As soon as I know more I will pass it along.

But do not worry, I am now, and always will be in good hands. My own.

Welcome To The Show

So I believe we all know what I do and why I am here. It's an innate part of my job. It's necessary. For the guys on the ground to get back home to their kids, their wives, and families; we must support them. Whether that is with a looming presence overhead or a Hellfire missle hurling towards the bad guys.

In this case it was with a Hellfire, and in this case it was my first flight in country.

We had been on shift for a few hours and did not expect to get a call to launch in support of anything. We intended to take off and do a little show and tell flight over the battlefield. Check out a few hot-spots, get the lay of the land. As we sat there, just before lunch, we received a call on the "Bat Phone". There were Troops In Contact, known as a "TIC". We needed to launch.  It was a long haul up there, we needed to go and go now before it was to late for these guys, before the "TIC went cold". Within minutes we were suited up and crawling in the aircraft. A few radio calls later we departed the airfield en route to the action.

You sit and wait. Wait and wait. You get comfortable and then the phone rings. Within seconds you are grabbing the things you need and rushing out to the aircraft. You don't get the full picture from the phone call just a location an a rough idea of the situation. No end-state or details. That is all sent over the radio while you are headed off and even then you never really get the full picture until you arrive.

We arrived in relief of two other aircraft that had been in the fight for the better part of the day. They informed us of who we are working for and we began a "Battle Hand Over" or "BHO". We identified the friendly locations and started looking for the bad guys. The ground commander informed us that they were taking effective fire from multiple locations, from all around, from different ridgelines, from caves, from homes, from everywhere. The mountains are erupting with gunfire and RPG's at this point.

Now, try to imagine this for me if you can. Think Colorado, but less trees. There is a valley with a small river running through it. Perpendicular to that river is a ridge line that slowly descends down toward the river off of the major mountain ridge. This major ridge line also happens to be the border with Pakistan. So while Sarah Palin's dumb ass may be able to see Russia from her backdoor' these boys are getting shot at from Pakistan as they look out theirs.

Following along?

As this smaller ridge line that is perpendicular to the river descends towards the river there are two peaks along it. Given the nature of the fine upstanding men that fight in this area, these two peaks are known as "Left Tit and Right Tit". Help with the mental image at all? So on the right tit, furthest from the river, is a small out post, "OP", and on the left tit is a cell phone tower and another strong point that our soldiers use.  Between the two peaks is a low area known as a "saddle", kinda like a cleavage area... This saddle will be referenced later.

So now that you have a general idea of this terrain, the patrol base and the fighting position are under attack. A complex, and very close attack. As we start to work the area and hunt, the guys that are attacking have our guys under heavy fire and they are having to throw hand grenades over the out post walls to keep the insurgents back. They are even having to pop off Claymore mines to blast them back. They are riding a very fine line and could be over run at any moment. It's rather intense for all parties involved at this point. These mountains are riddled with caves and that's where they, the bad guys, hide. Making it so much harder to find them. But that's the nature of this fight; they shoot, they hide, they repeat.  It is not easy. If it was we would have been out of here by now.

As we are relaying targets to the ground commander he calls us with an urgent request. You could hear the fire fight in the background and the adrenaline in his voice. They were pinned and taking fire from 3 fighting age males with small arms weapons and RPG's just a few hundred meters from the base. Unable to maneuver his men he request a Hellfire strike, a very close one at that. What is referred to as "Danger Close" and not something anyone likes doing. As we began to look for the three targets we set up for what would be our run inbound. The situation was now very serious. They were close to the base, in a position of advantage, hiding in the large rocks that rested in the saddle between the two peaks.

Now remember, this was my first flight on an actual combat mission. I had been very well trained for this, but nothing really prepares you for the real thing. I wasn't just tossed in the deep end and told to swim. I was dropped off in the middle of the fucking ocean.

We turned inbound, and as we do I breakout the fighting position of the 3 attackers. They were glowing white hot in the thermal sights. As they see us head towards them they began to attempt to hide in the cracks of the surrounding boulders. It was to late for them, by this point I had sent a Hellfire missile off the rail and it was screaming towards them. I watched my missile "time of flight" ticker count down and it's near perfect splash on target as the ticker hit zero. We turned outbound and immediately prepared for the next turn inbound.

It is not needed. The commander on the ground reports that they are no longer receiving fire from that location. We silenced it. He then begins to direct us to the next target. The fight continues, never pausing for a split second. As we began the hunt for the next targets we get word to move back. They are getting ready to bring in the big guns. The really big guns.

We move back to overwatch the area and await what the ground commander described as, "that they are about to be smited by the hand of God and that they don't even know it" that it's "going to be like Tropic Thunder on their asses". Within seconds the entire face of the opposing ridge line explodes. It was pummeled with HIMAR missiles. You could feel the shock wave through the aircraft even at a good distance away. Impressive is an understatement for what we had just witnessed.

As dusk came the area began to get quite. A few parting volleys of fire from both sides and darkness set in and the fighters retreated to their holes to nurse their wounds.

Our guys were able to stand up, dust themselves off and get ready to do it all again the next day. They did come at them again the next day, even harder, and we were launched again in support. This time things did not go as well for our brothers as I wrote about in an earlier post. But this night in-particular there were only a few minor injuries that they were able to handle. The guys on the ground fought their asses off for that little piece of land and for each other.

We were soon relieved by another team that would continue to support them throughout the night. It was time for us to head home and call it a night. Only after hours of debriefs, paperwork, and being arm-chaired quarterbacked by our own we could actually call it a night. It has become part of the job sadly, you engage the enemy, and you just expect to be grilled and examined when you get back. On this engagement we knew that we did right, we were just in our actions and I was able to sleep just fine that night knowing that I did my job and hopefully saved those guys. Pretty intense day, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love it.

"and when the record skips... you're mine..."   -Thursday

NSTR

Nothing Substantial To Report. That is exactly whats going on here. Nothing. The higher elevations have begun to get snow and the temperatures are now getting under 40 at night. Much like ducks, when the bad guys get that sense that cold weather is coming and the passes are going to freeze up they begin their migration back to Pakistan or where ever they came from. They head home to heal their wounds and attempt to recruit others while they await the thawing of the passes and the beginning of the next fighting season. For the most part things really do slow down over here during the winter. I don't really blame them. It can get pretty cold here.

So since there is not much going on in the war over here, I decided I will start to fill you in a little on what life is like around here. So here we go...

Rocks. That is what we will start with. Everywhere you look around this place there are rocks, gravel, and more rocks. When it rains there is very little to almost no mud. Why? Because there is no dirt, just rocks. There is a lot that is now paved but the vast majority of the time you spend walking to places is on rocks. You take for granted being able to walk on grass, hell, even seeing grass. I have yet to see a blade of grass over here. I don't remember seeing much in Iraq either. Maybe that's what makes these people so angry. Maybe a little dirt, some seed, and some "weed and feed" and we could win this war. But until we try that we will roaming around here on the rocks. Hopefully I don't break an ankle.

"there are no scientist on the way down, just a working example of faith versus physics" El-P

Pick a winner

A shitty wife is just as dangerous an any bad guy out there. I have been here for two weeks and seen on two different occasions where a soldier over here has probably regretted his decision to be with the women on the other end.

Scene number one unveiled itself at the local ATM the other day. There is only a few here so there is usually a line and I found myself standing in it with a buddy who needed cash. About five people in front of us was a young soldier who was trying to get some money out when it denied him for insufficient funds. So he swiped his card and tried again, same result. He swiped it for a third time, this time checking his balance and that was when he lost it. He punched the machine, screaming, " G** D*****, not again! I cant believe she keeps doing this!" "F***!!!!!!!!!!!!"  He then stormed off to either cry in a dark corner or chew her out over the phone.. who knows. Hopefully he will get a new account and cut her and her new boyfriend off.  

You could hear the pain in his voice, it was quite the temper tantrum. We all knew what happened; she wiped him out. Apparently this wasn't the first time either.Way to go buddy, you picked a winner. 

Scene number two has been going on for awhile now, but it appears the final blow happened the other day. It involved a soldier of ours and his wife. This couple had been together for quite awhile, and have a few kids too. I didn't care to get into the gossip of it all, as much as I do love gossip, but the short story is some wives can not handle being a military wife. I know it has to be hard on them. I cant even imagine it.  But we are an aviation unit for crying out loud. Our biggest problem is that there is no hot water. But never-the-less she couldn't do it. She cracked and could not take care of the kids, the law got involved and all sorts of drama. So a very critical member of our team is headed home to handle things on the home front because she couldn't. We are shorthanded already and now even less guys are stuck having to do more. We will be alright, we are pretty damn good at what we do, but you can see how one bad apple can really screw things up. Hopefully this is the last guy we lose to this.

For those of you that know my wife, she is a winner. I know I have nothing to worry about. I count my blessings everyday that I have her. I truly lucked out. To bad these other guys were not as lucky.

"take a leap right out the window, because its way to far to go through the door...."

- Brand New

Part of it

The other night we were called out to respond to a TIC (Troops in Contact). We arrived on scene and it was to late. The ground guys had already taken heavy losses and were in urgent need of a Medevac. The scene was still very hostile and they would not release the Medevac to come in for the wounded until we had reduced the enemy threat to the LZ so the birds could get in and rescue these guys, both US and Afghani Army, safely.

One of our most effective tools is simply the sound of our rotor system. They hear that noise and know exactly what is coming for them. When we roll on station often the fighting stops. Then can't beat us and we can absolutely crush them. The went silent once we arrived. But this area where this was taking place is so bad, so hostile, we had an OH-58D team down low, an AH-64D team above them, an AC-130 Gunship above that, and two F-16 fighters above all of us. With all that air power they finally released the Medevac to come in feeling that it was safe enough for the extraction.

The terrain was very narrow and restrictive and the weather was worsening with scattered thunderstorms, and fog beginning to build as the sun slipped behind the mountains. With 6 helicopters all working over one another in this valley it was very tense and only magnified by the desperate calls over the radio for more medical supplies and the pleading for the birds to get their guys out before they all died. It was already to late for one young man. While I am not sure whether he was a US soldier or a Afghan Army it's a member of their team that was fighting side by side with them just hours earlier.

All of these things going on, the building urgency of it, all the adrenaline going though everyone's blood.  It all added up.

It all added up to this.

There were two locations that soldiers needed to be extracted from. One was near a cell phone tower and required a hoist to pull the injured up to the aircraft while it hovered overhead. So one aircraft moved in to position and began its extraction while the second was to drop off it's medic on the pinnacle on a hill top along a ridge line where a small patrol base was being placed.  This pinnacle landing was going to require the Medevac aircraft to place on wheel on the surface on the hill while the other two wheels remained airborne over the steeply descending hillside. For a pilot a to do this they must place a increased amount of right pressure on the control stick to lean the rotor disc towards the hillside and hold the wheel to the surface. This maneuver is practiced regularly and and performed often here. The pilot did this allowing the medic to exit the aircraft so he could begin to triage all the wounded on the hilltop and determine to priority of them for evacuation. There were two many for one trip so the stable ones would have to remain until the birds could return.

The medic never made it to the wounded. He exited the aircraft, undoubtedly full of adrenalin, ready to do his job and save these guys. He exited and rushed towards the wounded and a few steps later was struck in the head by the rotor system of the Medevac aircraft. The increased right cyclic to hold the aircraft on the hilltop and the raising terrain had brought the blades lower that usual and struck him.

He immediately feel to the ground. The helicopter pulled away from the hilltop, taking damage to a rotor blade from the strike and was forced to return to the nearest base to check the damage, unable to pick up any wounded. The other bird moved from the cell tower with its patients to now drop off their medic to evaluate the downed medic and the other wounded awaiting extraction.

As he got to his buddy you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. He knew he wasn't going to make it.
The trauma to his head was to severe. He was screaming his status in the radio over the noise of the nearby hovering helicopter accepting the wounded from the ground troops assigned to the patrol base. His skull was crushed, and his eyes had been blown out from the blade strike. He wasn't breathing but still had a faint pulse. The medic started CPR in a desperate attempt to save his friend that was with is just moments ago. The pilots urged him to help with the extraction of the others but he kept coming back to his buddy. He didn't want to give up on his friend. But it was to late. He died on that hilltop in an attempt to do his job. Save the others.

This all happened right below us. While we listened to every word over the radio as we covered the extraction. It's an awful part of war, but it's part of it.

"its war all the time, in the shadow of a New York skyline...."   - Thursday

Bueno.

First snow on the mountains at sunrise.

I'm not one to make fun of another person. But I am not so much making fun of these people, as I am messing with them. See the workers at the dining facilities are not soldiers. They are TCN’s. (Third Country Nationals) They are from Pakistan, and Uzbekistan and Nepal and various other nearby countries and very, very few speak any English. They all know the very basic, i.e.: yes, no, more, steak, potatoes, burger, fries, thank you and so on. The give this robotic head nod and mumble you’re welcome. What I have started doing for my own lil’ enjoyment is speaking Spanish. They are completely clueless and don’t know what to serve me or what to say back. They just give you this blank stare and you can see that they are thinking…WTF?

I love it. 

"the kind of song that makes people glad to be where they are with whoever they'er there with..." 

- Brand New  

Non-typical Saturday

This Saturday I was able to get around the base and see what all there is out here. I had a few things I had to do and once I was done I was able to wander around a bit. If you never left the wire here you would never realize there is even a war going on. This place is ridiculous.

On my list of things to do was get a haircut. I didn’t see any barber shops but I did see a “Beauty with Spa” sign and figured that it would suffice. I got a great haircut, I got my hair washed, and a massage for $10. This is an obvious step up from trading Redbulls to my roommate to cut my hair while in Iraq. Next I wandered around a fairly large PX and looked at all the countless ways I could waste my money, and at all the other soldiers that had successfully found ways to waste theirs. From there I stepped over to what has become all too familiar at big air bases like this, Pizza Hut.  I figured I would treat myself to a slice while I was out and maybe a Coke too so I headed inside. (Side note: Up until this point have not had any soda since I left the US. For me that’s pretty tough. I love sodas.)

While standing in the rather long line I began watching the rugby match that was on the TV. It was France vs. England, live from Rugby World Cup in New Zealand being shown on some sort of hotwired Indian Dish Network.  As I am watching this match a large group of French soldiers get in line behind me all ready to order pizzas and watch the match. As I am standing there in line I am routing for England quietly to myself.  A French soldier who speaks English about as well as I speak French, starts asking me about the match and then ask “who am I for…” I am by myself here and don’t really care to tell this group of guys that I don’t like the French or their rugby team, so I make a motion to the group and say “well, I guess I am for the French!” With that news they cheer and all want to shake my hand. Then one offers to buy me lunch and eat with them. I am not one to turn down Pizza Hut in Afghanistan so I agree and spend the next 80 minutes watching a great rugby match with about a dozen French soldiers and two Norwegians that later joined us. It was an awesome experience and has begun to change my view of the French. Oh, and the French won if you were wondering.

Later that day I was able to top it all off by watching OU dismantle Texas on my little 15” screen. It wasn’t in HD, I didn’t have surround sound and the picture is what I would describe as “crappy” at best. But despite all that I was able to watch the game and loved every minute of it. It was a little bit of home over here and was great.

So by the end of the day, I had the French buy my lunch and got to watch some rugby. I got a cell phone and my hair cut and washed. Then capped it all off with watching another great Sooner victory.  Doesn’t really sound like a warzone to me. At least not what I am use to. This pilot gig really is pretty nice.

“I know you feel it too, these words seem so untrue…” Tegan & Sara

You've got mail.

(My Name)
F Trp 1-17 CAV, Task Force Talon
Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan
APO AE 09354

That’s where I live. If you would like to mail me cash money or gold bars feel free. If you don’t happen to have either of those lying around but would still like to send me something I will provide a list at the bottom of things me and my buddies would enjoy.

Life here is good. I flew for the first time today and got to see some of the Afghan country side. It looks like parts of the Front Range in Colorado. Except swap the farm houses and meth labs for flat roofed square huts and homemade explosives labs.

Here in a few days I should start flying missions and getting into the flow of things for how they will be for the next year. So we will see how things go! I am looking forward to getting busy and starting the fun. Because time flies when you are having fun….

Things I like:

Red Bull

5 hour Energy

Clif Bars

Quaker Instant Oatmeal

Granola Bars

Trail Mix

Things like that... Healthy snacks that dont melt, stay fresh and are good for you. my job requires me to sit there the whole time. Its not like when I was a tanker and got to run around and chase bad guys and kick in doors and burn calories.

"I just got a message saying that Hell has frozen over, I got a phone call from the Lord saying hey boy get a sweater right now..." -Modest Mouse

Home, for now.

Well, here I am. Just about all moved in to my new little home here in Afghanistan. The housing for us really isn’t too bad. We live in what are known as “B Huts”. My room is about 10x10 with a door and a window but the window stays shut due to all the dust in the air. The hut is made entirely of plywood and 2x4’s and I have one outlet to run everything from, so we are pretty much living in a matchbox. Eight of us live in a hut, four to a side with a hallway that runs down the middle. As of now I really like it. It’s nice to have my own space to get away from everyone at the end of the day. There is a bunk bed that the pervious tenant built and under it is a desk that I am typing from right now. I strung up some Christmas lights for some lighting since there is no light and I have a small fan to move some air. An ugly 4x8 piece of carpet and a broken office chair and some shelves and that’s pretty much it. Tomorrow I got big plans of hanging my OU flag on my ceiling. That should really take this dump to the next level of classiness. Slowly though it is starting to feel like a home.

There are talks of moving us over to some new CHU’s similar to the one I lived in Iraq, but typical contractor BS has slowed that all down to a halt. They placed all our CHU’s in nice rows and got them all set up but there was no hardened roof to protect from rocket attacks so they placed sandbags on top with no added supports. Well, that cracked the roofs and let water in. Then they noticed that the shitty concrete work that they over paid a bunch of stupid locals to do was cracking from the weight. Not too long after that they realized that the other group of local overpaid jackasses didn’t clean up all the water in all the CHU’s like they were hired for. And well, when they opened up some of the rooms they were covered in mold. Way to go guys. Awesome. Glad my tax dollars are paying for this.

So once they clean the mold out, fix the slab and install a roof structure we will get to move in. I am not holding my breath on ever moving in there. I don’t really want to anyways, I will have a roommate over there and I don’t want that. I was able to find a little TV for my room so I can watch AFN (American Forces Network) programming and all their sweet commercials. Those that have been stationed overseas will understand what I mean about that. We also have Wi-Fi in our huts now. It’s not the fastest ever. Probably won’t ever be able to FaceTime on it or video Skype but I can chat and email and obviously, blog.

As far as surroundings, we are tucked down in a bowl in the mountains. The view would be quite nice I would imagine but the smog and dust in the air from the relentless air traffic reduces the visibility a bit. There are F-16 and F-15 jets stationed here and they fly out regularly. When they do you can miss it. Its shakes the little hut so bad and if you are outside it’s deafening. We live no more than a few hundred yards from the runway so it’s pretty noisy here. But that’s the sounds of freedom so I am not complaining.

As we get more settled here I will fill you in on more of the living conditions. So far I am very pleased with them. Much better than you would expect for a war zone.

“Freedom hangs like Heaven over everyone…” - Iron & Wine

Taxed Enough Already?

Nearly every day there is a flight on a US jet that leaves here taking military members to various parts of the world. This plane is funded by tax dollars just like everything else in the military. It would seem fiscally responsible that this jet is packed full of soldiers headed to their location, so awaiting soldiers can board and begin their trip back home to their families. Right?

But this is where typical military non-sense steps in. See it is widely joked about that at some high level military course that common sense is washed from all these leaders’ heads and crap is shoved back in. This case is a perfect example of that.

Often this flight heads out nowhere near full. The flight last night had 52 empty seats on it. 52! There is well over 52 soldiers waiting here to head in to the AO and I know for a fact there are 52 soldiers on the other end of this flight waiting on their replacement.

In a war that has lasted over 10 years, it is apparent that “status quo” is acceptable. Most people are of the mindset that they should just do what the unit before did for the next 12 months, don’t try anything new, just get your time done a go home. The war will never be won with people like this. These people are largely why we are still here. They also make up a large part of the military.
I just wanted to bring that to your attention. This is just on case that happens nearly daily and nothing will change. I'm sure there is some sort of BS reason why it is like that. It has something to do units ULN numbers and personnel tracking, which is garbage. Given the right resources an ape could come up with a better process. I’m sure many people before me have been disgusted with the gross inefficiency of this system. The truth is that I will get on a flight (eventually) and once I'm gone it’s not really my problem. I have to move on to the next waste of time money and resources. Don’t worry, I will tell you about all those too.

Don’t get me wrong I love the military. I just find it sick that as this country slips deeper in debt we are burning cash like this.

One thing is for sure; if the military was a private business it would have closed the door years ago and been a text book example of what not to do.

"and it was not your fault but mine.... " Mumford & Sons

I'm There.

This blog will not be like the last. This deployment will not be like the last either. There won’t be heart felt stories about going and passing out candy to kids at a school or playing soccer with a rag tag group of the Iraqi Army or sipping chai tea with a family at sunrise. There will be adult language and topics, nothing will be sugar coated nor will it be glamorized. It’s a war after all.

My job is different now as a pilot. I’m now in the customer service field. My customers are the guys I use to be; the door kickers, the gunners, the kids that fight day in and day out so they can make it back to their families. Helping my customers isn’t often pretty. We don’t have flowers attached to the wings, we don’t give out hugs. Just Hellfire missiles and rockets and a chain gun under the nose that throws 30mm grenades at 625 rounds a minute. My work is rewarding in the fact that one day a kid will walk up to me at Green Beans Coffee Shop and thank me for saving him and his squad when they were under attack and not sure they would make it out until they looked up and saw the Apaches inbound.

Along with each blog I will try to add a few pictures of what’s been going on. I will try to snap a few while flying as well. Pictures on and around aviation assets is usually strictly prohibited and I don’t want to get myself or anyone else in trouble. I also don’t want the bad guys to get a glimpse on our lil base. With most entries I will add a line or two from a favorite song. I hope you all find this enjoyable and interesting, please email me with questions you have about certain things and I will try to fill you in as best I can whether on here or via email.
Thank you and enjoy.

“nobody likes to be half a world away at times like these, so I sat alone and waited out the night…” -Brand New