The Rumors aren't Rumors; It's too Surreal

First, I have to mention that the previous post was supposed to be posted days ago; but seeing as how we are in the middle of nowhere the Internet can be a little flaky, so maybe you get to read two posts at once.

Middle of nowhere is an understatement. We are in the suck. Our FOB is in a bowl, surrounded by large mountains. It's like a mountain pass or valley if you will, which doesn't seem smart tactically as a defensive position. Sometimes inclement weather shuts all air traffic down, minus the combat necessity aircraft such as the Apache. In other words, when the weather gets rough, we are shut out from the rest of the world. Word is such weather is heading in, and keeping our aircraft from getting here. Luckily we have aircraft here already, which is no surprise or new news.

I must note that we are not even supposed to keep a blog here, because people give out too much information. I will keep it as vague as possible, with the intent of keeping readers informed. Therefore, you will never know specifics of what is happening here; but you will be able to create your own picture. I need to write and I need people to have a sense of how we survive. Sorry to you censors, I've been trained in the craft.

We always hear rumors of happenings outside of the base. Naturally that is where most of the action is, save the attacks that come our way (they don't call this place rocket city for nothin'). The other day a convoy was hit by an IED; someone with not so much time left in country was killed. His rank raises questions to me as to why he was out there in the first place. I don't know. The rumor is not a rumor.

Here on the FOB, like on the TV show M.A.S.H., when a medevac Blackhawk comes back with injured soldiers, an announcement comes over the loudspeaker alerting medical personnel for all to hear. Even though they speak in code, we've learned their language and know the medical status of everyone coming in. You may not hear anything on the news about this place, but people are dying, and it seems to be every day. As I type now, a battle rages on in the distance.

There is a sense of satisfaction in knowing that my aircraft helps to save lives on the battlefield. A small team of SF soldiers can vouch for that; their up armored HUMVEE was ambushed by nearly an entire company of Taliban fighters. Some distance away, an Apache received a call for help and the crew diverted from their patrol, pushing the throttle, screaming to reach the scene in time. Needless to say, I don't know what wiped the Taliban out, but I can guess a barrage of 30mm high explosive rounds and salvos of rockets dealt their fate. I load the munitions and maintain these systems. Being on the receiving end would be, in my opinion, a dark and hellish end to one's existence here on earth. I don't know if it's right to have such a vital part of being a dealer of death, but at the end of the day it allowed our boys to return here safely.

I'm still not sure how I feel about all of this. I'm sitting here, in this decent room, with a decent bed, hot showers, hot chow, and Internet. All the while, the infantry sits holed up somewhere, sleeping in the muck, dirty and tired, shooting and being shot at, and watching their buddies get blown to bits. I could probably get in a vehicle and drive to where they are in not so much time. Is me doing my job enough to satisfy the idea that we, as 15Y's, are doing all that we can to help win the fight? I guess that question will be answered over time.

Every infantry guy I've ever spoken with, at one time or another, has shaken my hand and told me their story of how they were bogged down in a firefight somewhere, and when all hope was lost and they thought they were going to get it an Apache came screaming in with guns and rockets, crushing the enemy and allowing the GIs to escape. It's a mutual respect I suppose; when they learn what I do they are always grateful. And I am definitely grateful for what they do as well. Sometimes I just wish I could do more. At any rate, I am finally getting to see how important my job is, and the results of the countless, tireless hours are coming to light.

That's all I have for now. We will continue to do what we do, and hope for the best. It's going to get really busy really soon, so I will post when I can. Until then, I wish all of you the best back home. Live life to the fullest and enjoy your freedoms, because there are soldiers here laying it all on the line to ensure that you can do so. I'm not talking about me, either. They say that heroes are the ones who don't make it back. There's a lot of heroes here.

-J