Misspent Youth

I have had a bit of writer's block lately; I don't know if it's because a lot of the same things that I've already written about keep happening, or if I am just in an uncreative slump. Either way, I try to wait until I have things to discuss before I make a post. But I don't want it to be a month in between posts, either.

The jib-jibs have apparently found someone to take the place of those previously responsible for the rocket attacks (you know, the ones we snuffed earlier). It had been a bit since we got hit, and I thought that maybe it would be done until summer. Well, as soon as I came up with this theory it was shattered by a series of explosions. The funny thing is, it always seems to be in my vicinity; I can only pray that big guns upstairs doesn't have it out for me yet. So we hear the booms, 20mm rounds coming in, and we get trapped in the chow hall because there is a hero first sergeant who won't let anyone leave. Because of his heroism we missed the first all clear, and when our platoon sergeant came to get accountability of the night crew we were nowhere to be found.

Finally, this guy let us out so we hurry back to our buildings to make the shift change at the airfield, and we get hit AGAIN. This time we were near our building so we just stayed in there until the all clear. During which, our howitzers made metal rain from the skies on our attackers. Their booms shook Bird Tree and the buildings, but by this time its occupants had vacated. The muzzle flashes lit the entire night sky for a split second, time and time again. It's funny how during an attack you see no one because they've all retreated into cover or onto the lines as a member of the quick reactionary force. After the all clear, people come out of the woodwork; reminds me of The Wizard of Oz when all the little munchkins come out of hiding to greet Dorothy. Regardless, after it was said and done we headed to work like nothing had happened. Just another day.

Some of the guys in my platoon had to go to a shooting range the other day to re qualify with their M4. From the pictures I saw, it looks like they went off base, set up a perimeter in the dirt, and laid some targets. Whenever this happens, all of the little children come to the perimeter and try to get through; they must be used to the firing, but they don't get used to the pathfinders holding the perimeter not letting them past. In response, one little boy told the pathfinder that Al Qaida was going to kill us all. IN response to that, the pathfinder pointed his weapon at the boy and gave him the wicked eye. The boy understood clearly and took off running.

I found out why the kids gather at the range as well. As soon as everyone finishes firing and gets in the trucks to roll out, the kids envelope the range, kicking and hitting each other in hopes of being first to the mass quantities of spent brass ammo cartridges scattered among the dirt and rocks. I don't know why they want them so bad, but I have my ideas. Perhaps they can sell them to someone who melts them down and makes more bullets or other objects. Or, perhaps, they use them to put into IEDs that will explode and send shrapnel into our humvees and soldiers. If it were up to me, those kids would be nowhere near the range. Nonetheless, the mob stays there, fighting and screaming and clawing each other, until every last piece is gathered up. Very strange, if you ask me.

I try not to hold stereotypes of the children, but I cannot shake the idea that the wild, extremist beliefs of their forefathers will be passed along to them as well, and they will take their place one day. Children are innocent until corrupted by those around them, and it bothers me a great deal that this is the law of the land in Afghanistan. So, the way I feel about a large percentage of Afghanis remains the same.

I hope some prove me wrong.

Cheers,

-J