Lost in the Sauce

I haven’t written in awhile, as usual. But it’s because I have not felt inspired to write, and for several reasons. Mostly because I have not been in the right frame of mind to write anything positive or to coherently recall my experiences thus far without adding a tinge of negativity to positively everything I can think of about where I am and what I am doing. I’ll try and just cover what’s been going on around here.

Remember that boardwalk I mentioned in my last post that resembled a college block party at Kandahar Air Base? Shortly after my post it was discovered that a suicide bomber was walking along that very same place and decided that he didn’t want to die, and was apprehended. That VERY same place where I had been walking a couple of weeks prior; how in the world did he get on base in the first place? Without knowing all of the details I can’t speculate, but I can tell you this: I’m going to avoid that boardwalk next time I’m in town.

I think that the Taliban have some sort of grudge with the 101st Airborne Division. When the 82nd was here they scoffed at how they had only been attacked a few times during the entire tour. As soon as they left we got hit several times with rockets and mortars; one in particular that was too close for comfort. It was dark, and almost time to go on shift. As I walked out the door there was a loud BOOM somewhere behind our living area. Being all too familiar with the sound, I headed for cover. Somehow I ended up with a corndog in my hand and began running to the other side of our area to meet up with the guys. Upon reaching the adjacent bunker a loud, deep whistle and a WHOOSH sounded over head, followed by a forceful explosion. The rocket landed no more than 60 meters from us with a violent concussion. The shockwave spread quickly and as it passed through us I could see other soldiers’ clothes move as if blown by wind. Sparks spewed from the area and then silence, except for the sound of debris raining down on us and the roofs of our cubicle rooms. That’s the closest call I’ve had so far.

An attack at the airfield sends us to designated fighting positions scattered strategically along the aircraft parking areas, so that we can monitor what little wall we have keeping the outside world outside (that wall being a continuous line of Hesco Barriers around the FOB perimeter, some 250 meters from our fighting position). Upon hearing a blast and an alarm one night, several other soldiers and I suited up with body armor, grabbed our weapons, hopped into a gator and sped out to a bunker, where our fighting position sat nestled on top. We got set up quickly with an M249 Squad Automatic Weapon, one M4 mounted with an M230 grenade launcher, three other M4’s locked and loaded, night vision goggles, and an assortment of grenades. I peeled my eyes so I could see to that Hesco wall, waiting for someone to try and come over it. Anything that moves over that wall gets killed. We monitored our radio for any transmissions regarding enemy movement, but there were none. Eventually, an “all clear” sounded across the freq and we disappointedly packed our weapons on to the gator and drove back. I’ve had a couple of experiences like that, but as for excitement, that’s about as good as it gets.

The hardest thing for me to get over out here is that Tarin Kowt is nothing like Salerno was. The tempo was upbeat, the mission clear. We knew what we had to do, and there was always something TO do. Danger was ever present, as I recall by reading all of my old posts. Perhaps it was because our last FOB was on the Pakistani border, or perhaps it’s because of the recent change in ROE to try and fend off civilian casualties during operations. Whatever the case may be, things have changed dramatically since our last tour. A buddy of mine said it best tonight when he said “this isn’t a war anymore; it’s a game.” He was referring to how our operations have changed from trying to destroy the Taliban to somehow negotiating with them. The thought of this angers me to no end, as I thought we didn’t negotiate with terrorists. Through offers of land development and job opportunities, among other things, the government of Afghanistan seeks to soak the terrorist back into society in hopes that fighting will cease. Let’s take a look at the real world for a moment and what’s really going on. The local populace does not want us here; if they cooperate with NATO forces they’ll most likely lose their heads. The Taliban does not want us here, Captain Obvious, and we are getting NOWHERE with anything we are doing. In fact, what ARE we doing? We kill some of them, and they kill some of us. There are patrols, ambushes, collateral damage and scolding by a weak Afghani leader who threatened to join the Taliban himself! We surge and then the Army orders our brigade commander to send 400 troops home. What the HELL is going on? Why am I here? All I know right now is that the American taxpayers are dumping a ton of money into a campaign that is not producing. I miss my wife. I miss her terribly, and I miss my family too. Sometimes I sit here for 12 hours and do absolutely nothing. It angers me to no end. I could be at home with my beautiful wife. All of this is stress on a new marriage. Nine months left is all I keep thinking, and then I am finished with the Army. But then I remember. The same thing I always tell myself, and was reminded of by a newspaper article I read recently on Heroes of Afghanistan: We keep at bay a relentless force that would like nothing better than to bring their fight directly to the heart of our American Homeland. We are definitely keeping them at bay…so if that is our only true mission, then so be it. Politics and all other BS aside, what it always comes back to is family. I don’t do this in hopes of spreading democracy in Afghanistan. The people here just want to live their lives unbothered by war and fear, as I want to live mine.

So if I sit here for 12 hours and nothing happens, then OK. I’m still alive at least, and everyone is still at home, not having given up on me. I don’t want Afghanistan to turn into the next Vietnam. We need to stay until the job is done, but I’m not even sure if we know what the job is anymore. I pray that our higher leaders will find some sort of direction and we can end this war with some sort of positive outcome. We don’t want to wonder what our mission is anymore; we want to know it and we want to execute flawlessly like we’ve been trained to do. AND then we want to come home and kiss our wives and call it a day. We did what we could, spilled blood, and sacrificed it all in the name of our flag. We helped as many people as we could while keeping our own nation safe. Can we please have our lives back now? I hope so. I love my country and I love the men and women who sacrifice it all to come over here. I just hope that it doesn’t end in vain. Progress, please show your face. We need you now more than ever.

Cheers,

-J