-An Air Force style depiction of my Afghanistan deployment. Insight on how it really is-
The Adventures of Sergeant Topbunk
Chapter 1- "Please God, anything but a top bunk!"
0610 departure. Typical. I haven't found it, but I know there must be a government regulation somewhere that states, 'While you are in the military,
every flight you ever take will depart between 0600 and 0630.' If you
were given an itinerary and your departure time was 0715, somebody fucked up BIG time. Someone will be losing a job over that one. I just hope it's not
near the holidays and that guy still has a lot of gifts to buy. 'Daddy,
why are there no presents under the tree this year and how come all we had for Christmas dinner were Ramen noodles?' 'Well son, daddy was trying to be nice by giving those boys going to Afghanistan a flight that left after 630am. Then daddy was told to pack his own bags too because he was never going to work there again.'
I knew I would be going to Afghanistan for the last 6 months. And
even the whole month prior, when all I did was have classes, meetings, and
appointments for the deployment, it never really sank in. Also, in the
back of my mind, I just always had a feeling that I simply wasn't going to
leave. I don't know why I was so optimistic. I went exactly eleven years
since my last real deployment and I guess I just thought I was going to be
able to keep that streak going.
Something would pop up. A medical problem, a family emergency, the deployment cancelling, my work section realizing my ability to go days while talking only in 80's movies quotes would be missed too much and I would have to stay. Anything. I just knew I wasn't going to go. But it wasn't until I put on my new Afghanistan uniform and waited for the cab to pick me up that I realized, 'Oh fuck. This is really happening. My 80's movie impressions were nowhere as good as I thought they were.'
After meeting up on base at 0200, and having a 'send off' which
consisted of just 3 people saying, 'bye' and, 'It's not as bad as you
think. You aren't going to think of suicide nearly as much as those people
who went before you,' we got on a bus and headed to the airport. The airport
was an hour away but we seemed to have gotten there abnormally fast. I guess because no one really wanted to leave. It was like we were saying goodbye to everything. Every billboard we passed by was a reminder of all the great things we would miss about America. All the food, casinos, strip clubs, suing people...everything.
We were traveling in uniform. I hate that. I hate wearing my uniform
in public. I am proud of what I do and proud of my job, but when you wear a
uniform in public you stand out like a sore thumb in a sea of beautiful thumbs. Wearing a uniform in public can also seem like you are showing off. As if you want everyone to know you are in the military and you're better than them. It's not true, I just don't want to risk that perception from certain people. I get embarrassed and ashamed just asking for a military discount and hope the guy behind me doesn't notice. 'Hey wait a second pal! So this bozo
in front of me dropped out of college and joined the military because he
wasn't fit to do anything else in this world that involves any real thinking
and now wants 10% off his bill??' Yup. That's what they all think. People
can be so rude sometimes.
The truth though is that almost every American loves the American
military. It started long ago and the military got even more love
and support after 9-11. A lot of people may not be happy with the American
government's specific actions and money used in the war effort while
sending husbands, wives, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters away for
6, 12, or even 18 months at a time, but most realize that there's something
that needs to be done in the world, and that it needs to be taken up by
the American Armed Forces. It's great to know that lots of people appreciate
all the hard work being done by American soldiers, and for some reason,
every person over the age of 40 feels that it is their duty as a warm
blooded American to go up to every military person they ever see in uniform
and, 'thank them for their service' ...and I HATE it.
It's great to be appreciated, but it feels weird being appreciated by someone who doesn't know me or know what I do. If a co-worker
or boss tells me I'm doing a good job, I feel good, it makes me happy. When
a random person I don't know tells me I'm doing a good job, I just think,
'Do they know that the half-shift I worked last night only consisted of 3
emails and watching ESPN before coming home to get drunk while playing video games before passing out on the couch?' Because I have a feeling that they don't. That's usually not every day though...just the days with the letter "s" in them.
When normal people see men in uniform, they automatically have a certain
perception of them. Usually good and honorable things. And they think
we are constantly deployed away from our families just so we can continue to
preserve freedom in America. Well...it's not always like that. At least not
for everyone. Don't get me wrong though, serving in the military is not easy
and not for everyone. Whether you deploy a little or a lot, we all deploy and
eventually move away from family and friends multiple times. And there is so much bullshit that goes on in the military that I wouldn't even know where to start in talking about it.
But overall though, the military, especially in the Air
Force, is great. It has given me a lot. I would hate to think where I would
be without it. I was given a good life where I wouldn't even have to think
of my future since it was already thought up for me or soon will be. I feel
very fortunate, and all I had to do was fail at college then go sign the
dotted line.
We aren't being drafted anymore. This isn't Vietnam. The military is
an all-volunteer force. I didn't HAVE to do this and I didn't HAVE to
re-enlist. No one has to. The military is trying to save money and if
you don't like it, it's actually pretty easy to just simply quit now. And if you
don't feel like filling out a lot of paperwork, just smoke a joint in front of
your commander and that will speed you right up. The real heroes, the REAL
people who you should be thanking every day, are those that were drafted in Vietnam, Korea, and the World Wars. Even if all they did was a half-way decent job, they were still just taken off the street and thrown into war. It's not something most people wish would happen to them when they wake up in the morning. But lots of those people did their job, did it well, saved lives, got shot at, killed enemies, saved countries, had shitty YEARS, not just a shitty deployment or a bad week, and are STILL proud of the U.S government and it's military. Working a normal 9-5 job and then forced to go to war and NOT be bitter about it?? I don't know about you, but kf it was me, for the rest of my life I would constantly be yelling, 'Oh heeeeeeeeelll no!!'
That's why I am reluctant to appreciate other's appreciation of me.
To me, I'm just doing my job. I knew what I was getting myself into. No one
joins the Army and Marines and thinks, 'Oh cool I'm a soldier now! I just
hope I never have to deploy during the next 20 years because that would
suck!' I have kept a tally of how many times people have thanked me
for my service while wearing my uniform in commercial airports for just two
days now...12 times. Seriously. The first 2 days of my deployment...12 times.
One guy even told me in the bathroom while we were washing our hands. I guess that was ok. It would have been more weird if we both had our hands on our dicks while standing in front of the urinals. I never know how to respond to, 'Thank you for your service.' Usually I will just smile and say 'thanks' or 'alright' or, 'oh...ya, ok' because it takes me a minute to realize they were talking to me. Maybe they were just talking to the guy taking out the trash and cleaning up piss around the toilet. If you want to thank someone for their service, thank the guy cleaning up the men's bathroom after the 16 hour flight from Calcutta to San Francisco arrives. Thank HIM for his dedicated service. If there's anyone in the world who's been through some REAL shit for the betterment of America, it's that guy.
Though I might feel a little guilty sometimes with all the appreciation and military discounts, one thing I will always take and not feel guilty
about...getting upgraded on a plane. It's quite possibly the number one
thing about being in the military. But you HAVE to be in uniform, otherwise
the airlines don't care as much. And since I actually have normal clothes
and don't just wear my uniform everywhere I go like I'm in the Army, these
flight upgrades are rare.
There were 4 of us on the flight from California to Baltimore and we were informed that there was one more First Class seat available. There was already another small group of other military members up there and they told the flight attendant to have the lowest ranking military person sit in the First Class seat. So we did. Not MY choice, but we let it happen.
Ok, here's my thought on the situation...letting the
lowest ranking person sit First Class is JUST like a ball-boy at a baseball
game giving a foul ball to a little kid. Does that kid really deserve the
ball? Does that kid really know how rare it is to get a foul ball? Does that kid
even know who hit that ball? Has that kid been through all of that team's
good and bad times? Through the thick and thin? Through the hot summer days and rainy fall nights? No. This is that kid's FIRST baseball game and that
motherfucker already got a baseball!
The First Class seat should go to the person who has been in the military the longest! The person who has been deployed before and has been through lots of shit while being bombarded by random strangers thanking him for his service in the fucking bathroom! You see what I mean??
I just so happened to be the guy in our group who has been in the military the longest, but that has nothing to do with my reasoning. None at all.
By far, the worst part about a deployment, is just GETTING to a
deployment. So many long layovers, missing bags, overcrowded flights, no showers, and worst of all, doing all of this while trying to carry four 50 pound bags. The military gives you so much shit to bring. They give you everything you will ever need for free. That's great. But when it comes to MOVING all that
shit...you are FUCKED. The military gives us so much and waste money on so
many things no one needs, but they can't issue every military member a mobile luggage dolly.
How do you carry a backpack and four 50 pound bags? You don't. Your only option is to struggle to carry two and kick the other two a few hundred feet to where they need to go. Terminals do have luggage carts, but not the terminal you fly out of in Baltimore when deploying. Your only option is to walk to the other side of the airport and pay 5 dollars for a cart. Yes. Seriously. 5 dollars. Now, I'm not THAT old, but it seems just a short time ago that luggage carts used to be 50 or 75 cents. What happened? I understand inflation, but 5 dollars??? How?? Fucking Al Qaeda, that's how.
The USO is a great organization. They do so much for the troops. They sponsor free concerts, send you treats, toiletries, calling cards, and have free internet access at airports. Very helpful stuff. And the USO at Baltimore is one of the best in the business. A very nice facility with the friendliest staff with
lots of free food and drinks. They even give out care packages for everyone
deploying and throw a little party in the terminal for every soldier
returning home through the terminal they are at. They have been working
with these pre and post deployment flights nearly every day for the past 15
years. That's a lot. So many deployments and so many care packages and cookies and hard work. But for doing this almost every day for 15 years, they
still have yet to figure one thing out....something to really help the
troops and honor them...and you know what that is?...
GET SOME GOD DAMN FUCKING BAGGAGE CARTS FOR THE MILITARY DEPLOYING TERMINAL IN BALTIMORE!! IT'S THE BUSIEST DEPLOYING TERMINAL IN THE FUCKING WORLD! OVER 2500 PEOPLE DEPLOY IN AND OUT OF THAT TERMINAL EVERY FUCKING WEEK WITH AT LEAST 4 HEAVY ASS BAGS WITH NO WAY TO MOVE THEM!! YOU HAVE SEEN AND WATCHED THIS EVERY...FUCKING...DAY...FOR OVER A FUCKING DECADE AND YET YOU DO NOTHING!! NOTHING!!!! INSTEAD, YOU GIVE US STALE COOKIES AND SEND HAS-BEEN COUNTRY MUSIC ARTIST TO THE MIDDLE EAST WHILE THAT MONEY COULD BE USED FOR BAGGAGE CARTS!! IT'S SO FUCKING SIMPLE AND NOT THAT EXPENSIVE!! ONLY DEPLOYING MILITARY WOULD GET TO USE THEM AND YOU WOULD GET TO STOP GIVING DEPLOYERS A HEADACHE BEFORE THEY EVEN GET TO THEIR LOCATION!! YOUR INCOMPETENCE IS THE REASON PEOPLE SAY, 'I CAN'T WAIT TO LEAVE BALTIMORE AND GET TO AFGHANISTAN WHERE I CAN FINALLY RELAX AND NOT HAVE TO DEAL WITH THESE FUCKING BAGS!!'
But I digress...moving on...
Someone in our group wanted a photo taken for their relative's church. They wanted to see us and pray for us. That's fine. No problem I guess. But we had the photo taken at the terminal in front of everyone else who was deploying. It just felt a bit weird.
I like the idea of it all and would like a copy of that photo to look at years from now for sentimental value...and to use as encouragement before going to the gym because all I would think about is the lack of free baggage carts at the
Baltimore airport and that would really get my blood boiling. I'd be tossing
around weights like they were made out of styrofoam after thinking of that
terminal again. But I felt weird in the picture because no other groups were taking pictures. We looked like a group of guys going on their very first deployment. Or even worse...we looked like a bunch of Reservists. When you deploy, it's best to act like you've been there before. Act professional. Act like you know what's going on. But obviously that's not me because I didn't think to use a fucking baggage cart.
I did mess up a second time though. We all did. Because no one
brought a power cable with extra outlets on it to plug in. Outlets have now
become possibly the single most important amenity to all military members and travelers everywhere. We bring so much stuff with us to help get us through deployments, layovers, and long flights. Hundreds of people, but only a few outlets to go around. We all have to charge our computers, phones, iPods, portable video game systems, cameras, whatever. There's just never enough power sources to accommodate all of us.
Some terminals have started making charging stations. Just a kiosk with a bunch of outlets on it. That's good. Though Ramstein, the military base with the most amount of passengers that come ghrough a day, doesn't have one. Doesn't really make sense, but hey, at least they have baggage carts and I can push my bags around like a homeless man everywhere I go. It's all I ever wanted.
We haven't even arrived in Afghanistan and we have already started
talking about what we plan on doing once we get back. That's the most common topic while deployed. It's right up there with, 'Was there any toilet paper in the bathroom this time?' and seeing a female who is barely passable as a female and asking your buddy, 'Wouldja?'
As a deployment goes on, the list of things people plan on doing only get more and more extravagant. Though the caliber of females in the, 'Wouldja?' game only get lower and lower. And then soon guys start noticing strapping young male Marines and ask, 'Wouldja?' and it is perfectly acceptable in a deployed location for another man to answer, 'If it got me out of here tomorrow, you bet your ass I would!'
When it finally came time to board the plane in Baltimore en route
to Germany, Turkey, and then a 2 day stop in Kyrgyzstan, it all became pretty
sad. It would be the last time we see American soil in at least 6 months.
The jetway seemed extra long with more turns than usual, but I was perfectly
fine with that. I didn't want to board the plane and I didn't want that walk
to end. I kept my head down and occasionally starred out onto the
flight line at the other planes. I felt like an inmate on death row heading
to the electric chair. I even kept my phone on just hoping someone would
call me. Whether it would be my mom or a friend or a judge pardoning me at
the last minute to get me off the deployment. 'Sergeant! The jury has
spoken! Your impression of Sloth from the Goonies WAS good enough. You're
free to go!'
I could write all day about everything airport and plane ride
related. I've written a shitload on the subject before so I will keep it short this
time and only mention something new. Though I could spend a couple days
alone just talking about why armrests facing the isle don't go up. It makes no sense!! Why just those?? It's the most important armrest! It would make getting in and out SO much easier, and if you are a big guy who's wide or just has big legs, it would give you a lot more room!
I want to know the reasoning. I want to know the reasoning of a lot of airline related things, but that's number 1. But anyway...my new gripe...the
magazine holder flap thingy. You know, that thing behind the seat that holds
magazines and the emergency procedure pamphlet with the fun looking water slide on it. That diagram actually makes me wish my plane would crash into the ocean just so I could use that slide. But it's not the flap that bothers me, but the very top of it.
There is a hard narrow plastic rod on the top of all of those things which
is perfectly centered on the middle of your knee. Holy shit balls! It is the
most annoying thing EVER! You want to stretch out, you want to put you knees
as far away from you as they can get, but you're banging against that tiny
fucking bar. They should just put that flap above the tray. Sure, magazines
and other stuff might end up higher than the head rest, but who cares. You
will have more room for your knees and not have to worry about that plastic
torture device. Ya, sometimes I question joining the military and how I
should have just stuck with my super hero alias of, 'Awesome Innovator and
Idea Man.' The only real reason I left that job is because I started to gain
weight and spandex just wasn't as flattering as it use to be.
Ok, I was wrong, I have one more airline related gripe. Flight
attendants are the only job in the world that I wish were lazy. I want them to sit down and never get up. Just give me a meal and my Sprite as I walk
on the plane and leave me the fuck alone for the next 5 hours. It's bad enough
the pilot keeps waking us up every ten minutes just to tell us which
direction the fucking wind is blowing, but then I have to deal with these
assholes running down the isle hitting everything like it's the start of the
Boston Marathon. Quit hurrying! What's the hurry?! Walk slow and watch where you're going!...and stop making it impossible for straight men to be flight attendants because I'm sure some would love to be one too!
Chapter 2- "Are We There Yet?"
Arrival at Manas Air Base, Kyrgyzstan. "Manas...where wings...take
dream." Or, something like that. Kyrgyzstan?? Where the fuck AM I?! I
thought our plane would be landing on a dirt strip surrounded by goats and
chickens, but the base is actually connected to the main commercial airport
in the capital city. So not exactly Third World...more like Two and a Half
World.
We don't know how long we will be here. We were told 2 or 3 days, but
that's 2 or 3 days too long. Our lodging was a huge tent the size of an
aircraft hanger with roughly 80 bunk beds inside. I was able to get a bottom
bed, but even though I hadn't slept for 2 days, I had to stay up for at
least 5 more hours so that I could pick up my luggage and get issued my
bullet proof vest and Chemical Warfare bag. My 4 bags and backpack I was
lugging around already just weren't nearly enough. I guess I needed another bag
and 50 pounds of body armour to wear around to toughen me up.
I HATE body armor. The Air Force, especially people in my job, don't need it. If I was
wearing a bullet proof vest and I started hearing an attack happening
nearby, I would take the vest off and run away. It would only slow me down.
I would hand it to the enemy as a decoy in hopes that they would put it on.
They would be a lot easier to kill moving at a snail's pace. That is, if they
actually knew how to put it on.
We seriously had a class about how to put the vest on.
It made me feel pretty stupid that I needed to be taught how to wear
something that didn't involve a tie. But this wasn't like the normal
kevlar vests we have all trained on before, this was a
bomb-proof/hit-by-a-train caliber vest. It's like wearing solid
metal around your chest and back. But then I had a Dumb and Dumber moment
and thought, 'But what if they shot me in the face?' ...or my arms, my
legs...or any of the other 75% of my body that isn't protected.
Vests are stupid. I was told that their main purpose is to protect you from bomb blasts and
shrapnel, but I am more likely to get injuried from a bad back or exhaustion
and dehydration wearing that vest then have a bomb land next to me. The Air
Force should just get rid of them. Vest AND helmets. Helmets for the same
reason...and because they always mess up my perfectly groomed hair. Cause
when "I" go to war, I always wanna look my most fabulous.
After two days of traveling and eating nothing but disgusting airline
meals covered in a frothy filth of God knows what, all I wanted to do once I got to Manas was to sit down in peace and take a nice healthy shit. I found the bathrooms and walked inside. I wasn't expecting the Hilton, but I at least thought these bathrooms...would be
bathrooms.
So, what is a bathroom? The easy answer is a sink and a toilet, or
maybe even just a toilet. But what a bathroom SHOULD be, at the very
LEAST...a toilet, a door or curtain, a toilet that actually FLUSHES, and a
toilet with a toilet seat to sit on. Very basic. I don't think I'm asking
for a lot here. But all of that was just way too much for Manas Air Base to
achieve. It was like walking into the bathroom from the movie Saw, but with worse
lighting. They had sinks, but I didn't care too much about them or the fact
that there was no warm water or a place to put anything. I was more
concerned with the fact that there were 6 toilets in there with door
hinges...and no doors. Most of the hinges seemed to be broken. Which would
imply that, at some point in time, a door WAS probably there. Which makes me
wonder....where did all the doors go?
If people are too lazy to fix it, that's one thing, but I would rather have a busted up door propped up against the side of a bathroom stall then no door at all. But the biggest
question I have....who is breaking all these fucking doors?!?! Was the Kool-Aid Man
deployed to Kyrgyzstan and went ape-shit in the bathroom after having his two allowed
beers?! I can understand one door being broken. I can understand two broken
and a third door in pretty bad shape, but all SIX doors busted out??
Something is just not right here. If
the military doesn't have 'bathroom door repair' in the Department of
Defense budget, I understand. But how hard and expensive is it to put up a
curtain? Something. Anything! Though I didn't witness anyone shitting out in
the open for everyone to see, there WAS shit in all the toilets and people
just pissed on top of it because none of the toilets flushed. It wasn't a
'bathroom' in the sense of the word 'bathroom,' it was just a room where you
could release your bowels.
I began to think about just how long I could go without shitting. If 3 days was even possible. I've done it before. Most guys go 3 or more days without shitting once they get to basic training and it's not a big deal. Maybe if I had someone yelling at me constantly and telling me to fold my tee shirts in 6 inch squares like a drill sergeant, I wouldn't have to shit
in Manas. But that's just not feasible. I was going to have to shit eventually. I
started asking people where there were other bathrooms and I was informed about the
porto potties. Now, I don't have anything against taking a shit in a porto
potty, but I'm a bit reluctant to shit in a porto potty near the Himalayas
in the dead of winter. It wasn't easy. But on that fateful day, I finally
earned my 'Bravery' badge from the Boy Scouts of America.
So there I was, walking over the cold icy ground in northern
Kyrgyzstan looking for a place to shit. I spotted a porto potty in the
distance. It was glistening like a star. A light was shining above it like the Luxor. As if
God Himself was directing me to drop my load in that very toilet. As I got
closer, I noticed the shiny exterior was due to the fact that the porto
potty had been frozen over. I knew this wasn't going to go well.
The porto potty was on top of a small snow hill and it was surrounded by a ring of
ice as if someone was trying to make a moat out of piss. I grabbed the icy
door handle and a shiver suddenly went through my whole body. I cautiously took a step
inside. I slipped and fell to the side and was in agony as my knee hit the
icy ground. I felt like Jesus falling down while dragging the cross. But no
way was I going to fall 2 more times. I was determined to get up and finish
what I started. I stood up fast and strong like a phoenix emerging through the ashes and I got inside and closed the door only to be surrounded by complete silence.
I thought all porto potties were the same size, but no, I got the airline version fit for a 4 year old. And I figured since I was inside something, that it would be less cold, but I was mistaken,
it actually seemed to be 10 degrees COLDER in there. Icicles of piss were
hanging down from the inside of the toilet. They looked like they have been
hanging there for years. So I started putting toilet paper down on the seat.
And like I feared, wet spots on the toilet paper immediately arose.
That's the worst. Because now you have to clean up someone else's piss
because there is no way you are sitting on that. There is nothing worse than sitting
down on a public toilet and getting wet thighs.
I usually take off my jacket or anything long sleeved when I shit, but not this time. It was too cold and there was no place to hang anything anyway. I started to remove my pants and
underwear. I did it really quick like I was ripping off a band-aid. I
just wanted to get it over with. But when I did it, it felt like I was
jumping into an icy lake with water up to my waste. I sat down and released a
large moan. Finally! NOW I can shit. All things considered, I was
pretty happy. But my gleefulness didn't last long because the porto potty was
slanted.
It wasn't on flat ground and I had to put my hands on each side of
the wall to keep myself from falling off the icy seat. I was like Captain Kirk on the
Enterprise holding on for dear life after being hit by a Klingon missile.
Then I noticed all the writings on the wall. A lot of gay slurs, complaining,
and drawings of dicks. Who keeps drawing dicks in bathroom stalls?!
But the only thing that really came to my mind was, 'Wow I never realized how many people carry Sharpies around with them.'
Out of all the writings I saw, the most alarming was one that simply said, 'I'm gay.
Hehe :)' Guess it felt good to get that off his chest. I just prayed that when I opened the door there wasn't a male soldier in an overly tight uniform starring at me smiling and nodding.
I finished up with my business and suited back up and opened the door. Luckily
no one was outside and I went straight to the other bathroom and washed my
hands and arms so hard that some hair came off. I felt so disgusted and
violated. I thought about filing a police report, but instead I just went
back to my tent and cried under my pillow until the next morning. This was now my life in Kyrgyzstan.
I didn't sleep much. You couldn't. It was just too hard. Tons of
people walking in and out, slamming doors, dragging feet, dropping shit,
farting....something will wake you. All we could do was stay up and eat. But
eating only makes you crap, and I didn't want to have to go through that
horror again. Eventually I did find some sort of normal bathroom. They were
in a big trailer. Dirty, but at least there were doors in front of the
toilets and it wasn't like shitting on a large block of ice. But, there were no locks. And none of the doors even closed all the way, as if they weren't the right size or something. The door OR the lock. Nothing matched up. What is wrong with this fucking country?!
So when you are taking a dump in these toilets you have to hold on tight and pray no one comes rushing in who really needs to shit and pulls the door open without knocking first. Can you imagine that? Think of that situation...there you are dropping a deuce holding a door
shut with both hands looking very scared, then all of a sudden some big
sweating dude who can't hold it, rips your door open, and there you are,
holding air, looking each other in the eyes. What do you say?? How do you
react?? I don't know. And I don't WANT to know. That's why I always make sure to
bring rope and duct tape with me every time I go into a public toilet so
that this never happens. I will trap myself inside that toilet and won't come
out until I'm good and ready. And by, 'good and ready' I mean, until I
finished drawing a massive cock on the wall.
All of this dangerous shitting was starting to get to me. The
bathroom should be a place you go to be alone and to get away from everyone
and everything. It just wasn't like that in Manas. It was just one crap
filled adventure after another. I don't want adventures during my bodily
functions. I want peace and quiet...and an adequate amount of toilet paper.
But my hours left there were numbered. We were able to get on a plane a day
early. We had a whole C-17 all to ourselves. We sat down feeling a bit tired and
nervous. Barely any words were spoken during the flight. We didn't
know what to expect. On our final approach into Afghanistan, the crew turned all the lights
inside the plane to red. I've never seen that before. I didn't even know there
WERE different colors. I wish they would change them more often or have a
strobe light turned on so that we could dance our way into war.
We touched down, the back doors opened, and we hear the loud engines of our plane, other planes, helicopters, and work vehicles driving around the flight line. There
was so much going on. I didn't know where to go, which direction was north,
or what I would be doing here. I stepped off the plane and thought, "Oh
shit, I'm actually in Afghanistan."
We followed someone into a building and they welcomed us and told us to have a seat. Every person we walked by were smiling, but it wasn't a friendly, "Welcome! How do you do?" smile, it was the kind of smile that said, "Wow, you motherfuckers have no idea the
kind of shit you just got yourself into. Welcome to The Suck. Also, do you
mind wiping your feet before walking in here? You're tracking mud all over
the place and we just mopped. Thanks assholes. Enjoy Bagram."
And so my deployment begins...
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