afghanidan.blogspot.com
AfghaniDan A young man's strange, erotic journey from Milan to Minsk. About Me Name:Capt Dan Location:Khost, Afghanistan The details of my life are quite inconsequential...
Powered by Blogger Tuesday, July 04, 2006 Happy 4th of July! I'll get those backlogged photos up at a later date, but felt the need to first show proof to my family that the flags I'll bring back were proudly flown over this FOB in Khost on Independence Day 2006. Sgt Tim Sander is the young journalist (constantly reminding me that I've got at least a decade on many of the warriors out here) helping me raise the flag outside our operations center the other day. Saluting Old Glory, the Marine Corps, and a job well done. I've been particularly enjoying the fact that every vehicle or runner who comes up the road sees this Marine flag, designating the location of the only one on this base.
There was a constant pace of activity as Marines and soldiers (even the occasional sailor or airman), supplies and weapons, building materials and everything else were shuttled to points throughout the mountains of Kunar in support of the massive operation... And man, did they rearrange the dirt of the place every time they did! Morning sun created a daily haze over the valley, which would then burn off. It was already heating up significantly over the first few days of the operation, which still featured some bitter cold nights. Afghan workers were signed up for each day's work, which in this case meant retrieving contents of an aerial resupply drop. It was quite an event - the drop, that is - though organizing locals was always an event as well. Drifting to the earth (nowhere near the giant zone marked by green smoke and orange tarps) were the bundles, bringing needed supplies for the planned MEDCAP and humanitarian aid distribution. No cows were harmed in the conduct of this aerial resupply. So goes the motto of our trusty payments officer, Al the Sicilian. He had a ton of great stories, including golfing with every recent Commandant of the Marine Corps and lots of other top brass. Which is funny, because it really is fair to say that he's "connected." Tim Kelly offers to show some young Afghans the photo he took of them, to no avail. though they trusted in Allah much more for protection than we did, eschewing the double layer of blast wall. Much to my amusement, one unit brought along a little friend. Unfortunately, the hairy biter was deemed a bit of a health hazard and had to be sold to the Afghan soldiers... So here he is getting a bite to eat with his new friends, outside the wire this time. Monkeys actually seem to be everywhere in this country, though they're not employed as trained killers as often as I imagined. Far more common, and far less entertaining, were the cows that wandered through the outpost. It was when there were no herders in sight, like this time, that the scene became puzzling. there were a few times they'd have to be led on their way by Marines. All this is probably not that interesting to any of you who grew up with cows around, but for me it was hilarious. The first patients arrive as the medical tents were now open for business. A team of doctors, nurses and medical support flew in from Bagram to provide the staff needed to host such a large clinic. One of the battalion's mortar teams poses for a group shot. They kept us, and the smaller ground units, safe by suppressing the enemy, often striking their movements late at night. Great weapon to have on your side, though when there's no heads up, nothing quite prepares you for that eardrum-shattering shot out if you're dozing a couple hundred meters away!
Morning shines its light on the strangest outpost in Afghanistan, as Afghan soldiers perched on top of one lumber pile look out. which was more like cats being tortured as a rythm-less class takes drum lessons. The command post, now properly adorned with the battalion shield, was the center of activity as local elders began to arrive by the dozens for a large shura, or what we would later call the SuperShura. Though it definitely be cheesy, I thought I'd pose with the backdrop of the heart of the valley, whose villages were represented at the large gathering of leaders. I later showed this photo to Mike, the interpreter in sweatshirt and ballcap, and he said, "Yeah, that colonel likes to shake hands a lot." A couple hundred gents wound up attending this meeting, dressed in all variations of manjammies and beard/hair dye (red is clearly the most popular). for the governor was taking his sweet time getting to the helicopter that would take him here, I later learned. Though it seems like a ton of pictures of the same event, believe me - I only selected relatively few. This 'amphitheater' had been hastily shaped by a couple of the towering timber stacks. Each time a new contingent of important or self-important people, or another gaggle of elders, arrived the crowd would undergo another round of musical chairs in order to strictly enforce priority seating. Get those shawls over your faces, because every few minutes there were the repeated intrusions of those pesky blackhawks, which - as we were below the landing zone - kicked up the whole dirt of the hillside into our faces. We thought there'd be enough punch and cookies for all, but you each brought a dozen friends, so you'll just have to accept cash instead." I learned quickly that the seats on the side are coveted, for the ease of spitting off to the side instead of just down, like old man firebeard here is busy doing. Some of the key leaders huddled for more substantial decisions after much of the SuperShura had dispersed, such as where to go for lunch (seriously). When it was time to go, there was the standard way home for some...
It wasn't hard to be up that early when sleeping on a rock river bed anyway, so I didn't mind much. A couple of these trucks would be part of my latest hitched convoy, from the Pech River to a just-established outpost in the Korengal Valley. These colorful beasts, decorated as festively as possible, transport anything and everything for the Afghans and often for us. Meanwhile, the river crossing still continues, as some vehicles remained on the other side for security overnight. Naturally, in no time the local population had turned out to watch the show. Villagers had to be reminded to stand back from the vehicles about every 5 seconds, as usual. I can't blame them for being curious though - we were in one long train of vehicles. this guy was a complete riot, raised in Sicily and later all over Europe, he was one of the unlikeliest Marines you'd ever come across. Naturally for a Sicilian, he handled payments to the locals. As noted before on this journal, sometimes that IS the road. It gives a pretty decent perspective on how wedged in between the banks we were. A few tight twists and turns and we were out of the creek and heading up past large compounds into the entrance of the valley... I was stunned at how close the Afghans would walk by our lumbering vehicles, although there were clearly weren't many options on these slopes. How larger jagged rocks improve it, I'm not sure, but they sure were working back-breakingly hard. I thought I'd travelled some harrowing ones before in this country, but this took the "Please watch the edge!" On the passenger side, we'd guide to the rock wall until we were scraping it in order to avoid drifting the other direction. As with elsewhere in the valley, terraced fields could be found way, way up there. actually we took the high while our jingles took the low when it split, so they had to climb back up to re-join the convoy. I liked how the roads just snaked away from this vantage point. There's my trusty gunner and the vehicle that took me up this last leg. After a few hours we'd reached the lumber yard, where the Marine battalion had set up an outpost a couple of days earlier. A view of the emerging outpost, looking up from the one flat area. It was a crazy scene, with shelters and lean-tos springing up all over the hillside, like an Old West mining camp. The center of a sprawling lumber yard for years, this building was heavily reinforced...
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