Ping Pong

When you're deployed, you are either busy or not. That sounds a lot like regular life, too, but it means something different. Often I get back from work in time to change, talk for a few minutes with the guys in my hutch, and then go to sleep. Some nights, like tonight, I get stuck doing laundry until late. Others, I get back early and can watch part of a movie, go to the gym, or play scrabble online, if the computers are working. Another favorite hobby is Ping Pong.

There is a ping pong table in our morale building which gets heavy use. Ping pong really is an Army tradition, even with other "newcomers" sneaking in with Pool and Dominoes. Those are really cultural things, though, while Ping Pong attracts Soldiers of every color and creed. I placed 3rd in the tournament we held last week, although I could have won it if my long game was better.

I found out yesterday the running event the brigade is planning is a 50 mile individual / 100 mile team event. I will be running a 50 miler in April, as part of my teams' event. I'm also competing in the Shadow Boston Marathon held here at Bagram. The plus side is we don't have to qualify. The folks in Boston complain about that, but they're not running it at 5,000 feet, so if anyone here places in the top 5%, they would have kicked some serious butt in Boston.

My knee is doing well, as is my shoulder. I am gaining more and more strength in both, and I am able to do 30 pullups (cumulative) at the gym, so I am getting much stronger. I still am not up to my pre-surgery 15 at once, and can only do about 7 straight currently, but will get back to 15-20 eventually.

That's all from Bagram.

Greed and Gifts

I can't stand made up words, especially nounds that are "verbed." The most common one this time of year is "gifting" which isn't a word. It doesn't exist. Just because some famous people or ads quoted it, doesn't make it right. So stop saying GIFTING before I gift you a dictionary to the face.

So another person died at a Black Friday event. This time it was a senior citizen (barely old enough to qualify) who had heart trouble and passed out at a Target. Nobody stopped to help, some even stepped over him as he lay on the floor. Finally an off duty ER nurse and EMT found him and attempted CPR, but he died anyway. I think we should boycott Target for allowing such a thing to happen. Wrongful death suits aren't enough - the company which allows for such blind greed to overcome the human element doesn't deserve to operate. I am reminded of the old proverb, if money is all you care about, money is all you've ever get.

More and more I do not understand the selfishness and greediness of our culture. If we are struggling to pay mortgages we can't afford and drive cars we can't pay for, why do we rush out to buy gifts and packages we don't likely need? Wouldn't a better gift to your family be a debt free rest of their lives filled with love and kindness? Too bad love and kindness never earned money. It is a fallen world where real virtues are replaced by sinful vices. Something makes me think Jesus mentioned this kind of blasphemy when he discussed the "Unforgiveable Sin," although I'm sure one of my pastor/chaplain readers can speak better about that than I.

I long sometimes for a life separated from the selfish, greedy, self-destructive behaviors of our culture. It is at times cause for me to doubt my patriotism for this country, if our country's ideals no longer support the ideals they originally stood for. Why continue to be part of a system that is so corrupt and rotted it confuses the positive trait of good stewardship with blind, furious grabbing at a store for plastic clam-wrapped figurines and gizmos?

I am more and more sickened by our national behavior. Maybe seeing it from farther away gives me a different perspective, but it makes me feel like Jonah, not wanting to minister or witness to such a disgraced people, rather wanting to leave them to their ultimate doom. But God makes it clear, His concern is for all people, even those we do not see s "saveable."

I'm thankful God sent Jonah to me, so I wouldn't be lost in Nineveh. Now I have to try to bring others out with me.

What's a Hash, anyway?

Thanksgiving came and went here, I can say confidently as it is almost midnight. I was given the morning off, so I stayed in bed until around 0930. I don't usually sleep past 0530, but I did enjoy not having to get up, generally being lazy. I went in to work just after lunch and had a lunch/dinner combo with my work buddy around 1500.

Otherwise, it was a quiet day, with not much going on. It was nice to have a light day, although there was plenty of things for me to do to keep me busy in the afternoon. Most of my energy is focused on some individual travel plans for some folks going on special missions. I don't usually plan and manage this kind of thing, but it fell to me. Thanks to my in depth knowledge of the Army travel system, I am really the best suited to work this issue this time.

Every Thursday night the Brigade Commander sponsors a running club. It is a nice opportunity to go run when I otherwise wouldn't. Lately we've been doing what's called "Hashing" which involves a small group (2-3) called Hares running 10 minutes ahead of the rest of the group, called Hounds. The Hares place certain marks on the ground to lead the Hounds on the trail, and they all end up at an unknown location. If the Hounds catch the Hares, there's unpleasantness to be had, so the Hares are motivated to stay ahead of the pack. Both tonight and last week I was one of the Hares.

I enjoy the runs, but am upset that so few people participate. We only go 2 miles or so, and it really is a bit of fun. So many folks here act and think like they are civilians, it is frustrating. When I go to knock on someone's door at 1730 and there is no one there because they all went to dinner, all at once, while I have to schedule my meals and breaks to ensure there is coverage on the battle desk, it rubs me the wrong way. I am one of very few people in the brigade to ever actually leave any FOB for any reason, and one of even a fewer number to leave on combat patrols. Add in the experience of engaging enemy fighters, receiving and returning fire, and I think I can count on one hand. It is hard to be in a unit where so many don't understand, or even attempt to understand, what it actually means to fight a war. For most, they think physically being in Afghanistan makes them "War Veterans" when I know better. Proximity to war doesn't make you a warrior and wearing a uniform doesn't make you a Soldier.

Everyday I am convinced a little more I do not want to go to another logistics type unit after this. I don't think I could stand being around another unit of pseudo-civilians again and leave with my sanity or self-respect intact. I hate being the "loggy" or the guy who is so far removed he doesn't even realize there's fighting going on. It gives me perspective for sure, but it's not a situation I want to repeat.

I was talking with one of the NCOs here about it, and how I am so much more at ease in a front-leaning unit, where there is more effect on the battle. If I can influence the fight directly, I go to bed at night knowing I stopped the enemy or did something that is part of something real, something good. Tpying up presentations and slides isn't just boring staff work, and after a while, it gets to be that you're more focused on the slides looking good than what the slides represent. I hate that most - you lose sight of reality as the troops are experiencing it.

I was able to call home today, for free, thanks to a big business sponsoring us for Thanksgiving. I guess the occupy folks want the big business (who enabled me to call home) to stop supporting the troops and go out of business. I really don't get the occupy protesters, because the whole thing is so short sighted and foolish, from an economics standpoint. Putting big business out of business wrecks the economy, or maybe we didn't learn anything when the whole thing started with the crash of several large firms in the first place. Certainly all the people who lost their jobs because the big businesses fell apart might still remember that.

Too much complaining. I am thankful the DFAC serves tuna at every meal. I am getting my fill of it, for sure.

IDF

Bagram is a pretty large base. You'd think that would make it a pretty large target. I'm sure there are insurgent pipe dreams to spectacularly attack Bagram, but no. Attacking large bases is such a huge risk for them, unless they mass forces, they likely won't accomplish much. They're fighting a war of attrition, and them losing 15 fighters and only wounding 2 Soldiers doesn't meet that end. They usually stick to the smaller bases and such.

That doesn't mean we're not occasionally hit with IDF. IDF is the military acronym for Indirect Fire. It encompasses rockets, mortars, and the like. Technically, it is anything that lands that isn't aimed directly at the base, like lobbing a water balloon over the fence. You can do it with accuracy if you are good, but it's different than chucking the thing at your buddy's face.

Since my time in Iraq, I've learned to identify the various sounds before, during, and after an IDF attack. The most common one, of course, is the boom. I can differentiate a rocket explosion from a mortar explosion and tell you the millimeter (mm) size from listening to the sound of the boom. I also know the whistle of mortars screaming in, the whoosh of a rocket flying by, and the subtle boom of a mortar launch or a rocket motor igniting. Usually I can tell the kind of fire as well, whether it's target practice, aiming one at a time to get the shot group right, or what is called "Fire for Effect" which translates into, your aim is good, so fire everything you have until you run out.

Bagram has only had one IDF attack while I've been here. That hasn't stopped me from hearing the whistle of a mortar or the screech of a rocket everywhere. It's amazing how you get conditioned for those specific sounds. The biggest culprit is jet engines - they whistle for 2 seconds before they start up, and it is exactly like the whistle of an incoming round. I have more than once jumped out of bed to take cover, only to realize it's just a plane. My peers don't do this, partly because they were never shelled, and the ones that did experience it, were never to the extent we were. It was routine to get hit 5-6 times a day, every day in Iraq. Sometimes this last for weeks at a time. I lost count of the near misses I had, at times making me glad I'm not a cat, because my 9 lives are long since gone. Stories are available upon request.

Anyway, I'll likely continue diving under my bed for planes and reacting to other sounds here for quite a while. It took me 2 years to just get used to fireworks after my last deployment (to this day I am uncomfortable with them, don't like them anymore, and prefer to not be around when they go off), so I doubt it is something I will stop doing in the near future. It keeps me safer, I guess.

On The Road Again

Today I traveled to a far flung little outpost about 150 miles from Bagram. I went to deliver some training materials, do a meet and greet of the leadership there, as well as identify their needs against what I can provide for them. It was a generally productive trip, although it took all day (0200-1845).

This trip was special in that it was the first mission off-base I've been on this deployment. My job does not provide for me to get off base that much, so much planning is required on my part to do so, and not just for "good times" but for legitimate needs.

This was also different because we traveled by ground convoy one of the more dangerous routes in our sector. It is dangerous not only due to the IED and RPG (Rocket Propelled Grenade, or a shoulder fired missile) threat, but also because it goes thru an insane series of twists and turns, called switchbacks, and has a very steep and sheer drop of the side of the road, at some points over 1500 feet straight down. The roads are narrow, and 100% focus is needed in order to prevent a catastrophe.

It is a very different perspective to go on a mission with time to think about it. I was rather uneasy about it beforehand, which is very unusual for me. However, I think that's based on the difference between rolling as a responder and doing a planned movement. When on call, there's already a crisis, I'm hyped up because I've only had 15 minutes before we're out the door, and I'm full aware I'm going to a serious and potentially deadly scenario, which could end badly everytime. With this, the focus is altered, and I find myself not liking being on the other end, although familiarity with the routes, and where the threats are helps ease my mind.

It is unlikely I will be heading off the base with any frequency, but I do plan to travel about once a month, or once every 6 weeks. I do have need to visit outlying locations, and air travel is not always practical. Also, if I stay behind a desk, I grow stale, and when I'm managing the tactical operations, it is important I not only understand the mission first hand, but I understand the Soldiers executing the mission as well.

Our 5-6 hour drive each way was uneventful, although we did see some interesting sights. One the way back to Bagram, our truck's AC and fan died right at the start, so we sweated and drank lots of water the entire way back. Since it was a high threat area, we stayed buttoned up the whole way. When we dismounted after arriving at Bagram, a thick cloud of steam rolled out the back of the truck when it met the significantly cooler nighttime air. It made me laugh.

I'm feeling a little tired after today, and ran for a short distance this evening. I had to move a bit after sitting stagnant in a truck for 11 hours today, but it was a very short distance. I'll resume my normal regimen tomorrow. For now, it is late and time for bed. Until next time...

What makes a Hero?

I've often had a problem with the overuse of the word "Hero" in our national lexicon. It seems more now it is a buzzword thrown around by politicians who want to be supportive of the military (either genuinely or from self-serving motives). It also seems to be a favorite word for those who don't know any other way to support military and civil servants like police and firefighters. However, I feel it is abused, to the detriment of those who deserve the title.

Popular to contrary belief, I hold not every dead Soldier is a hero. Simply not living isn't heroic, especially since most combat deaths are due to no particular action of the deceased. The problem is, when EVERYONE is a hero, NO ONE is; the word becomes devalued. I also understand hero is subjective, but there has to be a line somewhere, where common sense dictates and the title of Hero remains sacred.

So I pose this quesiton: what makes a Hero? You'll notice I didn't say "What is a hero" or "What do you think are the qualities of a hero" because Heroes are made. To become a hero is not a passive event, but an act or series of acts that raise an individual above his or her peers. I also didn't say, "What does a hero do" because the subjectivity of the word would make it impossible to discern.

I will reduce validity by injecting my own opinion up front. A hero is a person who is confronted by a situation bigger than them, who rises to the challenge and overcomes, for the betterment of those around him, at the potential and likely risk to himself. A hero doesn't fumble blindly into hero-dom. A hero isn't a skilled and trained man who only executes to standard. A hero isn't a firefighter who puts out a fire or a Special Forces Soldier who single handedly takes a machine gun nest and kills 5 enemy fighters or a police officer who arrests a bank robber. A hero is a 9 year old who dials 911 and then re-enters the house to pull her parent from a burning building, an army mechanic who is wounded by shrapnel and dies on a machine gun defending his comrades' evacuation, or a teacher who stops an at gunpoint mugging of an elderly man. Simply doing your job isn't merit for "hero," athough doing your job to such a degree as to meet the above criteria is.

Heros, therefore, are made by the events around them and the choices they make.

Some may not like my definition. Many will feel cheated, if they are unable to call every man and woman in a uniform a hero. But let's expand our terminology and keep the word hero special. Instead, let's take the time to differentiate: let us instead say we have a deep respect for those in uniform, and reserve awarding the title HERO to those among that already special group for those who exemplify the most selfless and courageous of them, lest we lose the meaning of hero and the concept of Heroism falls further into the sands of time.

Tin Roof and Days Off

It rained last night, but not until around 1030PM. This was fortunate because we have a running club that runs from 930 to 1030, so I was back in my hutch before it started to rain. We live in a little building with a tin roof and wood walls, so the rain rapped nicely on the tin roof, making it very pleasant. I can understand what some Vietnam vets say when they reference the beauty of the country, despite the war around them.

Yesterday morning was very hazy, so much so we couldn't see the mountains until afternoon. Even then, I wondered if I was seeing the clouds or the tops of the mountains. They are majestic, with their snow peaks. I sometimes am intimidated by high mountains, but for some reason, I can enjoy the peaks surrounding us without any other notice.

I received my MENSA card in a pacakge from home yesterday, so I am now a card-carrying MENSAN. I found one other member here on the staff. He works in the Commander's office, and he is indeed pretty smart.

Today is Friday, and most folks have the morning off. Not my section. Because you can't just pause the war, something we joke about frequently, our stations have to be manned all the time. We take different mornings off, so everyone gets a day. I mentioned this when first in Manas, and several others didn't quite believe me. "I, personally, need one day a week I can look foward to that I can sleep in or do anything I want, at the very least for half the day." Now that I have put it into practice, the others are seeing the benefit of it. I guess when God made the Sabbath, He kinda knew what He was doing!

Sunday, befittingly, is my half day off, however, I gave it to one of the Soldiers this week. Every week, we have a challenge for who can read the large map in our CP and find certain locations fastest, and various other challenges. Normally, the winner gets an extra day off on Thursday, but that wasn't possible this week, so I gave up my day so they could continue the weekly challenge and still get the day off. Initially, one of the Soldiers was being generous and giving up her day even if she won. Not any more; she's realizing the benefit of having a half day.

Ramp Ceremony and Multiple KIA

Last weekend there was a car bombing (VBIED - vehicle borne IED) in Kabul against one of our convoys. If you read the news, it was the one reported on with 13-14 KIA. It was huge here, although I know even big events like that don't garner much attention in the states. I understand the mindset though, since this is combat. If 14 people had been killed in a VBIED in Atlanta or Cleveland or DC, it would be huge, it wouldn't make sense. The reality is, the American media understands one thing correctly; in war, people die. Just because someone dies in war, doesn't make it a breaking news events.

Since I manage the tactical operations of our unit, coordinating the attack assets and other special items like satellites and aviation and such fell to me, as well as ensuring the unit on the ground was able to fight, and didn't have to worry about annoying staff officers calling asking for updates. I reigned in our own staff several times, and it was a long day, squelching the rumr intelligence (RUMINT) and false reporting. I set myself up as the sole authority on accurate information, and was able to keep the troops on scene focused on the fight.

The next evening, the remains were fully processed here on Bagram and ready to fly back home. This whole process is called a Dignified Transfer, when the transfer cases (coffins) are driven from the Mortuary Affairs Collection Point (MACP) to the flightline and onto the bird (airplane). This is also called a Ramp Ceremony. After attending dozens of events, ceremonies, memorials, and such, some for strangers, others for those I knew well, some whose deaths I was closer to than I ever imagined I would be while deployed last time, I vowed to myself I wouldn't go to another one. I told my boss here I've buried enough friends, I don't need to stand in a formation to make myself feel closer to combat, especially when I'm one of only a few in the brigade to actually have faced it. He was receptive. However, I found myself not only in formation for the ceremony, but I also was involved in the transfer itself for 9 of the 13 we loaded onto the plane. I am pretty stoic in general, emotionally, so I guess it makes sense for someone like me to be involved in that situation, no matter how I feel about it overall.

Everyone has different ways of dealing with that. Some guys talk about the incident in detail, what they experience on the day it happens, what they ate, how many steps they took walking into the command post (TOC) on first recall. Others avoid it as much as possible and make forced smalltalk. One I know made nervous, unrelated jokes, while trying not to look at the bird or transfer cases, but catching anxious glances every so often. As for myself, it is something just as natural as anything else. After leading so many post blast investigations, instinct kicked in and I analyzed the burned out vehicle, identified what happened to the folks inside, and so on. We all have our coping mechanisms.

My troops are doing well. I have staff of 3, not including another Officer who I manage in a peer to peer relationship. We perform our rather mundane job pretty easily, and I've started looking into getting some schools and classes done while here. I also work out twice a day. It is pretty slow when we're not managing an event that ends the world for some families back home. Bagram is large and generally pretty safe, and I run the perimeter once a week. Otherwise, not much to report. I think the next blog will be about the weather.