Rest in Peace, Harley

So sad for the Johnson-Bickfords.
Thought about your family all day today...

Kandahar Air Field

I am currently stationed at Kandahar Air Field otherwise known as KAF. The base is located about 15 miles southeast of Kandahar City. KAF has a large single airstrip and is supposed to be the busiest single runway airport in the world with 5000 flights daily. I believe it, given all of the air traffic I hear throughout the night. NATO fighter jets take off constantly as do helicopters. Larger military and commercial jets take off occasionally. The headquarters for KAF is located in a building on the airstrip known as TLS. This stands for Taliban's Last Stand. Kandahar was Taliban's last place of resistance in 2001 until the Marines took the airport. It's interesting walking through TLS as you can still see the bullet holes in the walls and a shattered wall thanks to a larger round.

There are currently ~30,000 people on KAF consisting of soldiers, sailors, air force and marines from nations all over the world as well as civilian contractors. It's basically the population of University Place plopped onto a built-up airfield. The place is hot, dusty and brown. A clean vehicle looks completely out of place. Whoever landed the deal for Toyota here made a mint. There are Toyota Hilux trucks and Hilux Surf SUVs everywhere, 2/3 with the steering wheel on the right.

My next posts will describe the sights, sounds and smells of KAF.

The picture was taken on the four minute walk from my billets to the DFAC for a meal.
The one story buildings are the mods were we live. The mountains in the background separate KAF from Kandahar City.

Sorry about the lack of posts!

All is well although somewhat mundane.
I'm caught in "Groundhog's Day" here. Up at the same time (for the most part), eat at the same DFAC, go to work and sit at the same desk doing the same type of work day after day. Eat lunch, work, go "home", workout in the same gym, eat dinner and sleep.
There's little to change the monotony. I do get to go to a Preventive Medicine meeting on Thursday afternoons. Actual medicine!! Well, sort of. Talks have turned to the effluent coming from the "Poop-Pond" and how we are discharging nastiness onto the Afghanistan country-side. Afghanis have discovered that fruits and vegetables grow quite well in that area!

Anyway, I'll get to more frequent blogging shortly.
I leave you with wisdom from the side of the box of Emirates Natural Drinking Water (our bottled water)...

PURE - Ingredient Water Purity
FRESH - Safe, Reliable & Sustainable Fresh Water
NATURAL - Recovery of Valuable By-Products
ORIGINAL - With Cutting-Edge Technology
TASTE - Proven & Preferred by People

"So I got that goin' for me, which is nice"

25cents and a bottle of Emirates water for first to name that quote

My Living Quarters

I live in a "mod". This is a fixed structure (not a tent) that has 7 individual rooms that sleep 4 people each. I have 2 room-mates with capacity for 1 more. As you can tell from the picture, we have single beds. Lower ranks have the dreaded bunk beds and the same size room sleeps 8. I have a bed, an "Ikea-like" wardrobe and night stand.
There is also 1 desk that my two room-mates use (they offered to share, but they were here first). There is also a small fridge and a microwave. The room is not uncomfortable, just functional. At the end of the hallway is a good sized latrine (bathroom) with 4 sinks and 3 showers. I've never had to wait for a shower. Not much else to comment on except the rooms have internet for $70/month for the "Gold" package that moves along at dial-up speed. I may try the "Platinum" package next month for $30 more to see if there's any difference. There's not much to do in the room except sleep, internet, read or watch movies on the laptop.

We Have Lift OFF!!!!

The small-pox scab, I mean...
It's only been 3 1/2 weeks!

Repatriation Ceremony

Our Medical Director has asked all available personnel to attend repatriation ceremonies when they occur. I went to my first just over one week ago and I was going to write a post on it. Instead I found a commentary by Lt. Col. Christopher O. Darling, 451st Expeditionary Missions Support Group Deputy Commander, that expresses my emotions exactly...

3/5/2010 - Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan -- Before I even got to work yesterday, I knew there was going to be a Ramp ceremony. The route to the U.S. Air Force compound goes by the base commander's building, and flags flying at half-staff will tell you in an instant that the Coalition has suffered a loss in combat. On this day, the word went out a U.S. Marine was killed in action in Marjah, and the dignified transfer of remains ceremony would take place on the aircraft parking apron at 2 p.m.

It felt almost hot on the ramp. Even though it's still February in Afghanistan, the afternoon temperature was in the 70's as personnel began to gather for this event. Soldiers, sailors, Marines and Airmen from the United States and from all the countries of the coalition began to arrive in groups in order to send home the fallen Marine. People stood around at the edge of the ramp waiting for the appointed time, while the grey-painted C-17 transport with a Dover Air Force Base, Del., tail flash squatted with open cargo bay doors on the ramp. Normal conversations were still taking place throughout the crowd, but they gradually began to die away as the atmosphere of the event began to infiltrate among the gathered military troops.

Finally, a contingent of Marines formed up and marched to the rear of the C-17 to form the inner cordon of honor. Then formations of troops of all services and all nations began to build and march into place behind the Marines. Australians, French, Dutch, and British were all there; hundreds of military personnel in total. The sight of the British sergeant major with some sort of ornamental cudgel fashioned from a thorny tree branch reminded me of their long military traditions and that they in particular have been in this place a lot longer than we have. The British army was deployed and fighting in Afghanistan 170 years ago. Then a US Army sergeant major stepped forward and issued instructions to my formation, pronouncing us the "VIP" formation of E-9s and O-5s and above--a label everyone present recognized as patently absurd, because clearly the troops in the inner cordon, not the brass, were the only VIPs present.

In any case, we marched to the rear of the aircraft, took our positions along with the rest of the gathered troops, and assumed Parade Rest.

A command rang out, and the formation snapped to attention as a Marine color guard marched forward. A Navy chaplain stepped to a lectern and began to speak, and the massed personnel strained to hear the words, but it was difficult. The auxiliary power unit on the C-17 emitted a constant whine.

The buzz of two fighter jets taking off on the runway added to the background. And the roar of arriving cargo planes also intruded, but this is an active airfield in combat, and missions cannot be stopped.

Troops in the field are in contact with the enemy, and close air support missions have to take off. Helicopters clatter around constantly.

Transport aircraft completing journeys of 10,000 miles or more arrive overhead, low on fuel, and urgently have to land. Kandahar Airfield never closes, not even for a ceremony like this. The Chaplain's words provided some fragments of information, and we all took in what we could: United States Marine ... 24 years old ... Camp Lejeune, North Carolina ... leaves behind a young wife.

Later we would read reports from the field that it may have been a single rifle shot from very long range that felled this Marine, but we can't be sure.

A sand-colored Mine-resistant, Ambush-Protected vehicle drove slowly to the back of the cordon and stopped. These MRAPs are 40,000 pound trucks that constitute the standard for combat vehicles in today's world, and it was fitting a vehicle like this rather than some sort of ambulance was chosen to transport this warrior. The casket was passed from the back of the truck into the hands of the detail chosen from his fellow Marines.

Another command rang out, and the multi-national formation snapped to attention and right hands were raised in unison, and held, in salute.

Several long moments passed, with no sound except the snap of the color guard flags in the wind and the whine of the jet's APU. My hand is at the brim of my hat now, and I can see nothing to my right, although I know the detail must surely be approaching. And then suddenly the six-man detail appears before me, marching slowly and carrying the casket of one of America's best on their shoulders.

The casket is wrapped by the stars and stripes, folded and pressed and cinched tight at the corners, and the long aluminum box is barely disturbed by the footsteps of the Marines as they carry it smoothly and gingerly to the waiting aircraft. The flag is startling to see, its colors seeming impossibly bright compared to the dusty tan and grey and drab green background of this place.

The second man in the detail on my side is visibly stricken, his face a mask of grief as he carries his comrade on the first leg of his journey home. As the detail passes in front of me at a distance of maybe 20 feet, I watch the second man and I see that the arm of the Marine opposite him in the detail is extended beneath the casket. That man's hand is in the center of the second Marine's back, clenching his uniform blouse in his fist, physically holding him upright even as they walk together carrying their burden.

It's a sight I'll never forget. And then I'm physically reminded of the anger and hurt I feel for this warrior and his comrades and his family. It will always affect me, no matter how many of these ceremonies I have witnessed since 2004.

Seeing a sight like those Marines carrying their comrade, that's when you feel your jaw take a set; that's when you feel your throat constrict; that's when it suddenly gets hard to breathe.

And then the detail passes into the aircraft and is out of sight. The whir of the electric motors raising and closing the aircraft cargo ramp adds to the sounds of the scene, followed by the thumps and clangs of the ramp toes as they fall with a clatter as the ramp raises past the vertical. The electric motor stops, and suddenly the ceremony is over.
The formation faces to the aircraft for one final salute, and then we all disperse and walk away lost in our own thoughts until the next time we have to again gather on The Ramp.

Mike again...
I remember the details completely. 20 year old Marine from Minnesota, stationed in Hawaii leaving behind his parents and young wife. My throat tightened and a tear dropped as the casket passed by. Taken far too young...

Kabul

Again, we are up here for various meetings and conferences.

Day 1: Travel here and an informal meeting with an Air Force Colonel and Canadian 1 star General. We discussed various topics regarding RC(S) as well as challenges training the ANA (Afghan National Army) and ANP (Afghan National Police) in medical issues. Had a nice dinner at the DFAC and good night's sleep at the "Kabul Palace". Slept on the bottom bunk, Ewan got a single bed.

Day 2: Meeting at the Ministry of Public Health (picture of his desk) at 1000 where Ewan discuss indoor air polution. The number one cause of mortality in AFG is acute respiratory illnesses. The cause of this is indoor air polution. The majority of the Afghan population lives in huts. The have an open fire in the huts for heat, light and cooking and there is no ventilation. They use biomass as fuel. This includes wood (if they can find it), dried dung and poppy stems after the harvest. As resources have become scarce, they are now using strips of tire and plastic water bottles as fuel. Imagine living in an unventilated hut surrounded by this noxious smoke day after day. As a solution, Ewan wants to investigate fuel-efficient, culturally-sensitive stoves that are ventilated. This has been done in China and India for years. He presented his case to the minister's aid and it went very well.

After lunch, we met with USAid at the US Embassy to discuss medical seminars in the provinces. USAid is an organization founded by JFK to manage donations for humanitarian use. Big, big player here. Fortunately, this meeting that went well also. Not much to do after that so I caught up on more internet stuff (e-mail, reviewing work sent to me from UP Clinic, etc). Moved my stuff to the top bunk so COL Bricknell (our boss) could have the bottom bunk when he arrived later.

Day 3: Meeting in the "beer garden" (in quotes because General Order #1 is no alcohol. That's a pic of Ewan) at 1000 with more military folks to coordinate medical efforts in the upcoming Kandahar push. This lasted until 1130 then off to lunch. In the afternoon had a medical conference where representatives from various humanitarian organizations spoke. Had to leave the conference somewhat early to catch the up-armored "shuttle" back to Kabul Airport. Once there, I got my billeting that was in the "transient tents" - top bunk again and the mattress was a bit dodgey (the Brits language is rubbing off on me!). They had computers in the MWA tent so I was able to call Jolene on her cellphone via Skype. Quite nice as we hadn't talked in days (sorry I woke you so early during spring break!) We have another seminar tomorrow that is strictly military medical support.

Day 4: Up, showered, ate breakfast and off to the seminar. The morning was spent with various military speakers discussing issues coming "down" to the regional commands and the afternoon was spent with the 5 regional commands briefing "up". Our brief was given by a medops (medical operations) Captain from Scotland. There were at least 3 generals present at various times. This ended at 1700 and I spent the rest of the early evening catching up on e-mails and reading about the Mariner's loss at Oakland. Snagged the bottom bunk as most of the folks left. My flight back to Kandahar leaves at 0725 with 0525 check in. Should get back to KAF by 0900, Inshallah!

Day 5: Up at 0500 and off to the airfield. Boarded the C-130 through the rear ramp and took off for Kandahar at 0815. Arrived an hour later to 85 degree temps. Much, much warmer in the south. Got to 90 degrees today. Spent the rest of the day
working out, showering, lunch and then 4-5 hours at RC(S).

Smallpox watch: For those interested, nearly 2 weeks and counting since innoculation and the scab hasn't fallen off yet! I can post a picture if you'd like. Let me know in the comments ;-]