I seem to have only been using this blog to complain so I will change direction and give an update of the last month or so’s latest adventures. Hmm….where do I begin? I will start out with my dismounted patrol with the French Foreign legion, and then go to the helicopter adventure around Afghanistan.
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| Pulling security while waiting for an IED to be cleared |
I thought I was finished with dismounted patrols in Afghanistan after my romp in southern Tagab where I talked to villagers and took down Taliban night letters and the elders were literally terrified to point of uncontrollable shaking to talk to Coalition Forces (IED and small-arms fire attacks a week later in the villages) before I went on R&R. Boy was I wrong. Last month our new French counterparts (who happened to be French Foreign Legion) arrived and to be a good neighbor I briefed them about an area when I got wind of where they were going. Initially I went to brief my specific counterpart, but it grew to me briefing the Platoon and Company leaders, and eventually the Commander. I must have made an impression because he invited me to go out with them on the mission. Dismounted combat patrol with the Légion étrangère , do You think I would turn that down ? Hell no. I still had to ask my commander for permission since it’s not really my job to do this. Surprisingly he said yes. I was elated.
Two other American guys and I set off with the Legion to conduct a key leader engagement (KLE) with local Afghans that were trained to provide their own security. Sweet huh? We did not get the memo that the dismounted movement would be 11 km. You are probably thinking that’s only 6.84 miles, that doesn’t sound hard. Let me put this into perspective my full kit IOTV/body armor, 6x M4 magazines, personal medic kit, M9, and advanced combat helmet weighs about 80lbs. That is about half of my body weight. The M4 rifle with everything we put on it weighs about 9.5 lbs. So 11 kms kinda sucks balls to trek around in Afghanistan.
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| Agrocrag Afghanistan (This is the nice way down) |
6 km into the journey, we had to climb this ginormous mountain to get to the KLE. If you grew up watching Nickelodeon in the 90s, then you may have watched a show called GUTS. At the end of the show the final challenge was a giant foam mountain called the Agrocrag that kids would have to climb to achieve greatness. Our mountain was not foam, we were kitted up, and we still had to trek back to the VICs (vehicles), and there is no greatness for us (nor do we expect or ask for it). I will be completely happy if I never have to walk through another Karez system. A karez is an irrigation system that Afghans use to water their fields and poppy. We goes through the narrow (6-8 inches across) mud barriers that separate the fields. This is probably the most vulnerable we are during the march to snipers since we are looking at the ground to avoid IEDs and busting our ass during the worst balancing act in full battle rattle. Thank God, the Legion NCO found a quicker route back because at the final click (km) my legs started locking up from dehydration. Stupid me for packing for a fight and not enough water, IT AFGHANISTAN for crying out loud. 5 clicks later and we are back to the VICs mounted up and went home. I can check operation with Foreign Legion off of my bucket list. I am not going to lie, it was horrible, but it was a once in a lifetime experience that you feel good about after you have done it. Plus, not many Air Force dudes, much less American Military guys can say they did it. WINNING.
Ha. You though I was done because I used my closing catch phrase shamelessly stolen from Charlie Sheen but that was more of an intermission “WINNING”. Go grab a beer (have one for me) and some snacks because I will be writing about the story where I almost died on Memorial Day. bum Bum BUM!
That would have sucked, but that was only the beginning of the story. So I think I will Tarantino it and go with it last. So I have an additional duty where I get to reward good Afghans for turning in weapons and reporting caches. Myself and this other LT go all around the province to make payments and it’s a good gig since I get to ride around in helos. This last payment seemed pretty simple, fly to FOB Tora and make a couple of payments, return the next few days (five to be exact). While waiting for the French helo to take us there the French officer told us that instead of five days, it would only be three (c’est bon!) Unfortunately we got diverted to Kabul International Airport (KAIA).
We got to KAIA and met the French Liaison and he told us that we were not going to be able to fly out in two days, but to come back and check after dinner. We then asked if they had any living quarters for us arranged. They did not, but gave us the directions to the US consulate over there which ended up being the way outside-the-wire. Luckily the other LT saw an American flag and suggested that we go towards freedom. While leaving the French side of KAIA we saw all of the SUVs parked outside and thought how nice it would be to get a ride since we packed for five days. That only happens in the land of fairy tales and puppy dog tails so we hoofed it the click to the other side of the base. Having just trekked the Afghan countryside with my Legionnaire friends the week before I was okay, but the other LT was having problems with her bags.
At the PAX (passenger) terminal we were able to get spots in the transient tents. We then set off to find some grub and got to eat at the Turkish restaurant (Yes there are restaurants in the nice places of Afghanistan. After chow, we went back to the French side and asked about the flight information. Hooray! There was a flight to Tora taking off from the soccer field in Kabul the next morning. (car screeching noise) Where?!? The soccer field is where the Taliban would hold public executions and stuff like that during their regime. Since then we have turned it into an Airfield. However, to get to the soccer field one must travel through Kabul. No problem. Wait we flew here, how are we going to get to the soccer field? I asked the French guy and he said that he did not know, take a cab. Thank God, that is grossly against American policy. I called the Aviation LNO (my friend) at HQ to see what he could do. He said to give him two hours to figure something out. Two hours later the French guys at KAIA were acting like they had saved my life (even though it was my friend) and said that Mel Gibson would take us to Tora. This guy really did look like Mel Gibson, but French.
Unfortunately, the flight coordinators were on the same book, different page. As we were walking up to the LZ (landing zone) we heard one chopper. I thought okay, there were supposed to be two choppers, this must be different. (Chopper 2 sounds) Okay, if we see PRT guys from M-F then we are screwed “Hey guys! What are you doing in Tora?” (Shit). I called my friend to say “What the Hell” and he was already working on circling the choppers back around to pick us up. Waiting around for about an hour they came back. The French had to let us out of the FOB and we had to run in battle rattle with five days worth of gear back to the LZ up a hill (wah wah) Finally on the way back to M-F. Hooray!
Wait, I don’t remember M-F having so many lights. Welcome to Bagram. The helo crew was waiting for us to get off their chopper, but we said that we were going to M-F. The crew chief assured us that another Helo was coming to pick us up and take us to M-F. BAZINGA! The bastard lied. I then found the nearest phone to ask my friend “What the Hell” and he said that they adjusted back to the original flight schedule and we ended getting screwed as a result. Normally these things happen and it’s no biggie. In this situation, it was 0200 (2am) and we could not call the PRT LNOs here and had no living quarters again. It’s a good thing the nearest transient barracks are 1.5kms down Disney Dr.
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| Poppy the National Flower of Afghanistan |
Again, got living quarters and called the PRT LNOs the next morning. This is where the trip evens out. Bagram is pretty nice and relaxing, with an endless amount of food (but not better than Tora). I kept on checking and even saw a lot of French people, but they were going to Tora (I had to speak French to get this information…not to brag or anything). Two days later we finally got a flight out of Bagram and got to sleep in my own bed again.
You almost forgot about the Tarantino moment, didn’t you? Yeah, the first flight of that long journey was almost my last! I love helos, it’s the only way to fly (no offense Paul), but not in 35 knot winds. Apparently that’s acceptable to the French. Before we even took off, I couldn’t see the sky because the wind was blowing dust EVERYWHERE. But I trust the pilots and their judgement. Before we got on the helo, the gunner showed us a sign that said “TORA” we nodded and got on. As the helo started hovering off the ground, the gunner told me that we would go to KAIA first then TORA later in the day. Quoi?!? Ou?!?! It must have been because of the wind. Usually we fly through another valley, but the wind had diverted us. I have a pretty vivid imagination, so as we were taking off, I was contemplating 1) how shitty it would be to die on Memorial Day and 2) If we crashed and I was the only survivor, how I would drag the bodies to the nearest village and use Pashtunwali (specifically “malmastia”) to get out of this pickle. As I was zoning out the helos were climbing to their ceiling to fly over the wind. I was looking out my window and saw that it was still a brown out at ceiling level. The other LT was looking out were window and saw us getting pushed closer and closer towards a mountain. The helo must have looked like a bird flying against the 35 knot wind because we started to shake. Then we dropped! I was floating for about three seconds (like the first drop on a roller coaster) and the other LT grabbed my arm (like that would save her). Luckily we recovered and the gunners gave us an uncomfortable thumbs up and awkward laugh. I loved every second of it! When we got to the French terminal, the gunners were talking about the drop and singing “Highway to the Dangerzone” to their buddies. Yes, I was with them, when they had their Top Gun moment. The other LT was traumatized (I had bruises on my arm the next day). When we got on the French Helo to Tora, and they did a fast descent, I could tell she was scared. Needless to say the French guys are a little riskier when they fly. Hopefully, I will not have to fly with them again. The other day a French helo crashed in that same wind trap that we had the drop in. Unfortunately the pilot did not survive. I asked my buddy why they go up in these conditions, and he said that its not too bad. The one thing that is different is that US rotary pilots get HAMET (High Altitude Mountain Elevation Training) and the French pilots unfortunately do not.
Cue the obscure seventies music.
WINNING
-JoJo
Have you flown in an f-15?
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