AFGHANISTANSHRUGGED.COM

For Whom the Bell Tolls

2009-08-04T16:51:00Z

For whom does the bell toll?

The low dull thud of the rotors signals the end. For the last year that sound has meant many things. Apaches with rockets, HIPs with food and God forbid Blackhawks for MEDEVAC. This time it’s our ride out of Bermel and the end of year in combat.

Since the beginning we’ve known this day was coming. It’s hard to describe the want for something to come and the dread that it will actually arrive. Each day I’ve prayed that I’d reach this day safely and in the next breath cursed the onrushing dreadnought.

Today is the 4^th of July and CPT Brain and I stand on the dusty LZ in Bermel. The sound of the bird slowly crescendos as it approaches low, blending with the brown, washed out landscape. Independence Day has arrived for both the US and us.

As we stand waiting for our ride to the rear; the Battle Captain rides out to the LZ on a four wheeler to inform us that a COP to the north is under heavy attack. The attack started with a VBIED and mortars, the current report is that 9 Americans have been evaced but they’re holding the position against heavy enemy fire. I realize that I’m powerless to do anything about this, my time here has ended. It another’s chance to fight the fight.

Our departure comes at an inauspicious time. Several days ago while we were on a dismounted patrol we learned that a US Soldier was missing and captured by the Taliban. Radio calls every 10 minutes to account for all our personnel were a prelude to the actual notification. The circumstances of the incident are cloudy to say the least. Since notification we’ve established check points trying to find the soldier and were awaiting orders to air assault to the south.

The rotors now build to a deafening fortissimo as the bird circles overhead and flares to land. The rest of Team Vampire is there to say goodbye. It’s difficult to sum up a year in the brief moments before getting on our ride. The noise is too loud to hear anything so maybe it’s for the best, Soldiers do very poorly at goodbyes.

The sand and moon dust coat everything as we move toward the screeching bird. An Afghan parting gift as it bores its way into my uniform and skin. Burdened with equipment and bags we waddle our way out to our ride to freedom.

Part of me will stay here. Forever. Lost in the Afghan landscape; a part best left in the war torn land. How many others have done the same, Greeks, Mongols and the British? Pieces of warriors left behind not needed in pleasant society. It’s best to leave it here; not try to put it away when one gets home. It has a nasty habit of escaping the box. Let it run free here where it belongs. Just walk away.

A new part though I take with me. Understanding, friendship and things I would have never learned or experienced if I hadn’t been here. I cherish them and don’t think that I quite understand them all at this moment.

Scott Kesterson once asked me if I thought war changed me, it has. For the worse and the best. It is the paradigm of controlled chaos. Difficult to explain to those that have never experienced it, but no words are needed to explain to those that have. Take the good and leave the bad; while doing something positive with what you now know about yourself and mankind.

We reach the precipice; the door of the helicopter. Only the two of us enter; leaving the rest behind. We wave our final goodbyes and the door slam shuts; with more finality than suits me at this instant. The bird slowly lifts and begins to transition to forward flight. Bermel shrinks in size but grows larger.

The bell tolls for thee…

I'm Back!!

2009-07-26T01:00:00Z

Sorry for the long break in posts but I've been making my way back to the US for the last several weeks. My internet access was spotty and the irregular travel schedule messed with my chances to write.

I reached home yesterday and am currently spending time with the REAL VAMPIRE 06 trying to adjust to a world where not everyone wants to kill you and every car on the side of the road isn't a VBIED

I'll see you all soon!

VAMPIRE 06

Missing Soldier in Eastern Afghanistan

2009-07-02T12:36:39Z

Readers,

As many of you may now know from news reports a soldier is missing in
Eastern Afghanistan. No one from Team VAMPIRE is missing and we are
conducting operations in an attempt to locate the missing soldier.

VAMPIRE 06

Lord of the Flies

2009-06-09T09:32:00Z

The Cougar MRAP rumbles to a stop. The trailing dust cloud washes over the vehicle temporarily obscuring the outside world to us. The AC is broken and the group stuffed into the armored behemoth is sweating profusely, you can see it soaking through the sleeves and collars of our uniforms. Underneath our vest is worse. I feel it dripping down the back of my pants, not a pleasant feeling.

The gunner is the only one spared, he sits with his head out of the vehicle, a dangerous job, but at least you’re cooler. The one and half hour drive to this location was along a rocky, rutted, “road”; jolting us violently with every foot we move. The Cougars were designed for the paved roads of Iraq not the rock sewn trails of Afghanistan. I’m confident I’ll survive an IED but my back and kidneys may be destroyed by safety.

The purpose for us coming here is a shura an afghan term for gathering or meeting. This shura is honor of opening two schools in the area. Much has been made of the supposed destruction wrought by US forces in the towns and villages but very little is ever said about the good that’s been done.

Just in our operational area we’ve built four schools, numerous wells, water retention walls and various other projects. We’ve also treated over 700 cases in 9 months.

Today though we’ve come for the opening of the schools. We dismount from the vehicles, get security set and head to shura. As I walk across the field I see the school white washed and pristine. A snowball sitting in the brown dirt of the valley and its partner sits about 4 kilometers to the west; easily visible due to the contrast. Part of me wonder if that’s such a good idea as I’m positive it can be seen from the Pakistani mountains 5 k to the east. Easily within range of rockets.

We enter the school and meet the local elders. The elders are the staples of the community. We meet them in order of age and precedence. In the beginning I didn’t realize this but I’ve now become aware of the rigid hierarchy these introductions follow. I shake hands with about 20 older looking men.

Older looking is the correct term here. My internal American age estimator isn’t calibrated for Afghanistan. Several times I’ve met people I thought were 60 years plus and it turns out they were my age 39. It’s a hard knock life here.

Post introductions we tour the school. Entering each classroom and seeing the desks, books, pens and pencils. There’s a small select group of students here, large gatherings are discouraged for security reasons. The ACM often IED them or use suicide bombers. The reverence with which the Afghans treat the school is amazing.

The small group reaches the final room where sitting mats are spread on the concrete floor shaped in a U. It’s packed with the ubiquitous flies found everywhere in Afghanistan and smells of diesel the fuel used to cut the paint. If you have a weak stomach Afghanistan is not the place for you.

I’m placed at the head with the oldest elder. What many Americans fail to realize is that just by being an American soldier you’re honored and revered, that’s why any form of disrespect is such a crushing blow to the Afghans. The men you thought could do no wrong have now insulted you, that’s hard to take for anyone.

We sit down and the senior elder begins to speak. The speaking order is very important too. You speak in the order of your importance. Generally, I’m given the second position. At the beginning of my tour I usually spoke toward the end or at the end.

Now, here’s a little more insight to American vs Afghan ways. Afghans are verbose and like to talk; I mean they really like to talk. So a shura can go for a long time. You’re expected to speak even if you feel that everything’s been said. In America we strive for short concise meetings. In Afghanistan it’s as if the sheer amount of talking wills the things to happen. The more talking the more likely it will happen.

Conversations and meetings in the US are a single thread going from point to point. In Afghanistan it’s a woven rug with muted tones, subtle patterns and held together with an intricate base layer. The pattern you may see in the rug may not be what you think.

Obviously, I don’t speak Pashto so I’ve got to have an interpreter. My preferred method is to have my terp sit next to me and translate in a low voice what being said as they say it. Some prefer to have breaks where the terp translates. I find my method keeps the flow going and makes it more like an actual conversation. I can then participate more actively with gestures and facial expressions.

The groups talks for a long while, drinking chai and then we adjourn to another room for lunch. As I come into the room, I’m hit with dread. It’s covered in flies as is the food. One of my no shit rules is that I NEVER refuse any food or drink given to me by an Afghan. It’s insulting to them. So, I’m going to have to eat.

I do and pay for it two days later with violent vomiting and diarrhea that makes a claymore mine seem like a fire cracker. 10 lbs and 6 bags of IV fluid later I’ll be fine and my relationship with the elders is intact. A small price to pay to good relations.

After lunch we pose for pictures. Again this is a hierarchy, the most important elders get their picture taken with me first. Yes, all of the pictures have me in them. You would think I was the President of the US and not just some dumb ground pounder. They all want a picture with me. This goes on for about 20 minutes and I’m quickly smiled out.

The final event is the students male and female singing the Afghan National Anthem. A touching moment. About 100 girls go to this school every day. A far cry from the Taliban days. The elders are very happy about this fact but are concerned that the ACM will try to stop the trend.

We shake more hands and start to move back to our vehicles. I reach my vehicle and prepare for the back pounding patrol back to our FOB. The time bomb of the chow ticking in my stomach but a good day in the history of the Bermel valley.

Update on OPERATION: VAMPIRE PINK

2009-05-30T04:12:00Z

An update to the status of OPERATION: VAMPIRE PINK. We now have a pink ladies version of the T-shirt, along with ACU Sand and black. So, go out to the Ranger Up site and pick one up showing your pride for those that supported you or those that you proudly support. You deserve it and it supports a great cause!

Plus , strike a stunning blow; taking the color pink back from those nut jobs that tried to kick the Marines out of Berkley. Nothing says back off like a pissed off pink Vampire with a blazing M249! Not to mention the booger eaters offense to sexy motivated women!

Please keep sending the permalink out or copy it into an email and shoot it to everyone in your address book, we can use all the help we can get!

To the Strong and Wonderful Women!

2009-05-27T08:18:00Z

How does one say “Thank You” for such an incredible debt owed?

This is a post that I’ve struggled to write many times during my deployment and each time it seems that I’ve failed. At the end I’m always left with the feeling that I didn’t quite describe their hardship, give them their true credit or convey our true gratitude. I’ll try; but am afraid I shall fail them.

I’m talking about the women that stand guard at home, support us, encourage us and reinforce that fighting spirit that sustains us. Our wives, mothers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters, volunteers and so many other wonderful and strong women that I can’t even begin to name.

Not just our team but each and every soldier, marine, sailor or airman that deploys to Afghanistan or Iraq, for that matter any conflict. A huge burden is being carried by those that fight but do not go to combat.

Thank you, for being the ones that deal with the mess once we leave. We’re trained well to fight. But there is no Field Manual that describes how to explain to a young child that their father isn’t going to be home for a long time or in the worst case may never come home. You do it with such grace and poise.

Thank you, for being patient and waiting. Enduring the pain of waiting to hear from us wondering if the worst has occurred when we’re late calling or emailing and enduring our complete lack of understanding at your frustration and fear when we are late. “We came back late from patrol”; just doesn’t validate that fear. Your patience is epic.

Thank you, for being the ones that hold us fast to reality and help put us back together when we return. You hold us tight and tell us things will be Ok when the rockets and gunfire have gone but the war has not left us. Your strength is what protects the warrior.

Thank you, for accomplishing all the things that we fail to acknowledge. Fixing broken sprinklers, taking kids to school, paying bills and the myriad of other things that are required to sustain life at home. You do so much and get so little from us many times.

Thank you for being the volunteer that says, “Welcome Home” in the middle of the night ensuring that no one comes home to silence and being their when we leave to say “Come Home Safe”. You inspire us with your selfless service.

Finally, thank you for being you. For serving in a war you did not volunteer for and keeping us strong, sane and secure. We and the rest of the country owe you a huge debt that can never be repaid, the best we can hope for is to understand your journey, listen and learn from you.

From the bottom of our hearts, Team VAMPIRE and every other serving member says “THANK YOU”!

And to my wife and mother; I could not have done all of this without you. You are the truest warriors I know, pure of heart, strong in determination and unwavering in faith. I have a lot to learn from your examples!

Once again I reach the end of this post and I think I’ve come so very short of expressing our gratitude. This is the 12^th time I written this post.

In tribute to all of the strong and wonderful women that support the fighting force we’ve joined together with Ranger Up to stage OPERATION:VAMPIRE PINK to raise money for breast cancer research. We designed a new shirt which you can see below and $5 from each sale is donated to the Susan G. Kommen Foundation.

SUSAN KOMMEN TRIBUTE SHIRT by RANGER UP!

It has the female Vampire on the back. Yes, she's bad ass because you're bad ass! We all know you always cover our back and the front is just politically incorrect enough. We don’t collect a dime for this.

It’s a very small way to say “Thanks” for everything you do. So please buy one in tribute to those that have supported every warrior!

Please pass these links along to whomever you wish, I see enough chain emails going around and this one can do so much good in the name of those that have given so much!