On to Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan

This flight was not quite like the flight to Kuwait. First of all, we were in full “battle rattle” (the term for our Kevlar helmets and Kevlar vest with ceramic plates). Next, as we walked up the plane’s rear end, I realized the accommodations were not quite “business class.” I was told to sit along the side as it was the most comfortable. Wow, if that is comfort, I can’t imagine what the center seats were like. Actually, I can and did as I was facing row after row of large men in helmets and Kevlar vests with backpacks and weapons squeeze into 5 middle seats with less leg room than a commercial airplane. My seat was basically web netting over a steel seat with a small pad for your head. After being up already for almost 20 hours, I tried in vain to sleep during the flight. No use. So I tried to read under the red lights on in the vast fuselage, also no use.

When we arrived in Kandahar, we were again blasted with hot dry air. I thought Kuwait was dusty, it was nothing like this. I was greeted by a Petty Officer assigned as a sponsor to me to get me through orientation. So while the rest of my group was languishing in the terminal, she quickly whisked me out to a waiting vehicle. The day was spent touring the hospital (right off the flight line), the NATO barracks (about a half mile away but 20 yards from the NATO gym!), and the various DFAC’s: Niagara (American), Luxemburg (or just the “Lux”- European), the Cambridge (British), and the Asian. Then she took me to the famous “Boardwalk.” I swear it is a weird combination of old Wild, Wild West and modern war. As I walked up the wooden steps onto the wooden boardwalk, I looked down at my M9 in the thigh holster which easily could have been an old Colt six-shooter slung low on my hip. As I walked around the boardwalk everyone was armed to the teeth with automatic weapons. Shops lined the outside and a hockey rink (cement, not ice obviously), volleyball courts, basket ball courts/dodge ball courts, and a small soccer/cricket field. The shops and restaurants were just like Dodge City, except it was Green Beans Coffee and TGIF’s serving coffee and N/A beer instead of whiskey and real beer. Finally, my sponsor drove me by the infamous “poo pond” where all the sewage goes. At the edge sits a chair with “Life Guard on Doodie” painted on the back. Between the dust and the poo pond, I will definitely become a treadmiller instead of an outdoor runner here. I don’t know how much truth there is to it, but the rumor is that someone who ran all the time during their year-long deployment had a biopsy of their lung revealing 16% fecal matter! Don’t want to go to that extreme just to get VA benefits!

This is truly a multi-national and multi-cultural place. We are surrounded by various “camps” within the wire. The Brits, the Danish, the Slovaks, the French, the Germans, the Singporians (sp?), the Australians and more. The Canadians even have their own little “compound” with a Tony Horton’s (their version of Starbucks), a recreation center, a gym and a PX. Contractors abound as well as local nationals. The uniforms are interesting as well. The Aussies look like something out of a cartoon with their camouflage resembling PJ’s with brown and tan balloons on them and their rifles resemble something out of a Buck Roger’s episode. Actually, even our own new “in country” cammies look like comfortable green pajamas. The locals even put on a bazaar on Saturdays selling all sorts of local merchandise.

This should prove to be interesting!