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Authors: Bryan Wood

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BOOK: Unspoken Abandonment
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I still can
not believe that a bomb was no
t placed for us in the pass. Al Qaeda and Taliban fighters love using improvised explosives during their attacks. They make their bombs out of old rocket
s, mortar shells, or landmines.

The whole thing happened so fast, it was over before I knew it. As we pulled out of the pass, it took me a minute to really believe what had just happened. Every vehicle checked in over the radio, announcing no injuries and no damage, so we pressed forward and continued on with the mission. It was kind of surprising how the incident was
n
o
t very frightening at all
, while it was occurring
. Once everything was over and done
,
on the other hand,
it was
scary to look back on
.
A
t the time instinct just took over and my reactions just seemed
to happen
natural
ly
. I
a
m not sure how to explain it.
The rest of the mission went well, and we got to the forward firing base just fine.

The unit I am in is made up of about one hundred and fifty troops, and we
a
re all scattered around different bases in Kabul and Bagram, with about thirty five of us at
Camp Eagle
. I found out today that one of our guys at another compound
, the Kabul Military Training Center
, contracted
Malaria over there. Afghanistan has a lot of diseases that w
e do
n
o
t have in America anymore,
such as
things like Malaria, Leprosy, and other weird
or bizarre
illnesses
.
There is o
ne thing
that is
absolutely
certain
about Afghanistan
:
in one way or another
,
there is always something here that can hurt you.

March 15,
2003
:

Midnight shift was very long and quiet
, yet
again. Around eight o’clock last night, before I started my OP watch, I was taking a little nap after we got back from a mission. We were woken up and instructed to report to our posts early and double up at every point. I did
n
o
t know what had happened yet, but I knew there must have been something. I was walking to my assigned OP along the south wall, where I was assigned
for the night
, and I heard there was just a series of bombings in the area.

As the night went on, I heard more and more and eventually found out there were three bombings
,
all within two and a half miles of the compound
.
T
he closest
attack was
just a quarter of a mile away. Two were suicide bombings at local shops, and a third was an improvised explosive left along the roadway. No word on casualties yet, and I have no idea if any
Americans were
targeted
. It usually takes a few days for us to get full
and
accurate information, so I w
ill
n
o
t know for a little bit.

On the plus side of things, the weather has been getting very nice lately. When I first got here, it was chilly during the day but downright cold at night. The nights are still chilly, but the daytime temperatures seem to be climbing a little more every day. I was expecting it to be hot here all the time, but ou
r elevation in the mountains
definitely keeps things chilly during the winter
months.
It has actually snowed several times since I arrived.
When our missions take us further into the mountains, it can get very col
d, but it is becoming nice here.
T
he weather is
becoming nice
anyway.

The squad
opened a large care package yesterday, which
had been
sent by an anonymous sender. It had a volleyball set and some other cool stuff. Our Lieutenant gave us the go ahead to
set up
the volleyball net in a dirt area
adjacent
to where we park the trucks.
Volleyball s
hould be a fun way to pass the
small amount
of free time we do have.
Other than
what I
ha
ve already written
,
there is not much else to write about. I a
m tired
,
and
I am
going to bed.
Another day is done in Afghanistan.

March 16,
2003
:

Last night, I finally had a night off.
As midnight was approaching and
the rest of
my squad was gearing up to head out to their assigned OP, I was gathering movies and snacks from my foot locker and getting ready for my first night to relax in a long time.

Around five-thirty in the morning, I went to use the telephone and check my email. I was able to call my wife for the first time in weeks, and also write to some friends. Good thing I got to do that last night, because all email and telephones were locked down today.
American f
orces are getting ready to invade Iraq and the military is raising the threat level at all military bases and compounds in the Middle East and Central Asia. Part of that increase is to cut off all lines of communication between us and the outside world.
It does
n
o
t really have that big of an impact on me, though. My squad almost never has time for the computer or phones, and when we do, the wait
in
line is so long it
i
s not even worth it. When we have four or five hours to sleep before we have to be back up
for midnight
, it
i
s not worth waiting in line for two of those hours just to make a five minute phone call. It
i
s a hard choice to make sometimes, but exhaustion usually wins.

It
is very difficult
being so cut off from the world and
not knowing what
i
s going on. The only
information
we get
is
newspaper clippings that are usually weeks old by the time they arrive. Day by day, we have no idea what
i
s going on back home, how
our
families are
doing
, or what is
happening in our old lives. It i
s a very cold feeling to be so separated from everything you love.

My night off, though uneventful, was very nice. Watching movies and eating snacks was a way to pretend I was somewhere else for a little while.
I could pretend I was s
omewhere comfortable, somewhere safe,
and
anywhere but here.

I constantly think about the people who are stuck living in this shit. In five months, I get to leave here and go home. The people who live here have no such
hope
and little hope for a better way of living
any time soon
. Every day, when
I
a
m
on a mission or out on pat
rol,
I look at all
of
the people who have to endure the kind of life they are given here
.
I can
no
t understand how I was so
blessed
to be bor
n into something so much better, and until this experience, I have never appreciated any of it.

March 17,
2003
:

Just before my midnight shift started, the squad was getting ready to go to our assigned
OPs
. I was gearing up, getting my machine gun ready, and packing ammunition into my rucksack. The alarm horn sounded, and we all started rushing out towards our
OPs
. As soon as I got outside of our building, I could hear a lot of gunshots. The shots were coming from the east and as much as I wanted to head
that way, my OP was on the west.
I needed to respond to my point. Just because the compound is taking fire from the east does
n
ot mean a second attack is no
t coming from the west, and we need to secure every inch of the perimeter.
Any time there is an attack of any kind, we are requir
ed to go to our assigned points
and not
necessarily where the current attack is located.

The gunshots lasted for maybe forty-five seconds to a minute after I started hearing them, and then they were done. I found out a few minutes later that
an OP along the east wall had taken multiple shots from a large
,
open field across the street from the compound. It was pitch black outside, and no one knows how many people were out there, but rounds did strike the OP. No one was hurt, and even though the guy inside the OP was shooting blindly into the dark, laying down fire from an M249 sent the shooter running. It
i
s just another reminder that anything can happen at any time.

The fact that anything can happen at any time sounds stressful, but to experience it is something completely
beyond that
. Every night I sit in my OP just hoping not to be hit by
a sniper. Every day
I patrol the city on foot
, and I pray
I won’t
be shot or blown up. Every time I try to sleep
,
I hope I
a
m not woken up by the warning siren or by an incoming rocket.
Y
ou canno
t become complacent and develop an attitude of “It won’t happen to me.” That kind
of thinking gets people killed; however,
it eats you alive to constantly be prepared and worried about what
i
s
lurking behind every corner. It i
s a shit situation with n
o alternative
,
and
it is
a perfect example of being
damned if y
ou do and damned if you don’t.

I know this place is
n
o
t only getting to me, I can see it in other people also. Guys that were funny and goofy when we first got here are different
now
; some are barely talking
,
and others are just constantly negative about everything. Guys that were friends now seem to hate each other. We all do our jobs every day, and we do them better than could ever be asked of anyone, but it
i
s taking its toll on everyone.

Later on in the night, around three o’clock or so, I heard a single gunshot. It came from the north and sounded like it was right along the north wall. The Sergeant started calling out for someone to advise on the location of the shot,
and
a patrol group announced that the shot came from inside OP 7,
al
on
g
the north wall.

The Sergeant called out to OP 7, and
he was no
t getting a response. My heart sank, and my stomach just
knotted itself
right up. The guy assigned to OP 7 tonight has been having a lot of problems here. He has
n
o
t been adjusting well, and he seems to be absolutely despising every minute of being here. He hates leaving the compound for missions, he hates being alone in the OP, he just hates this place, and this place is just a little more than he can handle. At that moment, I honestly thought he had killed himself.

About a minute later, the Sergeant announced over the radio that he was at OP 7
,
and everything was fine. As the night went on, the Sergeant went to each OP and told us all that this guy had had an incident; he was okay, but he was probably going to be leaving in the morning. The Sergeant did
n
o
t offer anything mor
e
,
and I did no
t ask for it.
I think we can all assume that he came a little too close to doing something very sad, and he needed to be somewhere else. None of us want to be here, but he really needs to be sent home. This guy is sinking fast, and he needs to be pulled out before it
i
s too late.

Last night was a crazy night, and I
a
m very tired now. More of the same old shit went on after shift ended, but nothing worth mentioning. I
a
m ready for a few hours of sleep,
and then
I
have
to wake up
to
do it all over again.

BOOK: Unspoken Abandonment
8.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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