I've been home on R&R leave, and and now back and settled in for my final six months in Afghanistan. Now that I'm back, I'll start posting again. Here are a couple of my more memorable trips through Kabul. Enjoy!
Maj R asked me at the last minute to accompany him to a large Afghan army base on the other side of town. We have to travel in pairs, and his NCO was sick. I accepted, as it was a chance to see more of beautiful Afghanistan. Ever better, I got to drive an Afghan truck for the first time. It is just a souped up Ford Ranger, but the Afghan guards always get a kick out of seeing us in it. Today one asked why we were in it, and Maj R said we stole it, and I said we were joining the Afghan Army. Some humor crosses the language barrier just fine.
The 201st Corps is probably the best equipped of the five Afghan Corps, since it defends the capital. This was a real combat unit, commanded by a two-star General (or, more accurately, a two-blob General, as I could not make out what those things on his shoulders were supposed to be). Not that what I wear is any better. I have a little logistics badge with an Eagle clutching lightning bolts and a bomb, I think. I’m sure the Afghans think I have a blob on my chest too.
Well, we were going in to see the General himself, and I was sure he would be an imposing, Patton-like figure. We sat in his waiting room for a while, enjoying one of the three Afghan air conditioners in the entire city. Finally all the brass arrived, and the room was filled with a host of Generals and Colonels. We headed into the inner sanctum, the office of the Commander of the finest combat unit in Afghanistan. Surely there would be swords hanging on the walls, maybe even heads! Battle plans, war trophies, flags, all sorts of cool stuff. I got up and entered his office . . .
. . . And somehow ended up in a bridal shop. There were towering flower arrangements everywhere. The couches and chairs all had wooden arms and legs, carved into flowers and painted too. Obviously there had been a rip in the space-time continuum, or my anti-malaria drugs had finally fried my brains. There was no way this was the office of the top military commander in the country. I closed my eyes, clicked my heels three times, and wished I was back in Kansas, or at least in reality. However, weird as it was, and weird seems pretty normal around here, I was indeed in his office. Great, old Blood-and-Guts really wants to be a florist.
*****
Today started off much as every other day as we headed off to the vehicles. All was well until Maj Apple said, “Lets try a new route.” Visions of my father’s many famous “short-cuts” flashed through my head, and it was all I could do from screaming “Nooooooo,” much as Luke Skywalker did when Darth Vader said, “Luke, I am your father!” OK, breathe deep, surely he knows what he’s doing.
“I know we need to turn down one of these streets,” said the Voice of Doom.
Well, it’s been a nice life.
We turned down a street, and were soon caught in a traffic jam at a roadblock. If you look in the “How Not to Get Blown Up or Kidnapped” handbook, item number one states “Avoid traffic jams. Keep other vehicles 100 feet away.” Oops. Is this test going to be curved?
Eventually we went down another side street, and were in totally unexplored territory.
“OK,” I said, “This is now officially a bad idea.”
“This is fun,” said Maj Apple, clearly delusional.
“It’s fun until we get blown up,” I countered unemotionally.
“Naw, they won’t hit high-population centers,” said the ever-optimistic Apple.
“Perhaps today they will change their strategy.”
Ironically, the very next week the suicide bombings in Kabul started, and civilians were indeed targeted.
Once we found our way out and were back in familiar territory, Maj Apple said, “Ok, Doug, you can breathe again.”
“Nope, I’ll keep holding my breath. I crapped my pants. You might want to hold yours too.”
Witty banter like this continued, and I told him when the revolution came, he’d be the first against the wall. Just because it’s witty doesn’t mean it’s not true.