Out of Afghanistan

I was told that "show time" was at 10pm, so I muddled through the day, watched some videos, shaved, showered, ate too much for lunch, waited around.

At 10pm we arrived at the terminal and found seats in the crowded bus station atmosphere. Perhaps 100 military personnel and civilians were packed into a small dingy room, waiting to hear announcements about flights out of BAF.

At 11:30pm they announced that those of us who were waiting for the Manas mission should go stand in line at US customs with all of our baggage. Luckily my baggage was preplaced near the customs facility so I was one of the first 30 who were inspected.

This process involves entirely unpacking every piece of gear and luggage and having an inspector poke through it all. They make sure people don't export a variety of things, military hardware and ammunition, I suspect, is the primary target, because I can't imagine what else you would want to bring home from Afghanistan.

After processing the line and moving my bags to a secure yard to await palletization, I moved into the departure lounge and found a seat.

Over the course of two hours they processed over 150 people and packed us all into the lounge, every seat being full, the floor covered with trash, cold weather clothing and carry-on bags. At the back of the room were bins full of the ubiquitous potato chips from UAE and cases upon cases of Blueberry Pop Tarts.

We waited patiently for seven hours before we heard anything, and it was bad news-- the aircraft's loading ramp wouldn't go down so the flight was canceled, but the good news was that there was a C-130 available to take 30 of us.

I was too exhausted to be too upset over this. I kept reassuring myself that soon I would be out, what's another day?

The sergeant read off the paired down manifest and my name was on it. A rush of energy overwhelmed me. Maybe I would get out soon?

Another 4 hours of waiting and we were notified to get ready to leave. Everyone rushed to don Kevlar helmets and body armor, sling carry on bags over shoulders.

We were bussed out onto the flight line and under a cold sky we filed into an idle C-130. The loadmaster packed us in to every available space.

Within 15 minutes the engines wound up and we taxied onto one of the runways. I still couldn't believe that I was leaving. Something had to go wrong, what was it going to be? Fog at Manas? Some valve in a hydraulic system?

In five minutes we were in the air, and after thirty minutes passed I was reassured that we would not be circling back to BAF.

I was out of Afghanistan.