Adaptation

Good news. My first mission, visiting two firebases and one FOB, is to a region that is quiet right now. No safety concerns. Nothing is firmly scheduled yet but it should happen within a week or so.

 

Our hottest area is nearby here-- a firebase in the mountains that takes mortars and rockets nightly. The Taliban/Al Qaeda/whoever target the bases with indirect fire, but it is largely ineffective and much of it misses anything of improtance. Even if it does come close, the bunkers on each base can sustain practically a direct hit and leave the residents with nothing more than a headache from the noise and overpressure. The bad guys more frequently target the locals who drive supply trucks to and from the bases or work on road projects or other construction projects. They make good money but the insurgents target them as collaborators. Many Afghans are killed or wounded on a regular basis.

 

Listening to the mortar crew at our sister FOB shooting illumination rounds 5k in the distance last night, I realized that you never really fully relax here. There is a mild but insidious anxitety that permeates every experience. The sounds, the smells, the sights. Even laying in your bed, drifting into sleep, you devote brain bandwidth to monitoring sounds. But today I re-learned some things I already knew.

 

You see, I've made a friend, and I've started working out relentlessly. The guy I am becoming friends with is an Army doctor, who I network/consult with as one of three medical officers on this base. He's a cyclist, lives in Washington, and has three kids about the same age as mine. Most people here are young men and women, roughnecked warriors, good old boys, kids. There are a handful of Army officers-- Captains and Majors, but they make up their own cadre and while some are very pleasant, we live and work in different worlds. So, it was a relief to make a friend. 

 

He took me on a long run through the FOB, making multiple loops and circles on the gravel and rock roads. When I was running I felt at peace and got lost in the physical experience, and the not insignificant pain from the elevation and several weeks of sedentary travel. The next morning I spent almost an hour on a dusty stationary bike, spun my way through 18 stationary miles. I listened to music and stared at the canvas wall of the tent but I was somewhere else too-- I was on my bike back home, I could feel the wind on my face and the heat in my legs.

 

A friend and a re-focusing on fitness; two things that are helping me adapt.