Made it to Bagram

Capt America: Jet lagged in Frankfurt

I'll briefly summarize the trip: 7 hour flight to Germany followed by a 30 hour delay. 8 hours of the delay was spent in the Maritim in Frankfurt. 4 hours was spent in a bus getting to and from the hotel. 1 hour was spent looking for 3 missing soldiers who got wasted the night before at the hotel bar and then went out on the town in downtown Frankfurt.

That was followed by a 5 hour flight to southern Turkey and then a 5 hour flight to Bishkek and Manas Air Base, arriving at 5am. Manas is a transit point for everyone coming in and out of Afghanistan and as such it has many amenities in a small space. It was clean, organized and obviously well run. Once in-processed I was expecting to be in Manas for about 16 hours, waiting on a military flight to Bagram.

Photos of Manas AB:

Getting on these flights is a crap-shoot because things change constantly depending on mission needs, weather, maintenance issues, and probably alot of other things I'm not aware of... We needed to check in for our flight at 0155 (that's AM) and I was resigned to experiencing a third sleepless night of travel. As luck would have it I got out of Manas about 8 hours after arriving. I managed to hitch a ride on a C 130 Hercules that was carrying cargo to Bagram but had space for five passengers plus their gear. It was an exciting ride over the "hump" to Afghanistan, flying through the impressively bleak Tian Shan range and over the beautiful lake Issyk Kul.

Photos inside the Herc:

A winding 2.5 hour flight got us to Bagram and I got to experience a tactical descent in a C 130-- it seemed like the pilot basically points the plane at the ground and opens the throttle, and then at the last minute executes a hard turn and glides onto the runway. The cargo packed in the hold was rocking and swaying and looking pretty deadly, as it was all poised uphill of us inside the aircraft, strapped down by cargo straps that had seen better days.

Getting out of the plane was like being back in Vegas-- it was windy, dusty and hot and the horizon was ringed with dry, steep mountains. I made a quick phone call and was met by a Sergeant from my unit, Task Force Med. He welcomed me, I strapped on my leg iron, and we loaded up my gear in a big crew cab pickup. He was going to get me in temp housing and briefly orient me to Bagram so I could eat, shower, make phone calls...

The first stop was the hellish tent city that is known as "transitional lodging". Every tent was filled with hundreds of cots fitted about 18 inches apart and each cot had a lounging soldier with piles of gear. It was hot, crowded, chaotic, and smelled like a homeless shelter: body odor, nicotine sweat, and dirt. Soldiers sat around listening to ganster rap and calling each other "bitch". The Sergeant said "this ain't right" and to make a long story short, he found me better quarters. Whether or not I'll be able to stay in them for the duration of my time in Bagram (maybe two or three more days) remains to be seen, but I am deeply in his debt. My biggest anxiety at the moment is the fear that I may be moved back into that tent-- it's the stuff of nightmares. Unfortunately I'll probably stay there on my way back through Bagram when I come home, but at least it will cold then, which will keep down the stink, and I probably won't care by that point.

Bagram is a bit shabby and dirty, but that's expected. The unsettling part is the number of people that seems to be crammed into this base. There is a line for everything (food, phones, computers, the BX, bathrooms) and the place feels on edge.

I had take out dinner at the KBR chowhall and walked back towards my lodging. F 15s were taking off from the adjacent flightline, full afterburners making them look like rockets launching into space. A big convoy of MRAPS chugged down the road beside me, headed out or coming in from a mission. Hordes of people walked in both directions, contractors, Army, USAF. Dust, diesel, people. I felt very alone and asked myself what the hell I was doing here. I was a little depressed, thinking about the huge gap of 6 months that seems to yawn before me (yes, I realize the Army deploys for 12 months). That's always eaten at me, but now I am realizing that maybe this will be harder than I thought it would be.

When I get to my new "home" and get into a flow it will be easier. Meet some people, start working and make some meaning out of all this. I keep reminding myself to remind myself that I must have a purpose and goals while I am here. My morale will follow, and the time will pass more quickly if it is purposeful time. I can see how it would be easy to fall into the trap of just biding time, or being consumed by what a suffer-fest it is and will continue to be. Yes, the toilets are gross, your friends and family are on the other side of the world, and it is hot and dirty and everyone in the Army smells like a sweaty cigarette. But, I'm going to make some good happen if I have to go through all that... otherwise it will be a lost 6 months from my life.

I have a few days of briefings and in-processing but they have already submitted my request for transportation to my FOB, so it's on, just a matter of time. It's going to take me some time to adjust to this...