Return

I returned from that FOB and it was remarkably uneventful. I was on my fifth day, steeling myself for a seven to eight day stay, when I found out that there was a flight coming in that would be headed to Salerno, a large regional base that is situated right on the Pakistan border. Getting on would be a gamble, because I wouldn't go to my home, but I would be out of that place. I made some phone calls to some people I knew at Salerno (I've been here long enough and traveled enough to actually know people around this country) to try to arrange some lodging and arrange some social interaction. Salerno has a coffee shop and frequent flights to my home FOB, so I figured that I would give it a shot.

I packed my rucksack and geared up about an hour before the flight was due and I went down by the LZ to wait. After two and a half hours of sitting in the dust the Chinook roared in over a ridge. Overhead, an AH-64 Apache circled like a shark, ready to pounce on anyone that tried to lob mortars or RPGs at the lumbering Chinook. Three of us ran through the dust and rotor wash to scramble into the helicopter. I was out of that place and headed someplace new.

To my surprise, the Chinook lifted up out of the valley and swung west, away from where I knew Salerno to be. We flew only a few hundred feet above wooded ridges, the Apache attack helicopter trailing in our wake. Within five minutes I knew that we were headed to my FOB and I started to hope that we were going to stop. The Chinook dropped down into the LZ. It turns out that my bird was waiting to reunite with a second Chinook before heading home to Salerno.

I signaled for the crew chief to let me out and I grabbed my gear and jumped off. I was home and I was happy. I have been very lucky with travel this year...

I'm cautiously hoping that the next time I get on a bird I will be headed to my real home.