Domestic Violence?

I found this interesting commentary on Afghanistan-- a quick slant on the conflict and culture here. I don't spend too much time thinking about it, but if the TB are so bad, why are they so resilient here? You would think that bad dudes who use indiscriminate violence would be rejected by a population that is so torn by centuries of war. The TB kill far more Afghans than NATO does via collateral damage and we literally pour money into local economies. I guess it's a case of "better the devil you know"-- the same reason abused spouses remain with the abuser.

And then there's that whole "infidel" thing...

"The problems in Afghanistan for the most part, do not stem from within its borders, but from Pakistan. This is another bizarre example of the alliances that the United States forges. Pakistan and Saudi Arabia are dangerous places with almost no equity for the treatment of women. Iran on the other hand is at peace and has a large number of women in professional roles, in college, and holding political office."

Please feel free to leave comments...

I love reading and responding to comments, and feel free to respond to other comments too. Just click the "comments" button, type the comment, type the security word (the weird letters that come up) and either leave it as anonymous or use your Google ID.

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.

 

Brain Rangers: Finding the Core of it...

The team I replaced is now gone—on their way to the States to their great relief. Getting them out was significant, not only because I can now fully own COSC here, but also because their presence reminded me that I just got here!!! I can now make my own legacy and wait for my replacement (poor bastard). My Staff Sergeant showed up at 6am. He had been traveling all night, getting to the BAF air terminal at 8pm the night before. Such is the nature of travel here. The "air bridge" that connects these bases is tenuous and unpredictable, forcing long waits that stretch from hours to days to weeks.

 

Things are suddenly rolling at the combat operational stress control hut. My four days of aggressive marketing is paying off with multiple referrals from the Army medics, self referrals, and a meeting with the commander.  Our clinic was busy with walk-ins from 1030am through 6pm. In three days I have seen mostly combat and operational stress clients with a handful of people with pre-existing issues like chronic insomnia and anxiety.

 

The commander is fully supportive of "brain rangers" and our services, acknowledging that we have an important part of the mission, and he wants us to play an active role.

He paused when we were talking and said that the first thing he wanted to do was "Pantherize" us before we forward deploy: make us less obvious as USAF personnel (our uniforms are a rough approximation of the Army's, but theirs are much cooler and fireproof). After the meeting, per his instruction,  I made a quick trip to the logistics area and got two new Army Aircrew Combat Uniforms… made out of Nomex! The sergeant stuck Airborne patches on the sleeves and the Sergeant Major gave me an ACU hat (took it to the Afghan tailor to sew on rank). With a slung M16 I'll fit right in.

 

This leads to what will be my first mission away from our FOB: a unit behavioral health needs assessment in one of the far-flung companies. I guess I'm talking the talk, so I need to get ready to walk the walk. Making a trip forward, circulating with the guys on the front line and meeting some of the company commanders should garner a few inches of acceptance here in the battalion, which in the long run will make my job both easier and more fulfilling.

 

I've decided that we will do our traveling separately, to maintain a constant presence here at our main location. We already have an active sleep medicine service and we will stand up a smoking cessation service within a week or two. My sergeant is really motivated to provide services for soldiers and do outreach here on base, so when I'm gone he can keep our services active.

 

As the days progress I'm moving towards a rapprochement with my deployment and the anxiety it generates. I'm going to work hard to make it the kind of experience that, when I look back six months from now, I will be glad it is over but proud that I have served in this capacity. Proud that I dug deep to do the right thing for these people who go into harm's way at the behest of our elected officials. That right there, that's at the core of it for me.

 

Like I told my family, if I am going to go to the trouble of being 7000 miles away from my heart and soul, I am going to make sure that the journey is worthwhile and make sure that my accomplishments represent something that my family and friends can be proud of.

Long night

Saturday-- my NCO was supposed to arrive at some point that day. I checked at the TOC for pending flights into the FOB and they had one incoming flight at 2230 Zulu (0130am). As the sun set there was a huge storm cell scouring the mountains on the Afghan/Pakistan border, lightning illuminating the boiling clouds from within. Wind had picked up and flags were snapping on post. I was sure the flight would be canceled. The team I had replaced 3 days ago was waiting at the LZ with their bags, hoping the Chinook would come in, bringing my guy and carrying them back to BAF, then on to Manas, then home.

 

I struggled to stay awake until 0130am and I heard rotors beating the air. I rushed out into the dark to the LZ but it was a pair of Blackhawks on a medevac run to BAF. The Chinook was delayed. I went back to my hut and dozed. At 0330am the heavier, deeper thrum of a Chinook shook the FOB. Again, I rushed to the LZ, the night lit up under the full moon. Two huge Chinooks had dropped into the LZ and were disgorging passengers and cargo under the moonlight, but no NCO for me. The Chinooks left a few minutes later, one following the other, engine pods glowing red, powering into the sky.

 

The doc and tech waiting to get out were standing on the edge of tthe dark field patiently-- they told me the helos were coming back after a quick run to another FOB and then they would go to BAF. They waited with the patience of two men who were but a few days from being back with their families. I know I'll be willing to wait all night when it's my turn... I shook their hands and said "goodbye", closing the door on their tour and symbolically beginning mine. I went to bed. The sun was coming up. It was 0415am.

More photos...

View to the west from the walls of the FOB. In the center of the valley you can barely see the ruins of an ancient fortress on a hilltop.

View to the south across the LZ. Those walled compounds are everywhere here...

Mud walled compound inside the FOB. Not sure how old it is, but it looks old.





Wall of Heroes...

Afghan graveyard inside the perimeter of the FOB. Some of the graves look hundred of years old. I'm not sure of the significance of flags in the foreground. The base comm tower is in the background.

Anysoldier.com

At our Combat Stress Control clinic we have a large set of shelves with various items sent by www.anysoldier.com. You can find my name here. This explains how it works. I am trying to beef up our stock so that I can spread the news on base that people can stop by, pick up some snacks, candy, DVDs, or razors, and maybe chat a bit with me or my technician (lots of women here too-- not sure what women like to have out here. Lotion?). I'm also going to bring stuff out to the FOBs when I travel. Mail hasn't reached this FOB for some time, so I'm not sure when stuff will come. I'd really like to set the clinic up with a TV and a DVD player and some benches or couches, but a lot of people have TVs here (some flat panel TVs in some of the hooches). I think the food and other free stuff will be my lure-- feel free to check out the website and pass the link!

My New Small, Small Town...

I made it to the FOB after another long day of travel. The only way to travel around here is by helicopter, so I rode a Chinook out of BAF, touching down at the LZs in a network of firebases and combat outposts spread throughout the mountains. I felt pretty safe because the Chinook bristles with guns: two door gunners and a tail gunner. I would not want to risk shooting at one of these from the ground if I were Taliban—you would be sure to get a face full of 7.62mm from at least one door gunner and the tail gunner as they flew by. Sorry, but yes I had that thought. The helocopter flies through high passes only a few hundred feet above the forest, I suppose due to elevation. It is a little unnerving.

In flight on Chinook:


The trip was long and cramped but I can now say that I’ve been in Kabul and have been right on the Pakistan border (it looks just like Afghanistan, which looks just like southern Nevada, so really, if you’ve been to southern Nevada, you’ve pretty much seen what central Afghanistan and western Pakistan look like.

Upon arrival, one other passenger (a USAF personellist) and I madly dragged three or four hundred pounds of gear off the bird while the Chinook idled on the ground. The rotor wash and the heat of the exhaust is impressive, blasting you with superheated gas every time you get into the rear of the aircraft. We got a few hundred feet from the two Chinooks and they left—on the ground for no more than three or four minutes. The helo LZ is just a big open area covered with fist sized stones and weeds.

The air terminal is a small wooden building on the edge of the field, and I stood in line to sign in my arrival behind a few Afghan men who had just come in on a Jingle Air helo—they fly cargo and locals in big Russian helicopters (unarmed) from place to place, and make easy targets for Taliban or Al Qaeda with RPGs, as they fly low and slow through the mountain passes.

The base is very small in terms of both size and population and is structured around two small forts, complete with towers, six foot thick walls, and small outbuildings that hug the inner walls. It’s very rough and tumble, nothing fancy. One of the forts was built and used by the British in the 1800’s and was subsequently used by US Army Special Forces during Operation Anaconda. For a good read on the recent military history of the area, pick up “Not a Good Day to Die” by Sean Naylor. It gives a good overview of our initial involvement in this province and details the drama of Anaconda, which played out in the mountains that I look out on to the south.

The mission here is diverse in that the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) is based here for this province. They build schools, improve roads, mentor locals in agriculture, construction, medicine. They funnel money into local infrastructure. It is run by the military but only because the security situation is too poor for civilian organizations to come here alone. Civilian aid workers would be kidnapped, beheaded, or just shot and blown up. The military provides these services under the relative safety of military accoutrements such as body armor, armored vehicles, and heavy weapons. I feel for these guys because they go out to help the locals but constantly worry about IEDs, ambushes, or getting assassinated during meetings.

The place has the feel of a small town, with a nice mixture of civilians, Army, and Air Force. I think it would be rough with just Army, as they are generally an uncivilized lot, but that’s as it should be. There are a lot of Afghans who work on the base, mostly as laborers, but there are also interpreters, ANA soldiers, and a few small shops run out of cargo containers, selling local rugs and jewelry and a lot of other crap that is probably from sweat shops in Pakistan. While walking around the base perimeter yesterday I was invited for tea in one of their hooch’s, but I declined (at least I think that’s what he wanted). I need some time to get comfortable here before I break bread with the locals. I’m still at the point that I have a vague but controllable anxiety when I am near the Entry Control Point (ECP). Just need some time…

New OIC of Combat Stress Clinic:

The views are pretty good, with mountains on all sides, and I can see the ruins of an old fortress on a hill top, supposedly built or conquered by Alexander the Great when he attempted to conquer this area.

Combat Stress Clinic:

I’ve met a nice mixture of people so far and it has everything I need—so I think I’ll be okay. I think I can make this feel like home for six months.

What Lies Underneath

While eating lunch, several soldiers sat down at my table. I zoned out for a while on my food and idly watched day old coverage of the Tour de France on the big screen TV in the back of the room. I was too far away to see what was going on in the race and it made me homesick so I struck up a conversation with the soldiers. They were E-6’s in an Army Airborne unit finishing up 14.5 months in the eastern part of the country, waiting for a flight to Manas and then home. This was their second tour to the same region in Afghanistan, and they said that things were getting worse. Their take on the problem was mostly related to low numbers of troops and not enough air cover and transport from helicopters.

They asked what I did, and I said that I was a combat stress control psychologist being forward deployed-- that I would travel around to several FOBs in the eastern part of the country. They laughed and pretended to get up, saying “why are we talking to you!?” They said they had been schooled from early on to avoid speaking with mental health personnel.

I eventually asked them to give me some advice—what I could do that would be helpful or useful when I go visit the FOBs and COPs---

Soldier Number One: “Don’t go. We don’t need you there. Maybe we need you back at home but not out there.”

Me: “But I have to go, that’s my job, so what should I do when I go?”

Soldier Number Two: “Sir, you should bring cigarettes and Copenhagen, they would love you.”

Soldier Number One: “Sir, when I get back from a mission the last thing I want to do is talk to some combat stress guy. I just want to take a shower, jerk off, and go to sleep. If I have to listen to some guy talk about combat stress I won’t be listening.”

The second soldier suddenly started to relate a story about coming home from his last deployment, how he lost friends in Afghanistan and when he came back he was paranoid and short-tempered, got divorced, drank too much. His somber confession seemed to catch his friend off guard as he moved the conversation into what sounded like a pretty dark time in his life. He said, “I don’t think it was PTSD but it was a weird time.” He knew that those experiences were related to his combat tour but he didn’t know what to make of it. He paused and seemed thoughtful, and I imagined that he was wondering what it would be like to go back after this tour, if the anxiety and anger was still inside him, dormant.

I just listened, and suddenly the spell was broken, the voices and the noise in the dining facility intruded, and we were done. I wished them both “good luck”, and wished them a good trip home, not without a twinge of jealousy.

Standby

I’m on standby for another 24 hours. At some point I’ll go to the rotary terminal and sit around for three or four hours sequestered, waiting for the flight. Understandably, the flight schedule is classified and seemingly random and unpredictable. Based on my briefings yesterday I have gathered that I will be a frequent flier on helos during this tour, making it unlikely that I will convoy anywhere beyond my immediate area (I think I am responsible for a FOB that is 1 or 2 miles away). I’ve been told that much of my territory is not easily accessed by vehicles, so I have to fly.

That cheered me up. In the last three months I have seen hours of Taliban video of US vehicles being hit by VBEDs and IEDs and being ambushed with RPGs and small arms (available on the public domain, as they video many of their attacks and then post them on the internet—www.ogrish.com-- but be warned that much of it is not for the faint of heart so don’t look for it if there are some things you would rather not see). It’s good for me to see that stuff, given my job, and it would probably be good for me to experience a convoy or two for that same reason, but I will not go out of my way to seek that particular experience.

I learned more about my job yesterday during several hours of briefing. One element will be a traditional role as a military psychologist, seeing clients/patients who walk in to our little clinic and doing psychiatric evaluations for commanders and other health care providers in my particular area of responsibility. This will probably be a small part of the job, given the size of my FOB.

The more prominent role will be doing outreach and “walkabouts”. This is comprised of just walking around, introducing myself, talking to the Chaplains and the leadership and keeping my face familiar. This will probably be the most challenging for me because I don’t think of myself as being a spontaneously social person. It will probably be easy at our small FOB—because we’ll know everyone pretty quickly—but this will be challenging when I travel to the outlying FOBs. Not only will I will be a stranger, but I’ll have three marks against me from the start: I’m an officer, I’m Air Force, and I’m a shrink. I’ll guess I’ll have to redefine myself a bit.

The third element will be doing Traumatic Event Management, or TEM. This is basically a structured debriefing procedure that Army behavioral health uses when there is some sort of traumatic event, which usually means death/injury of someone in a platoon or company. The debriefing is flexible and context dependent and can take a variety of forms. It is not empirically supported as being helpful, but there is a small amount of recent Army research that has suggested that it isn’t harmful, which has been the big controversy about debriefing in recent years. It serves as an opportunity for a third party to check in with soldiers 24-48 hours after they have experienced a severe stressor. Even if they don’t talk much, we have at least educated them about signs/symptoms of COSR (Combat Operational Stress Reactions), given them some ideas about coping, and maybe, just maybe, that one guy who is having trouble will talk to us later…

On today’s agenda is final packing, and getting a set of ACU’s (the Army Combat Uniform). We are required to wear ACU’s or a flight suit if we fly in helicopters because those uniforms are flame retardant, wear as the USAF in all it’s wisdom made our brand new ABU uniform flammable.

Some photos from around BAF:

The B-Huts I’m staying in, built by the ROK Army Engineering Group. There are 8 people per hut and each person has about 40 sq feet of space, partitioned off with 6 ft high plywood walls. They get pretty hot in the afternoon.

A French Renault APC. Yes the French have a compound here, and this group had just come back from sort of mission.

This is what we drink here—thousands of bottles of water. It is stacked on pallets all over base and is bottled in the town of Bagram. If you like to drink bottled water, then this is the place for you. You just walk up and grab a bottle. It’s free and plentiful. They incinerate all of the bottles, along with the rest of the trash that BAF generates.

This is the bunker outside my hut. They are positioned all over base but are rarely used here at BAF. It’s basically a concrete tube with open ends on each side, surrounded by sandbags.
Looks just like Vegas. The pink bus is shuttling local workers to some location on base.
Typical early morning scene on Disney Drive—the main drag on BAF.

These are those hell tents I mentioned in an earlier post, right by a fuel depot. Trust me, they are disgusting inside.

The vehicle in the front is an MRAP; a V-bottomed vehicle that is resistant to all but the largest IEDs. There are quite a few around here. This is what I would hope to ride in if I had to convoy somewhere.

The Pat Tillman USO. You gotta respect Pat Tillman for what he did. It’s a shame the Army covered up the circumstances of his death but it doesn’t detract from the meaning of his life’s story.

The Left Captain

I’m going to revisit the “Left Captain” theme, as it’s been a while since I’ve made any partisan comments, and I find myself in a dynamic process of justifying to myself why I am here, but this is normal for me. I want to think that I am a part of a honorable war effort, part of a force that is doing good things. Most soldiers/airmen who talk about justifying the war put it simple terms: we are killing terrorists who want to kill us, and that’s good enough. Simple, elegant, but it doesn’t completely work for me. Those simple terms will likely work well for me in the event that I experience 102mm Chinese rockets, or drive in a convoy anywhere near the Pakistan border, but I need more than bad guy/good guy.

I believe that NATO is justified in ousting the Taliban and has a responsibility to begin to rebuild the country, support a new government, and help keep the Taliban out (by training Afghan security forces). I think this is part of being good world citizens. The US has a special part in this, as we ignited the hottest part of the Soviet-Afghan war and then walked away, sowing the seeds of our current harvest here in Afghanistan.

Our biggest failure since 2002 has been alienating our allies. Bush is politically toxic for everyone, making it hard for nations to give blood and treasure to support what has been branded as Bush’s “War on Terror”. I get angry when I think that our leaders will not do more to develop a true coalition, using diplomacy and compromise to bring in additional reconstruction and military support from other countries. Instead they are willing to lay the burden upon the shoulders of America’s sons and daughters.

This war should be fought by international soldiers, shoulder to shoulder. It is, to a degree, but we carry the heaviest load. I don’t really blame any one person (!) and I don’t blame Europe. I’m hopeful that a leadership change in the US will lead to changes in foreign policy strategy and tactics.

But to come full circle with this, I know for sure that the vast majority of our soldiers, airmen and sailors are here meaning to do good things—leaving their homes and families and friends, risking their lives, but doing so because they believe they are doing something positive, whether it be hunting down suicide bombers, vaccinating kids, building schools and footbridges, or training Afghan doctors in Kabul.

It’s important to remember that our people are here with the intention to do something good and from what I hear, a lot of good things happen. The politics of war seem very distant and irrelevant to me, sitting over here. This is about people.
Now the contractors, they’re just here to make money, but that’s a different story.

Bagram (BAF) Part 3

Today was orientation training-- orienting us to the threats in this AOR. I'll spare you the details because you really don't want to know, and I can't talk about most of it either: a lot of it was discussing threat countermeasures, current trends, etc.

The ride out to the facility was interesting, going along the perimeter road, seeing old Soviet defensive positions and mine lines, which are corridors where the Soviets put down antipersonnel mines around the base perimeter. A bit of irony talking about defeating insurgents while sitting in a Soviet base (that was abandoned by the Soviets) getting attacked by the same guys who we trained and armed to defeat the Soviets. Anyway...

I am now confirmed on a flight manifest and scheduled to leave for my FOB this week. This is good for two reasons: (1) I leave Bagram Air Field and (2) I am not going by convoy. You can read the news and deduce for yourself why I have the second sentiment.

Related to this, I found out today that not only is Afghanistan geographically larger than Iraq, but it also has a larger population, several million more than Iraq. At the same time, the coalition forces number at less than half the numbers in Iraq. I think the ISAF (International Security Assistance Force) numbers at about 50k.

I have to admit some measure of fear now-- it's like it will get real as soon as I leave the relative safety of BAF. I've heard good things about my FOB (read: secure) and the place is not in the news, which is good. My fear is not just mortal fear but it's also fear of the unknown, fear of the distance and the time, fear of not being able to do a good job at what I am supposed to do. Like most fears, mine are exaggerated and disproportionate therefore I am confident that once I face them, they will shrink down in size... and no, by "shrink" I'm not referring to the "pucker factor".

Bagram Part 2

I need to apologize for my 11 July post-- I didn't edit it before I published and there were some typos... woops. Things are looking up today. I am keeping my good quarters (no hell tent for me) and getting adjusted to the place. I have photos to publish but no flash drive to transport them-- I accidentally left my flash drive in an MWR computer and by the time I remembered and came back a few hours later, someone had taken it. It had a few photos and a bunch of work on it, some of which I do not have backed up in my laptop. Lesson learned.
I have newcomers orientation training all day today and then some combat stress control orientation tomorrow. The earliest I may get out of here (get to the FOB) is Tuesday, but I've been told that I could wait as long as a week.
Apart from training I'm trying to get last minute shopping done-- get the things that are unavailable at the FOB, like razors, a flash drive, a pillow, DVDs. Here in the market on base you can get pirated copies of recently released movies for like 2 dollars-- the new Batman movie (in theaters next week I think), Hellboy 2, The Hulk. I watched “Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story” last night (very funny I must say)-- the guy I borrowed it from paid $2 and it was a flawless copy. I'll try to score a copy of “Kung Fu Panda” to send to the kids. If anyone wants cheap movies, let me know (that's probably illegal, so I was just joking). I'm also considering getting a prepaid Afghan Wireless cellphone-- I think incoming calls from the US might be free and people swear that most of the country has good coverage, although I have heard that the Taliban blows up cell towers on a regular basis. We'll see...

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...

Delayed!

Well, I got to Germany without a hitch and without too much pain. It was looking like we would be out of Ramstein AB on time but we sat around until they told us there was a mechanical problem and they needed to send a truck to Frankfurt to get a part. Four hours later they told us we would be delayed for 24 hours. No one is sure what happens next, but it sounds like we will be put up somewhere overnight.

In the meantime I’ve run my laptop battery down (I didn’t bring a Euro adapter) and I tried to nap on a hard bench. I can’t seem to focus enough to read… The Ramstein AB passenger terminal is nice though—very modern with exposed beams—all stainless steel and glass—even though it is a bit crowded with at least 200 people in transit. I feel really bad for the families with small children. I've seen a few little guys who are just trashed.

I’m still waiting, not much hurrying up. Maybe I’ll get a good night’s rest and my jet lag won’t be as bad as it would have been!

Baltimore

Staying at a nice hotel near the Baltimore airport. Last night I had an 11pm salad and an 11 dollar beer (it was a Duvel and yes, it was worth 11 dollars). The waiter/bartender came over and shook my hand, bought me a second beer, and said "thanks." Every few minutes the sounds of airliners arriving and departing rattles the windows. Today I slept in, answered emails, spoke on the phone, dismantled and cleaned my M16 and my M9. In total I'll get about 20 hours here at the hotel. The military is all about hurrying up and then waiting, but this is a decent way to do it. I'm quite sure that the waiting part will be much less pleasant from here on out. I'll have two major layovers in Kyrgyzstan and at Bagram Air Base before I get to my new home. Won't be able to stay at the Hilton in Bishkek, but I think I'll be interested only in getting to the FOB as soon as possible to just get it started.

I guess I'll go take my last shower in a nice bathroom-- it's one of those big glassed-in showers with granite tiles.

Broken Hearts

At 7:30 am there was a painful breaking of hearts on Short Term Parking Level 2M at McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas. Luke, Colleen, and my hearts were spilt asunder in the dimly lit parking garage. Nia was beautifully oblivious, sweetly singing the words "goodbye" to some inner tune she had playing in her head. She asked me: "you have drops in your eyes?"

By 12:00 I was eating lunch at a concourse Mexican restaurant in Phoenix, waiting for my delayed flight to start boarding. I was sitting with the Staff Sergeant who is deploying with me and another young female Airman (Airperson?) from Nellis who is deploying to Kandahar for 179 days. We had just ordered lunch and a few beers, speculating about how long our delay would be. The waitress came by smiling, and told us that our tab was being picked up by a table by the window. I looked over and saw an older man and woman wave at us. They were getting ready to leave, so I walked over to them to say "thank you". I shook their hands and expressed my appreciation. They said they had a son who was currently in the military and the gentleman said that he served 4 years during Vietnam. They asked where we were going and they wished us "Godspeed" before leaving. I was slightly embarassed, but it felt good.

Since I have worn a uniform I have always felt slightly uncomfortable when people thank me "for my service." I have felt uncomfortable because I feel like my "service" to our country is an obligation, and I also feel that it is no more deserving of thanks and praise than any of a number of other jobs. Somebody's gotta do this job, yes, but it's not like I'm a martyr. I am no infantryman either, that's for sure. Thank a teacher (they get shot at too) or a social worker, or someone who works some other unglamorous underpaid job serving others.

Nevertheless, today I was on the receiving end of many well wishes and kind gestures that ranged from simple words of comfort, offers for prayer, and people buying me tacos and beer. It made me shake off some of my typical cynicism about human nature, made me talk a little more(I typically avoid talking to strangers as if everyone were diseased), and made me smile a little more. But maybe I'm just more receptive with the raw emotional nerves of saying goodbye.

The departure makes me more open to accepting those words and actions from people who just want to express thanks, patriotism, caring, or maybe they have friends and family who have deployed. I'm not normally one to take comfort in the words of strangers, but today it felt okay. It seemed to add a little color to an emotionally bleak day.

I'm definitely going to pass those gestures on to someone down the road...

Cap'n America

Luke's friend "Cap" will be my traveling companion. Here he is posing in front of gleaming steel and marble at the Hilton. Look for more of him in the future.

Leaving Las Vegas

Thanks for all the calls and emails. I have felt the love. I depart Las Vegas tomorrow morning.

We had a great weekend here, spent doing what we usually do on weekends. I tried to soak up every last little bit, paying attention to each moment, knowing that in only 24 hours I will keenly miss even the most mundane and annoying aspects of my domestic life. I think the lesson for me is that there is really no such thing as a throw-away moment. Wouldn't it be nice if we knew that from the start?

In the early morning I have to meet some USAF people at the airport to pick up my weapons and then I'm off. Coll and the kids will drive me there and drop me off at the curb. Some people I spoke with about leaving suggested I arrange to leave the kids with someone, to avoid a scene at the airport. I laughed at the idea, because I would never do it and the kids wouldn't stand for it. I want them to know that I am leaving on an airplane, in my uniform, with big bags of stuff that they helped pack. I want them to know that I am going on a long trip because people come back home from trips-- to ride my bike, wear my clothes in the closet, play monster on the living room floor. There won't be a dry eye... I just hope that I can shake Luke off my leg.

I still haven't done a dry run on the bag drag (whether or not my full load is movable) and I've been pretty lax on the physical conditioning over the past month, so if I get to Afghanistan without a ruptured disc or pulled muscles it will be a miracle.

If friends and family are reading this (I don't know who else would be...) all I ask is that you keep an eye out for my family, give them a call or plan a visit.

I don't leave the country until Tuesday night so I'll still be taking and making phone calls through that night. I'll post on the blog through Tuesday but will probably go silent until Thursday or Friday, depending on when I next get access to a network connection.

Take care and I love you all!

Independence Day, Wieners, etc.

We got an early start on the 112 degree heat and hit the Summerlin July 4 parade for the second year in a row. The kids love it and I love it that they love it. There was about a 1/2 mile walk from the car for a spot of shade, we spread the blanket and watched the spectacle: church groups, dance academies, the VFW, the base commander from Nellis, Darth Vader...

Nia saw Chewbacca and asked Colleen: "that big hairy guy have a wiener?"

Later on, after Nia's nap, we indulged in our luxurious portable pool experience to beat the afternoon heat...

The Left Captain wearing non-permethrin treated uniform

Yesterday I finished a week of outprocessing, which entails getting around 100 signatures from 100 different offices in order to get the green light to deploy. It's a combination of an administrative and medical clearance process. I got two more anthrax vaccinations, a teeth cleaning, and a physical exam. I was given a document folder with professional credentials, NATO documents, DoD orders, my training records, medical records and flight information to get me to where I need to go.

At a hurried meeting in an anonymous Nellis AFB building I received the final stamp and was put on orders to Afghanistan despite violating one deployment requirement. During the meeting I answered "No" when asked by the mobility sergeant if I had treated my uniforms with the permethrin insect repellant they give us. The label on the repellant package clearly states: "hazardous to humans" so I decided not to apply it to my clothing. Maybe I'm an idiot but I'll wait and see how bad the bugs are... if they are bad enough to risk exposing my skin to a suspected neurotoxicant and carcinogen then maybe I will apply it to my uniforms...

My personal preparation has involved some precision packing. I have two 45 pound duffels, a 30 pound weapons case, and a 30 pound carry-on bag.

One duffel is completely filled with my Army issue of combat and load-bearing gear. I have two different types of backpacks, a ridiculous number of ammo and grenade pouches, a first aid kit, Kevlar helmet, two pairs of boots, two pairs of gloves, dust goggles and ballistic sunglasses, gun cleaning kits, a sleeping bag with Gore-Tex bivy sack, Leatherman, folding knife, strap cutter, drop leg holster, 100oz Camelbak, and some other random stuff.

The other duffel is all clothing and uniforms and my carry-on is mostly personal electronics, books and a few survival toiletries. In Kyrgyzstan I'll get even more stuff before I fly into Bagram: body armor, chem suit, and a second set of Gore-Tex jacket and pants (?)

I really have no idea of how I will carry everything from one point to another.

Chocolate and Chile

Today is July 3, so we just have a few days left. We'll go to a July 4th parade and we have plans to do lunch with friends at the Hofbrauhaus. Probably watch "Star Wars" and "Little Mermaid", play superheroes and have a tea party. I keep telling friends and family that I am trying hard to just live each moment as it comes

In that spirit, Luke and Nia and I made "Chocolate Chile Cream Pots" from the cookbook "With a Measure of Grace: The Story and Recipes of a Small Town Restaurant". We had it at the Hell's Backbone Grill in Utah, garnished with whipped cream and some kind of edible flower petals. The kids loved it, even though they knew it had red chile in it. It's pretty amazing stuff:

6 egg yolks

9 ounces sweet chocolate

2 ounces unsweetened chocolate

2 cups heavy cream

1/2 cup half & half

1/2 tsp salt

2 teaspoons powdered hot Chimayo chile

1. Whip egg yolks and set aside. Heat chocolate, cream and half & half together, stirring constantly until it is an even consistency and color. Add salt and chile powder and let simmer for one minute.

2. Pour hot chocolate mixture in with yolks and blend until smooth.

3. While mixture is still hot, pour into dessert cups and chill for one hour.

4. Garnish with whipped cream, grated chocolate

"Military see presidential race through own lens"

I've seen this topic in the news recently. I have yet to observe this political trend among my USAF and Army peers (still seems pretty darned conservative to me)... I've never fully understood the "military service" issue in conservative politics. After all, the darling of the Republican party (Reagan) never served overseas during WW II and George W. Bush was in the National Guard during Vietnam and he never served overseas. Isn't that essentially the same as having someone with no military experience?

It seems to me like it's in military voter's best interest to NOT have a long war to fight, so wouldn't that mean that the military voter would be likely to vote for anti-war candidates? Unless you like to deploy a lot... which I know is not true for most military members.

In what may be one sign of the trend, individuals who identified themselves as members of the uniformed services have donated 38 percent of their dollars to Democratic candidates, party committees and leadership PACs so far this election cycle, compared with 22 percent during the 2000 campaign overall, according to the Center for Responsive Politics, a Washington-based group that tracks political campaign money

HOT!

Just to give you an idea of how joyful Las Vegas is in the summer... the following photos. The first was taken at about 5pm and it was 109 degrees. I had just gotten out of my car (parked in the drive) and I wondered how hot it was in the car. I placed the temp sensor in the car and it got up to about 146 degrees. I took it out and put it back into the shaded carport and got a high of 116 degrees around 6:30pm. Today it was even hotter. It is a dry heat, as they say, with a humidity that hovers around 10%, but as I write this at 9:30 pm it is still 100 degrees. It is impressively hot.
The first year we lived here one of my kid's plastic cars actually melted on the back porch (it was a black car)-- the little roof caved in on itself and the windows bubbled out. I was impressed.

Afghanistan News

This is good news, since the Pakistanis need to be involved, following yesterday's news of more Taliban attacks on US forces from inside Pakistan. Recent news has been bad and it is an interesting contrast from news in early June that described the Taliban as being on the "brink of defeat".

The region I will be operating in borders the Pakistani region known as Waziristan. This region is very much the wild west of Pakistan and it is also a major base of operations for the Taliban and Al-Qaeda.

Vacation

I've been kind of lame with the blog lately, but only because I am spending every free minute with my family. I'll pick things up here in a few days.

I'm down to about one week in the USA left...

Calm #2

The second night in Boulder Utah. A little warmer, but the sun has just set over the Aquarius Plateau and the Tibetan prayer flags and wind chime over the garden are whipping in a northerly wind.

Today we attempted the Calf Creek Falls hike but aborted when the kids were on the verge of a 10am meltdown. We recovered gracefully with a short hike downstream on the Escalante River Canyon... found a small beach tucked in a riverine corridor of russian olive, tamarisk and cottonwood. Played in the clear water for hours. We chased minnows and snakes and forgot about the world beyond the canyon.

Not much of a hike, but we managed to lose ourselves.

Calm

The one electronic accessory I didn't bring on this roadtrip is the USB cable for the camera. I have great photos but no way to upload them. Pictures come later...

This moment has me sitting on a porch in remote Boulder, Utah looking south as early summer light fades over the Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument. I have my dog sleeping at my feet, a small glass of 2005 Beaujolais Villages at my elbow, and the sound of robins and wind in the cottonwoods. I'm waiting for the stars but it's a partly cloudy evening (moving slowly eastward across the sky) so I’m not hopeful. The war and the future and the Air Force and Las Vegas seem a million miles away. Tomorrow I’ll take my five year old and three year old children walking down these mysterious canyons that drain the western edge of the Colorado Plateau. We’ll be looking for smooth sand, cool water, coyote tracks and pictographs and I will be savoring every moment…

My destination

This is a photo of FOB ***** from a few years back. Looks kind of like Fort Apache from an old John Wayne film... or the Las Vegas valley without casinos and subdivisions. I've heard it's scenic, cool, and has running water.

News!

Today was a big day. I got an exact departure date (after July 4) and I found out that I am headed for some sort of forward operating base that is a short helo ride from Bagram AFB. About 60 miles from Kabul and 50 miles from the Afghan-Pakistani border—at about 8000ft in the mountains. From my initial info (gleaned from a second-hand email) it is a “good place to be” but that is accompanied with a warning to make sure that “if there are any personal hygiene items that you really like, make sure you bring them with you.” (Toothpaste?)

I sent out an email requesting more information about living conditions, what the work is like, what I need to bring… Hopefully I’ll get a more fleshed out picture in my mind. The next round of questions will be related to amount of travel outside of the wire, and frequency of rocket/mortar attacks at the location—my other two major concerns.

At the very least this gives me something to focus on. It will probably mean that I will be my own boss, and I like that. Should be interesting. I’ll keep you posted.

Yummy

I'll be dry for 6 months so I'm indulging in these during the month of June. If you can find them at your local beer purveyor you should try them out. They are brewed in Quebec, so it's my way of escaping to Canada...

Update

I'm back in Vegas and will resume posting this weekend. I'm just enjoying my family and staying away from anything else as much as possible.
I should find out my actual assignment within the next 5-6 days. Although I won't be able to publish where I will be assigned, I will at least be able to share whether or not I will be dodging mortars at a small FOB (which is what I am hoping to AVOID).

I am brave enough to publicly admit that I am a big coward. More on that later…

A week of contemplating combat stress...

I saw this in the Washington Post the other day. It reminded me of my recent time at Fort McCoy, where the sound of small arms and artillery from the dozens of firing ranges is almost constant and added to that are the sounds of various pyrotechnic devices (mortar and rocket simulators). I don't know what a battlefield sounds like, but probably something like that. That stuff is LOUD. I imagine that someone returning from Iraq or Afghanistan has problems relaxing and sleeping when they are demobilizing with that in the background, not to mention what it would be like for a Soldier with PTSD.


At the COSC course this week I have seen a wide variety of presenters from all three service branches. I've learned some useful things and I've learned that I already know a lot, which is comforting. At the very least, after having gone through this course, I won't go to Afghanistan wondering if there are things I don't know that the Army expects me to know. One of the take home messages is: wait until you get there because it is different everywhere. This is comforting on the one hand but disturbing on the other. It essentially underlines a major difficulty that the DoD has right now in dealing with behavioral health problems; that they are overstretched and don't have a coherent and integrated policy. Sound familiar?



There's been a ton of information presented this week on combat stress, PTSD, sexual assault in Iraq and Afghanistan, marital problems, drug and alcohol problems, suicide and homicide, but the overall message has been a metaphoric pat on the back for us, the wink, wink, good luck, goodbye, hang on for the ride, we are making this up as we go...

I know what I am expected to do, which is more than most people can say, I just don't know what the conditions will be. I have gathered that we go outside the wire a lot, visiting the Soldiers who are most at risk at their FOBs and COBs and radio relay stations. The scientist in me crunches the numbers, and is reassured. The chances of me getting blown up are pretty darn slim. Just to put this to bed, I hold on to thoughts of something like the Butterfly Effect, and imagine that my efforts in that theater and my words and deeds back at home will have triggered something meaningful, regardless of the trajectory of my life. That seems maudlin and dramatic, but that's okay. I suppose I'm forgiven for thinking a few dramatic thoughts about my own mortality in the context of shipping myself off to some foreign war, even though I'm more likely to die in an MVA on my way to the grocery store. What gets me is that somehow if you die on the way to the grocery store it is just dumb-tragic-luck, but if you volunteer to fight in a foreign land you have to take responsibility for the potential consequences of that extraordinary choice.

Obama...

However you feel about Obama, you have to admit that the man knows how to hit home runs with his speaking abilities (kind of refreshing, eh?)... Historical night.

Reconstitution

The Combat Stress course has, so far, been a PowerPoint-fest. On the upside I met some nice people, some smart guys flew in from Washington D.C. to present some hot-off-the-press research, and they finished off the day with a (**free**) Tex-Mex buffet and keg of Shiner Bock by the pool (it was Shiner Bock "lite" but it was free, so that made up for it being a little see-through.)

The research presented was from the most recent MHAT (Mental Health Advisory Team). This is an annual Army survey-based study of mental health issues in Iraq and Afghanistan, mostly sampling "trigger pullers" or people who are putting rounds downrange, kicking in doors, getting shot at, and getting blown up on the roads. Essentially they found what you would expect: that combat deployments cause a ton of mental health problems for Soldiers, longer deployments are more difficult, repeated deployments cause more problems, and somewhere between 20% and 30% of Soldiers are coming home from OIF and OEF with problematic psychiatric symptoms.

One of the key findings from Afghanistan was that Soldiers reported difficulty accessing behavioral health assets in theater (psychologists and other MH personnel). A major recommendation that the Army has acted upon in 2007 and 2008 is to forward deploy doctors as much as possible to the FOBS in Afghanistan, so that they are more accessible to troops who are spread across the generally remote and mountainous battlespace.

The presenter was good-- made the data interesting. During the presentation the guy next to me tapped me on the shoulder and whispered to me:

"I guess now we know who to blame if we end up getting deployed to a 100 man FOB at 8000 ft in the Hindu Kush."

I said, "At least you won't get sweaty sleeping in your body armor."

ESCAPE!

Thanks for the coffee and bagel Matt! You rock!!! I made it to San Antonio!!! And all my luggage showed up!!!

This is really why I'm going

An Army official said Thursday that 115 troops committed suicide in 2007, a nearly 13 percent increase over the previous year's 102.

Surpisingly (or not) suicide is a major issue in military mental health. Not a major issue in the sense that we just worry about it a lot, but a major issue in that suicidal active duty military members walk through our clinic doors all the time.

It's related to this (and I need to note that I did not know that 2007 had the heaviest US military casualties):

More U.S. troops also died overall in hostilities in 2007 than in any of the previous years in Iraq and Afghanistan. Overall violence increased in Afghanistan with a Taliban resurgence and overall deaths increased in Iraq, even as violence there declined in the second half of the year.

and this:

Records show roughly 40,000 troops have been diagnosed with the illness, also known as PTSD, since 2003. Officials believe that many more are likely keeping their illness a secret...
More troops also were serving their second, third or fourth tours of duty — a factor mental health experts say dramatically increases stress. And in order to supply enough forces for the buildup, officials also extended tour lengths to 15 months from 12, another factor that caused extra emotional strain.

PTSD in the news

Wartime PTSD cases jumped roughly 50 pct. in 2007

There has been a lot of PTSD press lately, and naturally I find this interesting. I guess that increased visibility is the first step towards validation for these men and women. I've noticed that discussion of PTSD is more accepted here among the Army Guard than it is in the Air Force, but it's still grossly misunderstood and no one really has any sense that there is a treatment (other than drugs) for PTSD. Even in the military medical world I have been stunned that no one really knows much about it, other than it's something you don't want, and if you get a patient who says they have it, you must immediately refer...

This weekend I'm traveling to San Antonio for a 1 week US Army course/conference on Combat Operational Stress Control. Ostensibly it will provide me with the Army doctrine for prevention and treatment of combat/ operational stress. It isn't a training for PTSD treatment (that's what I do at home), but it is the template for front-line psychological interventions for troops. I'll provide updates.

The Angry American ("we'll put a boot in your ass, it's the American way")

Combat Skills Training is complete. I'm now a trained killer-psychologist. I have the certificate that say's so. Mercifully I catch a 2:30am bus to the LaCrosse, WI airport where me and my 300 pounds of desert/urban camo gear, armor, and semi automatic weapons will be crammed onto my first of three flights. I'm sure all of it will be lost in baggage hell somewhere between rural Wisconsin and suburban Texas.

Hopefully I'll get some sleep tonight, but I'm not hopeful. As I write, most of the enlisted from my barracks are at the Fort McCoy sports bar guzzling Budweiser and hitting on the 10 or 11 lucky female Airmen who decided to hang out and drink with the boys after our graduation barbecue. This doesn't bode well for a peaceful night. The 11pm "light's out" discipline has been slipping this week anyway: last night the Airmen were ordering delivery at 11:00pm, throwing down Little Caesar's Meat Lover pizza at midnight in their bunks (each guy had his very own 2 liter bottle of Coke). Then they play dice and yell obscenities at each other.

Saturday morning will be fun for those guys. Almost every day our Chief Master Sergeant wakes up at 5am and blasts his music over his cheap iPod docking station-- the late night pizza guys hate it... because they hate country music and they want to sleep off the soporific effects of synthetic mozzarella and a Coke hangover. Chief's favorite song is "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American)" by Toby Keith and on any given morning we will hear it at least three to four times. He also plays "Have you Forgotten?" by Darryl Worley at least once a morning. The Chief finds it very inspiring and contemplative and he can't see how anyone would not be moved... actually he would conclude that if you don't like it, then you must be a gay communist.

It's in this context that I've asked the guy in the bunk next to me to "please shoot me now" at least three or four times this month.

I've included the lyrics below. Amusing, depressing, or inspiring? I'll let you decide.

Next stop San Antonio, TX.


"Have you Forgotten?"

I hear people sayin'. We Don't need this war.
I say there's some things worth fightin' for.
What about our freedom, and this piece of ground?
We didn't get to keep 'em by backin' down.
They say we don't realize the mess we're gettin' in
Before you start preachin' let me ask you this my friend.
Have you forgotten, how it felt that day?
To see your homeland under fire
And her people blown away
Have you forgotten, when those towers fell
We had neighbors still inside goin through a livin hell
And you say we shouldn't worry bout Bin Laden
Have you forgotten?
You took all the footage off my T.V.
Said it's too disturbin for you and me
It'll just breed anger is what the experts say
If it was up to me I'd show it everyday
Some say this country just out lookin' for a fight
Well after 9/11 man I'd have to say right.
Have you forgotten, how it felt that day?To see your homeland under fire
And her people blown away
Have you forgotten when those towers fell
We had neighbors still inside goin' through a livin' hell
And we vow to get the ones behind Bin LadenHave you forgotten?
I've been there with the soldiers who've gone away to war
you can bet they remember just what they're fightin' for
Have you forgotten
All the people killed
Yes some went down like heroes
In that Pennsylvania field
Have you forgotten
About our Pentagon
All the loved ones that we lost
And those left to carry on
Don't you tell me not to worry 'bout Bin Laden
Have you forgotten?
Have you forgotten?
Have you forgotten?!


"Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American)"

American Girls and American Guys
We’ll always stand up and salute
We’ll always recognize when we see Old Glory Flying
There’s a lot of men dead so we can sleep in peace at night when we lay down our head
My daddy served in the army where he lost his right eye
But he flew a flag out in our yard until the day that he died
He wanted my mother, my brother, my sister and me
To grow up and live happy in the land of the free.
Now this nation that I love has fallen under attack
A mighty sucker punch came flying in from somewhere in the back
Soon as we could see clearly through our big black eye
Man, we lit up your world like the 4th of July
Hey Uncle Sam put your name at the top of his list
And the Statue of Liberty Started shaking her fist
And the eagle will fly
Man, it’s gonna be hell
When you hear Mother Freedom start ringing her bell
And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you
Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue
Justice will be served and the battle will rage
This big dog will fight when you rattle his cage
And you’ll be sorry that you messed with The U.S. of A.
'Cause we'll put a boot in your ass it's the American way
Hey Uncle Sam put your name at the top of his list
And the Statue of Liberty started shaking her fist
And the eagle will fly man, it’s gonna be hell
When you hear Mother Freedom Start ringing her bell
And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you
Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue

Walking in other people's shoes

I guess you have to personally experience some things to really understand them.

I’ve worked with military families for almost three years now, mostly the moms and dads, married couples, a few teenagers here and there. I’ve heard horrible stories of overburdened spouses, the financial problems, the infidelity, the worry, the stress, the fear, the loss. For a long time now I’ve known that the life of the OEF/OIF military spouse is no party. The longer I work in military mental health the more I realize that the family that is left behind by the soldier is frequently overlooked and under-serviced, even though they may be just as stressed (albeit in different ways) as the deployed member. I’ve known this, but haven’t felt it.
I think a lot about my family and I’ve recently felt guilty about putting my kids through this deployment. They didn’t agree to it, they don’t want it, and they don’t understand it. When I leave, all the parenting and household responsibilities fall upon Colleen, and she has to take care of herself in the middle of all that… when all I have to take care of is myself and my job. All I’m saying is that the families need as much support, attention and accolades as the deployer…

Colleen is down sick this week and yet the demands of the day don’t stop. I may as well be a million miles away. I feel helpless… I’m starting to personally feel it and understand it.

Admin note

Please note that I enabled an email button at the bottom of each post. You can email the weblog post to yourself or to whomever. Also, feel free to make comments. Thanks!

Getting what I wished for

Things are winding down here for class 08-03 of the 602nd Training Squadron. There are a few classes still running through the 28th, with the 29th and 30th left for outprocessing. I’m not sure of our exact numbers, but there are about 120 of us getting ready to leave. All of us will be spread throughout Iraq and Afghanistan within the next two months. Our career fields are diverse: intelligence, transportation, communication, mental health, civil engineering. All of us are being pulled away from our traditional Air Force roles to be placed in Army roles, because of Army manning shortfalls. These are known as ILO (in lieu of) deployments. As in, I am being deployed in lieu of an Army psychologist. From a top down perspective this makes a lot of sense, since all of the services have people who do the same things, why not deploy them wherever we need them versus keeping sailors on boats and airmen at airfields?
This has been a fast change for our military, as we have to quickly re-engineer our forces to be able to support two separate hostile occupations in addition to our other big foreign commitment in Korea. I find it ironic that back in 2004 I spent so much time and thought considering clinical residencies in each of the services, carefully weighed the pros and cons of each, chose the Air Force, and yet here I am at Fort McCoy, getting ready to deploy with the Army.
I’m not bitter, honest. I have always said that the real work for psychologists is with the Army. They have a huge population of people who are under immense stressors. I used to say that the work I really wanted to do was with the Army, but I didn’t join specifically because I didn’t want to be deployed for 12 months or more, so it’s kind of funny that I am getting what I asked for… is my mouth writing checks that I can’t cash? I think I’ll be okay… this is the Army after all… the same organization where it is necessary to specifically teach soldiers NOT to apply tourniquets to an injured person’s neck.
But seriously, a friend made a valid point yesterday, insinuating that my sanity may be questionable for putting myself in a position to go off to support a war that I don’t believe in at the behest of a president whom I didn’t vote for. So this is my thumbnail explanation: it’s as simple as service to fellow Americans. I believe that it’s important to provide some sort of national service. This can be accomplished in many different ways of course, but for better or worse I have chosen to provide four years of service to those who fight the wars. War causes a lot of damage under the best of circumstances, and these convoluted, non-lethal wound generating, danger-is-everywhere conflicts have a steep price for those involved. I don’t see myself as a force multiplier, but I mitigate damage as it is being done and help clean up after the damage has been done (no one in the military comes to see me for preventative services anyway). When all is said and done, I know I will be proud to have walked down that road with these service members and their families, and hopefully I will have made a difference in many of their lives.

Upcoming movie: "The Road"

I don't know if I will be able to go see this movie. The book about broke my heart. If I do see I'm sure I will be a complete mess...

Memorial Day (Monday)

Memorial Day festivities in the woods: Army Warrior Training Part II. We high crawled, low crawled, threw grenades from kneeling and standing positions, and popped off alot of blank rounds. This was a half day activity taught by some guys who were eager to get us through the course ASAP so they could go drink beer. That was OK by me. This was my last course at CST. I followed this with two hours of basketball with the enlisted guys, our barracks versus the other barracks. Tomorrow I guess I'll start packing.

Backdoor draft

I periodically read other deployment blogs. Most of them are only sporadically updated, some are a little too personal (over-disclosure), and some are just about plain old opinion-broadcasting. I don't think I avoid disclosure or broadcasting my opinion, but I try to walk the line. I temper myself by trying to think of a potential employer (or customer) accessing the blog. That will hopefully keep me toned down.

I was recently reading a blog about an Army Capt's deployment to Iraq. I feel bad for him. He had separated from active duty but was called up from individual ready reserve (IRR) status two years after he got out. This is known as the "backdoor draft", which includes the Army "stop-loss" program. These are manpower tools that the DoD uses to make up for the fact that someone, somewhere, didn't plan so well for manpower needs in Iraq and Afghanistan, and an actual draft is a political nightmare. It's easier and cheaper to make a soldier stay beyond his committment or bring him back from the reserves than it is to recruit and train a new soldier. The IRR is supposed to be the bottom of the barrel, but the US Army has scraped it several times in the last few years. The Marines have also done it, and the USAF to a lesser extent. Lucky for me there are lots of psychologists in the USAF reserves who will be called up before they find me hiding down at the bottom of the barrel from 2009 through 2013.

Anyway, the Army Captain: he's safe at home now, but many of comments and descriptions are consistent with my own experience of spinning up for deployment and the Army in general. He discloses a bit more than I would, but his comments are funny:

"Pursuant to Presidential Executive order of 14 Sep 2001, you are relieved (haha!) from your present reserve status and ordered to report for a period of Active Duty . . . . not to exceed 545 days, unless extended or terminated by proper authority". Those words turned an ordinary day upside down and threw my quasi-normal life out the window.It was about a week before Thanksgiving, and at the time I was still working night shift. I typically slept during the day when I worked nights, and when Rache came home with Chester, he'd sprint upstairs to lick my face and wake me up, and Rache would give me a kiss hello. Today though, Rachael sat on the edge of the bed and started to cry (Chester, unaware anything was wrong, continued to lick my face). She handed me a large yellow envelope marked overnight priority from the Department of Defense. Now I was worried, because the Army never actually pays to send you anything. Inside was a folder with some info, and a one page sheet that looked very familiar - official DA orders. I read the 1st line (quoted above) and my heart sank, and I felt a strange pain like someone had just kicked me in the balls. After about 10 minutes where Rachael sobbed on my shoulder and I yelled disbelieving profanities, we settled down enough to call our parents and break the news. Poor Chester didnt know what the hell was going on, so he kept a timid distance for a while. That was a tough night, and I knew there were going to be many more. I called my boss and told him I wouldnt be in the rest of the week, and being an ex-82nd Airborne guy and a friend, he understood. So Rache and I got drunk, cried with our parents (yes, I cried for the 1st time in about 10 years), and went to sleep hoping we'd wake up and this would be a bad dream. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

Memorial Day

Over 36,000 troops wounded in Iraq and Afghanistan, more than half under the age of 24. If you want to donate any money you should consider Wounded Warrior Project. They are very active picking up where the DoD and VA leave off and are active lobbying for more federal support for wounded veterans.

In a remarkable display of military efficiency, I am now scheduled for one class over the next seven days. I don’t why it ended up this way, but it’s a big waste of people’s time and government money. A lot of people are upset over this, especially folks who are deploying straight to Iraq from this training. They’re bitter that they have to sit here on post under General Order No. 1, when they could be spending a few extra days with family before leaving the country. If I think about it too much I could also get bitter, so I try not to think about that. It is what it is. One senior NCO in our command actually told us to “stay motivated even if we have to be motivated while doing nothing.” Today we had a one hour block of instruction and the rest of the day free. The holiday weekend is completely open. On the surface this seems like a good situation, but when you are restricted to Fort McCoy it becomes less than good. Luckily I have made a few good friends with whom to pass the time and I have been logging huge hours at the gym. I’ve finished two books, listened to over 500 tracks on my iPod, watched several DVDs and I’ve been able to write almost everyday. Parole board meets in less than a week.

Baghdad Bureau

I've followed this blog for a little while. Interesting and seemed to echo some of my thoughts from yesterday.

M9 Range

Me (in the middle) and Jim and Kevin.