Two Years Later: The End/Disclaimers

May 27, 2012

Disclaimer #1, to the readers of this blog:

The last entry I made here was in August of 2010 I think. Obviously, since I am writing this nearly 2 years later, a lot has happened since that last entry, including my end of active service from the USMC. Another thing that happened after that last entry was that I took this blog off the grid because it had been discovered by someone who was in Kajaki at the same time I was. You can see his amusing comment on that last post, anonymous of course. I have already been formally punished by my former CO for writing this blog. So if any more gung-ho staff ncos or officers come rampaging into this webspace thinking they're going to wave a finger around and get me in trouble...again, then this is the disclaimer for you. You're late to the party; I stood before the man almost 2 years ago. Go find someone else to pick on.

Disclaimer #2, to people who appear in this blog:

Towards the end of my deployment I was more careful about not using names in here than I was at the beginning. If you appear in this blog and want me to take your name off, send me an email and let me know the exact post and where you appear in. The only people I disparaged in these entries were General McChrystal and two staff ncos who were identified by my command due to their billets being referenced. Anyone else I mentioned only to identify their participation in certain events taking place around me. I can understand if you don't want to be named though, so I'll remove you at your request.

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Now that those are out of the way I thought I'd just write a few words. I thank everyone who read this blog and emailed me for various reasons during my deployment two years ago. Again, that was a while back and a lot has happened so this feels kind of weird to write. Obviously I would've written this entry in 2010, but since I had been discovered I got really paranoid and took my blog off the net right away. It didn't matter; they actually had the whole thing printed out on a desk at Lejeune anyway. It really sucked because I was on leave at the time Mr. Perfect contacted my unit to tell them about my blog, so I spent the last week or so at home feeling really nervous and paranoid, and stupid honestly.

Like I said, my active service is now over though, so I'm bringing this blog back for anyone who's interested in reading. This is a pretty important chapter in my life and I'd rather not have it be silenced for all eternity. It can be my historical record of participation in Operation Enduring Freedom 10.1 (for which I received three letters of appreciation).

For whatever reasons you read this, I'd like to give you a word of warning. These journal entries were not written by a calm and collected individual. They were written by a really stressed out, pissed off, frustrated Marine who perceived the world differently than most people around him at the time. I'm not apologizing for anything that's written here, but it's not G rated. If you're looking for a flag waving portrayal of our nation's fighting force in Afghanistan, look elsewhere. And if you know me personally and are reading this story for the first time, you may be shocked at how blunt my words are. Just be prepared for things to be unpleasant.

Last, I'd like to extend my personal thanks to the service members fighting for our freedom everyday. I worked with a lot of them, and while I didn't get along with many and have a pretty sour taste in my mouth from my four years in the Marines, I respect our armed forces and will always hold them generally in high regard. It's just not the life for me.

Thanks,

John

Kajaki Highlights: Part 2

August 19, 2010
Camp Lejeune
17:20

(Cont'd)

The Brits
The mission at hand when I arrived in Kajaki was to replace the Brits and bring in an American artillery unit. When I think about this, I'm actually kind of honored to have been there. I was with the first group of landing support marines to represent the United States in Kajaki, and that's something I can take with me for the rest of my life, although I'm not getting any medals for it. It doesn't really mean too much to anyone else either; no one knows what Kajaki is.

Naturally, there was a group of British servicemembers assigned to help with the outgoing materials. They weren't Royal Marines like the others, rather they were soldiers. They had a Staff Sergeant (SSgt W) with them, who I was honestly really inspired by. I'm not sure if I've met someone in the military who has more common sense, or someone with more deployment experience. He has that combined, and then some.

SSgt W (one rank away from sergeant major) had deployed for the 13th time when I met him, and had spent a total of 16 years in the military. He led a rotating group of about three other people at a time rigging up the outgoing cargo in the British cargo nets. So, through them, I was able to learn a lot about the British military and get to know them personally. I was also able to do external lifts for the first time with CH-47 Chinooks and the two seperate types of Russian civilian helicopters. I was also able to supervise them during their first external lifts with CH-53E Super Sea Stallions. It was a pretty rewarding experience.

Boredom
One of the ways to cope with boredom (we had no electricity in our house) is to figure out new things to do that you don't normally do. I read a lot of books in a row, that's not exactly abnormal, but I didn't really have the chance to do that before this time. We spent time breaking a huge rock with a sledgehammer, and then afterwards considered the consiquences of the pulverized dust entering our lungs. I started listing my high school classes with the teachers and surprisingly remembered about 95% of them.

Mail
Sgt B (my platoon sergeant at the time) arrived in Kajaki to sort of survey the area after we'd been there for about a week. He brought some mail with him and I had a few envelopes, a couple Moto Mails, and a larger envelope. I opened it and it turned out to be an election ballot for a Champaign election of some sort that expired in February. Keep in mind this is June, and the ballot was issued in January. This is one of the reasons the actual postal service should be handling mail, and not the USMC.

Swimming
Yes, you read that right. Swimming. The Kajaki Dam was a prominent feature in the area, and of course, right behind it was a gigantic lake. The Brits made a regular activity of going out to the Dam (a couple miles from the FOB) and swimming, granted one person, at least, always was providing security while the others were swimming. So, one day, after ar really long morning at the LZ, I decided to stay and show the Brits how to rig a load with one of our US nets that had been lying around. Afterwards, it was just me and one other guy from my detachment and we went swimming in the lake. One of the more surreal experience of the deployment no doubt. It's not often you go swimming with a guard watching for the Taliban right behind you. Plus, it was a good way to make people jealous when I returned to Leatherneck.

Radio
One of the more frustrating things during my time in Kajaki was to listen to the idiots in the artillery battery talk on the radio. For about a week, I was required to always have our radio on in case they needed us for something. These people were probably the most unprofessional people speaking on a radio I've ever heard, and they actually had a serious mission to accomplish. You don't say "Repeat" on the radio, and they should know that because it has to do with artillery. If you say it, it means you want the next fire mission repeated. You say "I say again" not "I repeat," which they did...constantly. You also DO NOT say "over and out," because saying "over" implies you're waiting for a response and saying "out" means you're done talking. I couldn't believe that in the middle of a serious mission, these fools couldn't even get the simplest of radio etiquet correct.

ICOM
ICOM is the name of the radio network that the coalition forces use to listen in on Taliban radio conversations. Yes, we can always hear them. They refer to us as "The Sons of Bush" apparently. One day at the LZ, the afghans up at the house were listening to the ICOM really loud, and there were no patrols out that day. So, I was hearing actual Taliban voices conversating. Except it really sounded like they were just getting high and laughing over their radio.

Kajaki Highlights: Part 1

August 18, 2010
Camp Lejeune
20:25

I apologize for leaving you behind, it wasn't really my intention, but it seems like it always turns out this way for me and the projects I'm working on.

I'm going to begin this with a brief side note:

Yesterday, I went to what I wouldn't really want to call an awards ceremony. It was a ceremony for a marine being presented a Purple Heart medal. I won't describe the long history of this particular medal; you can look that up for yourself.

The marine being awarded it was part of my battalion, though in a different company, so I don't personally know him. We all gathered in a large formation, and the commanding general of the 2nd Marine Logistics Group came out to pin the medal on the man's chest.

This sergeant, who will now be awarded his second combat action ribbon, was missing a hand along with about half of his front teeth, and his face is now badly scarred, and probably will remain in such a condition for the rest of his life. He would have been given the same medal even if he did not return.

The event was a harsh reminder that I am blessed to have returned to tell the rest of my story. It could have very well been lost for ever, and in many other cases with many other young men and women, it is lost.

I know I've mentioned it in the past, while I was overseas, but I'm not sure if I actually posted this list I made. It's a list of dates for each angel ramp ceremony I participated in whilst working at Camp Bastion in early 2010. This list is another harsh reminder to us. The war at hand isn't simply fought by people in offices pushing buttons; it's a war of human losses. The number beside each date reflects the amount of caskets loaded in each ceremony.

February 16 (1)
February 17 (2)
February 18 (5)
February 19 (2)
February 21 (2)
February 22 (3)
February 26 (1)
March 4 (1)
March 5 (1)
March 22 (1)

Kajaki Hightlights: Part I

Everything I have to say on the subject of Kajaki is more interesting or informative than anything I have to say about either Camp Bastion, or Camp Delaram II. Kajaki has always been a place where "it's really happening." That is to say, it was absolutely nothing like the other two places I'd been in Afghanistan. Almost every day during my first week there, the British Royal Marine Commandos patrolled on foot and received enemy fire from the Taliban. This exchange of fire was often in earshot of the people living at FOB Zeebrugge, the base in the district where I lived. For once, I actually felt like I was in a warzone.

I could try and lump the highlights of this experience into categories ranging from surreal, to horrific, or even humorous, but I think I'm just going to start listing them out in the order I wrote reminders to myself to tell the stories.

Cobras
Within a week of arriving in Kajaki, it became apparent that we were completely surrounded by the Taliban. This isn't really anything new to the area, and we were told outright that this was the case. But, if no one had said anything to me about the situation, I wouldn't have realized it one morning while we (myself and the three others in my detachment) were wasting away in our house.

I think I was reading a book (one of ten I read while deployed) and lying on my cot. There was suddenly a very abrupt sound from overhead, unmistakeably the sound of a .50 caliber machine gun.

I'd been very near a loud explosion in Delaram, but I'd never heard any kind of weapon actually being fired at the enemy before. We all ran outside and looked up, and there it was: a cobra attack helicopter. At least I think they're cobras, I don't personally know the exact model or if that's even what they are.

To be honest, it was a pretty surreal experience. You don't expect to see something like that in your lifetime, even if you're in the military, and especially in a non-combat role. It fired off a few more rounds, and then it was gone.

Condition 1
I had gone condition 3 (magazine loaded, no round in chamber) with my M-16 on the convoy to Marjeh a couple months before. I never expected that I would actually load a round into the chamber of the weapon and possibly be ready to pull the trigger while pointing it at a human being.

Within just a few days of arriving at Kajaki, we were scheduled to be flying in most of the Americans that would replace the Brits at the FOB. There were many flights scheduled to come in during one day, and I wasn't looking forward to working them all. I believe it was around five or 6 in the morning.

After the second mission flew in, one of the CH-53Es landed and a crewmember ran out to speak with my corporal, who had received some distressing news on the radio, but I wasn't aware of this at the time.

I asked the guy next to me what was going on after he'd exchanged some words with Cpl B (who I will refer to my NCO as from this point on). He simply said "They said the Taliban's circling around out there!" and I was very confused.

Cpl B returned to us (the other guy with me and our platoon commander, Lt C). "They need a QRF now," he shouted over the sound of the helicopter's engines. I was very unsettled at this point because I had no idea what was about to happen to me. The Brits at the LZ looked very confused as well, and stood waiting while we bounded across the LZ to the helicopter. A QRF is a Quick Response Force, a group of people who are ready to exit the FOB at all times to respond to enemy action, or whatever needs a response. The four of us entered the helicopter and sat down.

I began to realize that my rifle was extremely dirty, and if I actually fired it, it'd probably have a hard time chambering the next round. Cpl B and Lt C loaded their rounds and the other guy with me extended a fist for me to pound. I did it even though I was really nervous. I loaded my magazine and waited after the bird took off and started flying over the mountainous terrain.

Then we landed, and I had no idea why (because I had no idea what was going on). Lt C looked at me and yelled "You're with me!" and I followed her out the back of the vehicle into dust with a visibility of about seven feet. We were running and I started freaking out. What if this was it? My entire life...over because of one surprise event. Kajaki would be the end. I was seriously thinking these things; I had never thought I'd have a round in the chamber of my weapon. This was (and still is I think) the worst day of my life.

We ran through the dust, the helicopter then took off behind us, and when the dust cleared we were face to face with another 53 on the ground ahead. So, then I realized we had to provide security for a downed helicopter in the middle of the desert. When I could see my surroundings, it wasn't very reassuring. We were pretty much in a basin, surrounded by mountains, and they'd told us that people were closing in on them. A crewmember came out and told us where to go, and we formed the four corners of a box around the vehicle.

Without any source of water (since I was completely unprepared), I stood in the desert sun for around three hours. Is that a person? Something's moving over there! What is that!? Oh no, it actually is a person walking around over there! What should I do? Should I tell someone? Oh yeah, this is Afghanistan and there are mines everywhere and I'm walking out in the middle of them!

The Royal Commandos arrived and provided more security. Parts were flown in. Lt C got each of us a bottle of water from the flight crew. The pilots didn't leave their seats. The helicopter was fixed. We got on the helicopter. We flew away. And now that it's over, I'll probably hate helicopters for the rest of my life.

Mortars
One day I was standing near one of the entrances to the FOB and there was a very close bang. No one really did anything because EOD had been blowing something up every 20 minutes or so for the past couple days, so loud explosions were pretty common. Yes, unfortunately you get used to crazy things like this when you deal with it every twenty minutes for multiple days at a time.

I finally realized that there were mortars near that entrance, and they were being fired in support of a patrol that was going out. The Brits were firing them, and they were basically wearing almost nothing. My impression of them at that point was that if they were wearing long sleeves, something serious was about to go down.

The Brits are actually issued sandals, and throughout the day they wear shorts and a t-shirt along with said sandals. I wore boots 24/7 and had the worst athlete's foot I could imagine. They were wearing sandals.

Claymores
One day we had a flight at the main LZ. The EOD warrant officer and Air Force captain were there. They were about to blow things up. The warrant officer asked if I'd ever seen claymores detonated, and invited me and the other guy with me to see it up close, about ten feet away.

It looked like dirt flying up into the air and it was pretty loud.

Then they shot a LAW (I think) rocket at a mountain.

Humvee Drop
A very large part of my job deals with external loads being attached to helicopters. I either attach it, or I take the sling off of the load when it is dropped. During the second week at Zeebrugge, four humvees were scheduled to be flown in and dropped at the LZ.

The first two came in fine, the helicopter dropped it in the middle of the LZ and there weren't any problems. The British staff sergeant was pleased. I was happy. The third humvee was flown right over a house that a bunch of Afghan guys live in and a whole lot of crap started flying around. I'm talking corrugated metal that could seriously hurt a person, and now the Afghans were pissed.

Then...the fourth humvee is flown in. The fourth humvee once again goes right over the house, the downwash blowing everything around again. The Brits are pissed about this because not in the past four years of them occupying the area have any of their pilots behaved in this manner. The humvee is brought about thirty feet from where I'm standing (I have a picture of this) and set down. Are you friggin' kidding me!? YOU'RE REALLY GOING TO FLY A 20,000 POUND VEHICLE OVER MY HEAD AND DROP IT RIGHT NEXT TO ME! THAT'S WHAT THE LZ IS FOR, YOU FREAKING MORON! THAT'S WHY I'M NOT STANDING ON THE LZ!!!

I snap a picture, and when I'm putting my camera away, the helicopter explodes! At least that was my first thought. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see fire spraying out the sides of the bird. I looked up after ducking down to see about six more flares fly out the side of the helicopter.

...are the pilots trying to kill us down here...?

I stood there dumbfounded for a moment and the bird landed to retract its external hook. Then SSgt W (British) approaches me with his helmet on, furious, screaming...I'm pretty freaked out because he'd always been one of the most laid back and calm people I've ever met...ever.

"CAN YOU GO HAVE A WORD WITH YOUR PILOTS AND TELL THEM IF THEY KEEP FUCKING FLYING OVER THOSE GUYS UP THERE THEY'RE GONNA COME DOWN HERE AND FUCKING SHOOT US!"

Was what I mainly got from his screaming. I know that these air wingers really aren't going to take much of what I say to heart, especially since I'm not an NCO. I told him I'd take him over to them and let him talk to him, which I did, and they didn't give a crap about anything he had to say, which is exactly what I expected.

And they continued to fly directly over the house from then on.

Angry Afghans
So, now that the Afgans living in the house next to the LZ were thoroughly pissed, I was pretty nervous. They worked for a private security company and all had AK-47s. So, the next time the American pilots destroyed their house with downwash, they were probably already back in Camp Bastion by the time the closest American had to answer for their carelessness. Me.

I'm with the Brits. There are no interpreters around. The air traffic control captain is coming down from his mountain to talk to us.

The Afghans come down to the LZ holding their AKs and I made eye contact with one so I'm pretty sure he started talking shit to me in Pashtu.

My life is not very pleasant at this point in time.

Happy Afghans
The same Afghans that came down talking a bunch of crap actually came down stoned one time. They brought their cellphones and started playing porn for us, which was very awkward. I really cannot describe how awkward it is, there's no way for me to convey it to you. Don't even bother trying to tell me that you understand where I'm coming from, you just don't, and I don't blame you for it.

They were also smoking weed and one pulled a small bag out of his pocket which we told him to replace right away.

Dogs
There were six dogs at Zeebrugge.

One dog was named AK and looked like a polar bear. He was bleeding from a different wound every day, as he fought an ongoing battle with jackals every night. He had no ears and no tail. He was fairly friendly though and enjoyed attention. AK was apparently fed protein shakes by the Brits as a puppy and he also went on patrols with them regularly. He barked at the Afghan National Police when they came to the FOB, but was comfortable around Caucasians.

Another dog was bigger than him, and really dumb and lazy. He looked even more horrifying; I don't think I've seen a dog with a bigger head, but he was probably the most friendly dog I've ever met in my life. Making eye contact with this dog would ensure that he'd lay on his side and raise a paw to make it easy for you to pet his stomach. A marine poured some food in a bowl one morning to feed him breakfast and put it on a ledge. This dog picked the bowl up so he could set it down in front of his feet and use less energy to eat. Likewise, one of the guys with my detachment used a fork to put to sausages in his mouth, and he let them fall onto the ground so he could eat them at his own pace.

One of the dogs was named Todo, and she was a puppy. She was very obnoxious sometimes and came into the house taking things like socks and burying them in the front yard. A lot of the brits didn't really like her and wouldn't feed her because she didn't go on patrols or kill jackals.

The second female dog was named Missy, and she was the same color (or mixture of colors) as the biggest dog on the base. She seemed softer and cleaner than the others, and had a very mild temperament. She broke one of her back legs somehow and was stabbed to death outside the back gate by a bunch of laughing marines who had apparently been starved of violence.

The fifth dog was light brown and wouldn't go anywhere near people, but still stayed on the base. I tried to get close to him multiple times, but he was just very sceptical of people.

The last dog was a big lab, I think. He was white, but yellowish because he was dirty. One night around 3AM we returned from a flight and found him wandering the base with Todo at his side. He'd been nailed in the side of the face by a porcupine (which we'd been told were in the area). I'm telling you, this porcupine must have been affected by radioactive material. These needles were longer than my hand from wrist to middle finger. That's not exaggeration; I have a picture. His entire cheek below his eye was basically covered, with these needles exposed about six inches out of his skin. Wow.

Almost There

August 1, 2010
Kajaki, Afghanistan
02:00

Ok, I've got a few stories about Kajaki before this blog is finished with, so don't worry. I'm not saying goodbye yet. Just give me a few days and I'll update you on the past two months; they've been the most interesting and eventful of the entire deployment.

John

Civilization?

Kajaki, Afghanistan
June 8, 2010
Time...I don't know...sometime around 7:35....

We left Delaram on a crappy helicopter flight, which is the only way to do it, so no choice in that matter. Of course, it was late, AND the weather was bad in Bastion so the flight to "KJI" was cancelled and we had to spend the day at Leatherneck. I hadn't taken a shower in a couple days (this is on June 1st and I JUST took a shower yesterday).

The day spent in Leatherneck was crappy. I hate it there more than ever now; it's just a big zoo. Too many people...traffic...too many high ranking people, etc. Our flight went out at 8PM and we headed for "KJI." I didn't know the name of where we were going yet, just the three letter code. Really, I hardly knew anything.

The flight was a little on the longer side as we had to go to the North Eastern corner of the Helmand province, and eventually arrived at Kajaki, which is the home of a FOB (that I can't spell) which is operated by the British military, so it was very refreshing to be one of only less than 10 marines. It was strange once we landed; the landscape was completely different, even in the dark.

I could tell the area was much more mountainous, and there were Afghan civilians yelling things at the truck we were riding in as we were driving through the Afghan freaking town of Kajaki in the middle of the night. They were waiting for things to fall off the trailer so they could snag them, but luckily we didn't lose anything.

We arrived through the gate and it was really confusing to tell where the actual boundaries were. The Brits appeared to be living in the middle of a town, which yes...for all intents and purposes, we are. A US marine captain dressed in British clothes gave is a bit of a brief of the area and we went to sleep.

Quick Note: The area we're living in is an old R&R center for Soviets from the 79-89 occupation. There's a building on the other side of the wall from where I live where apparently a bunch of them were skinned alive by Afghans, and it's haunted. I've taken some pictures of it, but it's outside the wire so I can't test the haunting theory.

The first night, we moved into a house. We moved into a freaking house! Not a tent, a house. Though...it didn't have any power, and still doesn't. No air conditioning. There's a bird's nest inside...with birds in it. The mama bird flies in and out feeding the babies all day long, with them chirping annoyingly. We had no cots the first night, so everyone was nervice about sleeping on the floor, and I didn't have a matt, so I literally slept on the floor. It was great when someone found a scorpion in the next room and everyone flipped out. I was just lying there in the dark trying not to think about it. They kipped the scorpion; we fell asleep. My back hurt the next day.

A gunnery sergeant (one of the few marines here at the time) gave us a quick tour. There's a memorial cross with the names of the British marines and soldiers who've died here. There are a lot of names. We're told that we're surrounded by Taliban. Great...

There are six dogs in the FOB. They look insanely scary when you first see them, at least the big males. Then, when you make eye contact with them, (even the huge ones) they drop down and roll onto their side, lifting one of their front paws so you can pet their chest and stomach. Then they pretty much pass out in extasy as you pet them. There is a white alpha male with his ears chewed off and scars on his face. He doesn't really take as much pleasure in being pet, but he doesn't stop you. The dog who's bigger than him though is the laziest of them all. There's a small puppy who came into our house and stole my corporal's card deck box and chewed it in the back yard.

There's a cat...her name is apparently "Tits." She has three kittens.

The British go on patrols, the second day we were here someone got shot on a patrol, and lived.

The second helicopter mission we had came in yesterday and they wouldn't land because they claimed there was too much gear on the LZ. In their holding pattern, one of them broke down outside the wire and me, my corporal, platoon commander, and another marine had to be a Quick Reaction Force (QRF) for the broken down bird. This made me very nervous because I was told the Taliban were circling the area and that's why we were going.

On the helicopter, I loaded a magazine and chambered a round. This is the first time I've gone condition one in Afghanistan. We got off the helicopter and ran around in the dust, locating the downed bird. The crew chief told us where to set up a perimeter, and it was just the four of us guarding the bird. I was freaking out because I could see people walking around in the distance, but there were cobras flying above providing security. We heard cobras shooting at something the other day with their .50 Caliber machineguns.

Eventually, another helicopter landed and a team of British Royal Marine Commandos jumped off carrying enormous sniper rifles and machine guns which they set up in a perimiter joining with us. Then they laid down on the ground...

So, I at least sat down because i'd been standing there for 90 minutes without water, and if the elite guys are seriously lying down on the ground, I'm sitting. That's just how it is; I am sitting down if the commandos are relaxing.

In total, we spent 3.5 hours standing around the helicopter while the crew fixed it. I went from extremely tense, to extremely bored, to extremely dehydrated and on the verge of insanity. We were told to watch our step because the whole area was mined. All the mines from the Soviet ocupation are still here. The country is a mess.

After that, we were pretty much done for the day. I feel like punching whoever's in charge of maintenance for that squadron, which I could name, but probably shouldn't. Hats off to the security squadron who circled overhead for the entire time. One of them let off a burst at something, and we later found out that there were two militants with AK-47s riding around us on motorcycles, but they put the guns away when the cobras came close. So...yeah, there were Taliban watching us the whole time.

In the end though, I like this place better than Delaram or Leatherneck. There aren't as many people, we pretty much do whatever we want when we're not working. We don't have to clean. We don't really need haircuts, because it's kind of impossible. There aren't REAL showers, but that's a small trade to make for such a relaxed lifestyle here.

Still though, I need a drink.

B(e)R(ight)B(ack)

June 1, 2010
Delaram 2, Afghanistan
04:11

(I can't believe it's June already! Add me to the list of people who say that today.)

Later today, I'm going to be leaving on a mission to resupply some folks out in a really remote area of the country. The FOB starts with the letter K, although I don't recall what it actually is called. I don't know exactly where it is. I don't know exactly what I'm going to be doing. I don't think I'll have laundry facilities. I don't know if there will be showers. I don't know if there will be bathrooms. I'm taking four books and a camera and that's it. Life will probably suck for the next thirty days, unless I'm able to come back sooner.

So, that means I'll be out of touch for a bit. Keep sending me your comments and questions, or suggestions. When a few more are emailed to me, I'll compile them into an entry on here and inform you.

Until next time...

Big Explosion

May 28, 2010
Delaram 2, Afghanistan
04:55

Yesterday morning I was sitting down in the A/DACG tent. I put some music on, and it started making me a little sleepy like music does. I leaned back in the chair and yawned, closed my eyes. I fell asleep quickly. A moment later...BOOM!

"WHAT THE FUCK!" the guy next to me yelled, and I jerked up in my seat, definitely awake now. What I'd heard was easily the closest explosion to my location since I'd arrived in Afghanistan.

The four of us in the tent opened the front "door" and looked out across the flat area near the LZ. There was smoke blowing away. The mortar round...or rocket, or whatever it was landed only about 300-400 yards away from us. Shortly after, we ran to the shelter and waited for the all clear signal to be given. It was a pretty sobering morning.

I'm willing to bet they're shooting at the LZ, watching where the shell lands, and adjusting their fire to hit closer to the LZ when helicopters are actually on the ground.

That's my update for now.

Also, for anyone reading, is there anything I haven't talked about yet that you're interested in understanding more? Do you have any questions about something I haven't mentioned, or something you want me to elaborate on? Please ask me.

Send me an email (jmilas89@gmail.com) with any questions you have. Ask as many as you want. I'll answer them to the best of my abilities in the next entry I make here. If you don't want me to identify you in the answer to my question, please let me know and I'll mark it as "Anonymous" or something.

Don't be afraid to ask me anything. Don't be afraid to ask a stupid question; I don't judge people for what they don't know.

And if there's anything that you'd like me to discuss in future entries, let me know. Suggestions and feedback are a great tool for writers, and it helps me to adjust my writing to better satisfy the readers. Again, just send me an email to the same address if you've got any comments.

Until next time...