From Michael:
26April08
We left our base several days ago. The flight was approximately 1 hour to our location. The landscape was as barren as a lunar landscape. As I peered out of the back of the helicopter, all I could see was a sea of dirty sand, periodically interrupted with dots of green, like freckles. I was very close to becoming air sick. You see, the military didn’t exactly have comfort in mind when designing the inside of the helicopter. There are few windows, and they are too high to see out of anyway. It is hot and humid, as the cargo bay is basically another mechanism by which the engine cools. And the smell, the constant smell of JP8 fuel, mixed with hydraulic fluid that leaks everywhere! They say that the aircraft we took is a workhorse and a sturdy aircraft. I don’t doubt it. They also say that as long as the thing is leaking oil, all is well. It’s when it stops leaking oil that you have cause for concern. I guess I never progressed far enough as an engineering major to fully grasp that concept.
Our destination can only be described as an oasis in the desert. There is literally nothing here. It is a massive fortress constructed of hesko walls and little else. Hesko is basically a big reinforced bin that can be filled with sand. It erects quickly and easily, and is relatively effective against small-arms and mortar fires. The only problem with hesko is that it radiates heat…quite well for that matter. The daytime temperatures out here soar into the 100s with ease. I saw a thermostat that measured 99.7…in the shade. Our hesko bunkers soak up this heat like a chamois, reach saturation point in the late afternoon, and then mercilessly release the unwelcome heat at night. We are crowded into our bunkers like sardines. Real estate is limited. Our bunker is about the size of the average American living room, and there are no fewer than 10 of us living in here. The dust is terrible, and we are constantly blowing our noses. Add to that the smell of feet that have been in the same boots for days in this heat, and the smell is almost unbearable. It reminds me of the football locker room after summer two-a-day practices in Texas . I would almost rather be back in the helicopter…almost. It is cooler outside than inside at night, and I would like to sleep outside, except that I don’t have a mosquito net. Bugs here are getting bad this time of year. It’s spring, and they are emerging from winter’s slumber. Inside our bunkers at night, we can hear the scurrying of mice foraging for food at night. The result is that no food is permitted to be eaten or opened in our bunkers. Instead, we have to eat in a poorly ventilated, non-air conditioned tent that can only be appreciated when one has seen the tv show M*A*S*H*. There are no cooked meals to speak of here. We subsist on MREs – Meal Ready to Eat. I can’t stand them, but they provide much needed calories and nutrients. And for those who wonder, there is no plumbing. We relieve ourselves in holes in the ground….literally.
At night, it is pitch black. There is no ambient light at all. The stars are so bright and so big that it feels like the sky is going to fall on your head. You can actually see the different colors of the stars because there is no cloud cover, no haze, no pollution. Gee, if it wasn’t for the roadside bombs, bullets, and the Taliban, this place might actually pass for peaceful.
Actually, I kind of like it here. There is a simplicity to this place that reminds you of what is truly important. I have plenty of time on my hands right now (but our mission begins shortly, so that could all change). I pass the time by reading and trying to help out. Right now, we are constructing a facility that will serve as a temporary holding cell for any detainees that we might capture. It’s manual labor, the kind of stuff you watch on HGTV. But it needs to be done, so I do what I can. I actually built the little table upon which the computer I am typing onto sits. How Bob Villa of me. I also drafted the Operating Procedures for the holding cell, to make sure that we are in compliance with Geneva Conventions and all that stuff. I think the detainees will actually have better living conditions than we do. But, we volunteered for this, or so goes the logic of this place.
This place is actually a British place. They built it, and they are its permanent occupants. We are merely guests of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces. The Brits, by all accounts, know how to “rough it.” I observe them sunbathing at the end of a long day, playing cricket or table tennis during downtime, taking real showers. None of that for us Marines. We have to make ourselves as miserable as possible in order to enjoy ourselves. Showers? That’s why they invented baby wipes. Recreation? That would be almost like having “fun”. If the Marine Corps wanted Marines to have fun, they would have issued it to us.
In all honesty, I am doing well here. I am one of those people who has a high pain threshold, but hates to be uncomfortable. But I have found that once you accept in your mind that you are going to be hot, filthy, and generally disgusting for the next however many weeks, you give in to it and you can actually embrace it and…dare I say…enjoy it.
6 years ago
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