Helicopters

In the last 12 days I have been in 5 helicopters, four of which actually took me someplace, and the other that did not leave the ground. In preparation for each of these trips I have packed and unpacked my bags for travel. I carry with me one seabag, which contains all of my clothes, sleeping bag, and other items, and one medium backpack, which contains a laptop (not my personal one) and other electronic gizmos. As I discovered packing and unpacking both of these bags was really just preparing me for my packing sprint, which I will explain shortly.

Since my last posting I have been to Jalalabad (J-Bad) and Torkham Gate. The trip to J-Bad was a night flight and it dropped me into an interesting and at the time scary situation. The helo landed, and the aircrew told us to deplane and wait on the side of the helo. Waiting there while other cargo was being unloaded, and knowing that this was my stop, I asked the forklift driver where it was that I was to go to. The guy told me to cross the field and go to the left of a couple of lights. So I grabbed my backpack and slung it on my back over my body armor, then grabbed my M-16 and attached it to the front of my body armor in a D-ring just for that purpose, then, slinging my seabag over my shoulder, I set off across the airfield to the left of the two lights that we saw.

It was at this point that I realized that I had to cross the actual runway that the C-130s coming there land on. Setting my sights on the other side of the runway I look up to see if there are any landing lights headed my way. With no lights to be seen, I run across the runway and make it to the other side, my heart pounding slightly both from the excitement of the run and also from the weight of my gear.

It was at this point that I made my mistake. . . having two options 1) to continue across the airfield to a nearby road or 2) to continue along the runway to another set of lights. I naturally chose option one, thinking of removing myself from the position of being next toa landing C-130. As I make it to the road I see a gated entrance to a compound, with two guards on watch in the hut. As I get closer and approach the gate I notice something about the guards that catches me at a bit of a surprise. . . the guards are most defiantly not American, in fact one of them has a beard and neither of them are speaking English. They look at me almost as confused as I look at them, then one of them says,"I.D?" To which I give them my ID, and then they say, "ARMY" and point down the road which runs along the runway. I thank them and ask them how far it is, to which they reply, "ARMY" and point down the road which runs along the runway. Knowing that I am not going to get a better answer than that I turn and walk along the road.

As I walk along the road I notice a few things, my nerves being slightly shaken at this point. For example there was a man walking in the darkness along the road in the bushes, then I passed what appeared to be an abandoned air terminal (Of course you never really know it is abandoned in Afghanistan), finally, that which shook me wholly to my bones, I saw the equivalent of a convenience store, most definitely not American. Continuing along the road, I came to a curve and around this curve was the first sign of American life... a HUMVEE. I walked a little further and found the entrance to the military base that I was looking for. Now, my nerves relaxed, I asked the guard on duty where I could find a place to sleep being that it was almost 3am. The next day I walked back along my route and discovered that I was in no danger at all, but for the darkness shaking my nerves.

Leaving J-Bad a couple of days later, I flew to a place called Torkham Gate, a small military encampment a few miles from the Pakistan Border at the entrance to the Khyber Pass. This being a day flight, I was able to see the lush valley surrounding J-Bad and the slowly flowing river that ran through it. It was interesting to watch the small town give way to desert. Small bits of civilization could be seen sporadically as newer mud homes were built near older mud homes that had been destroyed by years of erosion.

While at Torkham Gate I met up with some SF guys that were there to check out the area and operations. Together we hiked up one of the closer mountainsides to one of the bases outposts. Taking 26 minutes to get to the top, I was covered in sweat and nearly out of breath, it felt like we ran up the mountainside. Having arrived at the top, we descended the mountain on the far side, along a path that was much steeper than it first appeared. Making our own switchbacks along this steep decline, I felt more like a mountain goat than a hiker. It was the most fun I've had since I started this operation.

The SF guys had a bird lined up to take us out of Torkham within a few days, so we waited for it to come. While waiting it turned out that someone decided to cancel the bird. They were not happy, and called their O-6 to get the bird back, who in turn called some random general. The morning of the flight we were told that it was not coming. As we went to lunch, the SF Major went to check his email. As he read his email he said that we have the bird, and it should have been there an hour ago. Just as he told me to go and tell the other guys to pack their stuff, a person came in the office and said that some helos were inbound. It was at this point that all of my packing preparation came into play, as I sprinted getting all of my stuff together to get it to the helicopter in time.

The helicopter was a Blackhawk, this rounded out my collection of airframes that I could ride in Afghanistan, my collection complete I think that I am now eligible for a free knife set. As one of the last guys to get on, I ended up with what I consider the best seat in the house, though some may disagree and until I ride again I will not know. I was in the front of the passenger compartment facing forward in the middle of the bird. The roof set 8 inches above my head, and one person on either side of me. I was set up with a view through all available windows, each of the gunners and the three that the pilot and copilot had. As the bird took off I could see that all of the traffic on the road that runs along torkham gate was closed off, and people were out of their cars watching the two helicopters leave the area.

Arriving back at Bagram, I called my friend Matt and we retreated to our favorite haunt on Bagram. The place with the only vice allowed... the coffee shop. Here I sit now waiting for another bird to go to another place.