Celebrating Independence Day

Independence Day dawned on Bagram bright and hot. The wind was blowing as usual. Dust was getting kicked up and into the faces of everyone who ventured outdoors. I announced the day before for my Garrison personnel to plan to enjoy all of the festivities that were scheduled. I specifically worked out over lunch just so I could enjoy the celebration without interruption. That afternoon the good folks from the USO and AAFES put on a full slate of fun at the Clamshell tent. It included a cookout, games, giveaways, music, and other craziness. I was very pleased to find it well-attended. In spite of the heat, and the fact that the Clamshell is not air-conditioned, personnel from all over Bagram were enjoying celebrating the birthday of our great nation. I was going to eat a hotdog or two just for tradition’s sake but, unfortunately, the hungry masses had cleaned out the chow by the time I arrived.

When the daytime event ended it was followed by some more formal activities at the giant C130 hanger. At 1800, the U.S. Forces-Afghanistan Commanding General hosted a giant reenlistment for 100 personnel from Bagram. Immediately afterward, AAFES held a drawing for a new car. The winner could choose either a Ford F150 pickup or a Mustang. The winner, an Army Captain, chose the Mustang. He explained that he already had an F150. Once the AAFES stuff was cleared from the stage the next part of the festivities began. The music group Vertical Horizon had come to Bagram just for the evening and enthusiastically took the stage. I personally had never heard of them. I stayed for a couple of songs but realized pretty quickly it wasn’t my vibe for music. So I made a stealthy exit and headed over to the Russian control tower to join my Air Force counterparts for cigars. It was a good call on my part and I quickly settled in to a relaxing conversation with my friends. The old Russian tower has a commanding view of the west side of the base and the flight line. It is a cool place to hang out. But around 45 minutes into my cigar a loud boom sounded very close by to the west of the tower. We jumped up and looked, all the while wondering if it was a controlled detonation and, if so, why no announcement had been made. Then in the distance we saw the flash, followed by the loud report, of a rocket being launched at the base. The IDF alarm sounded. We quickly scurried down the steep ladder down into the protected part of the building. For some reason the C-RAM didn’t engage. The stupid Taliban had brought the “rockets’ red glare” to our Bagram Independence Day celebration. My cigar night was abruptly ended, as was the Vertical Horizon concert.

I headed down to the Joint Emergency Operations Center to read the storyboard on the attack. Nobody was hurt. It was just some superficial damage. After getting a 100% accountability from my Garrison team, I called it a night. My half-smoked cigar was still in my hand. I threw it away.  It was a memorable day spent honoring the birth of the United States. This will be the last time I celebrate this event in a hostile country.