An Early Christmas Present

Something happened that came straight out of left field. I didn’t see it coming, nor did my subordinates. It was met with very mixed feelings that ranged from surprise to disappointment. But in the end I came to regard it with a feeling of relief. I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. My replacement, or “backfill” as we call them here, was scheduled to arrive at the end of August. That changed. About a week ago I was in a routine meeting with my Commanding General covering a variety of Garrison-related topics. Towards the end of our discussion we got on the topic of future manning for the Garrison. I was in the process of assuring the CG that although we were going through a period of high turnover (a bunch of my staff have reached completion of their tours), there was a backfill for everyone scheduled to depart over the next few months. Then I even brought up the backfills for CSM and me. That’s when he said, “Well, actually your backfill is coming earlier than planned.” I sat back for a moment in almost shock and said straight up that I found that to be disappointing news. He acknowledged and understood why I would say that but assured me that it was in no way a performance-related issue. Instead, it was simply due to the fact that the new sourcing command for my position got their signals crossed on when my backfill was supposed to be here. Once the orders were cut, my CG elected to let it ride since it was so close to the end of my tour. As it stands, I’ll be at eleven months out of twelve when I hand the guidon to my replacement.  So my early Christmas present is that I’ll be leaving Afghanistan sooner than expected. Towards the end of next month we will hold a change-of-command ceremony and I will exit Bagram stage right. It’s a bittersweet thought, as I love command so much and we have such momentum right now on so many different priorities. But I also understand that these kinds of things happen in the military all the time and that it is just business, never personal. The more I’ve thought about this since I got the news the more at peace I’ve become. I’ve been doing my ‘round-the-world combat tour stuff for years now and, quite frankly, I’m growing as weary as our military is of war. I’ve seen the United States all of seven months over the past three years, with six and a half of those months coming all at one time. I’m cool with going home – finally – and getting on with normalizing my life, living without the gnawing in my gut that the IDF alarm is about to sound or the fear of having to witness another event like what happened last Thanksgiving. I miss my family back in the beautiful mountains of Avery County North Carolina.

Later that day I gathered my primary staff around and told them the news. They were shocked. Every face was very long. I could feel their disappointment and took it for what it genuinely was – a sincere show of their loyalty and love for me as their commander. It is a mutual feeling we all share. I’ll miss my team when I leave. I will have a cold beer for all of them soon and we’ll make that talk of a reunion a reality.

100 Days of Wind

Somebody told me several months ago that I’d know when spring gave way to summer because the rain would stop and the wind would begin. I don’t remember who it was that told me this. He was well informed. It’s aptly referred to as the “100 Days of Wind”. Back in early May when I returned from R&R there were still frequent thunder storms and late night rain. We even had a massive hail storm. But as May transitioned to June the rains tapered off. That’s when the wind started. It has been windy every single day. Sometimes the wind blows in gusts so hard they literally stop me in my tracks. They gusts have even been known to knock me backwards (I’m not a really big guy). What I find amazing is that the wind just keeps on blowing. I think we’ve had a wind for about 40 straight days now. It the count is correct, I can expect the wind to stop blowing about two weeks before I redeploy. It’s not dust storms like what many of us experienced in Iraq. Those terrible things would block out the sun and choke the life out of anyone dumb enough to remain outside. No, the wind here just serves as a nuisance. It blows up grit and garbage and makes outdoor physical training a challenge. But, fortunately, there are no roving clouds of impenetrable dust descending upon Bagram. It’s just windy.

Another big difference from my days in Iraq is the temperature. By this time of summer in Iraq the temperatures would be soaring above 130 degrees. We’ve only been topping out in the 90’s here. It’s actually downright nice at night, with temperatures in the low 60’s. I don’t know if it is going to remain this pleasant but we certainly hope it does. Anyway, I hope it does. Anything that can take the edge off of being at Bagram is always welcome.

Friday the 13th, Full Moon, IDF, and an Earthquake

With the Afghan presidential run-off elections imminent the base has been on heightened alert. All the intel updates have been pointing to something big so we have been on guard. In actuality, the election came and went without much noise here in Bagram. That doesn’t mean everything was quiet. There was some IDF. The rockets didn’t hit anything of significance and no damage was suffered except to a couple of T-walls. A couple of rockets landed in Coyote Creek, which was probably more harmful to the rockets than to the creek. But the day before the election did bring the combination of Friday the 13^th and a full moon to Bagram. It was a clear night and the moon rose early to illuminate everything with its glow. I joined my counterparts from the Air Force as per usual in the Russian Tower for cigars. I’m not superstitious at all so to me it was just another night. We did discuss briefly the coincidence of the full moon and the date. While we were in the tower two rockets came in and impacted harmlessly on the tarmac about 400 meters away. Unfortunately that spelled the end of our cigar night, which had us cursing at the stupid Taliban once again. But in spite of Friday the 13^th and the full moon, that was it for the excitement. There was nothing to even remotely reinforce to me any reason to be superstitious.

Around 0400 the next morning the IDF alarm sounded again. It stirred me from a deep sleep. I hate the Taliban. Fortunately, these were the rockets that fell harmlessly into Coyote Creek. The all-clear sounded very quickly and I was soon back to sleep. A couple of hours later I was up drinking my coffee and getting ready for work when something happened that I’d not experienced here to date. Keep in mind that my billets are made of shipping containers stacked together to form what we call a “relocateable building” (RLB). I was in the bathroom when the building began to shake and sway slightly. At first I thought it was a heavy vehicle driving by outside but there were no accompanying engine noises. The shaking continued and I realized it was a minor earthquake. The area around Bagram does have a high incidence of seismic activity so the trembler wasn’t surprising. It was the first time in my nine months here that Bagram had experienced one. It’s the third time in my life I’ve experienced a minor earthquake. Every time it’s been in a foreign land. The first one was on the Greek Island of Symi. A year ago I experienced one in Queenstown, New Zealand. Now I can chalk up Bagram, Afghanistan to the list.

As for the Afghan election? It seemed to go off without any glitches. Initial reports are that over 60% voter turnout hit the poles. Now we wait for the results.

Crossing the 90 day threshold

Day 275 – I’m now crossing into the final quarter of this deployment. Based upon the 365-day “boots on ground” math, I have exactly 90 days remaining. That’s a milestone among the mental victories that guide a person through these experiences. I’m three flips of my calendar away from the month I redeploy. It just so happens that month will be September, which means for the first time since 2010 I’ll be able to watch football games without having to stay up until after midnight just to see the kickoff. But, unfortunately, I’ll miss another summer. I don’t mean that literally, as it is summer here. But there’s a huge difference between spending summer in Bagram as opposed to summer just about anywhere else. But I think I can hang another 90 days. Taking into account the promise I made to my Mom, the next 90 days will be the last ones I ever spend deployed in harm’s way. Does the time go by fast? Well, amazingly enough, it has already been over a month since I returned from R&R. That means my “days without a beer” counter is back up to 33. The last beer I had was a Carlsburg served on the Fly Emirates Airbus 380 on my return trip to Kuwait. That also represented the last glass of wine I consumed, which was a lovely red I had with my in-flight meal. 90 days to go – I’m in double digits.

But I can’t spend too much time focusing on the number of days remaining. There is so much work to do here. It’s getting hot now too. I was out walking around observing some of our current projects earlier today and found it amazing to see snow still adorning the distant mountain peaks. They are a beautiful sight. But they are a façade that masks the volatility of this place. The war continues. Our next major hurdle is to ensure the Afghan run-off elections are successful. This makes for seriously heightened tension around everything we do. Security and force protection are, as always, major concerns. But they take on even greater priority now. Those Taliban thugs are murdering terrorists who want nothing more than to cause mayhem and death. Their top priority at present is to do anything within their power to disrupt the elections and kill people who are helping the democratic process in Afghanistan. But when I put it in perspective I realize that nothing has changed. That’s always been a priority of the Taliban. We’ll make it through. We always do. And I’ll most certainly get through these last 90 days.

Hailstorms and MILCON

The weather here has been very unpredictable of late. A day might dawn bright and clear but by midday has turned dark and ominous, only to end bright a clear once again. One moment the air is completely still. Then out of nowhere comes gale force winds that whip up huge volumes of dust, trash, and debris. Giant thunderstorms will appear at the edges of the mountains with spectacular streaks of lightning that arch across an endless sky. I’ll think nothing of those storms and only seconds later they’ll be overhead reaping havoc. It is an amazing level of volatility that I wasn’t expecting. I’m used to Iraq, where early summer simply brought scorching hot temperatures. The truth is I’m not complaining. The storms have kept the air cool and the nights have been downright pleasant. But one storm recently was particularly alarming in its intensity. It was around noon one day earlier this week. The normal ominous clouds had been forming but I don’t think anyone thought much of them. I had just returned to my room from Dragon DFAC, my to-go lunch container in my hand as I shut the door. Just then I heard the patter of rain on the aluminum roof of my billeting. I was relieved at making it back to my room just in time. But the lazy drops of rain suddenly turned into a deafening roar that was almost unfathomable. I opened my door and was shocked to see hail the size of golf balls coming down at a rate faster than I had ever seen. What was even more amazing was that the hail continued unabated for almost fifteen minutes. The bunkers and ground below were quickly covered by piles of hailstones. People were scrambling to get under cover while getting painfully pelted. When it was finally over the ground was white with ice. The summer heat melted the evidence within fifteen minutes. Once I finished my lunch I walked back to my office and saw evidence everywhere of the ferocity of nature. Vehicle hoods were perforated with dozens of dent marks. A few windows or windshields were shattered. Limbs and leaves from the trees were scattered about. I even saw damaged plywood on buildings. We haven’t experienced IDF in a while so I chalked this up to nature’s version. It was an impressive display.

Regardless of the weather, our work goes on. Lately our efforts to reduce Bagram to an enduring base have taken on a furious pitch. There has been a sudden uptick in our higher command’s interest in the completion of various Military Construction (MILCON) projects around the base. They include new headquarters buildings, DFACs, a gym, and an MWR. When a project is still considered MILCON it is under the control of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (USACE), who manage whatever construction company is contracted to complete the building. USACE provides a date in the future in which they estimate the building will be ready for beneficial occupation. Normally, that date will continually “push to the right” as problems are found that delay the construction. Unfortunately, my Garrison cannot do anything with the building until it is handed over to us by USACE. So we have to wait because it is all we can do. The challenge though is that our higher HQ continually assumes that my Garrison has control of completing MILCON projects. As a result, every time USACE shifts the beneficial occupation date of a MILCON to a later date on the calendar it results in Garrison getting blamed for “dragging our feet” or something similar. Then we have to explain all over again that it is a MILCON project and belongs to USACE alone and that they should be the ones answering why the project isn’t completed yet. It is a seemingly endless cycle. Fortunately, we have accepted a couple of big MILCON recently from USACE and have them ready for use. Victories do come eventually but they really do take a lot of patience around here. They also require a thick skin and a sense of humor. Otherwise we’d all go mad.

100 days and counting down

There are times here when it seems as though time stands still. Then other moments when there isn’t enough time in the day to tackle everything we are attempting to accomplish. Somewhere in the middle of this time contradiction is the methodical march of the calendar. It moves to the steady drumbeat of my routine of meetings, Bagram circulation, phone calls, random IDF, eating, working out, and catching a few precious moments of sleep. Today was my 265th of this tour in Afghanistan. There are 100 days and counting down to go. So long as I keep my promise to my Mom – and I will – the logic states that the next 100 days will be the last I ever spend deployed in harm’s way. Looking back on my adventures of the past eleven years, which have all had a story of their own, I can add the cumulative months and years of running to the sound of the guns. When my Afghanistan journey ends in September I will have spent 61 months on various tours. That’s five years with a month to spare. Put another way, that’s 1,856 days enjoying the lovely scenery of the Tigris and Euphrates in Iraq, living here in the shadow of the Hindu Kush, experiencing the deep jungles of Liberia, and sizzling in the blistering Kuwaiti sun. What a decade it’s been. Now I just need to make it through these final 100 days. I’ve certainly got enough on my plate to keep me occupied for that time. None of what I’ve said is meant to indicate I’m also leaving the Army – to the contrary. But my body and my mind are telling me day and night that the novelty of this deployment stuff wore off a long time ago. It’s time to admit that I’ve done my part and move on.

Bagram continues to be the preeminent, dominating, all-consuming entity it always has been. But strangely enough, the battlefield lately seems to be within the perimeter walls. Whereas just a couple of months ago my command was almost going it alone in our efforts to reduce this base, nowadays several entities have cast their lot and are clamoring for the credit of taming Bagram. The problem is that none of them want to accept that any work has been done up to now. And to make that assumption is both incorrect and insulting to efforts of so many people who have toiled for so long to bring Bagram to where it is now. The base is only a fraction of what it was back in September when I arrived. It most certainly didn’t happen overnight. But to the late-comers to this race to an enduring Bagram, the work has only just begun. Regardless, the light is at the end of the tunnel. The work is getting done. When all is said and done I’m not really hung up on who gets credit, just so long as we accomplish our mission.

In the midst of all the base reduction we were able to finally give something back to the tenants of Bagram. They’ve been relocated, endured reduced menus in the DFACs, closure of services they are so fond of, and living a much more “expeditionary” existence. Yesterday we were able to open the new main PX, which will serve the base through the end of 2015. I was invited by the AAFES manager to speak at the grand opening and then had the honor of cutting the ribbon signaling the PX was open for business. A huge crowd was eagerly waiting. I kept my words short and provided ample praise to the AAFES personnel. Then I let everyone know that this facility was for them. They poured in as the doors opened. Smiles were abundant. Many people came up to thank me for the occasion. I deferred praise to others and reminded them that the new facility was for them. I believe it was one of the best days I’ve spent on this deployment. For a few short hours I was in a place where everyone was happy and nobody was complaining or making demands. Then I returned to work.

27 Years Ago Today

May 27, 1987. It was a cool, overcast day at West Point. Intermittent rain was falling, which created a lot of consternation. That day, 27 years ago today, I joined my classmates for our final formation as Cadets. It was the day the United States Military Academy’s Class of ’87, “Our Country We Strengthen”, graduated after just over four years together at our “Rock bound Highland Home”. We transitioned that day from Cadet Grey to Army Blue as we raised our right hands and took the commissioning oath as Second Lieutenants in the United States Army. It is amazing to think that it was 27 years ago. Time certainly flies. As I reflect back, I recall that our biggest worry that day was that the rain would force our graduation ceremony indoors. That was something no class had needed to do in many years. The ceremony is traditionally held in Michie Stadium, which is the home of Army Football (we won the Commander-in-Chief’s Trophy that year). The outdoor football stadium had plenty of room for all of our family and friends who had come from such great distances to be present. If we had to move the ceremony inside Eisenhower Hall it would have limited the seating and forced many to miss the ceremony. So my classmates and I prayed to Odin, the legendary Cadet god of weather, to restrain the rain. The irony being that we had asked Odin so many times in our four years to bring bad weather to cancel parades and other formations. Fortunately, the rain held. We had the ceremony outdoors. General Wickham was the speaker, which was an inside joke for Class of ’87 because he had already spoken to us so many times before. One by one our names were called. We crossed the stage and received our diplomas. Finally, at the end of it all, came the words we had waited so long to hear, “Class of ’87, DISMISSED!” A thousand white uniform hats sailed into the air as we hugged each other, our family members, and friends. We were wearing our Full Dress Grey over White uniforms for the final time. Later that day the sun came out and the temperature warmed greatly. Our family members pinned the Lieutenant bars on our Army Green Class A uniforms. Our chapter at West Point was coming to a close and the next phase of our lives – one of service to country – had begun. No matter what happened from this point on, the West Point Class of ’87 had been forged through the shared experience of what we now always remember as among the best four years of our lives. We are forever brothers and sisters, best friends for life, and bonded in a way few have the opportunity to experience. Our Country We Strengthen! ’87!

I salute all of my classmates today. Many continue to serve our Army. Some have risen to the General Officer ranks. Most have moved on to the private sector. But what I love about my classmates is that they all continue to serve their country, communities, and their families. They are and always have been the best of the best. Like fine wine we have all aged well. We will always remember each other as the raw Cadets we once were.

Today’s anniversary comes at an appropriate time, as it is right on the heels of Memorial Day Weekend.  We had already taken time to honor and remember those who had paid the ultimate sacrifice serving our great Nation. Several members of my class are among those who’ve laid that price down on the altar of Freedom. Their memories will never fade with us. Here in Bagram we had a surprise visit from the President. Around 3,000 of us had gathered in one of the large C130 hangars to hear Country Music star Brad Paisley perform. Some of us, like me, knew what was happening. But a lot of people did not know and it was a huge surprise when the President came out on stage and gave his talk. Afterward, he shook hands with everyone who wanted to meet him. It was a really good event and very fitting tribute to so many of our Nation’s finest who are still making such a sacrifice here in Afghanistan.

I am humbled to serve alongside so many heroes. And I am still incredulous and ever thankful to be a member of West Point’s Class of ’87. 27 years and counting! We’ve got so many good years of service to give.

Side Note:  For those unfamiliar with traditions of West Point I just wanted to explain that Odin in no way is meant to circumvent our true faith. West Point Cadets and Alumni are some of the most spiritual testaments of faith and come from all religions. The “weather god” Odin is a West Point tradition started many years ago – long before Class of ’87. The tradition is that Odin is the Norse God who looks over the weather at West Point. Parades are frequently held at the Academy and while they look great from the stands they are not necessarily fun to be in. Therefore, on parade days Cadets are known to follow tradition and ask Odin to bring bad weather to cancel the parade. It didn’t always work but Cadets will do anything to grab a nap after last class instead of hitting The Plain for a parade.