Ready for war

NTC is finally over, and I'm just waiting for my flight out in the morning, back to Alaska and the snow...
Ive learned so much here, but I am beyond ready to be done with this. It has been frustrating and exhausting and fulfilling and amazing all at the same time, but I need a break, a bubble bath, and a glass of wine (or a few!)
I couldn't possibly capture my whole experience here, but I'll touch on a few things.
Spc Steve and I went on a mission with the 509th infantry guys from Dog company, which wound up really just being a six-hour hike through the desert, uphill, searching for insurgents and clearing the road of IEDs... It was hot and long, but not excruciating. Certainly gave me some time to get comfortable with them, how they maneuver, and to figure out how I fit in. The EOD guys (they blow up the IEDs when found) were really cool, we watched them send their little robot out strapped with c-4... and I helped one of them don his bomb suit before he trudged off like an astronaut toward an IED. We stopped at the end of the day awaiting further instructions, and camped out for another 6 hours. Spc Steve and I hiked a mile off the route to find a port-a-john because I had to pee... there are no trees, no bushes, nothing... and I am unfortunately "high-maintenance" and would rather walk a two-mile round trip than hagi-squat in front of infantry guys, even though they have no problem peeing in front of me. We walked all the way back, and after seeing a few tarantulas through the day I was already jumpy. So we're within fifty feet of the whole crew, and a damn kangaroo-rat/bunny thing runs out in front of us, sending me leaping and squealing backward... as the whole company bursts into laughter, a gunner yells "its just a bunny..." from his turret. Great. Fantastic. Spc. Steve is still laughing. I took a nap in the sand as the sun went down and the stars poked out, which was the best sleep Ive had in years. I really love the desert. Nothing exciting really happened on the mission, leaving me without a story... two of our black-hawks got "shot down" but as we were with the ground support, we missed it.
Otherwise the rest of the training has consisted of following around Col. or the Gen. that showed up, or attending town meetings with the Afghans. All very interesting, but not that exciting. I did spend a day getting photos of the air-lifts, which consists of me sprawled on the ground under a black-hawk or Chinook getting blown away and hammered with sand. My poor camera is dinged and knicked. I'm sure my face lost about 4 layers of skin, but hey, people pay good money for microdermabrasion or exfoliation and mine was free, compliments of the Army and the Mohave desert... and I got some amazing shots.
We came back to RUBA a few days ago, and Ive been on "hands across the desert" detail for two days... its sounds neat, but we've been picking up brass and trash for miles and miles and miles. I dream about it now... We try to make it fun, but around hour 10 all motivation is lost and the idea of bending over one more freaking time to pick up one more round is more than anyone can bear. The detail did nudge me to the decision to cross over to the dark side (officers) on my return from Afghanistan... :) And my legs and ass are hard as rock, let me tell you, screw the gym, just go play chain-gang in the desert for a few days, you'll be good to go!
Jayvn lost his first tooth, and Mysteri turned 3 while I was here. Its occuring to me just how much of their lives I am going to miss over the next year. I'm really having a hard time with it. I always convince myself I can do things, then when they actually come up, I start to wonder why I thought I could handle it. I have about a month left with them, and then I wont see them for 14 months. I'm going to war. That was the main point that NTC hammered into my head. We aren't just playing Army anymore, we're living it. I'm leaving my children to go to a place where people are trying to kill me. I don't know, but that's a hard reality to swallow. I have an intense need to return home, but at the same time, I have to be willing to accept the chance that I may not. Our brigade lost 53 people on the last tour. They tell us to try to understand that everyone that goes, will not come back. Its interesting, before I got to the unit, I thought I understood, thought I could deal with it. But now these people have faces. They have stories, families, history. They are my friends and mentors. I sit with them sometimes, and wonder who it will be. Some of them seem so strong, seasoned, wise... that in my mind, they are invincible. I cant comprehend losing them. Its enough to make a person crazy. I interviewed our brigade sgt. maj. about this training, and whether he thought we were "ready." Confidently, he said our brigade is ready for anything we face in Afghanistan. We are combat-ready. But am I? I don't know. I feel my training has been sufficient, the technical and tactical aspects have been ingrained... but how do you know if you're mentally ready? There is no way to know how you will react, until you do. I wonder about it all the time, but what's frightening, is that shortly, I wont have to wonder. I'll know.
In the meantime, I'm headed home to enjoy the holidays and my family. To pretend to be a normal American, cook a turkey and go Christmas shopping.

Training

I should be writing a story right now, but the interview for the story was over an hour and a half, so Im procrastinating. Those kinds of stories take me forever to write. Im also waiting for a sgt. maj. from one of the infantry battalions to come pick me up, to take me out to a COP, which is smaller and less friendly than a FOB, and likely on some mountain top somewhere. So I finally have some time to sit, and Sgt. is letting me get on the internet. Yay.
We arrived at FOB King by Chinook, a double rotor huge-ass helicopter. It was bumpy and loud, but the back was open so the view was great.
The FOB is close to what I expected, a group of tents and port-a-johns in the middle of the desert, with humvees and howitzers dotting the landscape. I feel like Ive spent an aweful lot of time tagging along with Col. taking pictures of him shaking hands with various Afghan leaders. I did get to go to the command group dinner with the Afghan commanders, where they served some authentic Afghan food... it was amazing, and I am really looking forward to the cuisine during our deployment.
I went on a (boring) mission with the PSYOP group. Psychological Operations sounds all neat and cool, hooah.. whatever. But honestly, they wander through the village talking to the Afghan elders through a translator and its all very slow and dull.
The highlight of my desert adventure so far was the "trauma lane." I went on a convoy with the 501st infantry to their FOB, spent the night in another male tent... clutching my knife... and then woke up at 0500 to convoy almost all the way back to my FOB... to "Medina-Wasl" an Afghan mock-town out here. The residents are all hired role-players, but the Army has done a phenomenal job at creating a realistic town with realistic scenarios. So they hired amputees (one missing both legs, one missing one) and some other people to play wounded Soldiers and Afghan citizens. They stage an IED (improvised explosive device) and it "blows up" these Soldiers. We then go through with a platoon of scouts and medics, while they try to evacuate the wounded people. The tricky part is, while all of this is happening, the hired "insurgents" continue blowing things up and shooting at us. The Army hired make-up artists to put blood and gore on all the wounded, these people had burned faces and shrapnel sticking out of their bodies, the amputees had bloody stubs for legs, and they threw limbs all over the ground. One Soldier was coughing up blood... one was delusional, screaming and crying and running down the street. Im trying to get all of this on film, while juggling my M-4 and trying not to get shot or blown up. So Im running around with the infantry, dodging behind humvees and walls to stay covered. Balancing photography with Soldiering is not nearly as simple as I had imagined. The scouts were trying to secure the perimeter while the medics were applying tourniquets and field dressings to the casualties. And Im trying to keep a cool enough head to not let the chaos phase me, and accomplish my mission, which believe it or not, is to leave the shooting to the infantry, and take pictures. I did ok on my first run through, although I did see one of the Soldiers leave a weapon on the ground, and failed to pick it up (BIG no-no.) I was also crouched down behind a Soldier who was pulling security and informed him that I was going to bound up to a wall, and this dude said "No you're not." I know better than to argue, so I kept my happy ass crouched... for 25 minutes. Argh! Apparently he saw an insurgent in a second floor window, but he never actually shot, so Sgt. Maj. finally came to get me.. "You're not going to get any pictures if you're just going to sit over here and hide." Sigh. Other than those two incidents, I managed to get some good pictures and make it through the lane without getting shot, or throwing up, or passing out. Yay-for-me.
The second time through I took photos from the observation deck. Watching the scene unfold below me, being able to see the whole thing play out... was twice as disturbing. Running through the first time, my adrenaline was going and I was focused on my actions and my immediate surroundings, so while it was intense, it wasnt overwhelmingly so. But watching from above, I wanted to cry. I had time to realize that the reason we have lanes like this, is to prepare us for the real thing, not IF it happens, but when. Seeing people in the uniform that I wear, blown to pieces and puking up blood, screaming for help... watching Soldiers, some as young as 18, trying desperately to do the right thing, to save their buddies to their right and left... I watched in horror as the insurgents popped out windows and fired blindly down at the street, as the Soldiers hit the ground or ran for cover, or tried to drag or carry their dying comrade just a little faster. After the lane was complete the second time, we moved to a clear area, a field of dirt really, to wait for the UH-60 Black Hawks (helicopter) to fly in for an air-evacuation. They pulled all the wounded out on their liters (like a stretcher) and laid them in a row on the ground, and the medics went to work. They gave them IVs, wrapped their head and chest wounds, and... something I didnt expect... talked them through. Amidst all the chaos, each medic could be heard saying something like "ok, man, we're going to get you this morphine, and you'll feel much better. I need you to tell me where you are from. ok, thats neat. can you count backward from 100 for me, and by the time you get to 1, I'll be back." These medics bustled around like little worker-bees, blood and dirt crusted to them, saving lives. Some of them are just kids, barely out of high school. Most people their age are in college, drinking, partying.. and these guys are out here in the desert, getting shot and being real-life heroes. Three Soldiers "died" and I took pictures of the blanket blowing in the wind as they laid it over their bodies and faces. Those pictures have been haunting me.
What makes me so angry, is that I witnessed every second of the battle... One time, as a part of it, and one time, as an observer... and while it is a replica of something to come, it is real. These men are real, with families and lives, and they put it all on the line. And you know what the media reports? "3 Soldiers were killed in Medina-Wasl..." Thats it. Not ONE mention of the 10 that were saved by Soldiers who werent fearless, but courageous enough to set the fear aside and do what had to be done. Not ONE mention of the insurgents that did everything in their power to wreak havoc and blow all of us up. "3 Soldiers died." Thats it. Unless a Soldier throws himself on a grenade, he's not a hero. What the fuck??? These guys are heroes EVERY DAY. Just running through the lane, for some of them who have been through these situations in their previous deployments, was traumatic. It triggers emotions and flash-backs of days so horrific, most people cant even stand to think about. And they are here, doing it on purpose, so that when the time comes, AGAIN, they will accomplish their mission.
Watching them, running through the lane with them, gives me faith and confidence, in the Army and in these men. At the same time, it terrifies me.
Ive learned so much here, from the training lanes to sitting through TOC briefs. My commander has been to Afghanistan multiple times. Listening to him talk about the progress the country has made, and his assurance that it is not a hopeless country encourages me. In PAO, I get the privilege of photographing meetings and briefs that privates have no business being in, and I listen carefully. I have come to understand, finally, what this is all about. I believe in this mission, and the methods we are using to try to win this war.
So aside of the dirt, the little daily frustrations, and how much of an issue it is to be a female in an infantry unit (THAT is a whole different blog for another time, or maybe a book even...) this has been an unbelievable opportunity.
I have so much more to say, but Im out of time. I'll update as soon as I can.

NTC starts

Sometimes I forget what the Army really is. Basic training, afterall, was just training. But I forget that it is much more indicative of the real Army than my job in the real Army actually is. So this week I'm getting to adjust back into "Soldier" role, and not just being a pampered public affairs Soldier. Not that I still dont have perks and pamperings that the rest of the Soldiers don't necessarily get, but I am sleeping on a cot with mice playing in my boots underneath.
Fort Irwin California is in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. Its in the Mohave desert, which provides good training in that it replicates Iraq/Afghanistan, but I am so damn dirty. I always hear stories of the sand and dust in Iraq/Afghanistan and these training places... but again, its one of those things you just cant understand until you experience it. The first day here, the dust provided a thick brown fog that hovers above the ground probably up to 50 feet, and suffocates everyone. It clings to your skin even under your uniform, cakes to your face and clots at the corners of you eyes and nose and mouth. Besides the dirt and sand, the desert is beautiful in a really ugly way. Its dirty with dirt, but really clean from human-ness. Its massive, and the sky... I have never seen the sky look so amazing. It makes you feel small the way the ocean does. Mountains of rock jut up around us, some of them black with the volcanic rock from 100s of years ago. I climbed to the top of one today with Maj. and could see over the whole valley. It was breath-taking. A little metal cross stood at the top, cemented into one of the black rocks, and I climbed up there to get some pictures. The wind almost knocked me down, but standing there clinging to the base of a cross, looking over the most desolate, lifeless, vast and strangely beautiful scenery... was one of those moments I probably will remember forever.
As far as NTC... Night 1, I found that I was to be sleeping in a co-ed tent with about 400 men, cots lined end to end. I reminded myself that this is indeed the Army, where personal space and privacy do not exist. They did eventually move us to a "female" tent, which is funny to me that out of around 3000 people they only need one tent for the girls, and it is quite roomy. The ratio has to be about 75 to 1.
I am enjoying a welcome break at the Fort Irwin Starbucks right now (perks of PAO), and enjoyed a real shower at the gym here this morning. We leave Tuesday, out to "the Box" which is an area in the desert that is designed to mimic the area of Afghanistan that we will be in. They have people acting as the enemy that will attack us, live-fire (aka real rounds... bullets) exercises, pretty much everything they can do to make us feel like we are actually over there. We have 17 days in the box. That's 17 days without a real shower, without a real toilet, without a real meal... 17 days in the desert with crazy hooah-hooah infantry guys, an M-4, and a camera. Apparently, because all of the FOBs (forward operating base) are so spaced out, and I have to get to all of them to cover the different battalions, me and Spc Steve will be traveling between them (supposedly by Chinook.) Very exciting. It should be interesting to say the least.
I got promoted yesterday. Yay, a rocker. Lol. Still a private though... which I dont mind at all! The ceremony was nice, me and Sgt. both got promoted at the same time, which I thought was special. It was pretty, under the big desert sky, and the Colonel and CSM even came out to shake our hands. Fun stuff. For celebration Maj. took us into Barstow for dinner, some amazing Italian food. We even got to wear our civies... ;) More perks of PAO... we at least get to remember that the real world exists in the midst of this training. But all that will end Tuesday.
Once we get going with the real training I doubt I will have time or energy to blog, much less the technology, but I'm going to try. I went back through and read some of my Airborne stuff, after one of the Soldiers stationed here at Irwin told me I have more balls than he does... lol, and decided that this blog is just as much for my horrible short-term memory's benefit as anything else. How quickly we forget things, or compress our memories into vague generalizations. I feel the need to document all of this, simply because certain experiences feel like a dream after they fade, and sometimes I don't even believe they really happened.
Ah well, my Starbucks escape is now at an end, back to the dirt and the tents.