Leon,
Recently, I've acquired the license required to drive vehicles around Bagram. This, of course, leads to me being the designated chauffeur. The problem being, I never bothered to learn on a manual transmission. Thankfully, I had a grasp of the basics I had picked up from observation, so learning was a little easier.
I still hate driving the damned things, though.
And now these poetic contemplations...
Observations on Freedom
Freedom given
People appalled
Freedom taken
Mad Men
An ancient people
In mud brick dwell
The Mad Men roam
This forgotten hell
w/ beards
w/ guns
w/ sandals
The Mad Men roam
The Mad Men kill
Oh!
The Mad Men kill
Blood Red Wolf
Blood Red Wolf
w/ blood red mane
Take me away
To the castles of Spain
Haunt my dreams
Pierce my eyes
w/ golden gaze
Pierce my ears
w/ melodious howl
Blood Wolf is free
To roam the land
And invade the dreams
Of miserable men
And we shall follow her
Wherever she may roam
To find our freedom
Or a way back home
To war torn lands
She may go
To peaceful kingdoms
To Heaven
To Hell
Follow her
She calls
Love her
Shaman Man
Oh Shaman Man
In black leather clad
Show us the way to break through
There's blood in the streets
The End is near
My eyes have seen you
There
Side by side w/ Unknown Soldier
A bullet in his head
– The war was never over
Oh Shaman Man
Let us ride on the Crystal Ship
To your Orange County Suite
We'll drink with Los Angeles
On Love St.
– I've been riding the storm too long
I want not to touch Earth
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Public Affairs is a Pain in the Ass!
Leon,
What's up? Between now and my last entry, I've been flooded with completely random taskings from every corner of Camp Vance.
It would seem that at the last minute there had been a change of plans and it is no longer just myself in the office. With our NCOs gone, we have been left in charge of anything having to do with Combat Camera and/or Multimedia Illustration, which has kept us rather occupied.
On top of this turn of events, I've been given the job of compiling news articles relating to the events in Afghanistan, complete with a table of contents, a highlight of the separate sources, and a television broadcast summary. I have to do this every day. This particular task reaches far outside of my area of operations and places a third occupation on my plate — only one of which was voluntary.
Outside of that, I received a request to make a sign for a Sergeant First Class who aims to start his own business. I've been having fun with this over the past couple of days and will continue to work on it when given the chance.
In my free time, I've been continuing to watch various anime and movies. My most recent viewing escapades have consisted of a rather disturbing anime called Elfen Lied, and a hilarious movie titled Run, Ronnie, Run!
Last night, I hooked up with some friends and watched a bootleg copy of Walk Hard, which goes on to poke fun at various famous musicians, from Johnny Cash to Bob Dylan to The Beatles — Jack Black plays Paul McCartney with fairly comical results.
I've still been entirely unable to write poetry in any way, shape or form, and have been looking in the oddest places for inspiration. This includes Gorillaz: Rise of the Ogre, the semi-fictional autobiography of the virtual band — a funny read.
As of now, I just received an update on recent events in the country and need to start working on cutting and pasting these articles together. I will then submit my veritable media Frankenstein to our Public Affairs Officer for review and call it a day.
Peace,
Feelgoode
What's up? Between now and my last entry, I've been flooded with completely random taskings from every corner of Camp Vance.
It would seem that at the last minute there had been a change of plans and it is no longer just myself in the office. With our NCOs gone, we have been left in charge of anything having to do with Combat Camera and/or Multimedia Illustration, which has kept us rather occupied.
On top of this turn of events, I've been given the job of compiling news articles relating to the events in Afghanistan, complete with a table of contents, a highlight of the separate sources, and a television broadcast summary. I have to do this every day. This particular task reaches far outside of my area of operations and places a third occupation on my plate — only one of which was voluntary.
Outside of that, I received a request to make a sign for a Sergeant First Class who aims to start his own business. I've been having fun with this over the past couple of days and will continue to work on it when given the chance.
In my free time, I've been continuing to watch various anime and movies. My most recent viewing escapades have consisted of a rather disturbing anime called Elfen Lied, and a hilarious movie titled Run, Ronnie, Run!
Last night, I hooked up with some friends and watched a bootleg copy of Walk Hard, which goes on to poke fun at various famous musicians, from Johnny Cash to Bob Dylan to The Beatles — Jack Black plays Paul McCartney with fairly comical results.
I've still been entirely unable to write poetry in any way, shape or form, and have been looking in the oddest places for inspiration. This includes Gorillaz: Rise of the Ogre, the semi-fictional autobiography of the virtual band — a funny read.
As of now, I just received an update on recent events in the country and need to start working on cutting and pasting these articles together. I will then submit my veritable media Frankenstein to our Public Affairs Officer for review and call it a day.
Peace,
Feelgoode
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Movies and Man-Jams...What Else is New?
Leon,
Been about a week since my last entry and I have some free time (a lot, actually) so I figured I'd shoot out a fresh one.
The time since my return from Salerno has been spent reading Wikipedia articles and watching movies — Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang is an outstanding film, and dragon fruit is also called "pitahaya." Now you know.
My poetry and art have been less productive, but not for lack of thought. I just can't seem to put my visions on paper.
In recent days, I've found myself listening to the funky and enjoyable tunes of Gorillaz. I've always enjoyed the band since I had seen the animated music video for their single Clint Eastwood. The band itself is, in fact, virtual. In other words, they're portrayed as cartoon characters with their own fictional backgrounds — most of which are humorously ridiculous.
The individual who provides the artwork for the group is mostly known for the comic book series Tank Girl, which has been made into a cult live-action film. Plans for a Gorillaz movie also are in the works; this, however will be animated.
Their sound is varied, often mixing various genres from hip-hop to Britpop to spoken verse. I recommend lending an ear — their second studio album, Demon Days, is amazing.
My taskings have been small with the most important request being to take pictures of a Major General eating breakfast and receiving a number of briefings. I've once again declined to attend the promotion board, stating that I had no desire to be an NCO.
My NCOIC respected my decision and withdrew my name from the list. Later, in my monthly counseling, he would state that my refusal to attend the board was a "Blatant slap in the face to him and the Corps." I certainly didn't intend for it to come off in that way, but made no attempt to reconcile.
Oddly enough, I'll be the only one in charge of the office for the following week — I have a water bottle filled 1/4 of the way with moist, empty sunflower seed husks, which will surely be filled in the process.
Currently, I'm busy trying to hook up with a local interpreter in an attempt to procure a set of what we call "Man-Jams" — the traditional articles of clothing worn by the local males, consisting of the baggy button-up shirt and loose pants, often worn with a cloth vest. I just have to get a tailor to take my measurements.
That's all for now.
Peace,
Feelgoode
Been about a week since my last entry and I have some free time (a lot, actually) so I figured I'd shoot out a fresh one.
The time since my return from Salerno has been spent reading Wikipedia articles and watching movies — Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang is an outstanding film, and dragon fruit is also called "pitahaya." Now you know.
My poetry and art have been less productive, but not for lack of thought. I just can't seem to put my visions on paper.
In recent days, I've found myself listening to the funky and enjoyable tunes of Gorillaz. I've always enjoyed the band since I had seen the animated music video for their single Clint Eastwood. The band itself is, in fact, virtual. In other words, they're portrayed as cartoon characters with their own fictional backgrounds — most of which are humorously ridiculous.
The individual who provides the artwork for the group is mostly known for the comic book series Tank Girl, which has been made into a cult live-action film. Plans for a Gorillaz movie also are in the works; this, however will be animated.
Their sound is varied, often mixing various genres from hip-hop to Britpop to spoken verse. I recommend lending an ear — their second studio album, Demon Days, is amazing.
My taskings have been small with the most important request being to take pictures of a Major General eating breakfast and receiving a number of briefings. I've once again declined to attend the promotion board, stating that I had no desire to be an NCO.
My NCOIC respected my decision and withdrew my name from the list. Later, in my monthly counseling, he would state that my refusal to attend the board was a "Blatant slap in the face to him and the Corps." I certainly didn't intend for it to come off in that way, but made no attempt to reconcile.
Oddly enough, I'll be the only one in charge of the office for the following week — I have a water bottle filled 1/4 of the way with moist, empty sunflower seed husks, which will surely be filled in the process.
Currently, I'm busy trying to hook up with a local interpreter in an attempt to procure a set of what we call "Man-Jams" — the traditional articles of clothing worn by the local males, consisting of the baggy button-up shirt and loose pants, often worn with a cloth vest. I just have to get a tailor to take my measurements.
That's all for now.
Peace,
Feelgoode
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Commandos and Chickens and Mad Cows, Oh My!
Leon,
It's been a while since my last entry, but that will be explained in the passages to follow. I've spent the past two weeks in Afghanistan's Khowst Province — FOB Salerno to be exact.
I had been assigned to accompany a team and provide photo coverage of their missions and training with the Commandos, Afghanistan's Special Forces. My incoming flight on an AC-130 was less than pleasant. Now, I'd like to say that I am a man who enjoys flying and has never experienced any form of motion sickness — until now.
The flight in itself was a mere 30 minutes; however, the heat combined with the constant turbulence involved with flying low over the mountains left me yearning for a swift landing.
Our landing was perhaps the worst I've experienced of any plane ride, being easily able to toss me from my seat had I not had a seat belt. After the plane came to a halt, the rear ramp was lowered to allow the airmen to unload our equipment.
Now, remaining on the plane to recover would have been fine, but shortly after the ramp was lowered we were assaulted by the noxious fumes of burning jet fuel.
Our eyes began to burn and it became difficult to breathe. We were left to marinate for another 10 to 15 minutes before being rushed off the plane. Glad to be free of that coffin, we hurried to the terminal to download our equipment before being picked up by the team I would be staying with for the next two weeks.
My comrade — a true combat cameraman — and I were led to where we would be sleeping, which turned out to be a large open bay lined with cots. I set up a cot, unrolled my sleeping bag and squared away what would be my temporary home.
Now, for the record, I would like to mention that the inside of this building, in its entirety, had been painted sky/powder/baby blue. Also, over these 13 or 14 days, I would acquire the best sleep I had ever had since I joined the military. Within two days, I was tasked to photograph Commandos firing mortars and administering IVs to one another.
I would then eat lunch on the Commando camp, which consisted of a large helping of rice cooked with small sweet berries and creamed corn, eaten by scooping with a piece of flat bread resembling a large pita. Dessert consisted of two oranges and the meal was washed down with a hot glass of chai. I'll go ahead and say right now that the food was delicious.
I slept for most of the following day, then tagged along on a mission to find and recover a suspected weapons cache hidden in a housing compound.
I sat in the open bed of an armored humvee with an Air Force dog handler and his dog named Carlos. The convoy took roughly 45 minutes of driving through rough side roads with a driver that held no regard for his passengers — more than a week later I still have a large bruise where my M4 came in contact with my knee on numerous occasions.
Upon arriving at our destination, the team commenced to clearing the compound, making sure that the women and children stayed out of our way. It was then that I was allowed into the compound to take photos.
I began snapping away at whatever caught my interest. Most of these photos consisted of Commandos searching rooms and pulling security. The compound itself was empty save for the livestock left behind, and oh God, there were chickens everywhere! They were in baskets, baby cribs, under pillows (no, I'm serious), and much to my amusement there was a chicken tethered to a stick in the ground, its leg outstretched as it tried to get away.
Here, I would also see the ugliest cow I've ever seen. It's difficult to describe its face, but it had these weird, bugged-out eyes — possibly blind. This cow, as it stands, was dubbed "Psycho Cow." There was also a large cow that tended to fly into a rage when approached and foamed at the mouth.
The highlight of the mission, for me at least, was the discovery a small puppy which seemed to be in surprisingly good health for where it was. In the end, we found nothing, but as we exited the compound, preparing to leave, a large explosion on a road visible from our position succeeded in capturing our attention. As we rolled out, we found no signs of an explosion — just an eviscerated coyote slumped over a large rock.
Over the next couple of days, I did nothing but sleep and play Call of Duty 4 with the team. The rules were relaxed, allowing me the freedom of going unshaven and out of uniform. Then came the real reason I was there. The mission was for the Commandos, with the support of U.S. soldiers, to infiltrate two compounds and capture three suspected insurgents within a two-hour time limit.
We air assaulted from a CG-47 Chinook not far from our target and fell back as a breach team took down the doors. We then filed into the compounds, gathering women and children to be searched. Among the crowd we discovered a male Afghan dressed as a woman in an attempt to hide. He was quickly taken into custody. The other compound yielded six more suspects (and another puppy). When it came time for extraction, we headed to our respective extraction points and waited.
Much to our chagrin, our Chinook touched down roughly 1000m from our location on the other side of a plot of land riddled with large trenches and pits. We took off running for our new extraction point in full battle rattle, finding it difficult to navigate this veritable obstacle course. We quickly loaded into the CH-47 and lifted off.
On a side note, the Chinook was surprisingly smooth, albeit noisy. After the completion of the mission, I would sleep for the next couple of days before flying back to Bagram, where I will no doubt spend the rest of this deployment.
Peace,
Feelgoode
It's been a while since my last entry, but that will be explained in the passages to follow. I've spent the past two weeks in Afghanistan's Khowst Province — FOB Salerno to be exact.
I had been assigned to accompany a team and provide photo coverage of their missions and training with the Commandos, Afghanistan's Special Forces. My incoming flight on an AC-130 was less than pleasant. Now, I'd like to say that I am a man who enjoys flying and has never experienced any form of motion sickness — until now.
The flight in itself was a mere 30 minutes; however, the heat combined with the constant turbulence involved with flying low over the mountains left me yearning for a swift landing.
Our landing was perhaps the worst I've experienced of any plane ride, being easily able to toss me from my seat had I not had a seat belt. After the plane came to a halt, the rear ramp was lowered to allow the airmen to unload our equipment.
Now, remaining on the plane to recover would have been fine, but shortly after the ramp was lowered we were assaulted by the noxious fumes of burning jet fuel.
Our eyes began to burn and it became difficult to breathe. We were left to marinate for another 10 to 15 minutes before being rushed off the plane. Glad to be free of that coffin, we hurried to the terminal to download our equipment before being picked up by the team I would be staying with for the next two weeks.
My comrade — a true combat cameraman — and I were led to where we would be sleeping, which turned out to be a large open bay lined with cots. I set up a cot, unrolled my sleeping bag and squared away what would be my temporary home.
Now, for the record, I would like to mention that the inside of this building, in its entirety, had been painted sky/powder/baby blue. Also, over these 13 or 14 days, I would acquire the best sleep I had ever had since I joined the military. Within two days, I was tasked to photograph Commandos firing mortars and administering IVs to one another.
I would then eat lunch on the Commando camp, which consisted of a large helping of rice cooked with small sweet berries and creamed corn, eaten by scooping with a piece of flat bread resembling a large pita. Dessert consisted of two oranges and the meal was washed down with a hot glass of chai. I'll go ahead and say right now that the food was delicious.
I slept for most of the following day, then tagged along on a mission to find and recover a suspected weapons cache hidden in a housing compound.
I sat in the open bed of an armored humvee with an Air Force dog handler and his dog named Carlos. The convoy took roughly 45 minutes of driving through rough side roads with a driver that held no regard for his passengers — more than a week later I still have a large bruise where my M4 came in contact with my knee on numerous occasions.
Upon arriving at our destination, the team commenced to clearing the compound, making sure that the women and children stayed out of our way. It was then that I was allowed into the compound to take photos.
I began snapping away at whatever caught my interest. Most of these photos consisted of Commandos searching rooms and pulling security. The compound itself was empty save for the livestock left behind, and oh God, there were chickens everywhere! They were in baskets, baby cribs, under pillows (no, I'm serious), and much to my amusement there was a chicken tethered to a stick in the ground, its leg outstretched as it tried to get away.
Here, I would also see the ugliest cow I've ever seen. It's difficult to describe its face, but it had these weird, bugged-out eyes — possibly blind. This cow, as it stands, was dubbed "Psycho Cow." There was also a large cow that tended to fly into a rage when approached and foamed at the mouth.
The highlight of the mission, for me at least, was the discovery a small puppy which seemed to be in surprisingly good health for where it was. In the end, we found nothing, but as we exited the compound, preparing to leave, a large explosion on a road visible from our position succeeded in capturing our attention. As we rolled out, we found no signs of an explosion — just an eviscerated coyote slumped over a large rock.
Over the next couple of days, I did nothing but sleep and play Call of Duty 4 with the team. The rules were relaxed, allowing me the freedom of going unshaven and out of uniform. Then came the real reason I was there. The mission was for the Commandos, with the support of U.S. soldiers, to infiltrate two compounds and capture three suspected insurgents within a two-hour time limit.
We air assaulted from a CG-47 Chinook not far from our target and fell back as a breach team took down the doors. We then filed into the compounds, gathering women and children to be searched. Among the crowd we discovered a male Afghan dressed as a woman in an attempt to hide. He was quickly taken into custody. The other compound yielded six more suspects (and another puppy). When it came time for extraction, we headed to our respective extraction points and waited.
Much to our chagrin, our Chinook touched down roughly 1000m from our location on the other side of a plot of land riddled with large trenches and pits. We took off running for our new extraction point in full battle rattle, finding it difficult to navigate this veritable obstacle course. We quickly loaded into the CH-47 and lifted off.
On a side note, the Chinook was surprisingly smooth, albeit noisy. After the completion of the mission, I would sleep for the next couple of days before flying back to Bagram, where I will no doubt spend the rest of this deployment.
Peace,
Feelgoode
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
