Day Three – Monday October 9, 2006
The next morning I was at the KMTC (Kabul Military Training Center) talking with my hero – see previous posting. He was right in the middle of telling me how several of his bad guys have threatened to kill him if he keeps investigating them when I got a phone call from Ken. He said I needed to get back immediately as the pre-trial confinement was not going like we thought. Merrill and I rushed back in time for me to walk into MGM’s office as everyone was sitting down. As I got to the office I saw that 4 of our US team were there loaded for bear. In addition to their side-arms they had their M4’s at the low ready. Not only were our guys there armed, but a few of Subject A’s loyalists were there with their AK 47’s. I walked into the office feeling a little nervous about what might happen. Seeing all the weapons and knowing how dangerous Subject A was, I was a little concerned about what would happen during the meeting.
In meetings with the ANA, there is a distinct pecking order in where you get to sit. The higher rank or more importance you carry, you get to sit at the head of the table or room. When I walked in, I got to sit on the left of COL Vitali and Ken. In other words, I was at the top of the totem pole. It was cool. In addition to Ken, Steve Esplin and Aaron were there, along with the French Colonel we work with, a Marine Major, MAJ Alvarez and our Command Sergeant Major. There were two translators; COL Vitali’s and mine. Subject A, his boss, a one-star, and MGM rounded out the people in the room. It was pretty crowded.
(I’ll admit, I can no longer remember the exact chain of events. It was a pretty tense meeting as you’ll soon see. I think Aaron may place events in a different order, but that’s really not important. Just know that they did happen.)
As I sat down, Subject A was already telling MGM how he was innocent and this was all a big mistake. That went on for several minutes. COL Vitali and Ken both chimed in that Subject A was a danger to the soldiers of the command and needed to be placed in PTC. Of course Subject A did not agree. The discussion of whether to place him in pre-trial confinement went back and forth. It was getting pretty heated.
Karim came in a few minutes later with an order signed by the prosecutor ordering Subject A to be placed in pre-trial confinement. MGM read it, looked up and basically said that now that there was a signed order, he couldn’t do anything more. Of course, Subject A continued to argue otherwise. He had his boss try and persuade MGM to place Subject A in restriction on base. Boss said he would vouch for him. Of course we said that would not work. Boss then suggested that he be sent to another command. Again, a bad idea. Finally, Subject A whispered in Boss’ ear that he should be placed under the supervision of the Corps Intelligence Officer. A really bad idea as the Intelligence Officer is almost as bad as Subject A. (More to tell about the Intel Officer in a minute.)
As Subject A began to realize he was going to be placed in pre-trial confinement, the tension in the room really began to rise. I wear a shoulder holster for my 9mm. At one point I realized that I had reached across, unsnapped the holster and had my hand around the pistol grip. I was wondering how I could chamber a round without anyone hearing it. I then noticed that Ken and COL Vitali both had their hands on their weapons as well. I knew at that moment that we had reached the climax. Fortunately Subject A didn’t do anything.
Later that day as we were all discussing the case, Steve, Aaron, and all the other officers had done the same thing I’d done. Some had actually pulled their weapons from the holster. MAJ Alveraz had an asp and had extended it half-way out. It was pretty tense. The Command Sergeant Major joked that had there been a gun fight, everyone in the room would have been shot except for Subject A. He may not have been too far from the truth.
I’d finally had enough. It had already been announced that he was going to be placed in pre-trial confinement and nothing was happening, other than the fact that all the Americans had their hands on their weapons. None of the ANA were doing anything. So I took the “bull by the horns,” directed my attention to Boss and said something like this, “Sir, let’s be honest here. We all know of the Colonel’s (I don’t refer to him as a General since he’s not one) reputation for violence. We all know what he’s accused of doing in Darulaman and why he was transferred here. We all know that he’s been on probation and he has now violated that probation. This officer is a danger to your command.” Or something like that.
I then got out the code and read the dirt-bag his rights. (I wanted to put a more vulgar term for him in there but am trying to clean up my language and didn’t want to offend anyone.) I stared him down and advised him of his right to remain silent. I advised him of the charges against him. I advised him of the fact that if he made any statements, they could be used against him in court. I finally advised him of his right to counsel; either appointed counsel or that he could hire one himself. I asked him if he understood these rights. He said he did.
It was pretty cool. I felt like a prosecutor again. I haven’t felt that way in a long time – and can’t wait to feel that way again. I just stared him down and treated him like the filthy scum that he is. I didn’t flinch, not once. It was quite the fulfilling experience.
I didn’t think that I had done anything extraordinary. I just fell into my prosecutor mode and was running on auto-pilot. When I got back to my office later, I found a note on my desk that said, “You’re my Hero!!” with a drawing of a superhero with “SB” (Super Bob) on the cape. I knew who it was from – see Aaron’s blog, and may I just go on record as saying I always knew I was his hero and am extracting the appropriate amount of hero worship from him – but I wasn’t sure why I got the note. I then went into their work spaces and got high-fived from several of the guys in there. They told me that they heard that I had kicked some major butt. They said that Ken and Steve both said that I had big…uh, big…biceps, yea, that’s what they said. (Steve is now calling me “BB” you know, Big Biceps.) Anyway about that time Ken and Steve both walked in. I got knuckle bumped by them both. They again commented on my big biceps. I finally asked what this was all about. Steve, who is a Lieutenant with the Utah Highway Patrol said that I was the killer prosecutor. He said he felt like he was back in court watching the prosecutor rip the defendant a new one. He said he was back in his Tropper mode and could tell I was in my prosecutor mode. He was right but I didn’t think I deserved all the attention, but of course I was basking in their admiration. Later when I was in the CO’s office, the Command Sergeant Major also commented on my big biceps – guys here have a thing about big biceps I’ve decided – and what a great job I did. The best part of the whole thing is, it took my relationship with COL Vitali to a new level and that was a good thing. (I later told Janae about the comments I was getting about my big biceps and she said she’s been telling me that for years.)
Anyway, on with the story…
MGM excused Subject A, Steve, Aaron, MAJ Alvarez, the French Colonel and kept the rest of us there. He again asked if there was no way to simply reassign him somewhere else on the base. We were all very forceful in explaining that for one thing, it was out of his hands and two, the main reason for placing him in pre-trial confinement was to protect the witnesses.
Boy did that one back-fire on us. Read on. “What?” you ask yourself. There’s more? “But I’ve been reading for “hours already and you want me to read more?” Just think of me having to type this. It’s taken me almost 4 days to get this far. So shut up and keep reading.
MGM finally agreed that he had no choice and brought the meeting to a close. As we walked out, someone said that Subject A needed to be searched for weapons. Boss said he didn’t have anything but of course no one was going to trust Subject A’s assertion that he didn’t have any weapons on him. Turns out he didn’t but we still had to be sure. He was on his cell phone talking with someone so we had to get that away from him ASAP.
He was then escorted out and taken to the holding facility. What a victory!! I didn’t realize that the drama was going to continue the way it has.
I went back to the KMTC and spent the day.
When I got back from the KMTC I learned that the reason for the pre-trial confinement, that of witness protection, had been foiled.
The guards at the confinement facility did nothing to prevent the steady stream of visitors Subject A had the whole day. The guys from our team that went to check on him discovered that he had received many gifts from his loyalists, that Subject A had sent 3-4 of them to the hospital to convince the victim to change his story and other things and had hatched several other plots (rioting, burning, destruction), none of which came to fruition fortunately.
When I found out that the victim had been contacted, I called Karim and told him. He sent the prosecutor to the hospital and to our relief discovered that the victim was not going to change his story. He was adamant about testifying against Subject A. I told Karim that he needed to do something about limiting the number of visitor to Subject A. He said he’d take care of it. Unfortunately he didn’t do enough.
The intel officer ended up spending most of the night with Subject A. Since that time, the intel officer has been approaching key witnesses telling them it’s their fault Subject A is in confinement and that they need to change their stories. I’ve reported this to MGM and Karim twice and yet he still continues to go around talking with witnesses. I think it may be time to go back into prosecutor mode and confront this guy and threaten him with prosecution if he doesn’t stop his witness tampering. I’ll keep you posted.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Day Four
Day Four – Tuesday, October 10, 2006
The next day I was with Karim interviewing witnesses when three officers from the Inspector General’s office showed up. They were sent by Burger King to look into things. They had no authority to investigate this case other than Suspect A’s protector, Burger King, was making some attempts at protecting him and intimidating the legal officers. I had my contacts at the higher level look into it and they confirmed that Burger King had ordered the investigation but that he told them to only make sure that the legal procedure was being followed. Since procedures were being followed, they had to go home with their tails between their legs. Both Karim and Boss told them to “get the he** out of here” or at least that was the Dari equivalent. As Merrill and I exited the office we had to pass through several of Subject A’s supporters. You know the old saying, “If looks could kill?” Well we’d be dead right now.
Oh, remember Boss? He was advocating to keep Subject A there with him or at least not put him in pre-trial confinement, well he’s changed his tune. Now he’s actually taking credit to putting Subject A in PTC. That’s OK. He’s got to protect himself as well and I’m sure he felt that to maintain some working relationship with Subject A he had to play the part of his supporter. For him it may have literally been a matter of life and death. Since the arrest of Subject A, Boss has had a steady stream of soldiers in his office shaking his hand and thanking him for putting Subject A in PTC.
It was also that day that we received intel that Subject A was directing his minions to create a tremendous amount of destruction and chaos within the command. Fortunately it didn’t happen. But this just further emphasized the fact that he was a danger to the command and witnesses because of his ability to direct these activities from his cell.
Not only does Subject A have the Intel officer on his side, but the Mullah of the Brigade. Apparently he went to see Burger King and told him that it was the Americans that had Subject A arrested, that there was no reason for the arrest and that Subject A was being unjustly persecuted. Nice religious guy.
Late that night, COL Vitali knocked on my door. He said that he had just received word that Subject A’s grandmother had died and he wanted to be released for three days so he could go to the funeral. Vitali told me to be prepared to mentor the JAG to not release him. I told him I’d take care of it.
The next day I was with Karim interviewing witnesses when three officers from the Inspector General’s office showed up. They were sent by Burger King to look into things. They had no authority to investigate this case other than Suspect A’s protector, Burger King, was making some attempts at protecting him and intimidating the legal officers. I had my contacts at the higher level look into it and they confirmed that Burger King had ordered the investigation but that he told them to only make sure that the legal procedure was being followed. Since procedures were being followed, they had to go home with their tails between their legs. Both Karim and Boss told them to “get the he** out of here” or at least that was the Dari equivalent. As Merrill and I exited the office we had to pass through several of Subject A’s supporters. You know the old saying, “If looks could kill?” Well we’d be dead right now.
Oh, remember Boss? He was advocating to keep Subject A there with him or at least not put him in pre-trial confinement, well he’s changed his tune. Now he’s actually taking credit to putting Subject A in PTC. That’s OK. He’s got to protect himself as well and I’m sure he felt that to maintain some working relationship with Subject A he had to play the part of his supporter. For him it may have literally been a matter of life and death. Since the arrest of Subject A, Boss has had a steady stream of soldiers in his office shaking his hand and thanking him for putting Subject A in PTC.
It was also that day that we received intel that Subject A was directing his minions to create a tremendous amount of destruction and chaos within the command. Fortunately it didn’t happen. But this just further emphasized the fact that he was a danger to the command and witnesses because of his ability to direct these activities from his cell.
Not only does Subject A have the Intel officer on his side, but the Mullah of the Brigade. Apparently he went to see Burger King and told him that it was the Americans that had Subject A arrested, that there was no reason for the arrest and that Subject A was being unjustly persecuted. Nice religious guy.
Late that night, COL Vitali knocked on my door. He said that he had just received word that Subject A’s grandmother had died and he wanted to be released for three days so he could go to the funeral. Vitali told me to be prepared to mentor the JAG to not release him. I told him I’d take care of it.
Day Five
Day Five Wednesday October 11, 2006
The next morning I was sitting in our 0700 staff meeting. Vitali was not there. MAJ Brown, the XO was conducting the meeting. He received a phone call and looked at me and said that “he will be right there.” It was Vitali summoning me to MGM’s office. I borrowed keys to a truck and hurried up there. I knew it was going to be about the funeral.
Sure enough, MGM wanted to let Subject A go to the funeral. The cynic in me had to ask the General if in fact Subject A’s grandmother was dead. He assured me that he investigated it and she was. I still didn’t think she was dead. In fact, I don’t think he really had a grandmother. I think he is a spawn of the devil and hatched from some putrid pile of slime. OK, I wanted to say something else again but refrained.
Anyway, MGM was explaining that culturally, he needed to be at the funeral. COL Vitali and I once again had to argue why he should not be released. I let the General know what he had been doing and that if he was released he’d be able to carry out his own plans. Because MGM wanted to know who had the authority to release Subject A and because Karim wasn’t at work yet, he summoned the Chief Judge to his office to interpret the code and to discuss who had the authority to release him and under what conditions. In the US, the judge would never be involved in these types of discussions. The judge must remain absolutely impartial and unaware of the facts until they’re presented in court. Here, it works a little differently. The judge actually gets a copy of the entire file when the indictment is filed. I know, it seems weird to those of us who are used to our way of justice but that’s the way it works. So, while I was a little uncomfortable with the Chief Judge sitting there, I knew that he would ultimately get the case file anyway.
Fortunately the judge said that it was the prosecutor who had the authority to release the defendant. He said that while most times the prison would release a prisoner for a funeral, there were times when it was not appropriate. He basically laid out the same reasons that I’d already told the General. It was great to be validated by the Chief Judge.
MGM still wasn’t convinced. While we were meeting, he got a call from Burger King to come see him at the Ministry of Defense. MGM was visibly not happy about such a meeting. Neither were we. After MGM left, I met with Karim to discuss what might happen. The fear was that Burger King would pressure MGM enough that he would order the prosecutor to release Subject A. Karim, to his credit, said, that he would rather be fired than allow Subject A to be released. I was thrilled to hear that.
After my meeting with Karim, we had a visit from a senior officer from our higher’s higher command. Does that make sense? Vitali and I met with him and outlined our case. During that meeting, we got a call that Mangal had returned. We immediately went up to the hill to meet with him to see what had happened with his meeting with Burger King. We were pleased to find out that Burger King only wanted to find out if MGM was the one to place Subject A in PTC or if it was the Americans and whether or not there was enough evidence to support the charge. MGM said that Burger King had not pressured him to do anything. That was great. We actually had a very pleasant visit. As we were walking out, he couldn’t help himself, and said that it would be nice if Subject A could be released to attend his grandmother’s funeral. I said that I understood but that it was the prosecutor’s decision. He said, “of course, of course.”
The next morning I was sitting in our 0700 staff meeting. Vitali was not there. MAJ Brown, the XO was conducting the meeting. He received a phone call and looked at me and said that “he will be right there.” It was Vitali summoning me to MGM’s office. I borrowed keys to a truck and hurried up there. I knew it was going to be about the funeral.
Sure enough, MGM wanted to let Subject A go to the funeral. The cynic in me had to ask the General if in fact Subject A’s grandmother was dead. He assured me that he investigated it and she was. I still didn’t think she was dead. In fact, I don’t think he really had a grandmother. I think he is a spawn of the devil and hatched from some putrid pile of slime. OK, I wanted to say something else again but refrained.
Anyway, MGM was explaining that culturally, he needed to be at the funeral. COL Vitali and I once again had to argue why he should not be released. I let the General know what he had been doing and that if he was released he’d be able to carry out his own plans. Because MGM wanted to know who had the authority to release Subject A and because Karim wasn’t at work yet, he summoned the Chief Judge to his office to interpret the code and to discuss who had the authority to release him and under what conditions. In the US, the judge would never be involved in these types of discussions. The judge must remain absolutely impartial and unaware of the facts until they’re presented in court. Here, it works a little differently. The judge actually gets a copy of the entire file when the indictment is filed. I know, it seems weird to those of us who are used to our way of justice but that’s the way it works. So, while I was a little uncomfortable with the Chief Judge sitting there, I knew that he would ultimately get the case file anyway.
Fortunately the judge said that it was the prosecutor who had the authority to release the defendant. He said that while most times the prison would release a prisoner for a funeral, there were times when it was not appropriate. He basically laid out the same reasons that I’d already told the General. It was great to be validated by the Chief Judge.
MGM still wasn’t convinced. While we were meeting, he got a call from Burger King to come see him at the Ministry of Defense. MGM was visibly not happy about such a meeting. Neither were we. After MGM left, I met with Karim to discuss what might happen. The fear was that Burger King would pressure MGM enough that he would order the prosecutor to release Subject A. Karim, to his credit, said, that he would rather be fired than allow Subject A to be released. I was thrilled to hear that.
After my meeting with Karim, we had a visit from a senior officer from our higher’s higher command. Does that make sense? Vitali and I met with him and outlined our case. During that meeting, we got a call that Mangal had returned. We immediately went up to the hill to meet with him to see what had happened with his meeting with Burger King. We were pleased to find out that Burger King only wanted to find out if MGM was the one to place Subject A in PTC or if it was the Americans and whether or not there was enough evidence to support the charge. MGM said that Burger King had not pressured him to do anything. That was great. We actually had a very pleasant visit. As we were walking out, he couldn’t help himself, and said that it would be nice if Subject A could be released to attend his grandmother’s funeral. I said that I understood but that it was the prosecutor’s decision. He said, “of course, of course.”
Day Six
Day Six – Thursday October 12, 2006
So that takes me to today. We had another visit from another set of folks from our higher’s higher. This time it was the lawyers that I work with. They were interested in the status of the case. We had a good discussion of the procedures we’d been following as well as what the plan for the case was. I was glad to hear, again, that the prosecutor was sticking to his guns and was not going to release Subject A. My next question was when he would be transferred to the prison to be held instead of holding him here on base. He said it would happen on Saturday. Tomorrow, Friday, is there holiday so no one works. I am hoping that he will in fact be transferred.
So that just about brings you up to date on this saga. I can’t believe that I’m on page 8. Realize that this narration is really not for you the general reader, but for me so I can remember all the details for when I write my memoirs or write a book about the many adventures I had in Afghanistan. It’s also for my die hard fans (a.k.a. Janae) who will amazingly read every word and even more amazingly find it remotely interesting.
OK, the saga is not over. I just heard that Subject A may be getting released every night around 10:00 p.m. to go home. We’re setting up a “raid” to go over to the holding cell to see if he’s really there. So, I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to post this so I can let you know what happens on our raid. I hope he’s gone so he can be charged with “escape from custody” which carries a pretty stiff penalty. I suggested that if he were there, we should let him go, then shoot him and claim he was trying to escape. I guess that’s not very lawyerly of me. It would solve a lot of our problems though.
Well our raid was executed with detailed military precision. We left at 11:00 p.m. from our location. LTC Ken Mundt, LTC Steve Esplin, me and Sergeant Major Larry Hansen were riding in the cab of the truck. Aaron, SFC Damon Harvey and MAJ Burke Tarbott were in the back. We were all armed and ready for anything. As we left, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to be there or not. If he were there, we would be able to return quickly and go to bed. If he was gone, we’d be up half the night. I wish I could give you lots of exciting details about how we were ambushed by his loyalists on the way; how we stormed the holding cell taking out the enemy as we fought our way inside. I wish I could tell you that bullets were whizzing by my ears and that I was miraculously saved from harm. But that’s not what happened.
We showed up outside the holding cell and found a soldier washing a command vehicle. We walked inside the building and asked where Subject A was. Someone said they didn’t know, that maybe he was in the latrine. My heart began to race a little thinking that he may not be there. Then, someone went into his room, flipped on the light and there he was in his jammies, fast asleep. Pretty boring huh? It was then that I decided that I was glad that he was there. It sure made life easier. As we were leaving, Subject A told Ken that if we brought back a lawyer, he was willing to make a statement. Now that will be interesting to see what he’s willing to tell us.
That will have to come in another posting.
So for now, the saga is on hold as tomorrow is everyone’s day off and nothing should happen.
So that takes me to today. We had another visit from another set of folks from our higher’s higher. This time it was the lawyers that I work with. They were interested in the status of the case. We had a good discussion of the procedures we’d been following as well as what the plan for the case was. I was glad to hear, again, that the prosecutor was sticking to his guns and was not going to release Subject A. My next question was when he would be transferred to the prison to be held instead of holding him here on base. He said it would happen on Saturday. Tomorrow, Friday, is there holiday so no one works. I am hoping that he will in fact be transferred.
So that just about brings you up to date on this saga. I can’t believe that I’m on page 8. Realize that this narration is really not for you the general reader, but for me so I can remember all the details for when I write my memoirs or write a book about the many adventures I had in Afghanistan. It’s also for my die hard fans (a.k.a. Janae) who will amazingly read every word and even more amazingly find it remotely interesting.
OK, the saga is not over. I just heard that Subject A may be getting released every night around 10:00 p.m. to go home. We’re setting up a “raid” to go over to the holding cell to see if he’s really there. So, I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to post this so I can let you know what happens on our raid. I hope he’s gone so he can be charged with “escape from custody” which carries a pretty stiff penalty. I suggested that if he were there, we should let him go, then shoot him and claim he was trying to escape. I guess that’s not very lawyerly of me. It would solve a lot of our problems though.
Well our raid was executed with detailed military precision. We left at 11:00 p.m. from our location. LTC Ken Mundt, LTC Steve Esplin, me and Sergeant Major Larry Hansen were riding in the cab of the truck. Aaron, SFC Damon Harvey and MAJ Burke Tarbott were in the back. We were all armed and ready for anything. As we left, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to be there or not. If he were there, we would be able to return quickly and go to bed. If he was gone, we’d be up half the night. I wish I could give you lots of exciting details about how we were ambushed by his loyalists on the way; how we stormed the holding cell taking out the enemy as we fought our way inside. I wish I could tell you that bullets were whizzing by my ears and that I was miraculously saved from harm. But that’s not what happened.
We showed up outside the holding cell and found a soldier washing a command vehicle. We walked inside the building and asked where Subject A was. Someone said they didn’t know, that maybe he was in the latrine. My heart began to race a little thinking that he may not be there. Then, someone went into his room, flipped on the light and there he was in his jammies, fast asleep. Pretty boring huh? It was then that I decided that I was glad that he was there. It sure made life easier. As we were leaving, Subject A told Ken that if we brought back a lawyer, he was willing to make a statement. Now that will be interesting to see what he’s willing to tell us.
That will have to come in another posting.
So for now, the saga is on hold as tomorrow is everyone’s day off and nothing should happen.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
My First Box of Humanitarian Items Arrived!!
Many thanks to Paula Goodfellow from California for sending me a box of children's clothes. I don't know Paula but that doesn't matter. She responded to our call for help and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. As soon as we get a project planned where these clothes can be distributed, I'll be there passing out her donations. I'll post another entry showing pictures of the kids who will receive her items.
I know that others are sending me things for the kids but since Paula was the first, she gets her own page.
Again, thanks Paula!
I know that others are sending me things for the kids but since Paula was the first, she gets her own page.
Again, thanks Paula!
Friday, October 06, 2006
More PIctures
Our command has a shared drive where people are able to download pictures they've taken. I've been copying them to my own drive and decided to share some with you.
Here's a pretty good shot overlooking our camp, looking east towards the mountains.
The second shot is looking towards the same direction, but now you can't see the mountains because of the dust in the air. Just think we have to breathe that junk in. Nasty.
These are pictures from the eastern part of the country. As you can see, it's quite beautiful.
An ANA Kitchen. How'd you like to cook there every day?
How about living on a tent on top of a roof?
Another part of the country. The mountain passes are incredibly rugged.
Some pretty primitive living conditions our guys and ANA soldiers are living in.
I love this picture. It says so much...like in your face Taliban!!
Here's a pretty good shot overlooking our camp, looking east towards the mountains.
The second shot is looking towards the same direction, but now you can't see the mountains because of the dust in the air. Just think we have to breathe that junk in. Nasty.
These are pictures from the eastern part of the country. As you can see, it's quite beautiful.
An ANA Kitchen. How'd you like to cook there every day?
How about living on a tent on top of a roof?
Another part of the country. The mountain passes are incredibly rugged.
Some pretty primitive living conditions our guys and ANA soldiers are living in.
I love this picture. It says so much...like in your face Taliban!!
This is how you do business with village elders, you sit around on the floor and talk. My boss, COL Vitali is in the lower, right hand corner.
An ANA cannon draped in the Afghan flag. This was taken at a fires demonstration. They fired rockets, had the tanks out, the helicopters were flying. I heard it was a very impressive demonstration. I'd post the pictures, but I've run out of time. Maybe later.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Picture Time Again
It’s picture time again. Here are some pictures from the bazaar and the types of things that are offered for sale. It’s fun going and looking. What I don’t like are the young boys/men who come up, want to shake your hand and then try and drag you to their stand. It wouldn’t be so bad if their hands weren’t so sweaty or dirty. So now I know who wants to shake hands and try to avoid them if at all possible. 
There are so many things you can buy; carpets, brass items, hand carved/made furniture, jewelry, rough-cut gem stones (most of which are made in the lab) antique firearms, pirated CD/DVD's, scarves, tailor-made suits, things made out of marble,
Some pictures of the buildings that have been shot at during past wars and disturbances. It’s a solemn reminder of the violence that has plagued this country.
Here's a picture of me and and my roommate Scott. He looks big and imposing, but he's really a big, ole softie.
Here's a picture of ANA (Afghan National Army) soldiers crouching. Afghan men can crouch like this forever. You see young and old men alike in this position everywhere. It makes my knees ache just to see them in this position.
Some more pictures of our trip up north....
There's Aaron keeping security for us.
A woman in a burka and her son, as seen through the windshield. She's covered head to toe.
Now a view from the front...
The vendor is weighing out wood to sell to the guy. There are shops everywhere that sell nothing but pieces of wood. It's quite interesting. That's one reason this area has no trees. They were cut down to use for fuel during the Taliban reign.
And here's the wood shop for your daily supply of fire wood.
Want some fresh, fly covered goat?
An abandoned transport vehicle overlooking the river and valley.
A command picnic we had a few weeks ago. A small part of our LDS group (facing the camera): SGT Lecker, SFC LeBarron, me, CPT Curtis.
The King's palace in Kabul. It was bombed during the Russian invasion and has never been rebuilt.
The crowded streets of Kabul. That's literally how close other vehicles get to us. It's pretty crazy.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Trip Outside of Camp
The other day I finally had the opportunity to get out of camp and see other parts of the country. My team from Utah has been helping their ANA folks conduct inventories, inspections and generally checking on the status of outposts within the Corps area. One command post they visited, there were 19 locked storage boxes. The ANA did not and would not let our guys look into them. The story change several times as to who actually “owned” the boxes. The changing stories as well as the extreme reluctance to allow our guys to look in them naturally raised suspicions. When they returned that afternoon, they sought me out and asked me to go back with them the next day. They were going to do a surprise inspection and if the soldiers continued to prevent them from looking in them, they were going to cut the locks off. They thought that having the American JAG with them would lend some weight and, of course, an extreme amount of credibility to what they were doing.
The first part of our journey was over dry, dusty and rocky roads. As I said in a previous
posting, the dust here is like a very fine talcum powder. As you walk through it, it raises clouds of choking dust. As you drive through it, it’s even worse. Since our vehicles are not air tight – the gunner in the tower, the dust gets everywhere. I have never sneezed and coughed so much since I’ve been here. At times, I actually gag because of the dust. (This picture shows the dry terrain. It also shows an example of the many walls that are built. A lot of the walls don't encompass anything but dirt. We think that someone claimed the real estate, may someday plan to build something there eventually but in the meantime, came and built a wall around thier piece of dirt. In any event, you see lots and lots of walls. The Afghans love to build walls.)Let me digress for a minute and explain where the dust gets. Merrill and I were driving back “home” and driving through the dust. The wind was blowing so that was stirring up the dust as well. After we got back, I was in the gym on the elliptical. I was starting to sweat and ran my hand through my short hair. It felt like sandpaper. I took the white towel and rubbed my head and the towel turned brown. I couldn’t believe it. I was driving, wearing a bandana on my head with my helmet on top of that and I still had dirt and dust in my hair. It’s incredible the places the dust goes. And you thought I was going to talk about something else.
Anyway, back to the story. We finally came upon a paved road. I didn’t realize they existed here outside of Kabul that is. It was barely wide enough for two lanes and it had plenty of potholes, cracks and repairs, but it was still hardball. It was great as we were able to make great time and no dust.
The closer we got to our destination, the more green things became. The valley we first went two had a clear, beautiful river running through it. And where there’s water, there’s green. Trees, corn, fields of grass and all other kinds of greenery. It was actually beautiful. I thought that the country once looked like that before the Taliban came and destroyed everything.(It's hard to recognize the beauty in this picture, but believe me it was green. In the distance you can see the "luxury" homes on the hill. They're all mud and brick. I thought of the homes on our hills that command such a view. These are not even remotely close to what their American counterparts would be.)
When we got to our destination, we were met with resistance when we told them we wanted to open the containers. After those of our officers in charge explained that we were going to open the containers either with a key or bolt cutters, the ANA became a little more compliant. They
called the representative of the ministry of defense and explained what was happening. He said that he would be right over and bring the keys. To make a long story short, he arrived too late. We began cutting open the locks.I was hoping for a little more resistance from the ANA to make things interesting, but they actually became pretty compliant. Then, I was hoping for something totally cool and illegal in the containers. Here’s what we found; bed frames, target frames, motor oil, watering cans, fuel storage tanks, moldy pillows, etc. Pretty anticlimactic. Actually I was glad that it ended up
pretty peaceful. I’m not sure what I would have done had things gone bad. Aaron was with us and he was being the security conscious soldier and maintaining a security watch. Me, I was observing the lock cutting and exuding my JAGness and making people think I was really cool. OK, I was simply observing, keeping a record of what was happening. Pretty boring. 
(Two missles painted, and used as garden decorations.)
Our next destination required us to travel across the valley to the other side. There were no major roads so we ended up traveling along very narrow roads, alleys almost. We passed through several villages. Scott Flannery, my roommate, has told me about the very narrow streets they’ve driven through but I had a hard time believing him about how narrow they really were. I’m no longer a disbeliever. People, vehicles, shops and walls all crowded around us. At times we
would come to a complete standstill as there was no where to go and there were vehicles in front of us. Had the crowd been hostile, I would have felt very nervous, but they were very friendly, waving at us, smiling. The only real time I became nervous was when a couple of young men came right up to my window and stared in. I supposed it didn’t help that I had been taking pictures out my window so maybe they were just trying to see who I was and 
what I was doing.Once again, I was reminded of my mission from all the things being offered for sale. I’ll include the pictures to give you some idea. The dead goats hanging in the shops with the flies swarming was particularly appetizing. Makes you grateful for the meat section at your local grocery store.
The drive across the valley was beautiful. We crossed the river, several streams and irrigation ditches. The water was very clean. I was surprised. People were everywhere and it was fun to see the old and young alike as we drove through their villages. Everything was green. Trees lined the road. It was something I haven’t seen in a long time.
The next outpost we checked in on was on a bluff overlooking the river and the valley. I hope the pictures will give you an idea of how beautiful it was. I forgot to mention about the buildings at the first location we went to, but they looked abandoned. So did the next outpost. If I didn’t know that soldiers were stationed there, I would have assumed that they had been abandoned years ago. Broken glass, broken windows and doors in the buildings. Dirt and trash on the floors. Pealing paint. The smell of old, abandoned 
buildings. It was all there. And yet, these soldiers have nothing else to use for their buildings and their sleeping quarters. It made me so grateful for what I have.While my US counterparts did their thing with the ANA, I was able to walk around and look at the valley. On three sides I had this incredible view of the green valley, the river, the river floodplane and the small village on the river. It was very beautiful and very peaceful. It made me sad to think of how war-torn this country is in other parts. I longed for the peace that I felt in this area to permeate the entire country. But with the intel we’re receiving, it may be a very long time before that happens.
(This is a grave and shrine to a military hero that moved to this valley and then died there. The poles and strips of cloth are typical of war heroes. You see them all over the country.)
Right before we left fisherman waded into the river with their nets and began casting them into the river. It was fun to watch them. Two men were in the middle of the river with their nets. Others were on the shore casting them. Then the guys on the shore began throwing rocks into the water. I can only assume it was to drive the fish towards the nets.
We also saw a couple of boys swimming in the river. It looked so inviting, especially since the air conditioning in our vehicle had gone out several hours earlier. Added to the no AC, our vehicle was running hot. It never overheated but it was running hot so you could feel the heat rising up from the floor. It was pretty miserable. Almost Shelby like; sweat running down my chest and back. So, when we got out and saw the kids swimming, I just about walked down the hill and got in with them. I’m glad I didn’t go down the hill though as we were told that the Russians had mined the hillside and all the mines had not yet been recovered. Glad I didn’t go off on some expedition.
As we drove back, the winds started up. The wind has been blowing every day for the last several days. When you have wind and dust you get terrible dust storms, It was so bad we couldn’t see the vehicle in front of us. So of course we were covered in dust inside the vehicle. I felt bad for the gunners in the turrets as they were completely brown by the time we got back. My M4 was covered in dust and dirt. I can only imagine how nasty it’s going to be when I clean it on Friday.
Despite the dust and the heat and my sore rear end (from sitting all day on those uncomfortable seats, it was a great day. I hope to be able to get out a little more often, when it’s safe, and see some more of this country.
Another Quote
Aaron’s brother Adam sent me the following quote, in response to my George Washington quote of last month. You can see how good I am about responding to mail, etc. I appreciated him sending it to me.
Abigail Adams (wife to John) wrote to her son John Quincy saying,"These are the times in which a genius would wish to live. It is not in the still calm of life, or the repose of a pacific station, that great characters are formed." She continues. "Great necessities call out great virtues. When a mind is raised, and animated by scenes that engage the heart, then those qualities which would otherwise lay dormant, wake into life and form the character of the hero and the statesman."
This quote, like the one from George Washington, expresses the situation we find ourselves in. Some of our soldiers down range are being fired upon on a daily and weekly basis. They are being called upon to reach deep down inside and find that inner strength that most of us hope is buried there somewhere. They’re doing a great job and those of us not facing those similar dangers appreciate the work they are doing.
Even those of us that don’t face those same kinds of dangers face different dangers and challenges. I’m amazed as I look at “us” as a whole and see the changes that we’ve been forced to make. We’re more aware, we’re more cautious, we’re more grateful. I hope and pray that the day never comes that we begin to receive mortars and rockets in our camp but you never know. We still have a long time to go before we set foot back in the US. Keep praying for us that we’ll be safe, but more importantly, pray that we’ll find within ourselves that quality of character which will allow us to successfully fulfill our mission and leave this country better than we found it.
Abigail Adams (wife to John) wrote to her son John Quincy saying,"These are the times in which a genius would wish to live. It is not in the still calm of life, or the repose of a pacific station, that great characters are formed." She continues. "Great necessities call out great virtues. When a mind is raised, and animated by scenes that engage the heart, then those qualities which would otherwise lay dormant, wake into life and form the character of the hero and the statesman."
This quote, like the one from George Washington, expresses the situation we find ourselves in. Some of our soldiers down range are being fired upon on a daily and weekly basis. They are being called upon to reach deep down inside and find that inner strength that most of us hope is buried there somewhere. They’re doing a great job and those of us not facing those similar dangers appreciate the work they are doing.
Even those of us that don’t face those same kinds of dangers face different dangers and challenges. I’m amazed as I look at “us” as a whole and see the changes that we’ve been forced to make. We’re more aware, we’re more cautious, we’re more grateful. I hope and pray that the day never comes that we begin to receive mortars and rockets in our camp but you never know. We still have a long time to go before we set foot back in the US. Keep praying for us that we’ll be safe, but more importantly, pray that we’ll find within ourselves that quality of character which will allow us to successfully fulfill our mission and leave this country better than we found it.
Friday, September 29, 2006
A Month
We've been here a month. Actually we've been here longer than a month but today is the last day of September which means that we've been here for a whole calendar month, plus a few more days.
As you've been reading, this first month has been marked by lots of different experiences. Some are good, some not so good. I think the best part is that it's gone by pretty fast.
We have a saying here that, "Every day's a Monday" and it certainly feels like it. I don't know how to describe it other than every day you go through that first day of the week, first day back to work, first day of forever feeling. While each day is certainly different, it still feels like a Monday.
Because every day is different, it helps to pass the time. Here are some of my little tricks. Janae sent me with my weekly medicine reminder. You know the kind, the plastic box with seven compartments to put your pills in? At home, we each have one and she puts our multitude of daily vitamins in them. Well I brought mine so every Friday I load mine up with my daily vitamin, my glucosimine with condroiton, my Vitamin E, my Naproxin, my fish oil (I hate that one), my garlic (I'm getting low and will have to have Janae send me some or order some on-line) and the myriad other little pills and vitamins I've got to put it. So when I take my pills, I can see the days dwindling down each week.
Then there's my work. I've got a schedule of where I go and when. I can't tell you the details for security reasons - you never know who's reading my entries and I don't want them to know my travel plans, but each day I have a different location and different legal officer to meet with. For instance, today I'm meeting with....Oh yeah, can't tell you.
Then there's the chow hall. Thursday night is Italian night. Thursday night last, we had spaghetti with really thin Prego spaghetti sauce - not very good, in addition to other things Italian. Friday nights are grilled steak and lobster tail - no kidding. Last night I had this big ole steak, some ribs, two lobter tails, a baked potato, salad and Baskin Robbins ice cream with chocolate and carmel sauce - and I wonder why I gain weight here?
Let's see, how else do we mark the passage of time?
Tuesday is bazaar day. The local vendors come in and set up a bazaar where they sell locally made things. Since some of you are going to be the beneficiary of things local for Christmas, I'll keep that quiet. What I can tell you they seel, since you won't be getting any of these things, are knock-off sunglasses and watches, bootlegged DVD's - they're the ones where people take video cameras into the movie theather and record the movie, copy them and sell them. The best ones are where people get up and walk out of the theater in front of the camera. It's pretty funny. They also sell rugs - none of you are getting rugs so I can tell you that. They've also got a tailor there who makes really great suits for a really great price. I actually bought one and it turned out really nice so I'll be buying a few others.
Then there's church. We hold sacrament meeting on Sunday nights and priesthood on Thursdays. Those are usually good days with good meetings.
So there you have it, that's how I tick off the days.
As you've been reading, this first month has been marked by lots of different experiences. Some are good, some not so good. I think the best part is that it's gone by pretty fast.
We have a saying here that, "Every day's a Monday" and it certainly feels like it. I don't know how to describe it other than every day you go through that first day of the week, first day back to work, first day of forever feeling. While each day is certainly different, it still feels like a Monday.
Because every day is different, it helps to pass the time. Here are some of my little tricks. Janae sent me with my weekly medicine reminder. You know the kind, the plastic box with seven compartments to put your pills in? At home, we each have one and she puts our multitude of daily vitamins in them. Well I brought mine so every Friday I load mine up with my daily vitamin, my glucosimine with condroiton, my Vitamin E, my Naproxin, my fish oil (I hate that one), my garlic (I'm getting low and will have to have Janae send me some or order some on-line) and the myriad other little pills and vitamins I've got to put it. So when I take my pills, I can see the days dwindling down each week.
Then there's my work. I've got a schedule of where I go and when. I can't tell you the details for security reasons - you never know who's reading my entries and I don't want them to know my travel plans, but each day I have a different location and different legal officer to meet with. For instance, today I'm meeting with....Oh yeah, can't tell you.
Then there's the chow hall. Thursday night is Italian night. Thursday night last, we had spaghetti with really thin Prego spaghetti sauce - not very good, in addition to other things Italian. Friday nights are grilled steak and lobster tail - no kidding. Last night I had this big ole steak, some ribs, two lobter tails, a baked potato, salad and Baskin Robbins ice cream with chocolate and carmel sauce - and I wonder why I gain weight here?
Let's see, how else do we mark the passage of time?
Tuesday is bazaar day. The local vendors come in and set up a bazaar where they sell locally made things. Since some of you are going to be the beneficiary of things local for Christmas, I'll keep that quiet. What I can tell you they seel, since you won't be getting any of these things, are knock-off sunglasses and watches, bootlegged DVD's - they're the ones where people take video cameras into the movie theather and record the movie, copy them and sell them. The best ones are where people get up and walk out of the theater in front of the camera. It's pretty funny. They also sell rugs - none of you are getting rugs so I can tell you that. They've also got a tailor there who makes really great suits for a really great price. I actually bought one and it turned out really nice so I'll be buying a few others.
Then there's church. We hold sacrament meeting on Sunday nights and priesthood on Thursdays. Those are usually good days with good meetings.
So there you have it, that's how I tick off the days.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
A True Afghan Hero
One of the officers that I mentor and work with told me a story that if true, makes him my new hero. I actually think it is as he showed me the physical evidence of what he was telling me.
We were discussing the corruption his country is faced with and the corrupt men that are in power. He talked about the days of the Soviet occupation and how bad that was. He talked about how repressive it was; no freedoms, constant fear – not a pleasant place to be.
He talked about being imprisoned for speaking out against the system. He would have to have been in the military at the time. I didn’t ask if it was the military that imprisoned him, but it was definitely the Soviets that put him in prison.
He told me about the torture that he went through; electric shock, the beatings. He told me that one time he was on the ground when a guard stomped on his hand with his boot. He held out his fingers to show me the lasting results; crooked fingers. He had me feel one of his finger nails where you could feel a definite ridge in the nail. He said it was scar tissue left over after all these years that continued to cause the nail to feel that way.
He then smiled and said that things were much better now. Even though he talked about the corrupt system and the challenges that they’re facing, he said “since you’re here” – pointing to me any my legal NCO – “things are going to get better.”
Here was a man who has seen so much – the Soviet invasion and occupation, their overthrow by the Mujahadeem, the rise and fall of the Taliban and now us. Even though he’s seen all this, he’s still positive that something good will rise from the ashes that Afghanistan is now. If he has hope, then I guess I can too.
We were discussing the corruption his country is faced with and the corrupt men that are in power. He talked about the days of the Soviet occupation and how bad that was. He talked about how repressive it was; no freedoms, constant fear – not a pleasant place to be.
He talked about being imprisoned for speaking out against the system. He would have to have been in the military at the time. I didn’t ask if it was the military that imprisoned him, but it was definitely the Soviets that put him in prison.
He told me about the torture that he went through; electric shock, the beatings. He told me that one time he was on the ground when a guard stomped on his hand with his boot. He held out his fingers to show me the lasting results; crooked fingers. He had me feel one of his finger nails where you could feel a definite ridge in the nail. He said it was scar tissue left over after all these years that continued to cause the nail to feel that way.
He then smiled and said that things were much better now. Even though he talked about the corrupt system and the challenges that they’re facing, he said “since you’re here” – pointing to me any my legal NCO – “things are going to get better.”
Here was a man who has seen so much – the Soviet invasion and occupation, their overthrow by the Mujahadeem, the rise and fall of the Taliban and now us. Even though he’s seen all this, he’s still positive that something good will rise from the ashes that Afghanistan is now. If he has hope, then I guess I can too.
Office Supplies
Today we were sitting in my counterparts office. I’ve noticed before on his desk as well as other desks, pin cushions with straight pins in them. I always wondered what they were for but never thought to ask. Today I got my answer. They’re used as paper clips. I’m sure there are real paper clips in this country but my terp said that most people still used straight pins to clip/pin papers together. I’m surprised that there aren’t more papers with blood on them.
Computers, typewriters and copy machines are hard to come by. They’re office equipment that we jus take for granted. In fact, I bet there are not many offices left in the US that actually have typewriters. Well all my legal counterparts have to hand-write all their documents. Then if they want copies, they re-write the original again. Can you imagine having to do that? I shudder at the thought.
Computers, typewriters and copy machines are hard to come by. They’re office equipment that we jus take for granted. In fact, I bet there are not many offices left in the US that actually have typewriters. Well all my legal counterparts have to hand-write all their documents. Then if they want copies, they re-write the original again. Can you imagine having to do that? I shudder at the thought.
My friend, Joe Jennings
Two Sundays ago, September 18, 2006, Janae e-mailed me and told me that our friend and neighbor Joe Jennings had passed away. Joe had finally succumbed to the ravages of cancer. I immediately started to write a tribute to Joe but couldn’t finish it. Even now, I don’t know if I’ll be able finish it or if I should even try.
I knew that e-mail about Joe's death would come, but I was hoping that it wouldn’t come that day or any day for that matter. Now that it’s come and gone, I’ve had some time to think about Joe and what his life and influence has had on me. Reflecting on him and his life this week and especially since last night, has helped me find a solution to a problem that I’m faced with.
For those of you who knew Joe, you already know what I’m going to say. You know what kind of a man he was. He was the kind of man I hope I can be someday. He was kind and thoughtful. He was a great missionary. He was a man filled with love for his fellowman. He loved the Savior and you could feel His spirit whenever you were around Joe. I never saw him discouraged. He was an example of how to endure to the end.
When I was home on leave in August, Janae and I went over to visit him and Vicki. I’m so glad we did. What struck me more than the physical signs of the cancer was the warm reception we got when we went in and sat down. Even though I could tell he was not feeling well, he tried not to let it show. He made us feel welcome. He told me that while I was gone he would make sure my family was taken care of. Here was a man in no position to physically care for my family and yet he was offering his services. That was Joe.
Janae told me about the last time he bore his testimony. OK, I don’t know if I can get through this. I’m having to blink back the tears. How I wish I could have been there. As Bishop Ashdown said, his very presence was an example to us all of the life he lived. I just hope someone can say that about me someday. I’m still too much the natural man.
Janae told me about his funeral. Again, I wish I could have been there.
So why am I writing this now. I guess I need a little inspiration right now to keep on with my job.
In an effort to keep certain things confidential, this next part may become a little vague or even cryptic. But, last night I met with a couple of men who are in a position to bring certain other “men” to justice. These certain “men” have committed atrocities and since I don’t want to offend anyone or give up information that’s confidential, I’ll not share it with you. These “men” are also being protected by other men. It is this protection and the threats of reprisals that continue to keep them in their positions of power. It is the fear of those reprisals that nothing is being done. Discouragement doesn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling. Remember when I said that I’m working with Gadianton Robbers, well that fact was made plain last night.
And then I thought about Joe. I thought, if anyone could affect these people for good, it would be him. I thought, “If Joe were here, what would he do?” Well the answer was obvious, he would love them. He would roll up his sleeves and get to work and make a change where he could. He wouldn’t let a little thing like this get in his way. He would find a way to make a difference.
So Joe, this is my tribute to you. I will roll up my sleeves. I will love these people (or at least try to) and I will work as hard as I can to make a difference in their lives.
And if in the next 10 months or so I can bring these “men” down, so much the better. OK, that wasn’t what Joe would have said. Remember, I’m still a natural man after all.
I knew that e-mail about Joe's death would come, but I was hoping that it wouldn’t come that day or any day for that matter. Now that it’s come and gone, I’ve had some time to think about Joe and what his life and influence has had on me. Reflecting on him and his life this week and especially since last night, has helped me find a solution to a problem that I’m faced with.
For those of you who knew Joe, you already know what I’m going to say. You know what kind of a man he was. He was the kind of man I hope I can be someday. He was kind and thoughtful. He was a great missionary. He was a man filled with love for his fellowman. He loved the Savior and you could feel His spirit whenever you were around Joe. I never saw him discouraged. He was an example of how to endure to the end.
When I was home on leave in August, Janae and I went over to visit him and Vicki. I’m so glad we did. What struck me more than the physical signs of the cancer was the warm reception we got when we went in and sat down. Even though I could tell he was not feeling well, he tried not to let it show. He made us feel welcome. He told me that while I was gone he would make sure my family was taken care of. Here was a man in no position to physically care for my family and yet he was offering his services. That was Joe.
Janae told me about the last time he bore his testimony. OK, I don’t know if I can get through this. I’m having to blink back the tears. How I wish I could have been there. As Bishop Ashdown said, his very presence was an example to us all of the life he lived. I just hope someone can say that about me someday. I’m still too much the natural man.
Janae told me about his funeral. Again, I wish I could have been there.
So why am I writing this now. I guess I need a little inspiration right now to keep on with my job.
In an effort to keep certain things confidential, this next part may become a little vague or even cryptic. But, last night I met with a couple of men who are in a position to bring certain other “men” to justice. These certain “men” have committed atrocities and since I don’t want to offend anyone or give up information that’s confidential, I’ll not share it with you. These “men” are also being protected by other men. It is this protection and the threats of reprisals that continue to keep them in their positions of power. It is the fear of those reprisals that nothing is being done. Discouragement doesn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling. Remember when I said that I’m working with Gadianton Robbers, well that fact was made plain last night.
And then I thought about Joe. I thought, if anyone could affect these people for good, it would be him. I thought, “If Joe were here, what would he do?” Well the answer was obvious, he would love them. He would roll up his sleeves and get to work and make a change where he could. He wouldn’t let a little thing like this get in his way. He would find a way to make a difference.
So Joe, this is my tribute to you. I will roll up my sleeves. I will love these people (or at least try to) and I will work as hard as I can to make a difference in their lives.
And if in the next 10 months or so I can bring these “men” down, so much the better. OK, that wasn’t what Joe would have said. Remember, I’m still a natural man after all.
Kites
I’m reading a book called Kite Runner. It’s a fictional novel about a boy who grew up in Afghanistan before the Soviet invasion and how he and his father then fled to the United States. It’s written by Khaled Hosseini, an Afghan, and is pretty reflective of life in Afghanistan. I imagine it’s more autobiographical than fictional as he and his family fled Afghanistan at the time of the invasion. It’s a powerful book.
Anyway, he tells of kite flying here in Afghanistan. Kite flying in Afghanistan is a sport and not just a pleasant way to pass an afternoon. First of all, prime kite flying season is in the winter. My terp says it’s too hot to fly kites in the summer. I thought that was odd. Then I read about what they do to their string. They coat the kite string in crushed glass - it's crushed to a powder, glue and something like flour or ground oats. They then let the kite string dry. Once it’s dry, they roll it up on the spool and go out to fly kites.
But they don’t just fly them, they fight with them. The idea is to cut the kite string of an opponent and then send out your “kite runner” to catch your opponent’s kite. The last kite in the sky is the winner and if you can catch the second to last kite as well, you’re a true champion. People will actually display the kites they have caught in their home. It's also a village event. Everyone comes out to watch. They'll set up chairs on the tops of buildings to watch; drinking tea, eating, chatting and watching the kite fliers and their kite runners.
The object is to cross your kite string across another’s and then let the strings rub against each other until one string is cut. It’s against the rules to actually pull the string back and forth to cause the strings to cut, you just have to let the wind do it for you. Also, you can't run with the kite, you have to stand in one spot and let your kite do all the work.
As you can imagine, your hands get cut up pretty bad. Plus, if there are dozens and dozens of kites, these tournaments can go on for all day – in the middle of winter.
I asked my terp if that was true. He said yes and showed me the scars on his own hands/fingers from where he had been cut by glass coated string when he flew kites as a kid. Even now, that's how they fly their kits here. Oh, and they're not plastic kites. They're kites made of bamboo and very thin paper.
Think that would go over at home? I don’t think so either.
Anyway, he tells of kite flying here in Afghanistan. Kite flying in Afghanistan is a sport and not just a pleasant way to pass an afternoon. First of all, prime kite flying season is in the winter. My terp says it’s too hot to fly kites in the summer. I thought that was odd. Then I read about what they do to their string. They coat the kite string in crushed glass - it's crushed to a powder, glue and something like flour or ground oats. They then let the kite string dry. Once it’s dry, they roll it up on the spool and go out to fly kites.
But they don’t just fly them, they fight with them. The idea is to cut the kite string of an opponent and then send out your “kite runner” to catch your opponent’s kite. The last kite in the sky is the winner and if you can catch the second to last kite as well, you’re a true champion. People will actually display the kites they have caught in their home. It's also a village event. Everyone comes out to watch. They'll set up chairs on the tops of buildings to watch; drinking tea, eating, chatting and watching the kite fliers and their kite runners.
The object is to cross your kite string across another’s and then let the strings rub against each other until one string is cut. It’s against the rules to actually pull the string back and forth to cause the strings to cut, you just have to let the wind do it for you. Also, you can't run with the kite, you have to stand in one spot and let your kite do all the work.
As you can imagine, your hands get cut up pretty bad. Plus, if there are dozens and dozens of kites, these tournaments can go on for all day – in the middle of winter.
I asked my terp if that was true. He said yes and showed me the scars on his own hands/fingers from where he had been cut by glass coated string when he flew kites as a kid. Even now, that's how they fly their kits here. Oh, and they're not plastic kites. They're kites made of bamboo and very thin paper.
Think that would go over at home? I don’t think so either.
We actually have a pretty good mail system compared to others here. We get mail 6 days a week. Those that are down range get it when a convoy comes to them bringing mail. We’ve got a guy who picks up the mail every day. He then has the task of sorting all the boxes and envelopes into the various command elements here. Then from 6:00 – 7 :00 p.m., the frenzy starts. Guys will line up in line just to see if they’ve received anything from home. It’s happiness when you get a letter, joy when you get two letters and “I’m going to kill you because you got three and I didn’t get anything” when you get three. Oh, that was the guy behind me who was feeling that way when he saw me get three letters from home and he didn’t get anything.
I must say that I’ve got the best wife and family. Janae is so good about writing me. I went 4 days in a row and got something every day from her. Mixed in was a card from Donna Durfee, my mother-in-law and cards from my boys. It was so nice.
When my first and only box, so far, arrived, it was like Christmas. It was actually the second box Janae had sent but she didn’t insure or register it as she didn’t think about it and the clerk didn’t ask. I’m sure that unregistered, uninsured box is out there somewhere, the only question is where. So, if you send me a box, be sure to register it or insure it. Apparently if it’s got some type of tracking system on it, it gets here faster. I know, it doesn’t make sense, but that seems to be the way it works.
Now for the real reason for writing this – if you have a soldier here and you haven’t been sending him any mail, write him a letter right now, put it in an enevelope and send it. I know, e-mail is instantaneous and that’s great, but there’s nothing like getting a real letter that you get to hold, knowing that your wife or loved one was the last one to hold it. If it smells like your perfume, it’s even better. My friend, Steve Esplin, will sleep with those letters from his wife that smell like her. I know, I think it’s weird too. Now if it was something else that was sent that smelled like my wife, something soft and silky, black or...OK, I’ll think of something else now.
OK DeAnna, maybe I was thinking of something else (mango), but I'll never tell!!
I must say that I’ve got the best wife and family. Janae is so good about writing me. I went 4 days in a row and got something every day from her. Mixed in was a card from Donna Durfee, my mother-in-law and cards from my boys. It was so nice.
When my first and only box, so far, arrived, it was like Christmas. It was actually the second box Janae had sent but she didn’t insure or register it as she didn’t think about it and the clerk didn’t ask. I’m sure that unregistered, uninsured box is out there somewhere, the only question is where. So, if you send me a box, be sure to register it or insure it. Apparently if it’s got some type of tracking system on it, it gets here faster. I know, it doesn’t make sense, but that seems to be the way it works.
Now for the real reason for writing this – if you have a soldier here and you haven’t been sending him any mail, write him a letter right now, put it in an enevelope and send it. I know, e-mail is instantaneous and that’s great, but there’s nothing like getting a real letter that you get to hold, knowing that your wife or loved one was the last one to hold it. If it smells like your perfume, it’s even better. My friend, Steve Esplin, will sleep with those letters from his wife that smell like her. I know, I think it’s weird too. Now if it was something else that was sent that smelled like my wife, something soft and silky, black or...OK, I’ll think of something else now.
OK DeAnna, maybe I was thinking of something else (mango), but I'll never tell!!
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Just Sittin' Around...
Tonight at dinner, a few of us were just sitting around talking. That's one of the things I like most about being here, being able to sit and visit with some really great men.
Our conversation turned, as it inevitably does, to our work here. Only this time we talked about how we could compare our situation here to that of the people of the Book of Mormon. You've already heard me tell you about what it's like working with the Gadianton's so I don't want to bore you, but that was our first topic of discussion. I mentioned that I was going to skip ahead in my reading to read those chapters to try and gain some insight into what the Nephites and Lamanites did to purge them from their society. As I remember, it took the combined effort of the righteous people as well as calling upon the Lord to get the job done. That's what it's going to take here. There's a quote, and I don't have the exact wording, but it goes something like this, "for evil to prevail good men must do nothing" or something like that. I'm sure if I were to Google the saying, I'd find it.
OK, here it is, English philosopher Edmund Burke said, ‘The only thing necessary for the triumph [of evil] is for good men to do nothing." Or as another web page quotes him, "All that is necessary for evil to succeed is that good men do nothing."
Regardless of the exact quote the message is the same. Right now I'm praying that a few good men will do something. It will take those few good men as well as a lot of prayer to get rid of the cancer that plagues the Afghan government, military and society.
Merrill either read or saw on the news a piece about a church that teaches that if you follow the teachings of the Bible you will become economically rich. He related how he was reading about Alma and his mission to the Zoramites and how they were casting out the poor because they were poor. I then thought about the people who profess to believe one thing but their actions say otherwise. I thought of the people who do things in the name of religion but again, their actions are not in accordance with what their religion teaches - Islamic terrorists to be precise.
I don't mean to sound negative because that's not how I felt after our discussion. Rather, I felt a spark of renewed testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. How many times have we been taught and how many times have we read within its pages that this book was written for us. I can testify that it was. I feel like what I'm going through right now have direct parallels to what the people of the Book of Mormon went through. As I read it this year, I hope that I can draw out the lessons that I need to learn to be the most effective that I can be.
I never would have thought that being here would help increase my testimony of the Book of Mormon, but it has and I look forward to a continued renewal of that testimony.
Our conversation turned, as it inevitably does, to our work here. Only this time we talked about how we could compare our situation here to that of the people of the Book of Mormon. You've already heard me tell you about what it's like working with the Gadianton's so I don't want to bore you, but that was our first topic of discussion. I mentioned that I was going to skip ahead in my reading to read those chapters to try and gain some insight into what the Nephites and Lamanites did to purge them from their society. As I remember, it took the combined effort of the righteous people as well as calling upon the Lord to get the job done. That's what it's going to take here. There's a quote, and I don't have the exact wording, but it goes something like this, "for evil to prevail good men must do nothing" or something like that. I'm sure if I were to Google the saying, I'd find it.
OK, here it is, English philosopher Edmund Burke said, ‘The only thing necessary for the triumph [of evil] is for good men to do nothing." Or as another web page quotes him, "All that is necessary for evil to succeed is that good men do nothing."
Regardless of the exact quote the message is the same. Right now I'm praying that a few good men will do something. It will take those few good men as well as a lot of prayer to get rid of the cancer that plagues the Afghan government, military and society.
Merrill either read or saw on the news a piece about a church that teaches that if you follow the teachings of the Bible you will become economically rich. He related how he was reading about Alma and his mission to the Zoramites and how they were casting out the poor because they were poor. I then thought about the people who profess to believe one thing but their actions say otherwise. I thought of the people who do things in the name of religion but again, their actions are not in accordance with what their religion teaches - Islamic terrorists to be precise.
I don't mean to sound negative because that's not how I felt after our discussion. Rather, I felt a spark of renewed testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. How many times have we been taught and how many times have we read within its pages that this book was written for us. I can testify that it was. I feel like what I'm going through right now have direct parallels to what the people of the Book of Mormon went through. As I read it this year, I hope that I can draw out the lessons that I need to learn to be the most effective that I can be.
I never would have thought that being here would help increase my testimony of the Book of Mormon, but it has and I look forward to a continued renewal of that testimony.
Luke
My second son is named Luke. (Darth Vader voice and breathing: hhhhoooo, hhhaaaaa, Luke, I am your father. Search your feelings. You know this to be true.) OK, he hates that.
Anyway, it was his birthday last month and while I sent him a card, I didn’t do anything else. So this is my tribute to my tallest son.
Seth is really good about not being as tall as Luke but I think somewhere down deep, it bothers him maybe just a little. I know it bothers me!! When I was home on leave in August, he was just about ready to be taller than me. He’ll tell you that he was taller, OK, maybe he was. He’s only 15 for cryin’ out loud!! His goal is to be taller than my youngest brother who is 6’4”. He just might make it.
Luke is a sophomore this year. He was telling me the other day that a girl said “Hello Luke” in the hall and he had no idea who she was. I told him that it was because she thought he was cute and was checking him out. He did not agree. Of course he will be angry with me for even talking about him much less telling you that a girl was checking him out.
So in an effort to make him even more mad at me, I’ll tell you a little secret. Now don’t tell anyone but he LOVES, LOVES, LOVES it when I kiss him on the cheek. Well maybe he doesn’t LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it, in fact he’ll tell you he HATES, HATES, HATES it but it’s a habit left over from when he was little.
Here’s my favorite picture of him. I think it’s Janae’s favorite picture as well. I love the mischievous look in his eye. Again, he’s going to hate me for posting this picture, but since I’m 1000’s of miles away, he can’t do a whole lot about it. Besides, I get to write about what I want and who I want so he’ll just have to suffer.
I don’t want him to hate me too much, but let me extol the virtues of my second son; he’s a great home teacher, just ask the Potters, he’s kind and thoughtful even though he’ll do everything he can to convince you otherwise, he’s got a great memory, just try playing those memory games with him, he’s always concerned about others, he’s extremely generous – the Reedy’s were having a yard sale when we first moved into the neighborhood, Luke went over and got us all presents. I still have the red tie and gavel (
Let me just say that Luke is a great young man and we love having him for a son.
(Darth Vader voice, breathing and music) Luke, I am your father and am darned proud of that fact!!
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