As much as I bitch about these dudes at the beginning of this
ordeal, after day 3 we hung out constantly and I actually like the
fuckers. Don’t tell them that. They really have made these past two weeks
entertaining and enjoyable. Well, as enjoyable
as it could be under the circumstances.
If any of you strange, filthy, beautiful bastards are reading this, I
miss you guys already.
As it currently
stands, I hardly update this when I’m stateside. Believe it or not (probably not) I am either
too distracted, busy, or lazy while at home unless there is a specific request
for a topic of discussion (re: Video games).
So, now that I
find myself, yet again, deep in the beautifully interesting mountains of
Afghanistan, what better way to mark the occasion by semi-regular updates. You know, as worthwhile events and internet
access allow.
Having made that
statement, it should be noted that the entirety of this entry is being transcribed
from notebook paper, as I have and will not have internet access at time of
writing. Notes are being taken in real
time, so the (I’m assuming) alternating nature of misery and hilarity that will
no doubt ensue is chronological and unfiltered.
First, a quick
rundown of how I got to where I’m at right now:
- Over a year ago, I applied to the
Afghan Air Force MD-530 Instructor program
-Request accepted
-Classes, courses, study study study
-Pack up house, ready to leave
-10 days prior to leaving, the program is
cancelled.
-2 weeks of begging the Pentagon and
pissing off my chain of command for another assignment.
-Accepted to a new program.
-Classes, courses, study study study
-House already packed, live in state of
perpetual readiness to leave for 7 months
-Losing all of my hard-earned gains
post-hernia, due to classes, courses, relatively poor nutrition, and lack of a
consistent gym schedule.
-Working
-A slow and steady increase of good mood
and general frivolity as I move inexorably away from Ft. Rucker.
After all that, I
finally made it to Kuwait where, following a protracted series of failures and
fuckups by the National Guards in charge, I was left Kuwaiting for over a week.
 |
| Kuwait was as not fun 15 years ago when I first arrive with THIS gaping asshole. But that's a story for another time. Also, I'm disappointed in you for this role, Tom Hanks. |
Yesterday, Day Zero, I arrived in country
where we were told to expect a 14-day quarantine due to COVID-19. As we (myself and Joe, my deployment husband)
had no one to report to, and because the quarantine was new and unplanned, we
defaulted to our natural state of waiting.
That waiting turned into 24 hours in the passenger terminal discovering
new and uncomfortable ways to sleep for 15 minutes at a time.
 |
| Who am I kidding, I can't stay mad at Tom. |
Day 1: #itcouldbeworse
We’ve been treated
like lepers all day. Not that I’m discounting
the risk posed by COVID-19, but service members are healthy adults. While the risk of contraction is high, the
overall health risk to the particular demographic is practically nonexistent. Yes, I understand that immuno-compromised,
young, and elderly individuals are at serious risk, but those are not the
people we’ll be working with for the next year.
Anyway, it sucks.
So, 14-day
quarantine confirmed. We’ve been moved
to an area roughly 50’ x 80’. Within
that area are several 20’ x 20’ x 7’ containers with 8 bunk beds each. Fortunately, ours only has 8 total people (us
included), so not terrible. I can throw
my 135lbs of gear on the empty bunk below (and Joe can throw his 235lbs on his
empty bunk. We both got weighed before
getting on the plane). We can see light
through the wall seams, but that just means airflow, right?
 |
| Mood lighting comes standard. |
Check that, just
watched someone walk by. I can see
through the wall seams. Neat.
The AC is
reliable, and someone is bringing us food soon.
All in all, not too shabby. 13
days to go?
 |
| Can Do. |
…3 hours later…
They just moved us
into adjacent container in preparation for more incoming soldiers. There are now 16 of us in here. Still no food. The random gallon can of beans and unopened
can of RipIt outside feels like some kind of test. So, this is fun.
 |
| Oh, you thought I was kidding. |
Day 2: #itsworse
 |
| One erection and it's over. |
Imagine for a
moment the overwhelming stench of feet and noise of people that clearly need a
sleep study and a CPAP [aggravation or G].
Add onto that the three feet of space between the what can only
generously be described as a bed and the ceiling [distance or D]. Factor in a combat zone (though thankfully
quiet), some mild PTSD, and waking up to nondescript chatter outside at 0500
[additional angular momentum as I spring out of bed or S] and you get:
F=m^G x a^S/
The Force of my dome piece smashing in to the lowfucking ceiling equals the mass of my
But I’m awake now, so there’s that.
So are the 60 other people here. To recap, that’s: 5 toilets; 2 laundry
machines (the nifty European types that wash and dry) with untested
functionality, though 3 are broken so there’s not a lot of hope for the
remaining 2; and 5 showers; for use by 60 soldiers.
 |
| Sponsored by Berg. "We haven't inspected these things since their manufacture 7 years ago." And Raid, Shadow Legends. |
What I believe was going to be a humorous romp through two weeks of quarantine, has officially devolved into horseshit.
Noon: Apparently, of the 60 or so troops here with us,
almost all of them are some form of Private or another. And they are all fucking disgusting. Who just leaves multiple toilets clogged and
trash everywhere? Joe and I had words
with some non-commissioned officers about making sure the kids are being
adults. The stank coming out of their
berthing containers is ungodly.
1400: Someone drank the RipIt and left the can under a
bench. And, as I’m sitting here writing
this, I just noticed a half-eaten apple from this morning and a bunch of
garbage lying around. Laying
around? Damn, it’s been so long since
I’ve written anything meaningful that I’ve forgotten important grammar rules. Oh well, if it’s still there tomorrow, guess
who’ll be participating in a Chief mandated area beautification project?
1600: The laundry machines do not work.
2130: The kid sleeping in the bunk under mine is
displaying symptoms, I referred him to the medic.
2300: Whelp, after running a fever of 103.4, he’s been
moved into isolation and we scrubbed the absolute bejesus out of our berthing
container. Also, just found out that we
are located next to an old Soviet Chromate-6 graveyard, and that dust currently
jamming our AC units definitely contains some of that fun. Bed time, I guess?
Day 3: #legday
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| No idea where that may have stemmed from. |
0630 work call.
I attempted to remain calm, saying things like “I woke up this morning
to a clogged toilet full of brown water, so thank you for that. There are nasty socks and shorts in the
shower room, so thank you for that.”
Apparently, however, my trigger is apples, because it escalated quickly,
“There is a FUCKING HALF EATEN APPLE BEHIND THE FUCKING CONTAINER FROM
YESTERDAY’S FUCKING LUNCH!”
They were receptive, fortunately and went on their
merry way to clean, disinfect, and beautify the area. Joe and I grabbed a couple of (GI) Joes, and
carried several hundred pounds of sandbags to build an ersatz gym, located
adjacent to scenic shit’s creek.
 |
| #quarantinegains |
 |
| Oh, you thought I was kidding? #lungdisease |
0900: Spent the rest of the morning answering questions and assuaging fears about deployments for the new guys. Should probably study, but still sleepy from last night’s frenetic sanitation activities. Nap? Nap.
0925: Nap attempt interrupted by temperature
check. I went last; everyone else got
checked rectally, I don’t know why I was the only one that got checked orally.
1100: Thinking about changing my legal name to Big Bad
Voodoo Daddy Calise.
1155: Lunch just arrived along with an offer for
myself and (not-GI) Joe of private berthing.
Rejected on account of newly built gym and consideration of boredom in a
vacuum, not altruism.
 |
| Seriously reconsidering the offer. And every life decision. |
1300: One-ply toilet paper is an abomination before
the Gods. Pray and make appropriate
sacrifices for my rectum, even if you hardly knew ‘em.
1445: First workout in country complete. Legs!
Jumping! Squats! Sprints!
Lunges! #amIdying
#whydomylungshurt #ohgodseverythingisfuzzy #ahweare3000feetabovesealevel
#alsodesert #alsocorona
1500: The view from Camp COVID-19 is beautiful and classified, so... this is about the same picture:
 |
| Not even kidding. |
Love this. Shades of commendable writing ability coupled with Tucker Max. I achieved some form of acknowledgement on all accounts- aside from not leaving the Private berthing for Shangri-La. #shenanigans
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