I ate a hog dog. I spent a substantial portion of the week wallowing in self pity. I set up filters in my inbox to prevent messages from ever reaching me. I stayed up well past midnight and skipped my morning runs.
It's been a week of acting, well, absolutely nothing like myself, and to be perfectly honest it's been downright terrifying. When I was preparing for this deployment, everyone seemed to say exactly the same thing...you're going to learn more about yourself being in Afghanistan than you would ever learn anywhere else. In fact, by everyone's estimation, I was about to embark on some momentous journey into self discovery.
Well as it turns out, that journey starts out great and then gets just a bit turbulent after about the forth week. By week four, it was very obvious that the most unsafe thing about being here is, well, my fellow Airmen, Soldiers, Sailors and Marines who sometimes (okay, often) forget that I'm not a piece of meat, but a fellow American serving her country during a time of war. As some type of frame of reference, this place is at least 90% male, so you can imagine the unwelcome raised eyebrows an actual girl gets around here.
Also by week four, the walls of my 8' x 10' cage started closing in on me. I found myself fixated to the computer, mesmerized by Gmail, and using all available willpower to try to cause someone I love to send me an email telling me they are thinking about me. Yes, I know. There are people thinking about me and all of the rest of us out here, but it's unbelievable what an emotional high any one of us gets when we receive an email. Or a letter. Or really just any gesture. And you'd also be surprised to hear how infrequently that happens. To any of us. Or how it feels to me to be far away from home supporting a war that I'm not sure I believe in and praying to someone that I'm also not sure I believe in to bring me home safely at the end.
Part of our adventure this week was my first helicopter ride to another base in Afghanistan to do some business. Looking at Kabul from above (even on a day that wasn't perfectly clear) was the beginning of regaining my perspective.
As we were leaving the other base, we were sitting on the ramp, a bus full of people awaiting our turn to board the C-130 that would fly us back to Kabul. All traffic on the ramp was suddenly halted as three vehicles containing the flag draped cases of fallen American Security Forces Airmen passed in front of our bus. On my left was an Air Force Major who had arrived in Afghanistan earlier that morning, with silent tears streaming down his cheeks. On my right was a Security Forces Airman from my team, who placed his right hand solemnly on his heart and watched as a line of his fellow Security Forces Airmen slowly gave a final salute to the three flag-draped cases as they drove past.
Yes, I am in a war zone. And some days that is both absurdly apparent and incredibly heartbreaking. And any morning that I get to wake up and start it all over again is one day closer to being home where it is significantly safer, and where I can fall asleep in the arms of a wonderful husband who loves me. Others will never be so lucky. That end goal right there is incentive enough to keep things in perspective on the days that seem insurmountable.
The Army summarizes our ability to fight in this, my all time favorite wartime quotation:
"Soldiers don't fight because they hate what's in front of them. They fight because they love what's behind them."
Yes, I understand that Americans support the troops in Afghanistan, even if they don't support the war itself. And if you fall into the category of supporting the men and women who wake up every morning to help shape the future for Afghanistan, take a few minutes to tell us how much you care. That small gesture alone means the world to us out here.
It's been a week of acting, well, absolutely nothing like myself, and to be perfectly honest it's been downright terrifying. When I was preparing for this deployment, everyone seemed to say exactly the same thing...you're going to learn more about yourself being in Afghanistan than you would ever learn anywhere else. In fact, by everyone's estimation, I was about to embark on some momentous journey into self discovery.
Well as it turns out, that journey starts out great and then gets just a bit turbulent after about the forth week. By week four, it was very obvious that the most unsafe thing about being here is, well, my fellow Airmen, Soldiers, Sailors and Marines who sometimes (okay, often) forget that I'm not a piece of meat, but a fellow American serving her country during a time of war. As some type of frame of reference, this place is at least 90% male, so you can imagine the unwelcome raised eyebrows an actual girl gets around here.
Also by week four, the walls of my 8' x 10' cage started closing in on me. I found myself fixated to the computer, mesmerized by Gmail, and using all available willpower to try to cause someone I love to send me an email telling me they are thinking about me. Yes, I know. There are people thinking about me and all of the rest of us out here, but it's unbelievable what an emotional high any one of us gets when we receive an email. Or a letter. Or really just any gesture. And you'd also be surprised to hear how infrequently that happens. To any of us. Or how it feels to me to be far away from home supporting a war that I'm not sure I believe in and praying to someone that I'm also not sure I believe in to bring me home safely at the end.
As we were leaving the other base, we were sitting on the ramp, a bus full of people awaiting our turn to board the C-130 that would fly us back to Kabul. All traffic on the ramp was suddenly halted as three vehicles containing the flag draped cases of fallen American Security Forces Airmen passed in front of our bus. On my left was an Air Force Major who had arrived in Afghanistan earlier that morning, with silent tears streaming down his cheeks. On my right was a Security Forces Airman from my team, who placed his right hand solemnly on his heart and watched as a line of his fellow Security Forces Airmen slowly gave a final salute to the three flag-draped cases as they drove past.
Yes, I am in a war zone. And some days that is both absurdly apparent and incredibly heartbreaking. And any morning that I get to wake up and start it all over again is one day closer to being home where it is significantly safer, and where I can fall asleep in the arms of a wonderful husband who loves me. Others will never be so lucky. That end goal right there is incentive enough to keep things in perspective on the days that seem insurmountable.
The Army summarizes our ability to fight in this, my all time favorite wartime quotation:
"Soldiers don't fight because they hate what's in front of them. They fight because they love what's behind them."
Yes, I understand that Americans support the troops in Afghanistan, even if they don't support the war itself. And if you fall into the category of supporting the men and women who wake up every morning to help shape the future for Afghanistan, take a few minutes to tell us how much you care. That small gesture alone means the world to us out here.
** if you would like to see more pictures from our aerial adventure, go to http://www.flickr.com/photos/roblisameehan/sets/72157627231620081/ **
I believe I've mentioned it before but you're my hero. And now you've guilted me into commenting, see how you are?
ReplyDeleteI love you, keep up the good work and come home safe.