Sitting here, thinking of what to write, it came to me suddenly that most of you don't really know what Afghanistan is like (and God willing, never will). I think I can help you get an idea, though.
However, here where I'm at, in southern Helmand Province, the effect is not the wonderful magic that one feels coming from forested mountains and wide rivers; this is a more terrible, miserable magic; djinn sorcery at its blackest. Even without the Taliban and drugrunners burying 100 pound home-made explosive death-traps in the roads and footpaths, the soldiers, sailors, and Marines who serve combat tours in Helmand province have a myriad of other opposing factors to face in order to make it day-to-day
Normal deployment woes such as separation from loved ones and no time off (7 to 14 months of pure stress, constant, 24/7, no weekends,lol) notwithstanding, we who serve here have a myriad of different difficulties to deal with.
Many are not direct obstacles by themselves, but together in a package they serve to lower morale, make life miserable, and grind away at one's motivation with every hour that passes
Factor these into the daily equation: being in a camp that you can walk the circumference of in less than four minutes, and you have a jail - no change of scenery. The food comes twice a day, sometimes once, and is in very small amounts - no seconds allowed.
The water, on lucky occasion, is lukewarm, if you drink it at night. However, during the day it reaches 85 to 90 degrees, and it becomes miserable to drink. Bathing is rationed, once per week if you're lucky, due to water rationing.
The generators that would be used to run AC in at least a couple of tents suddenly show their age, and stand no chance against the driving dust and sand that sweeps across the camp, and they soon die, leaving you victim to the 120 + degree heat of the "Dasht" (afghan word for Desert).
As a result, sleeping becomes a desperate attempt to pass out before the temperature reaches 105 and heads to 120 degrees - after that, you're pouring too much sweat to sleep, as it drips in your eyes and you have to wipe it out.
Work is done at night if you're not patrolling, as lack of AC means much of your equipment will overheat and burn itself out (including laptops, radios, etc.) without some sort of coolant, so sleeping moves to the daylight hours, in shifts.
Still smiling in spite of the misery…That’s my boy!
If you get to sleep by 6:30 am, it will be around 85-90 degrees in the tent, which is manageable. However, by noon, the temperature can easily have risen to 115 to 125 in the tent, and your body forces itself out of slumber, and you awake covered in sweat, dust, and flies.
I tried to walk from my sleep tent to my work tent (20 feet) in bare feet and have blisters on both soles – that's the level of heat we deal with here.
We pass time listlessly when work is slow, trying to move around as little as is possible, sitting in the shade, attempting to keep our bodies cooled down. The only movement you're likely to hear is the slap of a Marine trying to off a pesky fly, gnat, or mosquito as it lands on his head, arms, legs, nose, or eyelid, trying to feed off the salt-laden sweat.
By early evening, the bugs have arrived in full force, coming from the nearby canal in the village outside camp to feed on trash and sweaty bodies. The slapping and swatting increases in volume until finally the whole camp resembles a troop of medieval monks performing self-flagellation for their sins. When in camp, you carry a fly swatter around as much as your weapon itself.
Sand storms and dust devils roam the desert at random, covering every exposed surface of anything, including us, in a thick,suffocating film of dust. Waking up always means blowing your nose to remove the dirt clods that have accumulated in your nostrils, making it nearly impossible to breathe freely. My pillow is so stiff with sweat that the dust adheres to it like glue, making it a stinking, nasty head-rest that must constantly be turned over to find a dry side.
This is our life.
We would like to come home soon, but in spite of all, we are US Servicemen and women with the pride that comes with that, and we will complete our time, do our jobs, to the best of our ability, until it's time to go home. I love all y'all! Corporal(Cpl) Matt Rodgers, USMC
Yes…my heart aches reading this…how I wish I could spare him and his friends some of this misery..or do something to help. How can we help you ask? Well..you already did. You left so many sweet heartfelt comments. I printed them all and sent them to Matthew. I don’t think he has them yet..but he will get them soon.
We are, after all Americans, and this is part of who we are as a country and what we do.Enjoy your tea of course…but let’s do just a little more today… :o) You are such wonderful women and I so appreciate your generous hearts!
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