Battlefield Tourist

6:00 am. I always get up at 6:00 am. I don't have a watch, I don't have a cell phone, I don't have an alarm clock, but everyday, I wake at 6:00 am. Usually I get up and get online and catch up on the world. If I'm lucky, Heidi finds a few minutes to chat with me, but usually I'm hanging out in nfl.com or something.
Afterall, I need a break from my crew sometime. They often act like kids and need to be treated with kid gloves at times. The communication issue continues to cause misunderstandings, but overall it gets worked out. It's just sometimes, starting at 6:00 am every morning, I need some time. Once I get the day planned and the news read, I kick out a hundred pushups in five sets, drink some green tea and head off to some press conference. Today, though, it's a step closer to Kandahar as we take off for Bagram Air Field.
Last night, I threw down half and we had a "chicken party". Very simple: Rugs and blankets on the front lawn where you sit with your shoes off while Qurbon serves us freshly killed and cooked chicken. Best eating time in Afghanistan and we try to have them on special occasions so we can invite friends. Of course, I have none, so I was surrounded by Turks. Pleasantly, some spoke english and the night was fine. I ended up hitting the sack in the middle of the Besktas match (Turkish football) in a somber mood.
It was a great night of sleep and a good day off to cap off a long week. Three days straight I spent at KMTC (Kabul Military Training Center). The first day I got there, I was going to take some live fire video of the recruits training when all of a sudden, my PAO's came up and said to each other, "Should we tell him." Didn't sound good for sure. Turns out that the plans may be changing for the day. Standing to the right are around 800 new soldiers in the Afghan National Army. Commmonly, up to 20% (admitted, but probably more) take off on an unofficial leave so they can get their money to their famalies. Being so close to election time, the Minister of Defense decides not to pay these guys so they can't leave. Best part is, he wants the Americans to tell the soldiers what's going on. The Americans don't agree with that assessement, but do agree to send a Colonel to co-address the men.
As the soldiers are being marched in for a "suprise announcement" coalition troops from the US, Romania and Afghanistan are getting ready for a riot. Knowing what's going on, I feel a bit nervous. Actually one of the more nervous times I have felt in Afghanistan. The whole time I am documenting it as if there will be a riot and I want to get the full story. Unfortunately, I am having a rookie day and am conserving the only two partially charged batteries in my bag. Like I need that worry.
So there I sit on the steps listening and watching TIME's Bob Nickelsberg take pictures, ocassionally getting my own shots. To my lefty 5 meters, is 800 ANA, many of whom I expect to riot at any minute. To my right are eight guys that are giving the bad news. Not having a translator, it was kind of like walkingin a minefield or playing with a "Jack in the Box", I had no idea when the punchline was coming.
Forty minutes later, after one soldier fainted, the punchline never came. A pep talk about God and country and how the army will take care of you never produced the truth: That they weren't getting paid and that they were being deployed in two days to Kandahar.

The next day there were some small protests and more than 200 had disapeared into the night. I came back to do more live fire, which turned out to be very cool. I got to take some shots of mortar and machine gun practice. Also got to spend a clip of 5.56 with an M-4 equiped with "redsight" (looking through the scope you see a red dot. That is where the bullet hits.).
So overall, I was getting some good "boot camp" video for my documentary, plus following a potentially explosive situation that I was now capturing in chapters. The next day would be the true test, when they try putting these guys on the bus for Kandahar.

The following day, Ahmet had taken the car key with him as he went to Ghazni, leaving us to figure out a way to get it back. He hadn't gotten too far out of town before he realized it, so the problem was as dire as it could have been. At this point, though, I was late and it was the end of the story I'd been shooting for three days. A quiick call to Captain Powell informed me that there was some minor problems, but no violence. He also said the busses were leaving at 1030. It was now 0930 and I was 15 miles away.
I describe driving in Kabul as a two way go-cart track with people, bikes and herds of goats on it. The only rule is to look out for yourself. Usually this is a bad thing, but being a former new photographer, it was easy. A little harrowing, but easy. On the way I passed troops from Norway, Italy, Germany, Finland and Spain. Troops seem to be everywhere. Hope that'ss a good thing.
I make it to KMTC and by now am recognizable enough to get very little scrutiny, and I make my way inside to the parade grounds where, to my surprise, I see hundreds of men getting ready to deploy. At the front iis a guy with a loudspeker, sounds like he's telling jokes through a song. The men, most sitting, are laughing and in good spirits. Every few minutes
a group would peel off, run to their large, bulky, heavy bags and headed off toward a "jingle truck" where they would throw their stuff on top the heap. They were then loaded up on tour buses, and sent to Kandahr.
Crazy, men who risk everything for $70 a month, willfully, even cheerfully toward the fight without being paid... just astounds me. Reminds me of what I imagine our minutemen were like.

Back to this morning... chatted with Heidi, answered a couple of emails and just reflected about those things that are important. Been doing that a lot lately. Guess this country can make you think. I figure we'll make it to Bagram tonight and it will take 1-3 days to get to Kandahar, depending on the flights. Hopefully, we'll be up and running by Monday.