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Time to once again open my life up a little in order to share the plethora of wealth I'm about to absorb. I'm going to be back in Iraq through September, so hop on board and check back every couple of days, I'll do my best to update as much as possible. Questions? dtate38@cox.net And check out the site I'm working with: http://www.billroggio.com Support independent journalism!
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Clearly, getting to Shindand has become a royal pain in the ass and now an obsession. Why? Couple reasons: I need to find my body armor. I have learned that an Afghan interpreter found my vest on the tarmac at Shindand and has since pressed it into service. My goal will be to find this terp and rescue my jacket so I don't get charged or something by my boss. Second, I have at least three good stories I can get out of the trip and I think it's worth it to go.
The downfall is that we have live 9-11 coverage from Kabul during the American morning TV programs Saturday (mind you, it will be available, but I don't have a list of clients yet). The guys normally handle it with three, so I've assigned four with one at the house for spot news or feeds.
So why does this matter? Because I've been trying to get to Shindand for more than 10 days. I've had planes break, flights cancelled, been recalled by the boss literally walking in the gate at Bagram and then the latest string of oddities since...
Once again I set up with Captain Ben Powell to come up to Kabul and try to wait out a flight. Flights here are sporadic at best and often unannounced. The goal is to hop on a resupply flight.
Like usual, Ahmet almost kills me taking me the 50 or so kilometers to Bagram, down fairly good road that is plenty safe. The whole way, all I can think is "Burger King". That's right, Bagram is home to Afghanistan's first Burger King and I'm ready to have it my way. Up at the ggate, Sgtt. Holt picks me up and takes me to the hoochh where I unload my gear before heading up the road to the Burger King.
At the PX, soldiers and Marines, mostly American, but Germans, French, Poles and a spattering of others are around. Many enjoying some BK... uuummmm..... "I'll take a Royal with cheese." Now for some reason I thought this was some huge burger, fit and ready for consumption. Turns out it's chicken. No problem. Had 'em, like 'em. So I ate it.
Now imagine my suprise, after being sick six times my first two months and not getting sick in the past three, that I would wake up with the double-barrrel ballistic sickness. All I can say is that I don't have to write anymore to remember this night.
The next day I'm told the flight this morning was full and the one the next morning is a special reserve with llittle chance of getting on. That, to their knowledge, was the last scheduled flight for a while. Good news: There's one scheduled for the mornning back in Kabul. That means another drive for Ahmet for nothing. This would make three and several to KIA (Kabul International Airport)
BoooOOOMM! We are under a rocket attack. At least three explosions, so gotta roll!
The downfall is that we have live 9-11 coverage from Kabul during the American morning TV programs Saturday (mind you, it will be available, but I don't have a list of clients yet). The guys normally handle it with three, so I've assigned four with one at the house for spot news or feeds.
So why does this matter? Because I've been trying to get to Shindand for more than 10 days. I've had planes break, flights cancelled, been recalled by the boss literally walking in the gate at Bagram and then the latest string of oddities since...
Once again I set up with Captain Ben Powell to come up to Kabul and try to wait out a flight. Flights here are sporadic at best and often unannounced. The goal is to hop on a resupply flight.
Like usual, Ahmet almost kills me taking me the 50 or so kilometers to Bagram, down fairly good road that is plenty safe. The whole way, all I can think is "Burger King". That's right, Bagram is home to Afghanistan's first Burger King and I'm ready to have it my way. Up at the ggate, Sgtt. Holt picks me up and takes me to the hoochh where I unload my gear before heading up the road to the Burger King.
At the PX, soldiers and Marines, mostly American, but Germans, French, Poles and a spattering of others are around. Many enjoying some BK... uuummmm..... "I'll take a Royal with cheese." Now for some reason I thought this was some huge burger, fit and ready for consumption. Turns out it's chicken. No problem. Had 'em, like 'em. So I ate it.
Now imagine my suprise, after being sick six times my first two months and not getting sick in the past three, that I would wake up with the double-barrrel ballistic sickness. All I can say is that I don't have to write anymore to remember this night.
The next day I'm told the flight this morning was full and the one the next morning is a special reserve with llittle chance of getting on. That, to their knowledge, was the last scheduled flight for a while. Good news: There's one scheduled for the mornning back in Kabul. That means another drive for Ahmet for nothing. This would make three and several to KIA (Kabul International Airport)
BoooOOOMM! We are under a rocket attack. At least three explosions, so gotta roll!
