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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!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Gearing Up August 18, 2007 @ 1:11 pm · Filed under Infrequent Posts ·
The gear needed to be an embedded journalist can get quite expensive. There’s two ways of doing it: The “right way” and “the best I can”. Considering the short time frame given to prepare for this, I have to go with, “the best I can” get my hands on.
For video camera, I’m relying on my trusty old Panasonic DVX-100. This camera is a little old (more than three years) and has been through hell and back, but it still works well, so that’s the way I’m going. Just got word that Roggio will be bringing a lesser quality camera, which will work great as a back up as well as provide me the ability for nightvision. If I wanted “to do it right”, I would be purchasing the HD version of the DVX-100, setting me back around $5,000. For nightvision, I would need a starscope made just for this camera, running another $6,000.
To Do It Right: $11,000 The Best I Can: $0
A good still camera is always in my sights. The Cannon EOS with attatchements and a couple standard lenses would run about $4,000. However, since I am primarily a video shooter, I only need a good “point-and-shoot” camera, deciding on the 7.1 MP Sony CyberShot. Including memory card: $270.
Laptop - I tend to use Apple in this situation. Have a nice 17″ PowerBook ($1,400), but the monitor was broke in Afghanistan and I have been unable to replace it. I may have to go without, this time because I can’t afford another PowerBook. Why PowerBook? Because it’s the easiest to use with my editing software, Final Cut Pro. With this setup, I can literaly edit from the bottom of a foxhole, if need be. Since Apple is outta my budget, I am considering a standard PC laptop. Cost: $700.
Gear - Most my survival gear needs to be replaced. Just bought: 5 UnderArmor T’s, 5 UnderArmour boxer briefs, dual season compact sleeping bag and sleeping pad, plus a CamelBak water system built into a backpack. New boots. Altogether: $300.
Body Armor - Can’t go cheap here. Went with Intercepter Body Armor which includes collar and groin protector. Added SAPI plates to front and back as well as pockets and plates for the sides (Level IV). Also added the shoulder attatchements. With this setup, I bought the police/special forces helmet with low cut on the back of the head for extra shooting room in the prone position (Level III-A). I also purchase ballistic googles built to go over my regulat eyeglasses. Total cost: $2,350
Plane Ticket - Need round-trip to Kuwait (military hop to Baghdad). Total cost: $1,600
Salary - Since this is an unpaid leave from my job, I figure I need to provide $500 p/week to barely cover our minimum domestic bills. Total cost: $1,500
On Hand Cash - $1000 (includes hotels and whatever else you never plan for).
Insurance - Going to a warzone changes everything. The insurance (including Life Insurance) you have through work, doesn’t work in a place like Iraq. You need special insurance that would most likely cost upward of $3,000.
Pretty expensive hobby, eh?
Time Flies When…August 15, 2007 @ 11:22 pm · Filed under Infrequent Posts
Bill really didn’t give me much time to make this happen. That’s why I really have Media General to thank. Fortunately for me, we have two new hires starting the same time I needed leave. I also have the support of all my supervisors; from immediate boss to General Manager. Now I just needed to hear from Richmond.
After about a week, I still hadn’t heard anything and I was starting to sweat. I realize in the corporate world that a week really isn’t that long, but when you only have a month to go before it’s showtime, everyday counts. That’s why I have to give it to my boss, Warren, and Media General. The big boys put the decision in my station’s hands… which had already been leaning toward letting me go. It all comes at a price, though. The company is drawing up an agreement that pretty much seperates me from Media General: No insurance, no life insurance, no nothing, except a job waiting when I get back. Understandable considering where I’m going. Regular insurance is useless in places like Iraq anyway. When you do these types of jobs, special conflict insurance is purchased, usually through Lloyd’s of London. It covers life insurance and maiming insurance. It provides for your hospitalization and rehab in the event you get injured, etc… The cost is in the thousands, as you can imagine. Fortunately, I am on my wife’s domestic insurance and am being sponsored the conflict insurance, so it all works out.
At this point, I have my work giving me an unpaid leave, I’ve got my plane and insurance covered and I’ve convinced my wife and family that this is the thing to do… even though I have a brand new baby. I still need some gear, including body armor (which I priced at $2,500 today), but it’s getting there. Also need to raise some money to cover my “unpaid leave”. I’m meeting with a potential supporter tommorow, so hopefully I can offset some of these remaining costs.
Permalink Comments
Gettin’ ThereAugust 15, 2007 @ 12:17 am · Filed under Infrequent Posts · Edit
I get asked a lot about what I do. Mostly because it’s a little off-kilter, as traditional jobs go. Granted, I’ve been back in a solid (minimum 40 hours p/week) job since the summer of ‘05 , but that doesn’t mean I’m not on the lookout for something Or, at the least working on my own documentaries. Since returning to the local NBC-affiliate, I’ve been torn, for various reasons, as to my future in local television news. Not suprisingly, it’s still undecided as to what direction I’ll take. Truth is though, I’m nearly 40 and starting to stress out a bit. Afterall, the independent dream I set off to find several years ago has still yet to be realized.
Spring forward to August 2005 where I run across the work of Bill Roggio. I’d heard of him before and quickly learned that he was planning a trip to Iraq for a ground level assessement of the surge. I obviously had no clue, within days of contacting him, he’d be interested in asking me along. What a chance. The pitch was simple: You’re a good writer, I’m a good videojournalist… so let’s team up and put out a documentary. He seemed to like the idea, at least good enough to ask me along. Unfortunately, I work for a large corporation, Media General, and such a short notice trip would be all but impossible. Not to mention the fact that by beautiful daughter, Davin, was barely 5 weeks old. I mean seriously, I hadn’t been downrange in over two years, just had a kid, have a corporate job and at the same time, may have finally gotten the break I’d been working on for years.
We’re still not there yet. I guess until I’m on the ground in Kuwait… I’m not on the ground in Kuwait. Before then, however, I can only imagine will be crazy times. Afterall, the invitation to go the the world’s most dangerous city came at a time that would leave me all of four weeks to prepare for. Don’t think for a second that it’s as easy as getting on a plane. Being an independent is a weird beast. It’s far from being as easy as getting on a plane and flying there. First thing’s first.
Working for Media General, or any other company, would require an unpaid leave of abscence. Vacation days are gone and the company only provides for five unpaid days of leave, so this request had to go to the top. Without their blessing, the trip was dead. Beyond that, even if they gave me permission, there was still no guarentee I’d have any chance in hell of raising the estimated $11,000 needed to get this done, and that doesn’t include any equipment upgrades/replacements needed from the Afghan era.
So what do you do? Best thing to do in times of urgent crisis is to just relax and use a methodical, well planned approach. First thing’s first: Get the permission.
The gear needed to be an embedded journalist can get quite expensive. There’s two ways of doing it: The “right way” and “the best I can”. Considering the short time frame given to prepare for this, I have to go with, “the best I can” get my hands on.
For video camera, I’m relying on my trusty old Panasonic DVX-100. This camera is a little old (more than three years) and has been through hell and back, but it still works well, so that’s the way I’m going. Just got word that Roggio will be bringing a lesser quality camera, which will work great as a back up as well as provide me the ability for nightvision. If I wanted “to do it right”, I would be purchasing the HD version of the DVX-100, setting me back around $5,000. For nightvision, I would need a starscope made just for this camera, running another $6,000.
To Do It Right: $11,000 The Best I Can: $0
A good still camera is always in my sights. The Cannon EOS with attatchements and a couple standard lenses would run about $4,000. However, since I am primarily a video shooter, I only need a good “point-and-shoot” camera, deciding on the 7.1 MP Sony CyberShot. Including memory card: $270.
Laptop - I tend to use Apple in this situation. Have a nice 17″ PowerBook ($1,400), but the monitor was broke in Afghanistan and I have been unable to replace it. I may have to go without, this time because I can’t afford another PowerBook. Why PowerBook? Because it’s the easiest to use with my editing software, Final Cut Pro. With this setup, I can literaly edit from the bottom of a foxhole, if need be. Since Apple is outta my budget, I am considering a standard PC laptop. Cost: $700.
Gear - Most my survival gear needs to be replaced. Just bought: 5 UnderArmor T’s, 5 UnderArmour boxer briefs, dual season compact sleeping bag and sleeping pad, plus a CamelBak water system built into a backpack. New boots. Altogether: $300.
Body Armor - Can’t go cheap here. Went with Intercepter Body Armor which includes collar and groin protector. Added SAPI plates to front and back as well as pockets and plates for the sides (Level IV). Also added the shoulder attatchements. With this setup, I bought the police/special forces helmet with low cut on the back of the head for extra shooting room in the prone position (Level III-A). I also purchase ballistic googles built to go over my regulat eyeglasses. Total cost: $2,350
Plane Ticket - Need round-trip to Kuwait (military hop to Baghdad). Total cost: $1,600
Salary - Since this is an unpaid leave from my job, I figure I need to provide $500 p/week to barely cover our minimum domestic bills. Total cost: $1,500
On Hand Cash - $1000 (includes hotels and whatever else you never plan for).
Insurance - Going to a warzone changes everything. The insurance (including Life Insurance) you have through work, doesn’t work in a place like Iraq. You need special insurance that would most likely cost upward of $3,000.
Pretty expensive hobby, eh?
Time Flies When…August 15, 2007 @ 11:22 pm · Filed under Infrequent Posts
Bill really didn’t give me much time to make this happen. That’s why I really have Media General to thank. Fortunately for me, we have two new hires starting the same time I needed leave. I also have the support of all my supervisors; from immediate boss to General Manager. Now I just needed to hear from Richmond.
After about a week, I still hadn’t heard anything and I was starting to sweat. I realize in the corporate world that a week really isn’t that long, but when you only have a month to go before it’s showtime, everyday counts. That’s why I have to give it to my boss, Warren, and Media General. The big boys put the decision in my station’s hands… which had already been leaning toward letting me go. It all comes at a price, though. The company is drawing up an agreement that pretty much seperates me from Media General: No insurance, no life insurance, no nothing, except a job waiting when I get back. Understandable considering where I’m going. Regular insurance is useless in places like Iraq anyway. When you do these types of jobs, special conflict insurance is purchased, usually through Lloyd’s of London. It covers life insurance and maiming insurance. It provides for your hospitalization and rehab in the event you get injured, etc… The cost is in the thousands, as you can imagine. Fortunately, I am on my wife’s domestic insurance and am being sponsored the conflict insurance, so it all works out.
At this point, I have my work giving me an unpaid leave, I’ve got my plane and insurance covered and I’ve convinced my wife and family that this is the thing to do… even though I have a brand new baby. I still need some gear, including body armor (which I priced at $2,500 today), but it’s getting there. Also need to raise some money to cover my “unpaid leave”. I’m meeting with a potential supporter tommorow, so hopefully I can offset some of these remaining costs.
Permalink Comments
Gettin’ ThereAugust 15, 2007 @ 12:17 am · Filed under Infrequent Posts · Edit
I get asked a lot about what I do. Mostly because it’s a little off-kilter, as traditional jobs go. Granted, I’ve been back in a solid (minimum 40 hours p/week) job since the summer of ‘05 , but that doesn’t mean I’m not on the lookout for something Or, at the least working on my own documentaries. Since returning to the local NBC-affiliate, I’ve been torn, for various reasons, as to my future in local television news. Not suprisingly, it’s still undecided as to what direction I’ll take. Truth is though, I’m nearly 40 and starting to stress out a bit. Afterall, the independent dream I set off to find several years ago has still yet to be realized.
Spring forward to August 2005 where I run across the work of Bill Roggio. I’d heard of him before and quickly learned that he was planning a trip to Iraq for a ground level assessement of the surge. I obviously had no clue, within days of contacting him, he’d be interested in asking me along. What a chance. The pitch was simple: You’re a good writer, I’m a good videojournalist… so let’s team up and put out a documentary. He seemed to like the idea, at least good enough to ask me along. Unfortunately, I work for a large corporation, Media General, and such a short notice trip would be all but impossible. Not to mention the fact that by beautiful daughter, Davin, was barely 5 weeks old. I mean seriously, I hadn’t been downrange in over two years, just had a kid, have a corporate job and at the same time, may have finally gotten the break I’d been working on for years.
We’re still not there yet. I guess until I’m on the ground in Kuwait… I’m not on the ground in Kuwait. Before then, however, I can only imagine will be crazy times. Afterall, the invitation to go the the world’s most dangerous city came at a time that would leave me all of four weeks to prepare for. Don’t think for a second that it’s as easy as getting on a plane. Being an independent is a weird beast. It’s far from being as easy as getting on a plane and flying there. First thing’s first.
Working for Media General, or any other company, would require an unpaid leave of abscence. Vacation days are gone and the company only provides for five unpaid days of leave, so this request had to go to the top. Without their blessing, the trip was dead. Beyond that, even if they gave me permission, there was still no guarentee I’d have any chance in hell of raising the estimated $11,000 needed to get this done, and that doesn’t include any equipment upgrades/replacements needed from the Afghan era.
So what do you do? Best thing to do in times of urgent crisis is to just relax and use a methodical, well planned approach. First thing’s first: Get the permission.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Wow... Six weeks and no paycheck. The job hunt is narrowing but as far apart as possible. Some part time action at the local newstalk station... but other than that we are wallowing in distress. If things don't change real soon... I'm going to HAVE to go to Iraq. What a choice: Bankruptcy or Iraq.... At least I didn't get hit by a tsunami.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Maybe it was the ultimate sign of fatigue... but for whatever reason, I've had a helluva time getting back to the computer to write my final entry. Part of me wanted to wait until life was back on track, but I am now guessing that wasn't the best idea.
Fact is, I left Kabul in late November and spent 10 days in Istanbul before meeting my wife in Amsterdam for a week. Since then, I've been here in Virginia stressing about the things many of us do: Job, money, security.
Life over the past month has been quite a change. I almost feel like I needed all this time just to "get used to it again". It really is hard to explain unless you've been to a place like Afghanistan for as long as I was... but it is reality. Much of all I've cared about the past month is sleeping and laziness. Right now I'm trying hard to shake off this funk. Hopefully things will turn around soon.
Tomorrow I have an interview in DC. I've already been offered a job here in Roanoke. So within the next few days, I'll know for sure the direction life will take.
One thing is for sure though: Afghanistan will be with me forever. The people of that country are so tough and dedicated to change. Believe it or not, the story there is one of progressive success. Maybe after 25 years they decided it was time to live instead of die. Dunno. What I do know is that the people of Afghanistan are in better shape now than anytime since 1978 and the United States has a lot to be proud of in being a part of that success. Again though, I would put a majority of the success on the shoulders of the people. For if the people don't want change... there will never be change.
I'm just thankful to have experienced what I have and survived intact. I am now working on a series of documentaries that chronicles my travels. Soon, many of the stories you have read about, you'll be able to see on video. That is my contribution to this effort: To make sure the most important year in Afghanistan's history is chronicled and preserved forever.
ps - You can check out my new article in the February edition of Soldier of Fortune!!!
Fact is, I left Kabul in late November and spent 10 days in Istanbul before meeting my wife in Amsterdam for a week. Since then, I've been here in Virginia stressing about the things many of us do: Job, money, security.
Life over the past month has been quite a change. I almost feel like I needed all this time just to "get used to it again". It really is hard to explain unless you've been to a place like Afghanistan for as long as I was... but it is reality. Much of all I've cared about the past month is sleeping and laziness. Right now I'm trying hard to shake off this funk. Hopefully things will turn around soon.
Tomorrow I have an interview in DC. I've already been offered a job here in Roanoke. So within the next few days, I'll know for sure the direction life will take.
One thing is for sure though: Afghanistan will be with me forever. The people of that country are so tough and dedicated to change. Believe it or not, the story there is one of progressive success. Maybe after 25 years they decided it was time to live instead of die. Dunno. What I do know is that the people of Afghanistan are in better shape now than anytime since 1978 and the United States has a lot to be proud of in being a part of that success. Again though, I would put a majority of the success on the shoulders of the people. For if the people don't want change... there will never be change.
I'm just thankful to have experienced what I have and survived intact. I am now working on a series of documentaries that chronicles my travels. Soon, many of the stories you have read about, you'll be able to see on video. That is my contribution to this effort: To make sure the most important year in Afghanistan's history is chronicled and preserved forever.
ps - You can check out my new article in the February edition of Soldier of Fortune!!!
Sunday, November 21, 2004
Tuesday, November 16th, 2004
Combined Forces Command (CFC) was offering a quick day trip to a village near Bagram and had put out an advisory inviting the media along. Day trips are perfect: You get a chopper ride, a convoy, see the kids AND get back for dinner.
Planning on not going out again, I figured the risk factor here to be low, so I decided this would be the last trip... for sure.
We met at ISAF airport in Kabul for the 15 minute Blackhawk chopper ride to Bagram. At ISAF, I met up with Scott again. It was good since the last and first time I saw or met him was when I was sick as a dog the day after the elections in Kandahar. He had his girlfriend with him, who is also a still shooter. What a life... get to travel the world, take pictures, get paid AND be with your woman. He definitely has the set up.
The ride was unadventurous as was the pre-convoy brief. When all was said and done, I got the front seat of an SUV for the 45 minute, very bumpy ride to Kapisa Province. What we are on is a humanitarian drop, which is done all around the country on a regular basis. The idea for today's event was a massive and coordinated one day drop at 25 locations around Afghanistan to help celebrate the end of Eid and the holy month of Ramadan.
We made our way through the narrow streets of the villages and across the bumpy roads of the country before we came to a school yard, which like everything else here, is surrounded by a high wall. Inside the schoolyard were hundreds of people waiting for us. I immediately had the same feeling I had coming around the corner of my first medical brigade in Honduras. I had to just step back and say, "Whoa.."
I had warned the female soldier with me of the dirty, perverted things the children will try for her and filled her in on some of the customs, particularly concerning interaction between men and women. In a nutshell, if you are not covered and veiled, you are considered a whore. That simple. Of course within five minutes I have to chase a little pervert away from her that was doing just what I had warned the Lieutenant about. What they do is rub their finger in their hand. If they have a chance, they will grab your hand, spit in it and rub your hand in that manner. Rather disgusting and primal. I guess the age is what freaks me out. These kids I see do this are 8, 9, 10, etc... No wonder the birthrate is an astonishing 6.8 kids.
Everything seemed to be going well. The men all standing around a huddled see of blue bhurkas. No unveiled women here. In fact ALL the women were in bhurkas.
The army loaded all the stuff into a tent, which was soon packed to the gill with clothes, blankets, school supplies, etc. First some handicapped people came through, then some women and all was going fine. The whole time, men and boys that had surrounded the tent began sneaking under the tent trying to steal stuff. Time after time they would get hit with rifles and sticks, but they kept coming back. It was like a pack of coyotes finishing of a dangerous piece of prey. One would swoop in, make a grab and run. Twenty minutes in to the drop and I'm getting pictures from the outside of the tent as these guys are trying to grab stuff. I follow one in and almost get whacked with a stick. Just writing this I now remember the look on the guys face that was about to whack me. Glad he didn't. As soon as I got in though, all hell broke loose around me. Like a feeding frenzy, once a box was penetrated, it was on. I just stood in the middle and shot the carnage. Sgt. Weitzke was standing his ground in a corner to my front right and I could see Christie and Scott snapping away to my back right. Doctor, from APTN, was off to my left getting the high angle shot. Me, I was sitting on a box of stuff that was quickly shrinking beneath me. It was wild. People grabbing anything they could. Guards pushing, hitting, beating... you name it, it was on. Funny thing is, most people I saw had smiles on their faces. Very surreal. One guard came through with a 1x6 taking long swings and clearing out all sorts of people who ran from his attack. They'd just flank him though and go back to pillaging everything in site. Even the cardboard boxes themselves.
I know for sure a few people got hurt, no doubt. You can't just get hit by a rifle and not be hurt. That hurts, no matter what the movies show. The dust was incredible inside the tent. Orange light broke through the canvas showing the trails of dust as the people fought for anything that wasn't cemented to the ground. Of course they destroyed the school's desks in the process. Hell, the mullahs were so embarrassed that they left without saying a word.
After a good 15 minutes, I thought push would come to shoot. One militia guy was chasing this other guy and he was relentless. He was going to catch this guy and when the one being chased realized it, he turned around and grabbed the guy's gun. That sent a wave through the crowd that brought all the gunmen running. I thought this was gonna be a gunfight. It wasn't (thank god), but one of the Afghan Americans that helped organize the trip became very worried that the police and militia where going to start fighting, so we loaded up and left.
We still had 50 goats to deliver, but had we done it at the school, it would've been a massacre. So we drove to the governor's house, talked, did some interviewing and left the goats there with the governor and the militia/police for them to distribute. I thought that was a bad idea and as we left, one of the translators said, "You just delivered the sheep to the wolf." How appropriate.
At Bagram, I got myself a haircut and a whopper and waited for the chopper. Again a Blackhawk. This time, the crew chief asked if we wanted the door open. Knowing this was my last chopper ride over Afghanistan, I was easy to convince and did I regret it. Must've been my seat, but the ride was horrible. I couldn't even look out the door it was blowing so hard. IN fact, I could feel my face wobbling around like in a wind tunnel with the occasional drool escaping and smacking into the guy next to me. Seriously, when we got to ISAF, the inside of my glasses were completely spattered in eye juice. And I thought I'd seen it all. What a warmup to going back to the house to ride out my time.
Combined Forces Command (CFC) was offering a quick day trip to a village near Bagram and had put out an advisory inviting the media along. Day trips are perfect: You get a chopper ride, a convoy, see the kids AND get back for dinner.
Planning on not going out again, I figured the risk factor here to be low, so I decided this would be the last trip... for sure.
We met at ISAF airport in Kabul for the 15 minute Blackhawk chopper ride to Bagram. At ISAF, I met up with Scott again. It was good since the last and first time I saw or met him was when I was sick as a dog the day after the elections in Kandahar. He had his girlfriend with him, who is also a still shooter. What a life... get to travel the world, take pictures, get paid AND be with your woman. He definitely has the set up.
The ride was unadventurous as was the pre-convoy brief. When all was said and done, I got the front seat of an SUV for the 45 minute, very bumpy ride to Kapisa Province. What we are on is a humanitarian drop, which is done all around the country on a regular basis. The idea for today's event was a massive and coordinated one day drop at 25 locations around Afghanistan to help celebrate the end of Eid and the holy month of Ramadan.
We made our way through the narrow streets of the villages and across the bumpy roads of the country before we came to a school yard, which like everything else here, is surrounded by a high wall. Inside the schoolyard were hundreds of people waiting for us. I immediately had the same feeling I had coming around the corner of my first medical brigade in Honduras. I had to just step back and say, "Whoa.."
I had warned the female soldier with me of the dirty, perverted things the children will try for her and filled her in on some of the customs, particularly concerning interaction between men and women. In a nutshell, if you are not covered and veiled, you are considered a whore. That simple. Of course within five minutes I have to chase a little pervert away from her that was doing just what I had warned the Lieutenant about. What they do is rub their finger in their hand. If they have a chance, they will grab your hand, spit in it and rub your hand in that manner. Rather disgusting and primal. I guess the age is what freaks me out. These kids I see do this are 8, 9, 10, etc... No wonder the birthrate is an astonishing 6.8 kids.
Everything seemed to be going well. The men all standing around a huddled see of blue bhurkas. No unveiled women here. In fact ALL the women were in bhurkas.
The army loaded all the stuff into a tent, which was soon packed to the gill with clothes, blankets, school supplies, etc. First some handicapped people came through, then some women and all was going fine. The whole time, men and boys that had surrounded the tent began sneaking under the tent trying to steal stuff. Time after time they would get hit with rifles and sticks, but they kept coming back. It was like a pack of coyotes finishing of a dangerous piece of prey. One would swoop in, make a grab and run. Twenty minutes in to the drop and I'm getting pictures from the outside of the tent as these guys are trying to grab stuff. I follow one in and almost get whacked with a stick. Just writing this I now remember the look on the guys face that was about to whack me. Glad he didn't. As soon as I got in though, all hell broke loose around me. Like a feeding frenzy, once a box was penetrated, it was on. I just stood in the middle and shot the carnage. Sgt. Weitzke was standing his ground in a corner to my front right and I could see Christie and Scott snapping away to my back right. Doctor, from APTN, was off to my left getting the high angle shot. Me, I was sitting on a box of stuff that was quickly shrinking beneath me. It was wild. People grabbing anything they could. Guards pushing, hitting, beating... you name it, it was on. Funny thing is, most people I saw had smiles on their faces. Very surreal. One guard came through with a 1x6 taking long swings and clearing out all sorts of people who ran from his attack. They'd just flank him though and go back to pillaging everything in site. Even the cardboard boxes themselves.
I know for sure a few people got hurt, no doubt. You can't just get hit by a rifle and not be hurt. That hurts, no matter what the movies show. The dust was incredible inside the tent. Orange light broke through the canvas showing the trails of dust as the people fought for anything that wasn't cemented to the ground. Of course they destroyed the school's desks in the process. Hell, the mullahs were so embarrassed that they left without saying a word.
After a good 15 minutes, I thought push would come to shoot. One militia guy was chasing this other guy and he was relentless. He was going to catch this guy and when the one being chased realized it, he turned around and grabbed the guy's gun. That sent a wave through the crowd that brought all the gunmen running. I thought this was gonna be a gunfight. It wasn't (thank god), but one of the Afghan Americans that helped organize the trip became very worried that the police and militia where going to start fighting, so we loaded up and left.
We still had 50 goats to deliver, but had we done it at the school, it would've been a massacre. So we drove to the governor's house, talked, did some interviewing and left the goats there with the governor and the militia/police for them to distribute. I thought that was a bad idea and as we left, one of the translators said, "You just delivered the sheep to the wolf." How appropriate.
At Bagram, I got myself a haircut and a whopper and waited for the chopper. Again a Blackhawk. This time, the crew chief asked if we wanted the door open. Knowing this was my last chopper ride over Afghanistan, I was easy to convince and did I regret it. Must've been my seat, but the ride was horrible. I couldn't even look out the door it was blowing so hard. IN fact, I could feel my face wobbling around like in a wind tunnel with the occasional drool escaping and smacking into the guy next to me. Seriously, when we got to ISAF, the inside of my glasses were completely spattered in eye juice. And I thought I'd seen it all. What a warmup to going back to the house to ride out my time.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Since the trip out with the 29th, not a whole lot has been going on. I spent a few days hanging with the guys and doing some video holiday greetings for them. Also took some nice video of a ceremony that gave the 3/116th 29th ID their first Combat Infantry Badge in 52 years for some action one of the units saw near Qalat. Considering Bravo saw action twice in this past week, it was coming one way or another.
My final day with 3/116th was on Wednesday, November 3rd. As we were getting up for breakfast, the returns from the US were just coming in, so I did a story of troops in Afghanistan watching the returns. Thought the story was more than apt considering how important the elections were and the fact that these men were still fighting in Afghanistan, the lynchpin of the war on terror.
Everything went well as the predominately Bush crowd enjoyed early victory which would eventually turn into the nail bitter we are all now familiar with. As the networks were trying to figure out Ohio, it was time for me to go, so I grabbed my gear and headed for the gate.
Before climbing into the car with Ahmet, the unit presented me with a coin and a certificate for coming down to do holiday greetings. Great gesture that definitely made my day. BTW, these "coins" are unit coins typically made up for units when they deploy. I also got one from the 22nd MEU, both of which will go into the memory drawer forever.
The ride back was ok. Ahmet and I haven't been talking so it was cordial, but quiet. He let me know that there has been some weird things in Kabul and that in fact, he was worried about his safety. That's the line I draw. That's when you know things aren't all that healthy in the capital. Not that it was dangerous, but that even the fact that long term locals had fear, definitely raised the awareness level again. Regardless, it was good to get back and Ii was looking forward to managing the bureau for a few weeks, lay low and see it out my contract.
Unfortunately things didn't work out so well, and like before, the office is still out of control. Our production has dropped significantly and the morale is out the window. I have no choice but to just continue doing my best, covering my beat, with the hopes Istanbul will recognize where the problems lie.
For the past month, it's been Ramadan, which means breakfast at 0400 because the guys all fast until around 1720. Needless to say, I was treated like everyone else and ended up on a tuna fish, egg and pomegranate diet, which is taking its toll. To make matters worse, the guys WAY overspent the food budget (which I do not control or have any say in) and at this moment in the month, we continue to nearly starve due to lack of funds and organization. It's really just gotten to the point where I wake up when the sunrises and go to bed when it sets. Since no one gets up around here until 1100 - 1200ish, it just works out well for me. I get 6 hours of peace.
If the professionalism lacking isn't bad enough, culturally things have also been falling apart. I live in a house where the guys cheer when US and British soldiers are killed and scream bloody murder when a mosque full of iinsurgents is blown up on the TV. I get to hear about how awful Hiroshima was and that Pearl Harbor never happened. I get cheers when Margrat Hussein was executed and cries for war when an insurrgent is executed. It's all, collectively, taking a huge toll on me and I can't wait to go home.
One thing I can say is that this is giving me tons of practice in anger management. In fact, one of the guys got angry with me and did the old "stick your chest out and get in my face" routines. In the process, he knocked my Mac 17' off the table, breaking my display. Not only that, but my Final Cut editor is out as well. Now, normally the resulting action would be a swift ass kicking, but that wasn't the case as I just gathered my things and went to my room to start plotting another mission with the military just so I could get outta here.
My final day with 3/116th was on Wednesday, November 3rd. As we were getting up for breakfast, the returns from the US were just coming in, so I did a story of troops in Afghanistan watching the returns. Thought the story was more than apt considering how important the elections were and the fact that these men were still fighting in Afghanistan, the lynchpin of the war on terror.
Everything went well as the predominately Bush crowd enjoyed early victory which would eventually turn into the nail bitter we are all now familiar with. As the networks were trying to figure out Ohio, it was time for me to go, so I grabbed my gear and headed for the gate.
Before climbing into the car with Ahmet, the unit presented me with a coin and a certificate for coming down to do holiday greetings. Great gesture that definitely made my day. BTW, these "coins" are unit coins typically made up for units when they deploy. I also got one from the 22nd MEU, both of which will go into the memory drawer forever.
The ride back was ok. Ahmet and I haven't been talking so it was cordial, but quiet. He let me know that there has been some weird things in Kabul and that in fact, he was worried about his safety. That's the line I draw. That's when you know things aren't all that healthy in the capital. Not that it was dangerous, but that even the fact that long term locals had fear, definitely raised the awareness level again. Regardless, it was good to get back and Ii was looking forward to managing the bureau for a few weeks, lay low and see it out my contract.
Unfortunately things didn't work out so well, and like before, the office is still out of control. Our production has dropped significantly and the morale is out the window. I have no choice but to just continue doing my best, covering my beat, with the hopes Istanbul will recognize where the problems lie.
For the past month, it's been Ramadan, which means breakfast at 0400 because the guys all fast until around 1720. Needless to say, I was treated like everyone else and ended up on a tuna fish, egg and pomegranate diet, which is taking its toll. To make matters worse, the guys WAY overspent the food budget (which I do not control or have any say in) and at this moment in the month, we continue to nearly starve due to lack of funds and organization. It's really just gotten to the point where I wake up when the sunrises and go to bed when it sets. Since no one gets up around here until 1100 - 1200ish, it just works out well for me. I get 6 hours of peace.
If the professionalism lacking isn't bad enough, culturally things have also been falling apart. I live in a house where the guys cheer when US and British soldiers are killed and scream bloody murder when a mosque full of iinsurgents is blown up on the TV. I get to hear about how awful Hiroshima was and that Pearl Harbor never happened. I get cheers when Margrat Hussein was executed and cries for war when an insurrgent is executed. It's all, collectively, taking a huge toll on me and I can't wait to go home.
One thing I can say is that this is giving me tons of practice in anger management. In fact, one of the guys got angry with me and did the old "stick your chest out and get in my face" routines. In the process, he knocked my Mac 17' off the table, breaking my display. Not only that, but my Final Cut editor is out as well. Now, normally the resulting action would be a swift ass kicking, but that wasn't the case as I just gathered my things and went to my room to start plotting another mission with the military just so I could get outta here.
Monday, November 15, 2004
Saturday Oct 30th, 2004 (cont)
When the order came down to move out, I'd just finished dinner and tea with the ANA and was relaxing with some local help that, according to the interpreter, earned me respect among the troops. I have found this to be the case wherever I went and interacted with the the Afghans.
As the men around me started to quickly pack, I stumbled my way up the dark, boulder strewn hill, which proved to be much more difficult than usual. With no light, I made my way to my fighting position and quickly packed all my gear and waited for the order.
Our mission was to provide covering fire for Bravo as they pulled back through the valley and village which was the center of the action earlier that day. Many of the guys were grumbling about the order, but followed without hesitation. 45 minutes into the wait, Bravo finally began to move.
We followed the 15+ vehicle convoy with night vision as they snaked past the base of the hill were on. We had to wait 10 minutes before we could move, which made everyone nervous about IEDs.
After 10 minutes, we were off in a long convoy of our own. All I could think about was IEDs. 45 minutes later, we were safe and sound back at our base camp which was within the walls of a National Directorate of Security compound. There we all unpacked and most hit the rack. I spent some time at the fire can with Charlie before pulling up my bedding on a dusty concrete floor inside the main building.
Sunday, October 31st 2004
We spent the morning packing up the camp to get ready for the 100 km move south to the FOB at Ghazni. Somehow, I lost my seat in the Humvee and ended up taking the trip in the back of a full 5-ton truck. It really wouldn't have been that bad except for the fact that my truck was pulling a trailer full of 50 gallon fuel drums. Obviously, this gave me some rather nauseating thoughts. Not only were we the perfect IED target, but we were pulling fuel as well. My only comfort was that my death would be quick in the event of an attack. The ride seemed to take forever, primarily because of the cold as the thought of attack went away rather quickly and we pulled into FOB Ghazni with no trouble at all.
Later that night came word that there was an attack and we were very concerned it came on the scout unit that was still out in Parwan. When an attack happens with casualties, they shut down the phones and internet so word can't get out prematurely. The guessing led to the guys getting upset because the only unit out was the scouts and the process of elimination was getting the guys riled up, particularly because many thought we pulled out too early.
So as a reporter should, I went looking for answers and quickly found them. Turns out it was the Iowa guard that was hit in a neighboring province which killed 1 and wounded two. I let my source know that the guys were very upset which prompted the leadership to quietly pass the word that the 3/116th was intact.
When the order came down to move out, I'd just finished dinner and tea with the ANA and was relaxing with some local help that, according to the interpreter, earned me respect among the troops. I have found this to be the case wherever I went and interacted with the the Afghans.
As the men around me started to quickly pack, I stumbled my way up the dark, boulder strewn hill, which proved to be much more difficult than usual. With no light, I made my way to my fighting position and quickly packed all my gear and waited for the order.
Our mission was to provide covering fire for Bravo as they pulled back through the valley and village which was the center of the action earlier that day. Many of the guys were grumbling about the order, but followed without hesitation. 45 minutes into the wait, Bravo finally began to move.
We followed the 15+ vehicle convoy with night vision as they snaked past the base of the hill were on. We had to wait 10 minutes before we could move, which made everyone nervous about IEDs.
After 10 minutes, we were off in a long convoy of our own. All I could think about was IEDs. 45 minutes later, we were safe and sound back at our base camp which was within the walls of a National Directorate of Security compound. There we all unpacked and most hit the rack. I spent some time at the fire can with Charlie before pulling up my bedding on a dusty concrete floor inside the main building.
Sunday, October 31st 2004
We spent the morning packing up the camp to get ready for the 100 km move south to the FOB at Ghazni. Somehow, I lost my seat in the Humvee and ended up taking the trip in the back of a full 5-ton truck. It really wouldn't have been that bad except for the fact that my truck was pulling a trailer full of 50 gallon fuel drums. Obviously, this gave me some rather nauseating thoughts. Not only were we the perfect IED target, but we were pulling fuel as well. My only comfort was that my death would be quick in the event of an attack. The ride seemed to take forever, primarily because of the cold as the thought of attack went away rather quickly and we pulled into FOB Ghazni with no trouble at all.
Later that night came word that there was an attack and we were very concerned it came on the scout unit that was still out in Parwan. When an attack happens with casualties, they shut down the phones and internet so word can't get out prematurely. The guessing led to the guys getting upset because the only unit out was the scouts and the process of elimination was getting the guys riled up, particularly because many thought we pulled out too early.
So as a reporter should, I went looking for answers and quickly found them. Turns out it was the Iowa guard that was hit in a neighboring province which killed 1 and wounded two. I let my source know that the guys were very upset which prompted the leadership to quietly pass the word that the 3/116th was intact.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
Saturday, October 30th 2004 (cont)
As we start down the road where, as usual, the Afghans are having a hoot that some random white guy has just jumped into their truck. The drive down has quick and bumpy and like always, dusty.
A couple of km down, we stop, turn around and head the opposite direction. We were out because Bravo was supposedly in contact again and we were going the opposite way.
We pulled up to the beginning of a clusters of buildings and fanned out while moving toward the village. There the Americans told the local police to start questioning the village elders about who it was firing on the coalition.
Which is always the case, the men all said they heard nothing about outsiders or fighters. In fact none of them heard the thud of HE rounds hitting the mountain. We did find one guy that heard the B-1 come over head and he said they were all very scared.
This is the biggest challenge these troops face out here and it's a simple matter of numbers. I truly believe that these people want to give the ACM up, they are just afraid of reprisal, which is always deadly. Because the coalition doesn't have enough troops to properly secure the country, patrols come and go with no consequence for what is left behind. Today there is security, but once Charlie and Bravo move on, it's up to the local police who are incapable of the job right now.
The alternative is giving the terrorists food, shelter or whatever in return for not being killed. Talk about a rock and a hard spot.
We push through the village and head toward a very steep, foothill to the range beyond. It's here that we hear a shepherd is supposed to be, but there is no sign of him and we start up the hill. By this time the agile young Afghans are quickly moving up, while me and the armor-laden Americans are pull up the rear. When the Afghans make it to a depression that looks like a cave, they stop. When they stop, we stop and just look at them.
The cave turns out not to be a cave and the Afghans want to continue to the ridge. Much to my delight, the U.S. advisors wave them down. I have to say, for men that had not trained together, they approached the village together quite well with police spreading out on the flanks keeping proper distance, etc...
On the way back in, we stopped a few more random guys and got the same story over and over. I've heard it a million times since I've been here and will hear it more, I'm sure.
Just as we were loading up to leave, the police came to the Americans and told them they had found someone who wanted to talk, but was afraid. So the soldiers acted like they arrested him and we took him off to be interviewed.
The man claimed that he knew the men who fired on the troops, what they looked like and where they lived. He also said that there were up to six Al Qaida in the hills led by a Pakistani that had come over the border just three days before.
Before long the intel guys showed up. Regular army guys that don't have to shave, don't have to wear uniforms and drive well equipped white SUV's. The Americans decide to split up, one team pushing up to Bravo , leaving one of the "agents" to interrogate the informant. By this point the man was truly scared and was not interested in fingering the bad guys in person. That's when the intel guy steps up, finger out, telling the guy he will cooperate or he'll be "held responsible".
For whatever the technique, it worked because eventually the guy was showing the informant the very darkly tinted windows of the SUV and he seemed assured no one could see in.
By now, I want to get up the hill and get my sleeping gear because if Bravo was going to knock on some Al Qaida doors, I certainly wanted to be there. So the ETT's with the Afghan Army agreed to take me up the hill. On the way up, though, I saw the column pull out without me.
At the top of the hill I let the guys know what was up and that got them excited and a bit pissed. You have to understand, these guys want to do their job badly and knowing there may be Al Qaida down there stokes the fire. Not only that, but they've been here 4 months and Bravo just arrived from Bagram and just like that, Bravo is getting more action in a week then Charlie has had since they got here.
Turns out the cordon and search was not approved. Not sure why, but it was. I also didn't hear all of the conversation of what was going on with HQ and the informant, so who knows what influenced the decision.
So with the sun going down I finished of my sleeping area, which actually looked quite comfortable. I was then invited down with some of the others to have dinner with the Afghans, which I accepted. They have fire afterall, and it was getting cold.
Dinner turned into tea as the soldiers asked me various questions about America and what not, which went on for about a half an hour when all of a sudden, the Afghans got up and started breaking camp telling me we were going to Ghazni.
As we start down the road where, as usual, the Afghans are having a hoot that some random white guy has just jumped into their truck. The drive down has quick and bumpy and like always, dusty.
A couple of km down, we stop, turn around and head the opposite direction. We were out because Bravo was supposedly in contact again and we were going the opposite way.
We pulled up to the beginning of a clusters of buildings and fanned out while moving toward the village. There the Americans told the local police to start questioning the village elders about who it was firing on the coalition.
Which is always the case, the men all said they heard nothing about outsiders or fighters. In fact none of them heard the thud of HE rounds hitting the mountain. We did find one guy that heard the B-1 come over head and he said they were all very scared.
This is the biggest challenge these troops face out here and it's a simple matter of numbers. I truly believe that these people want to give the ACM up, they are just afraid of reprisal, which is always deadly. Because the coalition doesn't have enough troops to properly secure the country, patrols come and go with no consequence for what is left behind. Today there is security, but once Charlie and Bravo move on, it's up to the local police who are incapable of the job right now.
The alternative is giving the terrorists food, shelter or whatever in return for not being killed. Talk about a rock and a hard spot.
We push through the village and head toward a very steep, foothill to the range beyond. It's here that we hear a shepherd is supposed to be, but there is no sign of him and we start up the hill. By this time the agile young Afghans are quickly moving up, while me and the armor-laden Americans are pull up the rear. When the Afghans make it to a depression that looks like a cave, they stop. When they stop, we stop and just look at them.
The cave turns out not to be a cave and the Afghans want to continue to the ridge. Much to my delight, the U.S. advisors wave them down. I have to say, for men that had not trained together, they approached the village together quite well with police spreading out on the flanks keeping proper distance, etc...
On the way back in, we stopped a few more random guys and got the same story over and over. I've heard it a million times since I've been here and will hear it more, I'm sure.
Just as we were loading up to leave, the police came to the Americans and told them they had found someone who wanted to talk, but was afraid. So the soldiers acted like they arrested him and we took him off to be interviewed.
The man claimed that he knew the men who fired on the troops, what they looked like and where they lived. He also said that there were up to six Al Qaida in the hills led by a Pakistani that had come over the border just three days before.
Before long the intel guys showed up. Regular army guys that don't have to shave, don't have to wear uniforms and drive well equipped white SUV's. The Americans decide to split up, one team pushing up to Bravo , leaving one of the "agents" to interrogate the informant. By this point the man was truly scared and was not interested in fingering the bad guys in person. That's when the intel guy steps up, finger out, telling the guy he will cooperate or he'll be "held responsible".
For whatever the technique, it worked because eventually the guy was showing the informant the very darkly tinted windows of the SUV and he seemed assured no one could see in.
By now, I want to get up the hill and get my sleeping gear because if Bravo was going to knock on some Al Qaida doors, I certainly wanted to be there. So the ETT's with the Afghan Army agreed to take me up the hill. On the way up, though, I saw the column pull out without me.
At the top of the hill I let the guys know what was up and that got them excited and a bit pissed. You have to understand, these guys want to do their job badly and knowing there may be Al Qaida down there stokes the fire. Not only that, but they've been here 4 months and Bravo just arrived from Bagram and just like that, Bravo is getting more action in a week then Charlie has had since they got here.
Turns out the cordon and search was not approved. Not sure why, but it was. I also didn't hear all of the conversation of what was going on with HQ and the informant, so who knows what influenced the decision.
So with the sun going down I finished of my sleeping area, which actually looked quite comfortable. I was then invited down with some of the others to have dinner with the Afghans, which I accepted. They have fire afterall, and it was getting cold.
Dinner turned into tea as the soldiers asked me various questions about America and what not, which went on for about a half an hour when all of a sudden, the Afghans got up and started breaking camp telling me we were going to Ghazni.
