Strong Ideas

“I like the Night Life, God likes to Boogie”

2008-04-20T03:35:00.000-07:00

The nightly display of fireworks of the sky and the music of the jungle has been extraordinary. Two nights ago, we watched as the sky lit up with a display of Thor’s magic, rolling through the evening clouds. Thunder echoed its brother’s lights, and then the rain came down in misty waves I blending seamlessly into their fraternity. Lt. Col. Ed Tanguy, Capt. Pete Aguilar and stood on the Lanai (balcony/porch) and watched enrapt with the Godly display of Nature's ominous power before us. After the thunder and lightning ended, we were rewarded with the strangest cacophony of sound. What started out as an apparent dog fight, slowly turned into the total mayhem of the calls of monkeys as they competed for who could shout the loudest across the newly soaked jungle.

An amazing night in the Jungles of Bengal.

In the words we use at the closing of every prayer I my family, “Thank you God, Thank you God, Thank you God.”

Sgt. 1st Class Vinni Jacques

2008-04-16T01:28:00.000-07:00

I have worked with SFC Phillip "Vinni" Jacques in Oregon, within the same unit that he served in Iraq (when I joined the Volunteers of the 2nd Battalion, 162nd Infantry, Jacques had already returned home after having sustained serious injuries in combat when an IED hit his vehicle, killing his driver), in New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina where he led a platoon in the recovery efforts of a flooded and decrepit section of the city, and now in Rajendrapur, Bangladesh, where we are deployed to assist in the training, evaluation and mentoring of Soldiers from ten nations across the South Asian subcontinent (and where, a Ranger to the end, he has developed a great relationship with the Ghurka Rifles of Northern India).

One of the most professional Soldiers I have ever worked with, "Sergeant Jacques" is the type of NCO that spends his evenings reading SOPs and his omnipresent Ranger Handbook, in an effort to constantly improve his knowledge and expertise in the techniques, tactics and procedures that will serve him and his Soldiers on and off the battlefield.
This afternoon, in a brief repasse from the lane evaluation and mentoring that he has been running, he shared a story that showed another role he meets with total commitment, that of being the Father of three children. In the wake of last summer's hit movie "Transformers," Jacques' eldest son, told him in the morning following the film, "Dad, I think Bumblebee was knocking on my window last night." A fantastic image of the creative imagination of a seven year old. "Son, we need to talk," Vinni repliled. Sitting his son down, Jacques told him, "Son, I have a confession to make, that wasn't Bumblebee. It was my truck. Because my truck is a Transformer." "Really Dad? What is his name," asked his son with the faith and total belief that only a child can offer the counsel of his loving parents. "Well his name is Suppositor, because he is such a pain in my rear end," he explained.

This was received with joyous rapture of a boy who realized he had a transformer acountable to his father. He immediately ran through the house, "Grandma, Dad's truck is a Transformer and his name is Suppositor because he is such a pain in Dad's rear end!"

"Mom, Dad's truck is a Transformer and his name is Suppositor because he is such a pain in Dad's rear end!"

This from the same professional Non Commissioned Officer that helped to stand up, alongside retired Colonel Scott McCrae (our former Chief of Personnel who, only months before his retirement lost his son in an IED attack in Operation Iraqi Freedom), the Oregon Reintegration Team for soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan to assist them with the challenges they need, whether counselling, career assistance, educational benefits or just someone to talk to. Explaining this to a visiting Lt. Col. from the U.S. State Department while handing him a tri-fold program explaining the Reintegration Team, Jacques offered, "Sir, Soldiers can call this 1-800 number 24 hours a day and we guarantee that one of us will answer it anytime. We maintain it like a staff duty line, so that Soldiers will get an answer no matter when they call. We figure it is at least something that we can do directly to help those that gave themselves completely to defend their nation."

(Side note: we have just learned today that in the wake of the excellence acomplished by the Oregon Reintegration Team, the National Guard Bureau has directed that all states and territories stand up similar programs out of the State headquarters)

it is yet another example of the type of Soldier serving, like the Ranger creed he adheres to everyday, "One Hundred per cent and then some." It is a great privilege to work with such an extraordinary leader and to know and work with such a great man.

Rangers Lead The Way!

-out here

Training (and Sweating) to standard

2008-04-16T00:58:00.001-07:00

So the temperature in Bangladesh this time of year is hot. The average in the Farenheit grade has been between the high 80s and the high 90s with an average of 98 degrees, with a humidity of about 70%. Thus, being the sweat machine that deployments to Iraq, Afghanistan and Katrina have proven me to be, I have shed about eight pounds since our arrival...now to keep it off.

The exercise has enabled us to work with combat leaders from across the Asian subcontinent and it has been a great opportunity to get to know the cultures, values and training standards of these diverse peoples.

It has also given us, as members of the Oregon National Guard, both Army and Air components, to get to know each other better, reminding us of the incredible value we bring to the expeditionary military environment we are currently so actively involved within. The

Each of us is preparing to redeploy within less than a week with a strong relationships that reinforce not only the regional stability and commitment that each nation offers to the world, but with the knowledge, that, when you work and sweat together, we are not all that different from each other.

Soldiers are in the business of the implementation of national security objectives, but as General MacArthur observed long ago, it is the Soldier who prays most heartily for peace because it is he or she that must endure the scars of war for a lifetime. It is an honor to be involved with a mission that highlights that message on a daily basis.

-out here

Subo Nobu Bosho - Happy New Year

2008-04-14T05:18:00.000-07:00

The new year in Bangladesh is ultimately synchronized with the environment, based on the cycle of the monsoon season, the harvest time, and the return of the Sun and its power to renew the land and dry out the rains.

In this spirit, the last 24 hours met the expectations of the Bangladeshis perfectly. Late in the evening, we experienced a burst of rain and thunder and lightning that lasted a mere hour. Today we were greeted by the burning sun of the new year. It was seen as a sign of good fortune from both Allah (God) and the pantheon of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses in this land of tolerance of diversity in faith. It also made today a great day to be witness to the happy smiles of the Bangladeshi people and the international soldiers deployed here to train with them.

Beside that, I met a couple of monkeys, watched a snake charmer as he interacted with two Cobras, danced with a witnessed many traditional dances performed by children and saw the beautiful dress of men and women in their decorative gracing of the new year.

-out here

The Road to Dhaka (and Back)

2008-04-13T06:27:00.000-07:00

A tour of Bengali Culture

2008-04-10T10:59:00.000-07:00

We live at the Bangladesh Institute for Peace Support Operations or BIPSOT, located North of Dhaka in the jungles of Ranjnapur about an hour and a half drive (and a lot of prayer Inshallah) North of the capitol. It is warm still at a minute past midnight. Several of the senior officers got to go to the Army Division Command site downtown last night. It was for a cultural event that was nice, elegantly done and paqcked with officers from about 18 countries.

The meal was incredible and the style informal. After dinner we were treated to a variety of shows from the recitation of a component of the "Bidrohi Poem" or the poem of rebellion written by the national poet of Bangladesh Kazi Nazrul Islam. The central them of the poem is generally to uproot oppression from across the globe in order to ensure that human rights prevail. It was read alternaively in Bengali and English. he was accompanied by a dancer that embodied the spirit of the Rebel, striking out against the forces of oppression.

This was followed by an amazing song of Lalon. Lalon Shah was a mystic that embodied the yearning for a sensitive and modest life of dedication and truth. The singer Pagla Bablu and a female companion with a type of small cymbals gave an intoxicating singing of what is called a lalon song, after the mystic

It was an amazing exposure to the remarkably tolerant and diverse culture of this ancient land and relatively new country.

I am so honored to be here and to see such a new aspect of the world.

-out here

Almost a year later, I resume

2008-04-08T02:02:00.000-07:00

Friends,

Several of you have asked me why I haven't written in so long. There is no great answer but I have decided that now is the time. I am writing from the jungles North of Dhaka, Bangladesh, as part of an exercise, "Shanti Doot" which is Bangla for "Ambassador of Peace." Specifically, I am currently in the Bangladesh Institute for Peace Support Operation Training or BIPSOT. Assigned as part of a seven member contingent from the Oregon National Guard that will serve as the command and control element for Exercise Shanti Doot, a UN Peacekeepers course designed to certify platoons from 12 nations in the tactics and procedures they will use in regional peacekeeping operations around the globe. Journeying from Brunei, Cambodia, Indonesia, India, Malaysia, Mongolia, Nepal, Sri Lanka, South Korea, the United States and Tonga, platoons from these nations will run through several lanes run by UN certified trainers.

This is a wonderful experience already. We have only been in country for less than a week and I have already seen the smiles of school children through the windows of their school buses, the craftsmanship of carvers and the love of families sharing love despite hardship.

The people of Bangladesh are so accomodating and to be deployed as part of this extraordinary opportunity is a once in a lifetime event. It is an honor to be here and I will write more as available.

Shanti Doot

-out here

First Farewells

2007-04-21T06:05:00.000-07:00

Today was the start of the hard part. I have grown very close to the Afghan officers that I have worked with daily over the last seven months. COL Hashim-hahn has literally become an uncle to me, a friend and wise elder that is closer than blood in many ways. COL Amin as well has been a big brother. Brigadier General Wardak, pictured here as I served up the Afghan soup, has been an incredible mentor himself. Since he assumed command of KMTC 18 months ago, it has grown at an extraordinary pace. His leadership has provided so much positive change to take place here in this institution and this country.

I have a picture that show vain smiles attempting to hide sadness.

It is personal but shows our mutual sense of loss. I hope to come back here again and reunite with them. We will bid our formal farewells here soon. I have a last date for Chai with them on Monday, where I will bid them a fond "Hoda-Afez" one last time, but this afternoon was tough.

From Kabul

-out here.

This is me with my Afghan Uncle, Colonel Hashim-Hahn.

Dwell Magazine

2007-04-20T01:30:00.000-07:00

Friends,

After approaching the Editors of Dwell Magazine (http://www.dwell.com) in late summer of last year, I heard from them regarding my interest in contributing an article to them about life in small spaces. Their current issue, May 2007, is out on stands now and features an article about my past year of living in an eight foot by eight foot room.

It is a real pleasure to be a featured contributor to one of my favorite magazines. Please pick up a copy if you see it. It is nice to draw attention to the living conditions that so many volunteers for overseas service and to recignize that, no matter the size, it is home.

-From Kabul

Relief in the wake of the Flood

2007-04-13T05:54:00.000-07:00

After about a week's worth of deliberate planning and organization, a team of the Training Assistance Group worked this week to provide some much needed relief to the victims of the first flood in fifteen years here in Kabul. Cleared by a local Chief of Police of District, we were able to assist 100 vetted families with their basic needs.

We departed in the afternoon, departing in several movements to get to our distribution site. Near to the Kabul Stadium where less than six years ago, the Taliban routinely and publicly executed women and men they had deemed uncommited to their cause, we set up our security and our distribution point as we had planned it. The operation was actually planned by our JAG and our intelligence officer, Capt. Scott Delius, of Atlanta, and Maj. Steve McLay, of Corvallis, respectively. Steve had coordianted with local police chiefs to properly vet out those that were in the most dire need. When we arrived, the Afghan Military Police security team, mentored by fellow Oregon National Guardsman, Maj. Chris Graves, had cleared the parking lot and cordoned off an area for our trucks to set up for the distribution of supplies. In one truck, we had bags of clothing. In another, we had bags of cooking basics, oil, salt and dehydrated milk. In the final truck was the big Hefty-sized bags of rice, flour and sugar. The unfortunate part of that was that these bags weighed about fifty to sixty pounds each and we were distributing them to families that were mostly women, old men and young children as most of the able bodied men were either at work or looking for work. Thus, we carried the bags for the citizens from the truck to the end of our distribution point, approximately 50 meters from the back of the truck. While it was a U.S. planned event the real heroes were the Afghan National Army Military Police and the Afghan Police Officers of the downtown district, as they were the ones that established the security, helped to hand out the supplies and managed the victims of the flood.

As this was downtown Kabul and an area of potential threat activity, we were fully armored at all times, a point I only mention because it was about 85 degree Farenheit that afternoon, a sign of things to come this summer and did we ever sweat...?!! It was a cooker. After the final truck, we laid out a collection of other supplies within a flannel blanket. A shovel head, a hammer, a saw, work gloves, a tarp, and a shovel handle (wooden pole). It made for a serious load of kit to cart away across the open Buzkhashi Stadium for certain. That said, we made it as easy as we could to those that needed relief the most.

Within an hour and a half, we had distributed over eight tons of food, clothing, shelter and supplies to help victims of the worst flooding in Kabul in the past fifteen years.

Most impressive to me was the ten year old boy leading a blind man through the distribution points. He carried each of the small bags himself, he led his father or uncle (it was unclear) to each point. At the final, before loading the sixty pounder myself, I wrapped up a bag with the supplies and handed them to the blind man. Cloudy blind eyes staring into the distance belied the joy he seemed to feel. He muttered something quietly in Pashto. The boy then said to me, "He say thank you, America Friend."

We made a difference and that is what we are here for.

From Kabul,

-out here

photos by Tech Sgt. Cecilio Ricardo and 1st Sgt. Don Weber

Independence Day Parade...practice

2007-04-05T05:22:00.000-07:00

Every year the Afghanistan National Security Forces, whether Army or Police, conduct a massive parade ceremony to commemorate their independence for Soviet occupation and independent rule. The parade practice takes a lot of time and effort as the officers, sergeants and Soldiers, want to make as positive an impression as possible to their country and to the world. COL Jim Lyman and I were invited by ANA Brig. Gen. Wardak to witness some of the rehearsal for the event downtown, alongside the senior leadership of the Afghan National Army. It reminded me of the parades we used to perform in the Berlin Brigade, whether U.S., British, French or Communist. Designed to demonstrate to the world our power and discipline. It was an incredible thing to see, thousands of Afghans marching downtown, proud, disciplined and organized. The actual parade will be within the month. We have also been invited to witness the event live. In the picture above, you can see the moon setting beneath the "Great Wall" of Kabul, high along the peaks surrounding the city. Built in 425 CE, the wall was built by Kabul-Shahan, as a defensive perimeter around the city to prevent eventual eventual Arab attacks. In the image below, the reviewing officers salute the Afghan National Colors as they pass in review.

Spring Break at the Alamo

2007-03-31T01:21:00.000-07:00

So one thing that the command group has done better at the Alamo than at any other location in Kabul is to get members of the team to enjoy working together as a coalition team. Due, above all else, to the relative security we have here in Kabul, the leadership was able to schedule a "Spring Break" party for members of the Training Assistance Group and their guests. In addition to the sea of coalition guests that prepared their own special dinners for the party, we hosted the Air Force Rock Band, Max Impact, for a concert that night. It surpassed our Halloween jaunt for festivity and was a great release from the daily grind.

Authorized to wear civilian clothes for the first time for many of us, Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen were able to relax and be themselves while enjoying great food and super music. The band even got me up on stage to join them on my Afghan drum. Once they started playing Earth, Wind and Fire tunes, it was sort of a must.

The following day, the band played for the Afghan privates on their day off. It was unquestionably the first time these guys had seen anything like it. It was a great day for the Afghans and a good day to share each others cultures.

Not my Oregon, but Our Oregon

2007-03-25T03:25:00.000-07:00

This afternoon as I was preparing for another meeting with my Afghan counterparts, I was cornered by a fellow Soldier that is preparing to leave Afghanistan after serving for a year training the ANA.

"Hey, Sir, how about if we take down that Oregon flag you've got hanging up here on The Alamo and burn it?" "What?" I asked. "Well if those bastards want to burn the American Flag and a mock up of a US Soldier I think that that is the least we should to to recognize their efforts."

He then explained the imagery going around the Internet of fringe idiots integrating into a rally in downtown Portland, Oregon. Burning a U.S. Flag and burning an effigy of a Soldier a group of about two dozen infiltrators tried to make a "statement" in what was otherwise a peaceful rally to oppose the fourth anniversary of the invasion of Iraq.

As an American Soldier serving in Afghanistan after mobilizations to Iraq and New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina and Lakes Charles immediately after Hurricane Rita, it is hard to look at imagery of the Arlnene Schnitzer Concert Hall with its big "PORTLAND" sign in lights serving as the backdrop for such ignoble disrespect and to know that this image somehow represents to now millions of people across the world what my state is all about.

But it is not our Oregon. Our Oregon is a place where our Governor sets the tone for all Governors in the United States by making it a policy to attend the funerals of each fallen service member to which the family offers him welcome (of the 84 to date, he has attended all but a handful). Our Oregon is a place where both sides, right, left and all those in between, have set a tone of civility in their disagreements. Whether the bold anti-McCarthyism of the late, great Democratic Senator Wayne Morris, or the recent questioning of motives for continuing our war in Iraq by Republican Senator Gordon Smith, we have found civil methods to express our opinions and ask questions of our leadership. What is fascinating to me is that Portland, Oregon had the largest, peaceful demonstration in the entire nation on the fourth anniversary of the invasion of Iraq. Yet a handful of idiots identifying themselves as anarchists crashes an event of this level of magnitude and that is then seen by some Drill Sergeant in Afghanistan that then recommends that we burn the Oregon flag because it somehow represents those people.

An Editorial written by a friend at The Oregonian reads in part:

The march through downtown Portland near the fourth anniversary of the invasion was a loud, colorful expression of this new majority sentiment. Old folks, children, men and women marched the streets in force, reinforcing the message of last November.

Marches like this are the way wars are fought in the arena of public opinion. But their message is tainted by the actions of a small group more keen on delivering an outrage than an argument. And because their actions fit the definition of outrageous, they provide grist for passionate people on both sides of the debate.

Sadly for the 15,000 or so, the sidebar demonstration undermines the dominant message of peaceful dissent. The goal of an anti-war march, it would seem, would be not to win over the most committed supporters of the war, because they won't be persuaded. And it's not to win over committed opponents, because they are already persuaded. It's to woo the great moderate middle of the electorate that decides the outcome of any national policy debate. And those members of the middle shrink from the callousness of a masked man burning an effigy of a soldier.

As the demonstrators surely know, this did nothing to advance an argument. Indeed, it contradicts the feelings of many anti-war protesters, who tend to believe that the people of the military have served honorably but have been misused by their government.

But if the words "Portland" or "anti-war protest" now conjure images of a burning effigy in uniform, then that is a shame.

______________________________

Much like the Taliban represents a very small portion of the population of Afghanistan, the "Anarchists" and their ludicrous message do not represent me or my home State of Oregon. They represent a small-minded, immature minority of ignorant fools looking for a vehicle to communicate their rage. Again, like the Taliban here in Afghanistan, they seem to want to do anything to draw greater attention to their cause than what actually exists.

The fools that made my city and state and, indeed nation look bad, are just fools running a fools errand. The Taliban would welcome their mindset here in Kabul.

From Kabul

“The willingness with which our young people are likely to serve in any war, no matter how justified, shall be directly proportional as to how they perceive the veterans of earlier wars were treated and appreciated by their nation.” - President George Washington

Na Ruz Salaun Mubarak

2007-03-23T03:46:00.001-07:00

The Muslim calendar is a lunar calendar much different than the Roman calendar that we use. As a consequent, we have been here not only for 2006-2007, but for 1585. Now, with the New Year, celebrated as Na'Ruz after the arrival of the New Moon, a cresent moon risinig over the clear skies welcomng a time of renewal.

My Deputy, Capt. Dan Miner and I, after working through many of the ongoing efforts of analysis of our redeployment plan with Lt. Cdr. Outcalt, Master Sgt. Persson and Sgt. 1st Class Ping, decided to enjoy the late afternoon sun by playing some frisbee. Once we realized the muddy gravel pit we were playing in wasn't the friendliest, we went over to the Afghan side of our compound with two frisbees and several bottles of water and asked the Afghan Soldiers to join us. Slowly, one by one, they came out onto the parade field and joined us in learning the basics of throwing the "Flying Disk" of the Whamo Corporation across the tarmack field that they use for marching practics and upon whihc they will graduate in the weeks to come.

They caught on quickly and were soon giving the two Americans a run for their efforts. We divided them into Team Sia and Team Sudz for Black and Green as some were in the black track suit they use as a PT uniform and the others were in their Army fatigues, which are predominantly green.

After playing for an hour, we took a break and talked. Fortunatley one of them was fluent in English and served as my "Tarjaman" or Interpreter. I told them how proud I was to serve with them and that, while we may be from different countries, we were now brothers as they became Soldiers. I held up my fingers separately and said, "Each one of these fingers is one of you. This one is Hazara. This one Pashtun. This one is Uzbek. And this one is Aimaq. This one is Turkmen. By themselves they are not very strong." I playfully sturck the Soldier closest with me with one finger then the next. "But together," I said balling my hand into a tight fist, "This is Afghanistan, with all of its people working together and it is strong and powerful." To make my point I simulated striking it as a blow to the chest of the closest Soldier, stopping as it actually made contact. "You are all one group now and are stronger for working together. As private Soldiers, you have the hardest job and must survive the roughest conditions, but the more you apply yourself and the better you learn your lessons of your sergeants, the better Soldiers you will become nad the better Afghanistan will become."

We continued to play for another hour (The guys on the Sia team won, man these guys are competitive) and I gave them one last rally before leaving. As I left, one of the Soldiers, my Tarjaman, asked if I had any American news magazines to practice reading English. He and another Soldier, originally Indian and older (23), asked for anything that would inform them about the world and in English. I grabbed some old copies of The Economist and Time as well as several copies of the ISAF newspaper printed in English, Dari and Pashto. It was very appreciated. I wished them a Happy New Year and reminded them that I would come back out to play with them again next Friday.

A good way to start a new year.

-From Kabul

Real Change Comes Slowly in the Land of the Mountains

2007-03-18T06:20:00.000-07:00

The mission of mentoring change within the Afghan National Army ANA is the primary mission of Combined Joint Task Force Phoenix. The Training Assistance Group or TAG, which I have been assigned to now for seven months, mentors the Kabul Military Training Center or KMTC. We are the school house. If Afghanistan were the United States, we would be Fort Benning: Basic Training, NCO Training and Officer Candidate School all in one.

The mission has expanded tremendously since we arrived here in the Spring of 2006. Then, the KMTC was graduating 650 private Soldiers each month into the ranks of the ANA. We are now graduating 2,000 every month. Despite exponential growth, the prioritization of effort goes to the war fighting units, most typically in the South and the East. While it is not impossible to build an Army while it is fighting a war (we have been helping the Afghans to do so for almost six years now and doing the same on a much larger scale back home simultaneously), it is not the preferred method. Given that the Afghan's culture is one built upon "Pashtunwali" a code of conduct for norms of etiquette as well as vengeance, it is not in their cultural norms to say "No" in any way shape or form to a superior. While we in the West are often hailed for the directness of our culture and our ability to respectfully disagree, the Afghans will typically take the path of least resistance if it means eithr losing face or causing a superior to lose face. Thus, when a General comes to visit the training center, it is seen as impolite to explain problems with resources and instead to allow him to focus on the shrubbery surrounding the Mosque.

Why does this have any bearing on the mission here? We have been doing hero's work here in training Soldiers, Noncommissioned Officers and Officers to a high standard, but we have been doing so with resources that are constantly in competition with our war fighting peers.

A Note: I write "We" because I consider "them" to be "us." I refer to my Afghan Colonel colleagues as my Uncle, Hashim and my Big Brother, Aziz. Their fight is my fight and they are my family. We have become that close.

In the past several weeks several of us have been trying to get our arms around this predicament: how to continue to grow the army while maintaining the high level of excellence from the institution without degrading the effort to supply trained officers and NCOs to the war fighting units in the field. As Coalition members, we have done our best to fight for the resources, both human, logistical and capitol, that will make our institution of greater value to the people of Afghanistan. Sometimes in not so polite terms, but usually with enough emphasis to make the point. Simultaneously, the Afghans have realized that now is the hour and have given in to the need to raise such issues to the senior leadership of the Army.

Well in the past two days, this place has been a General Officer Circus. There has been more Afghan Brass than I have ever seen outside of the Ministry of Defense. Enough voices have raised this concern that the leadership is finally making the changes that we have all anticipated for so long.

We expect to gain a considerable amount of human resources in a very short time, to better be able to train the Soldiers to a high standard before moving them into the fight. We have learned that many of the logistical resources (billetting, training areas, mess facilities and others) will be fast-tracked. It is as if the Lunar Eclipse has brought with it an emergent knowledge that not all worthwhile training can come from an "OJT" style of orientation once Soldiers hit the front. Almost as if the austerity we have faced in the past several months has been a necessary Evil, drawing attention to the plight of the Soldiers of KMTC, while the commanders and their garrisons waited patiently until the senior National level leadership was able to draw its own stark conclusions.

Whatever the cause of this turn of events, we here at KMTC, whether Afghan, American, British, French, Canadian, Ghurka, New Zealander, or Polish, are delighted to hear. Perhaps there is more to the Pashtunwali than we can ever understand.

Before arriving here in the land of the Hindu Kush, I learned an old Pashtun Proverb. It roughly translates: "For a hundred years, I waited to extract my vengeance. When I acted, my fathers' cursed my impatience."

For some things, we must wait a long time. Independence is something that will not happen on our timeline. But it is something the Afghans pray for. That and that we will be patient with them.

-From Kabul

Saint Patrick's Day; Golf and Lamb...Kebabs

2007-03-17T01:25:00.000-07:00

I could hardly pass the opportunity up. Major Ian Pruden, the Lead of our NonCommissioned Officer Training Team, and his Sergeant Major, WO2 Roman Cioma, had invited me to join them on Friday for a trip to the Kabul Golf Course with their Afghan Counterparts. I had heard that it existed from our Commanding General back in Camp Shelby, but getting the chance to actually see this level of progress in Afghanistan was something not to miss.

We left early in the afternoon, driving through downtown until we were to the Northwest of the City center. It was a quiet, cool day with a cloudy haze that mellowed the attitudes on this, the Afghan weekend. It took us about an hour to drive to the outskirts, all the while viewing a Kabul that evaded description from our seige mentality life within the confines of HESCO barriers and "Texas T" Walls. Sgt. Maj. Cioma had previously been stationed up in the North by Mezar E' Sharif and his driving was expert. We made it to the course, located in a heavily treed, grassy hillside up by the Kabul Reservoir. It is a place that Afghans come to enjoy time with their families, picnicing and playing in the cool, greenery and fresh air coming off the lake.

Shortly after we pulled in to the parking lot, we met up with Lt. Col. Sabor, the commanding officer of the NCO School at KMTC, and his executive officer and his Sgt. Maj. We then met the manager of the course, Abdul, who introduced us to our Caddies. Mine was an eleven year old boy named Jowid. We planned to join them on the course, but their idea was much more the camaraderie that came from sharing lamb kebabs and naan after we had exhausted our selves on the green. With Cioma as our body guard, we presented a secure posture, despite enjoying the relative relaxation. The clubs were old and filthy, the course lacked much of a green, but that fact that we were enjoying a low optempo day on a Golf Course in the capital city of the former home of the Taliban, seemed hard to believe.

I teed off from the peak, driving my first ball a couple of hundred

meters down range. That was one of about five great hits to come from my experience on the "Green" as I realized it had been 21 years since I had swung a club. The memory of my old Scottish friend Alasdair Watt echoing in my head from our time at New Mexico Military Institute together. We were out on the driving range in early 1986 and I damn near hit a Colonel with my ball. "Aye, Strong, A.V., yeoor no freakin' gulferrr, thas' fer shure, Lad. Ye jes' watch me fer now on." And, thus, 21 years later, yesterday, was the first time I had picked up a club since...seriously, a career Army Officer, not golfing.

I suffered through about five holes....suffered only because Alasdair's two decade old warning kept echoing truth in my game. If the course had not already been pockmarked and cut up from goats and the occassional landmine or cow bone, I would have been billed for the abuse I had offered it. Jowid, my reliable companion found my ball each time, whether he had to jump into the drainage ditch, look behind the inadvertent bush, or under the stray piece of barbed wire. He was a good kid. At one point, Ian Pruden had offered his interpreter a dollar if he out-distanced him in a tee. He never had to pay his 25 year old "Terp."

I offered the same to my eleven year old buddy. Not only did he outshoot me, his form and focus were impressive to witness, an Afghan Tiger Woods in a dirty jacket. At the end of our five holes, we rejoined our Afghan counterparts for a lunch of kebab under an enormous pine tree near the Golf Club House (identified by the spray painted title on the side of the building).

We rapidly immersed ourselves into an in-depth conversation of the state of affairs within the Afghan National Army, the situation we were facing at the school house of KMTC, and the current and near future environment of their country. After a delilcious afternoon meal of salted, grilled kebab, naan bread and fresh tomatoes, mint and onions, we prepared our departure. As we got ready to leave, Elias, the interpreter, offered us to stop at his father's home, quite near the course. We accepted and, after a short drive were greeted and welcomed warmly by his father, an Afghan Colonel in the Ministry of Defense.

We were seated on pillows on the floor and immediately offered hot chai, sweet honey cakes, nuts and raisins. We discussed each other's travels and the plight of Afghanistan for almost an hour. He reminded us that times like this are what make this visit worthwhile, getting to understand a foreign culture, broadening one's knowledge of the world. This from a former flight engineer who had travelled all over the Eastern world, a man who wanted his five children to see and experience as much as possible of the world, so that they could return to Afghanistan and make it a better, safer, place.

In the words of Sergeant Major, "This is quite a civilized way to spend a Friday afternoon, Sir."

Angleterre vs. France (RUGBY)

2007-03-11T09:01:00.001-07:00

It is Rugby Season and the big game for Camp Alamo is England versus France. We planned the event so that our French counterparts would return to Alamo for the evening's activities, near beer, Ghurka Cury plates and a widescreen viewing of the match. And what a game it was.

By the first half, France was up 12-9, but the second half was a quick-paced Enlighs defeat of the French. All this in a room of French and English Soldiers and Marines. The best part of the entire night was witnessing the opening of the game, with each room full of French and British singing their National Anthems.

During the game I had everyone present sign our official game ball (the same as used in teh match), with the winner signing in Silver Ink (Lt. Col. Charles Newitt had the honors).
A great match and a great night.

From Kabul

5,840 Days of Renewal

2007-03-10T00:01:00.000-08:00

Today, March 9th, was the 16th anniversary of my being married to Margaret Mary Towle. 5,480 days ago, we hosted about 150 friends and family in the shaded garden of our home in Los Feliz, in East Los Angeles beneath Griffith Park and its famous observatory. "The Villa," is an Art Deco era apartment complex that always reminded me of something you would see in a film noir from the 30's, much like Margaret. It was our home together while we studued English Literature at U.C.L.A. Palms swayed in the tradewinds as we were pronounced man and wife before parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, sisters, friends and those dearest to us, including many who now smile down upon us from the Heavens.

We have since lived in Berlin, Georgia, Hawaii, Olympia, Portland, and Salem. We have travelled across Europe, the United States and Mexico and even into Canada. We have danced in Prague, toasted Le Bon Nouvelle Année beneath the Eiffel Tower, walked the Maasai Mara in lion country in Kenya, hiked through the Olympic Forest, bathed in the Nordsee, overlooked the Grand Canyon, bodysurfed the North Shore, and laughed and loved on four continents.

I am so glad to share my life with such a bold spirit, elegant soul and beautiful woman as my dear beloved wife, Margaret. Sweet Heart, I miss your sweet carress and tender kiss.

Thank you for sharing your life with me for sixteen years. I love you.

From Kabul,

Arnold

A New Beginning of Hope

2007-03-03T08:23:00.000-08:00

Readers,

It has been too long since I have actively maintained this log of ideas and thoughts, experiences and adventures. Today was a unique day in our journey here as we were able to make a significant impact on the people of Afghanistan.

Due to the impact of war on this, one of the three poorest nations on our planet, the crisis of refugees is epic. Many refugees flee from the more violent states to find homes in calmer areas. Many flee the country and cross the Pakistani border, like so many of their previous generation. However, Pakistan has started to crack down on the border crossings and has limited its openness to Afghans.

Here at the Kabul Military Training Center, or KMTC, we have a range complex of over 14,000 acres. While much of this land is occupied with various firing lanes and ranges for small arms, crew served and indirect fires lanes, there is also areas that are predominantly used for maneuver exercises. some of this land has been used as a refugee camp for the past several months. The camp, now home to over 1,500 refugees of Southeastern provinces, exists on the Eastern border of the KMTC property.

Our public affairs officer, 1st Sgt. Don Weber, a close friend and experienced soldier, has been working with his Afghan counterparts over the past month, trying to coordinate an effort to alleviate some of the suffering of these homeless poor that live here among us. His efforts and those of the Afghan National Army soldiers he has worked with, came to fruition this morning.

Coordinating with the donated supplies manager at Bagram Airfield (BAF), home of our higher headquarters, the CJTF-76, Weber requested several tons of much needed food basics. Weeks later, we received over four tons of cooking oil, wheat, salt, sugar, and flour. On Friday, Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Afghan Soldiers distributed the food stuffs into over 200 individual "Family Packs" so that each family on the list would get some of each of the supplies. Further, we packed over 200 two gallon sized plastic bags full of donated children's clothing, socks, jackets, blankets and stuffed animals. By the end of the afternoon, the team had filled two full CONEX Trailers full of supplies.

Initially we had planned to do our relief mission earlier this week. However, the weather dictated otherwise. It snowed and, though it cleared up the following day, it left a muddy pit where we had planned to distribute the food. The delay also gave us some time to continue to plan our mission. We would now conduct our mission on Saturday morning. The weather looked to be good and that would give us three days for the mud to dry out.

We got up early this morning only to see that it had been snowing since about 4:00 a.m. By the time we got over to the CONEX's to start loading the supplies in our seven and a half ton "International" trucks, the snow was coming down thick and wet. Our mission would take us on a several mile drive with over a dozen vehicles sent downrange in several serials. It was going to be cold and wet.

I gathered everyone together for a final review of our operational plan, reviewed key items like uniform (we would keep our armored vests, helmets and eye protection on), time lines, threat conditions and contingency plans in case we were to be engaged by enemy activity. Finally, we reviewed the most important rehearsal of any operations, "Actions on the Objective." In other words, how we would distribute the supplies.

My advanced team left at 8:00 a.m. along with the Military Police Officer, Maj. Chris Graves, and his team of 40 Afghan Military Police, loaded up in four Ford Ranger Pick-ups. We drove out through the snowy range, seeing lots of Afghan Army training happening in the frozen high desert. When we arrived in the area of the town, we had a problem we had not anticipated...the Malik (or mayor) that we had planned on linking up with to help us control the distribution and crowds was not there. Apparently five goats had either escaped the night before or had been stolen from their pen. This left us to deal with the brother in law of the Malik, a man named Wazir, likely for the province he came from. Through our interpreters, we explained our plan and that we would need his help to get the supplies distributed and the people controlled. We had a list of personnel that the Malik had approved earlier and we planned to call names and send people approved forward in order to maintain control of the maddening crowd.

Eventually, the Malik arrived and we explained our plan. We would have two distribution points, one for food, one for clothing. Our Chaplain's assistant, Specialist Henson, another great member of the team...how many Army Specialists, never mind Chaplain's Assistant's own their own Steakhouse restaurants in Kentucky?... Well, Henson (Coded named "Salvation Six") would do his best to control the kids and distribute candy and tooth brushes.

That rapidly spun out of control, as the grabbing and pushing and pulling and fighting is part of these kids lives. Henson did an admirable job of keeping them under control, withholding the goodies if they started to act poorly.

The food and clothing distribution, although we had some headaches with it initially, went very well. We had a solid security effort, and everyone had a job to do.

It took us about two hours once we got set up to get all of the supplies distributed and spread as much relief to these people as we could.

At the end of the effort, I asked the two Maliks and two of the elders to come forward. For their assistance and leadership, I presented each of them with a quilt that had been sewn by my mother and her friends of the Bandon Quilter's Guild. They were given to them to share with their wives and mothers and daughters. I explained that each of them had been woven by hand by fellow mothers and daughters back home and that the women would likely appreciate them most. The Malik, after kisses to my cheeks had firm handshakes and hugs, explained that he would give the quilt I had offered him to his mother in law, as she was always concerned that he wasn't providing enough for her...smart man.

Overall, we were about seventy people doing the best to make a difference to those that need the help the most. All of us felt that we made a difference and that was made the day into a great one.

We reloaded our vehicles, moved to an Rally Point away from the plying hands of the children, got a solid accountability and started our convoy back home. Once we arrived, we exited the vehicles, had a brief discussion about the pros and cons (we call this an AAR for After Action Report) of the day, then invited our Afghan counterparts to join us for an American Style lunch.

I think Captain Miner even got our interpreter, Zabih, to have some French Fries (It was not hard...college student, french fries?)

From Kabul,

Arnold

An Explanation - Fourth New York Times Entry

2007-01-22T08:44:00.000-08:00

It has been over two months since my last post to this blog. In November, I was contacted by an editor for the New York Times online who had been following my blog for some time. Editor Peter Catapano asked if I would be interested in providing content to the nytimes.com website for a month as one of four contributors that were serving in Afghanistan. After getting the approval of my chain of command, I agreed. The posts were written over the course of four weeks from November 19th (my birthday) until December 16th.

The content I wrote for the New York Times was proprietary and I agreed not to repost any of the material for a month following the date of publication. As they are now eligible to be reproduced, I offer them up now for your review. This entry and the following three were originally published on the New York Times subscription service "TimesSelect" and ran between 20 November and 15 December, 2006. There is a problem with posting some of the photos to these files due to some internet connection challenges, but I will update them with the pictures that were posted on the nytimes.com website as soon as I am able.

Shortly after I finished my contract with the New York Times, I was able to take a mid-tour leave at home with my family over the Christmas holiday. It was a wonderful release and I will offer a quick post in the near future about that. In the mean time, thanks for being patient friends and thanks for encouraging me to continue writing.

From Kabul,

Arnold

Author:Arnold Strong
December 14, 2006, 8:58 pm
Not Your Typical Hero
By Arnold Strong

United States Army First Lt. Shawn Hammond is not your typical junior infantry officer. He is a big man, with a high forehead crowed with brown hair rapidly turning to salt and pepper. Having just turned 40, he has been a single father of three boys — aged 15, 14 and 8 — for years, although he remarried just before this deployment. He left active service over ten years ago, remaining in the Ready Reserve. After finishing his master’s degree in psychology, Hammond attended law school with the goal of coming back in as a JAG (judge advocate general). However, after setting up a practice he did not return to the active reserve because he felt his civilian role as sole attorney for a battered women shelter in Augusta, Ga., assumed greater importance.

Nothing would lead anyone to believe that his actions would be a key element of the defense of a forward operating base in the Pech River Valley, a combat infantry officer leading a dozen soldiers in an hour-long firefight.

In the summer of 2005, he got his letter in the mail, ordering him to active duty as an individual augmentee. After training at Fort Benning, Ga., and Camp Shelby, Miss., he joined the staff of the Training Assistance Group at Kabul Military Training Center. Assigned in early 2006, he has served as the deputy personnel officer, basically the military equivalent of an assistant human resources manager for our team. As an additional duty he has assisted with the security forces platoon in their routine patrols in and around our sector. Last weekend, he joined a platoon in inspecting their area of operations in the vicinity of Asadabad in the Pech River Valley in eastern Afghanistan.

As part of their tour, the security platoon stopped to bring much needed supply items and conduct basic presence patrols while inspecting the readiness and defensive perimeters of several remote F.O.B.’s. Each F.O.B. is manned by a team of U.S. soldier mentors that advise a platoon of Afghan National Army soldiers. After traveling down what is widely called “the eighth most dangerous road in the world,” Hammond’s team hunkered down for the night at one of the F.O.B.’s. He and a dozen troops that were preparing to rotate out of this area did one last security inspection before bedding down for a night that none of them will soon forget. In his own words, Hammond offered “Those taking a beating were getting one last beating before they left.”

At around 6:30 p.m. the soldiers discovered the first sign of what was to come. One of them found that the wire outside the major line of defense had been cut and a path cleared in order to crawl under the wire. The soldier alerted Hammond. He ordered the men to fix the wire without using any flashlights. “I thought that if we repaired (the enemy’s) entry point without their knowledge, we could fix them and destroy them … so we were waiting for them,” Hammond later said.

Later in the evening the security patrols saw lights on the mountain that surrounded their position. At 11 p.m., the team increased their security posture. Intelligence had informed the unit that there was a 30-man anti-coalition militia accompanied by a local Taliban leader, conducting cross border operations. Further, there had been a confirmed attack in the area just the previous day, where militia members had killed four teachers for daring to instruct girls in basic literacy. As terrible as this seems, it is one of the main tactics of terror used by the enemy we face every day here. In other words, it is an unfortunate factor of this war that many of us have gotten used to. The challenge for the platoon in this instance was that many of the Afghan soldiers normally based in the F.O.B. with their American counterparts had been sent away to hunt for the men who had murdered four teachers, leaving the F.O.B. with much less than its usual line of defense. But being in a reinforced F.O.B., surrounded by HESCO barriers (dirt filled four foot wide walls) the platoon thought we were safe.

It was about 2 a.m. when those not pulling security were brought to full alert with a startling alarm clock. Mortars were being walked into the F.O.B. The entire compound was manning security positions within five minutes. While the first two mortar rounds fell short of their target, it did not take long for the enemy to adjust his fires.

“I was just outside the tactical operations center when the third round came in about sixty meters from my location. The flash surprised me,” said Hammond. “The overpressure from the blast definitely impacted the first sergeant and I but no one was hurt,” he concluded.
But the men were ready for this attack and quickly moved to their designated positions. With five HMMWV’s (High Mobility, Multi-Wheeled Vehicle, commonly referred to as Humm-Vees) in position, the gunners rapidly got into position behind their crew served weapons., the M-240B and the “Ma Deuce,” .50 caliber machine guns.

Hammond, an expert marksman, moved to a position between two of the vehicles on the perimeter with an SVD Dragonov rifle. In hindsight, he said “it seemed like a good thing to bring.” His men were very glad for his foresight. The weapon, a Soviet-era sniper rifle is incredibly accurate once zeroed when wielded by a sharpshooter. Of his talent with a rifle, the 40-year-old lieutenant said plainly, “When you’re fat, you need to be a good shot, because ya’ ain’t going to be able to run away.”

He continued: “I went to the HESCO wall and started firing upon the Taliban positions based on the muzzle flashes that we could clearly see up on the mountainside. I had the 1SG right next to me. So I was spotting the positions with the tracer fire and enabling the SECFOR guys to direct their fire,” he said. The Dragonov was loaded with tracer rounds, thus enabling others to target their fires on where the “fireworks” are going.

The problem, which soon became evident, was that in helping to pinpoint the enemy positions, the Hammond also gave away his own location for the mortar men in the hills, “which really wasn’t a good feeling,” he said.

The only protection available for the lieutenant and his senior non-commissioned officer was the HESCO barrier to their immediate front. With enemy fire cracking over their heads and all alongside them, the gunners of the machine guns began to synchronize their fires, maintaining the rhythm and keeping the enemy’s heads down.

The enemy finally got a bead on the position of the de facto platoon leader’s position, and brought a mortar round six feet in front of his position. Violently thrown to the ground, the lieutenant and his first sergeant were temporarily deafened by the ringing in their ears and disoriented by the thunderous pounding in their heads. “I was trying my best not to vomit,” said Hammond, reflecting the common feeling soldiers experience when bombarded with “danger close” mortar fire. The disorientation is so strong that it makes you feel like an astronaut in training. It is an act of extreme will not to lose control. Had it not been for the four-foot thick protection of the HESCO, the two of them would likely have not lived to tell their story.
Hammond recovered to his fighting position. Not typically an ill-tempered or foul mouthed man, “I just started swearing at them with every curse in the book, as if they could hear me from 800 meter away,” he recalled.

Once Hammond had spent his ammo, he quickly became an ammo bearer for the other gunners. Over the course of an hour-long engagement, the soldiers defending the F.O.B. spent 4,000 rounds.

After almost exactly an hour, the fire stopped and the lights disappeared from the ridgeline. It seemed to the platoon that the threat had retreated east, in the borderlands between Afghanistan and Pakistan. They maintained their full security posture for about an hour, and conducted an AAR (After Action Review) of the activities, checking equipment and each other for potential injuries. Amazingly, no one was injured.

None of the platoon members slept after the engagement. After ensuring the security of the F.O.B., they headed back to Kabul via Jalalabad, leaving around 9 a.m. At around 4 in the afternoon, the group returned to Camp Alamo here in Kabul where we learned the story of the previous night’s activities.

The story of Shawn Hammond is an interesting one to me because it is an example of the stories that are rarely told. It is the story of those members of the Individual Ready Reserve, for all intents and purposes, members who are names in a database available for duty at the order of the President of the United States. These are men and women who had served in active or reserve forces, then returned to civilian life. There are many members of the I.R.R. active now, having been called to service in this conflict. Some have found loopholes to get out of returning to service or taken advantage of opportunities to resign. But the great majority of them have answered the nation’s call and mustered out for duty.

Lieutenant Hammond was not planning on valorous deeds when he answered the call. He initially tried to explain to the Army his extenuating circumstances. But when his orders came, he met the challenge and got to work.

His story is just one of many from this front, the place where the global war on terror began. Afghanistan is turning a page in its history and no matter how many naysayers or “realists” there are that call for more troops and more resources, I can tell you that this nation is already succeeding due in part to the efforts of citizen-soldiers answering the call of duty.

3rd New York Times Entry

2007-01-22T08:41:00.000-08:00

December 6, 2006, 6:26 pm
Renovating for the Future
By Arnold Strong

Thanksgiving week provided a snapshot of the sort of work we do beyond our basic tasks of building the Afghan army and providing security.

We started the week with our first step in a humanitarian assistance project that we had been working toward for some time. In August, my commander Col. Jim Lyman and I met an Afghan-American woman, Salma Seraj, who runs a charity called Tomorrow’s Women and Children of Afghanistan. Revolving around the urgent need for improved health care for infants, proper maternity care for pregnant women, and the general improvement of pediatric medicine in her native country, Ms. Seraj, while based in Washington, D.C., does most of her work in Kabul. She spoke to us about the needs of a particular project here in Kabul, the Esteqlal (“Independent”) Hospital, the second largest in the nation’s capital. One of the wards needed to have new windows, plumbing and electrical work, but more immediately, it needed to be cleared of debris, cleaned and painted. Col. Lyman saw a way that he could help.

After writing a letter home to friends about the plight of these people, a fraternity brother from his alma mater, Oregon State University, contacted Col. Lyman, informing him that he knew how to help. As the president of a construction and engineering firm in the Pacific Northwest, he worked with Portland-based Miller Paint to donate 500 gallons of paint, tarps, brushes and rollers. Another fraternity brother was the C.E.O. of Blackwater, Inc., the defense contractor, who transported the paint and equipment overseas on one of their routine missions to Afghanistan. The end result of these efforts, after months of slow progress, was realized late last month.

About thirty of us from the Training Assistance Group and Kabul Military Training Center left after breakfast on a multi-vehicle convoy from eastern Kabul to the western side of town, an adventure itself. A large group of soldiers from the Afghan National Army, along with United States sailors, airmen, soldiers, officers and non-commissioned officers arrived to the wary looks of scores of patients waiting to be seen and doctors surprised at the size of our effort. After some hesitation to comprehend that we truly were there to assist in redeveloping a ward of the hospital on our “day off,” the administrator showed us a room full of stacked, rusting, old medical equipment, mixed in with broken wooden pallets, and items that could probably be considered hazmat — old bed pans!

The sergeants and petty officers, as usual, were ready for the officers to give them some general direction and then get out of the way; these men and women were ready to get to work. With the arrival of Ms. Seraj, our intentions were given a spokesperson that could cut to the chase, explaining to the staff that, yes, we were here as promised and were going to get the work done. With some quick guidance from the hospital leadership, we started.

Working on Esteqlal Hospital. Photo by First Sgt. Don Weber.

We removed the debris and separated it into “re-use” and “junk” areas, and rapidly broke into teams of demolition, clean, search and prep crews. The engineers tore apart the rotting the plywood structure in the corner of the largest room and removed the molded bathtub. The taller of us stretched our arms to reach the ceilings with scrub pads and Simple Green, wiping away months of dust and grime. Others sealed off the windows, door frames and heater units with tape while others prepared the painting materials. Within two hours we had removed the grime and started to see the potential of this building. Within four hours, we had a painting party that covered our hair with flecks of white primer and showed signs of progress. Within six hours, we had transformed the building inside and out.

The most essential element of this whole project was doing it hand in hand with our Afghan counterparts. The patients at the hospital and the staff saw that this was an effort of partnership. They saw that this was task that could not be accomplished alone, but only through rolling up our sleeves and getting dirty together. There is an unfortunate consequent to doing too much for a nation that needs help. Often it creates apathy and the expectation that nothing can be done without it being done for you.

Phase one was complete. Now we needed to commit to come back and put on the second coats of paint and get a commitment from one of the contractors to finish the plumbing and electrical work. It made for a great way to share “Black Friday.” In the words of First Sgt. Curtis Watts, “I give thanks that I’m doing this here instead of fighting other people over shopping deals in some mall back home.”

A Loss

Two days later, I got the call. There would be a task-force-wide blackout. That could only mean one thing. We had lost a member of the task force.

Our flag was lowered to half-staff and we patiently waited for word from the south, to learn the details of the incident. On the following afternoon, I learned that we had lost Second Lt. Scott Lundell. A 35-year-old junior officer who joined the Utah Army National Guard comparatively late in life, Lieutenant Lundell was a husband and father of four who was killed as a member of an embedded training team, working with the Afghan National Army in the field against a resurgent Taliban. The engagement lasted almost nine hours.

At the memorial service held at our headquarters, Camp Phoenix, Lieutenant Lundell was eulogized by his own governor. As it happened, four state governors — Jon Huntsman Jr. of Utah, Ted Kulongoski of Oregon, Jon Corzine or New Jersey, George Pataki of New York — were in Afghanistan visiting soldiers from their home states and had arrived only that afternoon. Kulongoski and Huntsman were here in Kabul, while Corzine and Pataki visited soldiers of Upstate New York’s 10th Mountain Division, headquartered in Bagram, to our North. Huntsman attended the service, and his calm, confident but somber voice recalled a servant of state and nation.

On the following day, we were visited at Camp Alamo by the two governors. Kulongoski had won re-election only weeks before. He has been a stalwart supporter of the Oregon National Guard and the military in general, having attended over 70 funerals of our fallen comrades and almost all of our mobilization and redeployment ceremonies. His encouraging words of support and news from home were greatly appreciated.

Since then we have been treated to the real start of winter. It has been snowing here for the past two days. It is cooling off, both heads and hands, mountains and valleys. The mountains that ring Kabul are white, hiding the dismal, dusty grey of wartime that lies just under the surface.

2nd New York Times Entry

2007-01-22T08:38:00.000-08:00

November 27, 2006, 10:13 pm
Making It Work, Giving Thanks
By Arnold Strong

Kabul, Afghanistan – The Afghan Soldiers march across the parade field every day at four o’ clock in the afternoon. On a recent afternoon, the light was extraordinary, clearly illuminating the white caps of the mountains that enclose Kabul’s Eastern frontier, the foothills of the Hindu Kush brilliantly on display, as the newest foot soldiers of the Afghan National Army marched along, Soviet Style, bringing in the thunder.

As the main force in the transformation of the Afghan National Army, the Kabul Military Training Center is not only building the military from the ground up, it is also teaching and communicating to the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan the importance of building its own internal defense. Consequently, hardly a week goes by that we are not hosting visiting dignitaries, both Afghan and coalition. In the month and a half since I got here, we have hosted the speakers of both the lower (elected) and upper (appointed) houses of the Afghan Parliament, over a dozen visiting general officers, a survey team from NATO headquarters in Belgium, and many others.The visits often impart to the guests how very much has been accomplished in the four years that this institution has existed, but the challenges we experience every day are hard to communicate to an audience that so desperately wants to see success. We are building an army while it is fighting a war. We are mentoring Afghans, and trying to convince them to consider themselves Afghans rather than to exclusively identify themselves by tribe or ethnicity. We are doing this with fewer resources than those being provided to Iraq, fewer than those poured into Bosnia, and frankly, fewer than we need to get the job done in an efficient manner.

But it does us no good to make comparisons with Iraq. We have our job to do with the resources we have. In the words of our commander, Brig. Gen. Douglas Pritt, “What we can do is what’s going on today: build the Afghan National Army and make a difference for the citizens of this country.”

Some Celebrations

On Thanksgiving, we invited our Afghan counterparts to partake in the feast and the Kellogg Brown and Root (K.B.R.) contractors did us right. Even on our forward operating base, they brought us all the fixings. Turkey and ham, steak and shrimp, fruits and nuts, sweet potatoes, rice and beans, salads, pies and even ice cream from Baskin Robbins. It is great to appreciate the bounty provided to these soldiers and sailors, airmen and marines all far from home, and amazing to understand the Herculean effort it takes to deliver such a feast. Seeing the joyful smiles of some of our Afghan workers enjoy the dinner (and the sparkling grape juice) was a treat, sharing a smile and a bit of turkey, giving thanks for each others’ work, appreciating the blessings we share as family for each other when we are all so far from our own loved ones.
Arnold Strong, far right, with two Afghan workers on Thanksgiving.

The Thanksgiving feast.

Last week was not only Thanksgiving. It was also my 39th birthday.
I received a hazelnut torte from my wife in the mail. She had also included a mason jar of a home-made chocolate sauce for icing. Miraculously, it made it here in six days. Typically, it takes 10 ten days on the button for a package from Oregon to arrive in Kabul. As a result, it was moist and fresh. I had hoped to share it with some of my colleagues after our weekly meeting at the Ministry of Defense. But that optimistic notion was dealt a dose of reality by an imminent threat warning from our intelligence officer. After learning that a suicide bomb attack along a route often used by coalition troops was likely, our commander banned all non-essential traffic. So we were stuck on base for the day.

“It is all fine until someone gets stuck in the eye,” goes the old saying. Here, it’s a little different. It is all fine until an I.E.D. blows up on the main supply route.

Then we are all reminded that we really are in a war zone.

An Explanation...1st New York Times Entry

2007-01-22T08:03:00.000-08:00

November 19, 2006, 5:26 pm
Waiting for the Thaw
By Arnold Strong

Kabul, Afghanistan – My name is Arnold Strong. I am an Army officer assigned in Afghanistan as the chief of training and operations for the Training Assistance Group that advises the Kabul Military Training Center on Kabul’s easternmost stretch of Jalalabad Road. My responsibilities are split about 60-40 between mentoring my Afghan counterpart and being the operations chief for my coalition headquarters. Brits, Yanks, Canucks, Irishmen, Kiwis, Frenchmen and Romanians, all of us rolled into a collective whole of trainers and mentors to our Afghan brothers. We are men and women from seven countries and all branches of military service tasked with training an army so it can train itself.

A convoy patrol through southwest Kabul, with the Darulaman King’s Palace in the background.

I left my home in Salem, Ore., in March for a three and a half month train up at Camp Shelby, Miss., before arriving here in late June. On Father’s Day this past June, one day before I started my own commencement toward the Hindu Kush, I delivered the commencement address to the graduating class of U.C.L.A.’s Department of English, the largest in the nation. My wife and I had graduated from the program in 1990 and I guess there was something timely to having an Army officer alumnus speak about what you do with an English degree on the day before he deployed to a war zone. It made an impact on me, and I hope on the newly graduated members of “the real world” to see so many faces full of hope. My main theme to them on what to do with an English degree was to “Write. Write. Speak. Read. And write.”

The hardest part of all of this, of course, was leaving my family behind — again. When I broke the news to my two sons, aged 12 and 8, the oldest said, “I hate my life.” Then after a long pause of tears and sobs, he continued, “You already went to the war and you went to the hurricanes and you go away all the time and I don’t want you to leave.” I don’t know if it hurt me to hear his words and see the pain in his eyes so much as it floored me that an 12-year-old could so confidently and articulately express his grief. The youngest cried his way to sleep in my arms that night.

It was different with my wife. She is a mature and self-confident woman and she knows that I have been a soldier since before we first met, but it does not make it any easier to be away from her. She is a constant calm in the darkest hours of this journey, the one voice that brings me peace in this crazy land of improvised explosives and suicide-bomber tendencies borne of hopelessness and despair. I miss her and my boys, but have a mission to do. The more I deploy myself into this role, the faster the time goes by, the sooner I am home with them again.
Back home, I served as an executive at a public company until our unit, the 41st Brigade Combat Team of the Oregon National Guard, was mobilized for this deployment. I resigned from my position with the company before deploying on this mission. Why, you might ask? Well, despite the fact that I had already served in Iraq in 2004 and 2005, this mission, this team, this opportunity was hard to turn away from. My team had already served together in the wakes of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita and trials like that make for tight bonds of trust and confidence in your leadership. And with an opportunity to travel with this same team to the land of the Hindu Kush, to meet the Hazara, Pashtun, and Uzbek peoples, to learn Dari-Farsi and drink chai with the elders, all while training an army that we would not abandon, that yearned for our support and experience, seemed to me to be a rare gem in the constant operational tempo of the modern Army.

It is an interesting time here. Although I have been in country for five months, I have only been in this position for the past five weeks. Immediately prior to serving as the operations officer mentor to KMTC, I served as the task force public affairs officer, or P.A.O. When asked to contribute comments to this blog, I jumped at the opportunity to work the other side of the headlines, to report my own thoughts and assessments. The last events I worked as a P.A.O. were a dismounted patrol escorting Terry Moran of ABC News Nightline and giving a post I.E.D. interview to Al-Jazeera. As I said, it has been an interesting tour so far, and I am not even at the halfway point.

Sunset, Nov. 12

The seasons are starting to turn. There were still remnants of summer until last week, then Thursday and Friday it rained and suddenly the sun was replaced by clouds and cold, wet air, which was refreshingly reminiscent of the weather back home in Oregon. It seems the violence has quieted somewhat as well. We need to enjoy the quiet while we can. After winter’s numbing of the hatred and malicious intent of the enemy, we will likely see a Taliban spring offensive more aggressive than any other, if our estimates are correct.

And they usually are.

And so winter begins

2006-11-16T05:09:00.000-08:00

The rains have hardly stopped in the past several days. It is getting colder every day. The Afghan soldiers huddle with their hands in their pockets and heads tucked into their shirts. It seems that it is going to be a cold winter.

I received a package from my Godmother earlier this week. A loaf of her famous Zuchinni bread, wrapped so tightly in foil and ziplocks that it was still very moist. I shared half of it with my office mates, the rest I brought down to the "Five Story" our word for the Afghan National Army Headqarters of KMTC and shared it with the soldiers and officers of the G-3 staff. They were delighted. It was nice to "break bread" with these men and to realize that we all share in each other's hospitality. Each day, I am served almonds and raisins, pistacchios and other snacks with the ever present Green Chai as we discuss our training plans and objectives.

In the words of my British counterpart, Maj. Tony Lancashire "We must'nt forget the importance of the Chai, Ahnald. It is about the only escape these blokes have from their daily druggery." Ah, Chai.

The snow is clear on the mountain tops surrounding Kabul. It will hopefully bring some peace to the fighting and some time to recover and prepare for the Spring, which we all anticipate will be a very difficult one. For now, a cup of tea to ward off the cold.

-out here

Darulaman, Ruin of Lost Royalty

2006-11-13T05:09:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, several of the key leaders of the Training Assistance Group made a trip out to Darulaman at the Southwestern corner of Kabul to inspect the Afghan National Army post there and to evaluate it for additional purposes. After a trip through the center of the city, which is never an easy tour, we arrived on the far side of town. It had rained intermittently for two days and the skies had finally broken open with sunlight. The dust and smog of the bowl of Kabul, so much like the environment of Los Angeles in the 1960's, had been tamed for a short while and the air lacked its acrid taste and smell.

Driving along the Kabul River, we are an instant spectacle in this urban ruin. Two M114 Fully UpArmored Hummers, gunners up and loaded for bear, each vehicle over five tons of hardened steel outside and sardine can tight chassis on the inside. With a six and a quarter foot frame encased in its own fifty pounds of body armor, then stuffed into the driver's seat, it makes me look forward to a visit (or six) to my Portland chiropractor, Dr. Kelsall, on my return from this tour. I like to drive, both in general and while on patrol here in Kabul. I trust my skill, but it also gives me a sense of situational awareness with the ability to do something about it if that awareness realizes danger.

After splashing through pond-sized puddle after pond-sized puddle of muddy brown water we came upon it, the Rubbled ruin of the King's Palace. Built in the 1920's in a time of liberalization of attitudes toward the West, it was a target for three decades of civil war and particularly during the 1990's. Nothing but the frame remains in much of the structure, a ghost of its previous splendor. Further up the road, the Queen's palace is not much better, through from her perch atop a hillside, her violation is more clearly witnessed by the passing crowds.

It is beside this shell of "what once was" that one of the brigades of the Afghan 201st Corps makes its headquarters. Like a sentinel at a tomb, the expanding Afghan base develops every day, its views unobstructed from its perch at the foot of the mountains. The American trainers, although based at their own FOB (Forward OPerating Base) have the view at the left, every morning, an ominous reminder of Afghanistan's past grandeur and current plight, a state at war with itself.

At the end of our mission, my deputy, Capt. Dan Miner and I got some practical exercise in conducting "Afghan Intramurals." Seeing a game of Volleyball in progress, we walked over to inspect and were immediately pulled into the game, becoming the permanent servers for the entire game. Dan and I are trying to work with the Religious and Cultural Affairs Officer in developing an extracurricular activities program for the soldiers here at KMTC. From Thursday at noon until early Saturday morning, there is little for these young soldiers to do. Many do what soldiers do, talk, sleep or get into trouble with each other. We are hoping to offer them a few alternatives, from competitive soccer and volleyball to traditional music and dance instruction (The graduation dance is uniquely Afghan), to artistic competitions in painting murals in the common areas. we will see how it turns out, but we are off to a good start. These men want to know that they are our peers, ready to fight when it is time to fight and ready to play when it is time to play. Yesterday was a day to play and, championed by a lanky Hazara with an awesome spike and his set-partner, a teen aged Pashtun, my team won!

As we all said to each other as we high fived each other on the way off the court, "Yak Team, Yak Jang!" One Team, One Fight!

-out here.