166 Days: My Journey Through The Darkness (7 page)

5 June 2008

We finally left for our firebase after nearly a month and a half of waiting. Even though my deployment was 1/6 of the way over, it felt like it was the first day. My nerves were all over the place as I anticipated the future. We had been waiting and waiting and preparing as best as we could and the moment had finally arrived. As Becky and I packed we tried to comfort each other as best we could; knowing we were both thinking of the same things.

“Are we going to be okay out there? I mean, surely they’re prepared for us being there, right?” Becky asked.

“I sure hope so. What do you think our husbands would say if they knew where we were going?” I responded.

“I think they would say: Are you
serious
? You are sending our wives
where?”
she laughed.

“I know. I honestly think Greg would lose his mind if he knew what I was about to do.”

“Mike would be on the phone with his congressman!” she joked. “Seriously, Jenn- I mean Lt. Clark,” she stumbled.

“Becky, in all honesty, we’re beyond formalities now. Knowing where we are going, you have absolute permission to call me Jenn.”

“Ok, but I still respect your rank, and the fact you’re an officer. Seriously,
Jenn
, I am so thankful it’s you I am going out there with. I can’t think of any other provider I would be more comfortable working with.”

“Thank you,” I said through my tears. “I honestly feel the same way about you. We’re going to be ok; in fact, we are going to be
great
. We will take so much away from this, and working together as a team is going to be a great experience for us.”

“You are so right,” she said.

I gave her a big hug. We both held on as tightly as we could, knowing our bond was already stronger than either of us could have anticipated. As we embraced, I couldn’t help but question what I’d just said. I meant everything, I just hoped I wasn’t lying; that it
would
be a great experience for us both, but I knew only time would tell.

I packed as many of my belongings as I could into a 2x3 foot locker, my duffle bag, and a backpack. I also had to carry both my M9 and M4 with my body armor. All of the gear and belongings made up quite a load for me to tackle. Luckily, we had some friends see us off at the terminal who helped carry our things. Prior to our departure we had to go by the personnel office and fill out some “paperwork”.

When we arrived, we were given a stack of documents containing several questions I never wanted to answer.
If killed in the field, who would you like to escort your body home? What type of ceremony do you request at your funeral? What would you like to be done with your remains? Do you have any wishes for your personal belongs
?

As I filled out the paperwork I felt sick. There was a real possibility I could
die.
After I completed what seemed like a never-ending list of unimaginable questions, we were escorted to the next hut over. We needed to take a picture in front of the flag in case there was a need for a memorial service. As I stood in front of the flag, I wondered:
Do I smile? Should I look serious? How would I want people to remember me?
I decided to smile and before I knew it the Army Private snapped the photo.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“Yes ma’am, that’s it,” he said.

I prayed it was a good shot and my eyes weren’t closed or I had a goofy look on my face. I certainly hoped, now of all times, that the young Private caught my “good side.”

We left on a C-130, yet another aircraft to add to my ever-growing list of military aircraft I had flown on. As I walked onto the plane, a fellow Air Force member, whom I soon discovered was the crew chief, pointed at me and said, “You! Come with me! I have a special seat for you.” I looked around to verify he was indeed talking to me, and when I saw no one else standing around me, I followed his instruction and followed him to the front of the plane. He led me to a ladder and helped me up into the flight deck.

“Are you kidding?” I asked. “I really get to sit up here?”

He nodded and of course immediately I asked him if Becky and Megan (an Army Preventative Medicine technician traveling with us) could come and sit up front too. He went back and got them and we all three sat there smiling ear to ear about this cool experience. It was obvious we were chosen because we were female, but heck! Who cared? It was my first ride on a C-130, and what better seats then the flight deck?

The pilots were friendly, and happy to explain everything to us. I found it fascinating to see how they operated such a huge machine. They were flying us down to Kandahar Air Field (KAF) where we would be for a couple of days and then we would fly out again to our firebase. The flight was just over an hour which passed very quickly.

We were met by some of the guys we had known from Bagram that left before us, as well as some of the Med Shed personnel at KAF. They helped us with our baggage and got us situated in our rooms. Once we dropped everything off we went to the Med Shed where we met our new “Doc” who was responsible for RC-South region of Afghanistan, who also became known to me as the “Bearer of Bad News”. He informed us there was a slight change in plans and now Becky would be going on to our firebase without me temporarily, and I would be staying back to participate in a “MedCap” - a group of medical providers who went to a location within a village and provided medical treatment and dispensed humanitarian aid supplies to masses of people. MedCaps were created both to reach out to the people and their healthcare needs and to gather intelligence. Despite how wonderful the cause was, I was a little uncomfortable about participating in this adventure. The region we were in was very active with conflict involving the Taliban, and I had become quite accustomed to being safe “behind the wire”. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go out in any convoys into unsecured areas, but it became evident that was not the case. I was also upset about being separated from Becky. We had become so used to having each other as a crutch to deal with the situation we were in, but now I would be on my own for several weeks in what could be the scariest part of the deployment yet.

“Jenn, how can they separate us?” Becky asked that night in our new B-hut. “What are we going to do without each other?”

I didn’t have an answer, I had the same questions. All I could say was, “Don’t worry, Becks; we’ll be back together before we know it.” We were both scared for very different reasons that night. She would be moving on to the firebase and into the unknown alone, while I had to go on a completely unexpected mission without her. We hugged tightly and spent the remainder of the night talking, finding comfort for one last night with the only friend either one of us really had for the remainder of our deployment.

After I left Becky, and lay down to sleep, I couldn’t help but notice the faint sound of gunfire in the background. It was just people firing at the range, but it confirmed my fears that I had definitely entered the combat zone, in more ways than one.

12 June 2008

Unlike Bagram, Kandahar Airfield was run by the Canadians, not the United States. Overall it was a nice installation. It had a “boardwalk” with amenities like Subway and Burger King and the Starbucks Coffee of Canada called Tim Horton’s. I must admit, the coffee was very tasty. The airfield was nationally divided; the Canadian, British, Dutch, and Americans all had their respective compounds. The British compound was unbelievable; they had a coffee shop that was nicer than some in the United States! It had white leather chairs, flat-screen televisions and some sort of fabulous contraption that produced fresh squeezed orange juice from whole oranges with the touch of a button.

Becky left for the firebase on the 7
th
which left me to prepare for the MedCap. I spent five days working hours and hours to prepare the supplies, doing things like loading up huge Pelican cases (which were similar to large footlockers) full of medications and making individual bags of the most commonly used medications like anti-inflammatories, multivitamins, and antacids. It was a lot of busy work, but it was all going to a good cause and I had nothing better to do. I eventually ended up with four Pelican cases and a large tri-fold box filled with supplies that would be palletized and loaded in to the aircraft when we left.

The day I was scheduled to leave for the MedCap site was also the day I realized this “No Limit” soldier did, in fact, have limits. In all honesty, I had come to find a pleasing comfort in the sheltered life I had lived for the past eight years. Once Becky left, I became the only Air Force member surrounded by not just Army, but Special Forces Army with all of their field experiences to boot.

As I listened to their stories, I quite frankly wanted to crawl into my Air Force uniform and disappear. I realized just how different we were and how different our training had been. They were fully prepared for battle on the ground, and all that came with it, whereas I was not in the least. I was reminded again of my previous false sense of security in being medical personnel. As Vance, a Special Forces medic, Megan and I waited for our helicopter; they decided to exchange combat stories with each other. Vance brought up the Chinook helicopter crash he responded to on his last deployment that was shot down with no survivors. This was my first helicopter experience, and ironically, we happened to be flying on a Chinook. He and Megan continued their talk about responding to enemy fire and killing bad guys; I looked down at my hands and realized my fists were clenched tightly around the bag I was holding. I set the bag down and walked away from the conversation, feeling I needed air; my fear was beginning to suffocate me.

When the bird arrived Vance nudged me, “Hey, don’t forget to put on your gloves,” as he pointed to my flak vest where they were clipped.

“Why?” I asked.

“Protection for your hands in case the Chinook gets shot up and catches fire,” he answered. My hands began to shake as I reached for the gloves and unclipped them from my vest. I tried to hide them and quickly donned the gloves and put my shaking hands to my sides. “Also, make sure you have a magazine in your M4 and M9 locked and loaded just in case,” he continued.

“Got it, thanks,” I answered and prepared my weapons.

Once Vance, Megan, the other passengers, me, and my bag of nerves, got on the Chinook and seat-belted in I pretended none of the previous conversations happened. I imagined myself flying in a safe and secure place back home and the experience became quite enjoyable. The rear aerial gunner had the back gate open, allowing him to scan the regions we flew over. This gave me a front row seat to the scenery below. We flew over some beautiful areas, at one point we even passed over a huge lake of turquoise water surrounded by beautiful mountains.

We stopped in Tarin Kowt, also known as TK, to change helicopters to take us to the firebase where we would stage our MedCap. As soon as we and our pallet were unloaded from the Chinook, we were told there were some VIPs going with us on the next flight; therefore, we would have to leave the pallet behind and have it come in on the following flight. On the advice of the Doc, and a PA at KAF, I had thrown my aide bag and sleeping bag on it with the other medical supplies to lighten my load. As we parted from the pallet I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake.

Once we arrived, I was pleased to see the friendly face of Don, who had left several days before. He got tasked to spend a couple of months with the team at the firebase and was also going to be a part of the MedCap. Apparently there was not an area directly on the firebase for the Chinooks to land so we were actually just outside the walls, close to an adjacent Dutch camp. Don and the team guys gathered us up on ATVs with our weapons and bags and set out on the dusty terrain toward the firebase where we would get assigned our rooms and a tour of the facility. When we got there, all the little Afghan boys gathered around me as if I were a celebrity.

Don noticed and explained, “They’ve never seen an American woman before.”

I smiled and waved at my new fan club. They were really cute, and watching them giggle about me, I couldn’t help but giggle back. I soon realized it was not only the little boys who were fascinated by me, but the Afghanistan National Army (ANA) soldiers and adult men were just as curious. Their looks and giggles somehow weren’t so endearing. I hurried past them, avoiding their gazes as much as possible.

As Don showed me around, I soon regretted the tour. The kitchen was, by far, the dirtiest I had ever seen and the moment I saw it I made the decision that I would live off of cereal and chips the entire time I was there. Then, just when I thought things couldn’t be worse in regards to hygiene, he showed me our toilets. This firebase had not gotten plumbing installed for their latrines, and so we had the luxury of voiding into “shit burners,” which were basically toilet seats with buckets under them that were emptied daily and the contents burned. When he opened a stall door to show me, the smell almost knocked me off of my feet. I would never take my bathroom at home for granted again. My room was filthy from the last person who stayed there, but I would clean it up easily.

“So Jenn, the initial plan for the MedCap was for it to be a one day trip,” Don explained as I was getting settled in. “But now it looks like it’s actually going to be two days.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, almost knowing the answer.

“Just that we will be sleeping overnight in the field,” he answered. This was news I was not prepared to hear and I instantly struggled with whether or not to let Greg know any further details. I didn’t want him to worry any more than he already was.

“So, let me get this straight, Don; not one convoy to and from the site, but to site one, then to site two, sleeping in the field, and then back?” I asked.

He nodded and replied, “Actually, it could even be
three
days depending on the information we collect.”

“Alright- got it,” I said trying to swallow the lump of emotion welling up in my throat.

“Don’t worry; everything will be fine and if anything happens, as long as you have your aide bag and narcotics for any casualties, you should be fine,” he reassured.

Shortly after getting the news on the MedCap, we learned our pallet didn’t make it. The soldier who stayed back to ensure it arrived apparently was unsure which pallet was ours and had them load the wrong one. The flights only came once a week, so that meant we were out of luck with our supplies. The team leader was informed of what happened and decided we would try to complete the MedCap with the medications they had already acquired on their firebase.

This meant that not only all of the hard work of preparing the medications and supplies loaded in the Pelican cases was for nothing, but my aide bag, narcotics, and my sleeping bag were all not coming either. After the extremely long day I had, and upon hearing bad news after bad news, I feared I was about to lose it. Up until this point in the deployment I had held it together. “Hey, are you ok?” Don asked, as I stared at the ceiling, trying with everything I had not to shed a tear.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I lied.

“Jenn, I see you are not fine. What’s going on? What’s wrong?” he asked.

I finally couldn’t hold it back any longer and the tears began to flow down my face. “I’m scared to death of going out in this region on a convoy. Not to mention, since my supplies didn’t make it, I have nothing I can use to treat patients if something happens out there. You just told me we are staying out in the field overnight and I don’t even have a sleeping bag or pillow for the MedCap, let alone the next week.” I felt like such a girl as I let my vulnerabilities show, but I couldn’t shut off my emotions. I continued, “I come from such a sheltered background and this is not at all a typical Air Force deployment. Everything that is ‘normal’ and ‘no big deal’ to you is so unbelievably foreign to me.”

“I have plenty of meds I can share with you and I have an extra sleeping bag and pillow you can use as long as you need it,” he said understandingly. His words were comforting, especially considering his background – 27 years in Special Forces, witnessing things I couldn’t even imagine. I hated to show any signs of weakness, filling the typical stereotype of a woman, but I had to admit that it helped to let it out.

“Listen,” he reassured. “God forbid anything happens, but if it does, what I need you to do is get down and stay by me. I will do everything I can to make sure nothing happens to you.”

“Thank you,” I said. It was such a relief to hear him say that. I was so grateful for his kindness and willingness to take me and Becky under his wing. He didn’t have to do the things he had, but I was so glad he did.

After I calmed down, he further explained the Green Berets to me. The teams I was augmenting were all stationed out of Ft. Bragg, NC and attached to various other groups. Each group deployed together on every cycle and when they were not deployed together, they trained together. The teams on the firebases were called Operational Detachment-Alphas (ODAs) and each team had been trained specifically for different types of missions. Some teams were specialized to deal with mountain warfare, combat diving, urban warfare, etc. Each of these teams consisted of twelve members with specific roles for the mission; however, they had all been cross-trained to be able to function in each other’s tasks if something happened and one person was killed or unable to function in their job. The team commander usually had a Chief Warrant Officer as the assistant in command. There was the team sergeant, the intelligence sergeant, and then it was even further divided. There were ideally two team members in the following positions: the weapons sergeant, engineer sergeant, medic and the communications sergeant. Usually, of the two men in those positions, one was the senior who had at least one year of experience, while the second was a junior, often fresh out of training.

Having Don explain the structure of the team was helpful to give me more of an understanding of the people I was going to be working with over the next several months.

After our talk, Vance and Megan came and got us, and we went and took some pictures around the base and climbed the tower to look out into the surrounding villages. It was a beautiful evening. I stood on the tower, looking out into a farm, watching the Afghan children play with each other and chase a cow. The men were preparing to pray as they unrolled their prayer rugs and I found myself at peace for the first time that whole day. Despite everything that seemed to go wrong, I knew I was there for a reason and I wouldn’t be there if I wasn’t needed. So, I stood there and watched the children laugh for another thirty minutes before I finally went to sleep and put the day behind me.