We traveled to FOB Kutschbach Saturday with the French. We had to inspect some parts of the Southern Tag Ab road.
You may remember me mentioning how the Tag Ab district is more hostile than where Bagram is in the north. Going down south usually makes my pucker factor go a little higher. (Don’t know what a “pucker factor is?” Google it, young’uns!)
Kutschbach is nothing like Bagram. No Dairy Queen, no massage parlors … pretty much, no FOBbits are here. Everyone at Kutschbach goes outside the wire. This means that the FOB is void of an luxuries. (In fact, I typed this blog entry in my MacBook, but it wasn’t uploaded until I returned to Bagram, because there is no internet connectivity there.)
When we got there, we found we didn’t really have any place to sleep in. There was an open b-hut, but most of us chose to sleep outside, under the stars, because it was too hot inside the hut. I chose the hut.
About midnight, we heard a “WHOOOSH …. kaBOOM!” I jumped out of my sleeping bag to check it out, along with others who were awakened. It was pitch dark outside … only the moon and stars provided light. One of our security forces Soldiers said he saw a flash from the top of a nearby mountain. Base security confirmed we were targeted by a rocket. (They missed us, thank goodness.)
I stood silent, looking at the mountain for a while, only really able to see the top of it where the moon highlighted the peak.
For a quick second, I noticed a small speck of light (kind of like a flashlight in the distance) in the middle of the mountain. Thinking it was the bad guy, I alerted the security forces, and they quickly fixed our big guns on the mountain, and called for some illumination flares to light up the mountain. (See the pic above.)
After that commotion settled down, we tried to go back to sleep. Notice, I said “tried.”
A hailstorm … yes, a hailstorm, fell upon us. Marble-sized hail and heavy raindrops beat our little b-hut’s tin roof, making it impossible for a light sleeper like me to get any rest. (It’s normally been ridiculously hot, dry and dusty during my entire tour in Afghanistan. When’s the ONE time it rains hard? When most of us we’re sleeping outside. Thanks a lot, Murphy.)
Another sleepless night.
I found it interesting that some of us, after hearing the rocket’s impact, just stayed asleep throughout the whole ordeal. I think rocket attacks happen so frequently that we don’t really put much thought into them. In fact, rather than talking about the most recent rocket attack, I’ve heard people have a more lengthy conversation about what’s for dinner at the chow-hall.
Dinner yesterday was beef and peas. They had some nice mash potatoes to go with ‘em. There was another rocket attack, and I had a brownie for dessert. I washed it all down with my favorite banana milk in a box.