Last Night in A-stan

LAST NIGHT IN AFGHANISTAN

8/29/2010

Rushing and rushing, planes and helicopters. Trying to get unstuck. Waiting for the birds to get out of the Arghandab, can't find one of the guys supposed to roll with us. He's disappeared. A contractor kid tells me I should check all the port-a-jons. "He's probably jacking off, I just gave him a bunch of porn." The jet wash from the engines of the Chinook feel like standing in a forest fire. You go up in it so fast it's like an express elevator, your stomach drops to the floor. We run a circuit of bases in the thing, we keep touching down in the dark in another gravel field, sometimes we just sit, sometimes we take on more passengers. Leave at 12:30 from Terra Nova and don't get off in KAF until 4 am. Next day my ears buzz for a half hour after the C-130 ride to Kabul.

I arrive at the military side of Kabul airport and wash just enough clothes in the sink to be able to get on a plane tomorrow. Take a shower and watch the brown water run off me, down the drain. Stay in a tent with a bunch of middle aged guys texting, looking at me suspiciously. The military base at Kabul airport is a strange bubble to end 6 weeks in Afghanistan. I find myself in the role of fashion critic of the uniforms of all the NATO troops here. BulgariaRomaniaFrance TurkeySpainSingapore Denmark GermanyTheNetherlandsandonandon. Most of these folks don't fight. They all look goofy as hell. Each country has it's own camo pattern. Some make sense, some you think man, did they get third graders to draw that? None of them use Realtree. Go figure. There are flyers up for dance night at the Belgian lounge. Here it's like one big summer vacation. Except you have to carry an unloaded rifle everywhere you go. I watch a Fox news correspondent do her stand up in the big tent that people go to use the internet and watch movies. Guys and gals are shooting pool and playing WII all around her. I think You better save it sister, this is the bubble. It gets a lot different outside of here.

6 weeks here. Almost all embedded. Too long. Last year, this Lt. Col. I met here would tell me, "You know, in 10 years I'm moving back here, opening up a ski lodge." It was supposed to demonstrate how confident he was in his ability to turn things around, at least in the area under his control. It sounded cute then, a good soundbite. It sounds completely insane now, almost willfully stupid. I would love to take a trip here one of these days. See this place without rifle plates strapped to my chest. After these weeks, that seems a possibility as remote as I can imagine. Out of here.