Monday, September 19, 2005
My husband went to war and all I got was this lousy t-shirt So here we are, finally together after too many weeks, too many months. It's been a delirious last few days in the best possible way. Right now he is asleep on the couch, exhausted still from the past months and because Afghanistan is nine and a half hours ahead of us (yes, a half). It has been as if he never left. We are so happy to be together. This picture is emblematic of us, really. Rebecca used to tease us that we were always punching and kicking each other in the kitchen on Washington in New Orleans, doing our little flirtatious martial dance left over from our first years together at the karate/kickboxing gym. S is going to take our equipment back with him because some of the special forces guys he works with are interested in buying it from us, and since these days I'm more interested in zen than boxing, and S would like to pick up Aikido when he gets home (and I'll probably join him), we don't really need three pairs of focus mitts anymore, let alone thai leg kick pads and all those gloves. We have a lot of equipment. The tee. S's last commander had them made up for PT. The new commander, though, wants his own tee, so these are now useless. Yes, for every commander there is a new t-shirt. The souvenirs of war! S told me that at Camp Phoenix, where many soldiers spend their entire tours (and where one high-ranking officer gave all the officers under him bronze stars for nothing more than staying safe on the most secured base in the country -- a lot of honor in that, isn't there?), soldiers can pay to have a flag flown for ten minutes and their picture taken beneath it, and get to take the smallish flag home with them as a memento of the war. Curious; not too many of the men like S who spend weeks on end on missions along the Pakistan border have much interest in these miniature flags, let alone posing for a picture beneath them blowing in Afghan winds. S is full of stories. We spent the first couple of days talking and listening to each other. Some of his stories I'll be able to share here, but some he'll have to share himself, hopefully when he's home for good early next year. When his contract expired, he emailed his friend from his unit stationed on the other side of the country and told him that he was officially out of the army. His friend, whose contract expires in a couple of days, answered back, "Please tell me you're writing me from the United States!" Alas, he wasn't. He was north of Asadabad in a small fire base on the northernmost extension of the coalition (though not the northernmost border of the country -- yes, there are whole provinces we have yet to explore four years after the invasion). Some of the stories have to do with the overwhelmingly screwed up priorities of national guard leadership. Some about the desires of the vast majority of Afghans to have peace and stability and an end to war. Some others are about how most of the Taliban remnants and other "ACMs" (Anti-Coalition Militias) are foreign fighters from Pakistan and the Arabian peninsula, including a number who were "trained" in Iraq. There are stories of egregious lack of planning leading to the deaths of soldiers (American and Afghan), just as there are stories of lack of support and equipment leading to near-misses and unnecessary anxiety. Finally S is at a base that has proper equipment and support, but he considers himself lucky as some of the men he worked with the first six months are still stuck with nothing. The biggest question S has is why we're not fighting the war on terror, but again I'll leave it to him to go into that one. I have a feeling he'll be writing up a storm when he comes home for good. The weather has cooperated this week so far. Fair in the day, finally some rain in the night. There is just the hint of autumn in the air, especially in the mornings. We don't have any big plans, just more hanging out and being together. It's such a joy!! I'll try to write again soon, perhaps about John Kerry's speech today on the Katrina Administration and their heartbreaking failures in our lost city in the south and "over there," that war-of-liberation turned civil war in Iraq. Afghanistan remains far off the television screen, buried most often in the bowels of the daily paper, brought out to the open only with elections or particularly disturbing bouts of violence. Soon S will be away from there and home, home. I can't wait. 
|
Last update: 10/2/05; 7:48:32 PM .
