Where we were? Right, cakes. So, my favorite cake is Black Magic chocolate cake, which you make with coffee, and it turns out all moist and yummy, and you put cream cheese frosting on it...wait, you didn't actually care about the cake? Right. Sorry.
The next morning, of course, we had to cross the same culvert again. Only this time, it was slightly smaller, and our driver was afraid of it. We put a Marine on the other side of the culvert to guide her across--a Sergeant with plenty of experience both driving and guiding heavy vehicles. There's a fairly steep, yet short, hill leading up to the culvert. Sitting in the back of the MRAP, I heard her rev the gas, but then as we approached the top of the hill, the gas didn't let up. I heard our VC, one of my Sergeants, yell, "left, left, left!" and then we were in the ditch again, this time on the opposite side of the ditch. A plastic wrapper that bundled up gatorade bottles floated across the vehicle towards my face and I caught it; I was just glad it wasn't something heavier.
Again, none of us were hurt. We climbed out of the vehicle, and fortunately this time we had brought the recovery vehicle with us, so we were back in business fairly quickly. Unfortunately, the road surface over the culvert was now too narrow for the minerollers, so it would require improvement before we continued regular traffic. We replaced the driver of my vehicle and continued on to the patrol base. The day's task was to start setting up the HESCO perimeter, but we sent a team out to repair the culvert. Every single time we passed over that culvert for the rest of the mission, everyone in my truck held their breath, but the repairs held, and there were no more trips into the ditch for the rest of the mission (for anyone).
That day was productive, as was the next. We got the perimeter set up, and a good chunk of it filled, and started running rock from the river down to the patrol base. The order had originally called for us to put down a foot of gravel and compact it so the Afghans could build barracks on it, but we didn't have the proper gravel available, so we hadn't brought the necessary heavy equipment to compact it. Our plan was to put down river rock and smooth it over the patrol base, so at least the Afghan trucks (little Toyota pick-ups) wouldn't get stuck in the moon dust inside the base.
The first day, the SeeBees were running their own heavy equipment up at the river, so we used them to fill the dump trucks transporting the gravel to the PB, and both of our TRAMs were available to work inside the base. We got quite a bit done that day, which prove very useful.
The first thing I heard about the problems the next day was on our way down to the patrol base the next morning when we got a call on the radio that one of our two TRAMs was overheating. The operator had turned the fan off to ford the river--standard procedure--but then when he had tried to turn it back on again it hadn't come back on. It was determined that the TRAM could make it the rest of the way into the patrol base, where we set the mechanics to trying to figure out what the problem was. After about an hour, they had isolated the problem to a leak in one of three hoses, all of which ran from the hydraulic oil reservoir into the transmission. Unfortunately, they couldn't tell which of the three it was without taking the entire armored cab off--something we didn't have the resources to do ourselves.
We sent our second TRAM out to the river to load the dump trucks with rock. Unfortunately, the SeaBees had started pulling rock from a different location that day, so with one TRAM broken, we were somewhat limited in what we could accomplish that day. That afternoon, we drove the broken TRAM back up to the FOB, where we talked to the mechanics stationed with the Battalion. They were quite helpful, and told us they would try to repair it that afternoon so we could use it the next morning. Unfortunately, when I went back in the evening, they told me that the TRAM's transmission was destroyed, and that we would need to take it back to Leatherneck for some heavy-duty maintenance before it would be usable.
Awesome. So, that TRAM was out for the rest of the mission. The maintenance shop did ask us if there was a day that they could lend us a TRAM. There was one day--we had the additional task of bringing some gear back to Camp Leatherneck, and the gear was at a separate patrol base about 35km away. We would need to send the TRAM we had with them so it could load the trucks. Fortunately, we didn't have to take the trucks there ourselves--we had found another CLP to escort the trucks to the base and back--but we would need a TRAM to continue work at the patrol base that day. The maintenance shop said it wouldn't be a problem to lend us a TRAM on Friday.
Wednesday afternoon. Everything was going fine. Most of the HESCO was up; we were just waiting to finish spreading the rock inside the patrol base before we put the last bit of HESCO up across the entrance. Early in the afternoon, one of my Corporals found me. He had been outside the patrol base, providing security for the trucks running gravel, and he showed me a BFT message from my Platoon Sergeant, who was also outside the wire. The message said that two of the dump trucks had been in a collision, and to send a corpsman back with my Corporal and call our company office to let them know what had happened.
The Marines were all okay, but one of the dump trucks was seriously damaged, and the other would need some repairs before we would be able to use it again. The cause of the accident was operator error, which made me selfishly glad that the Marines involved were attachments from another company (i.e. not any Marines I was directly responsible for).
I spent the next day doing paperwork related to the collision, as one of my Sergeants supervised the completion of the patrol base, and another Sergeant supervised the repairs. That's been one of the best things about this deployment--the number of outstanding Sergeants and Corporals I have. My job would have been 100 times harder if they hadn't done such a good job. Unfortunately, that evening when I talked to my company commander, he told me that the battalion commander was considering bringing us back from the mission early.
I begged him (in a dignified manner, of course) to convince the CO to let us stay out and finish the mission. One of the easiest ways to completely destroy a Marine's morale is to tell them they can't finish the mission. After all the work that my Marines had done, after all the difficulties they (and I) had worked so hard to overcome to finish the mission, not letting us finish would make it that much worse. He said to continue as we had planned for the next day, but be prepared to pull up stakes and leave on Saturday, instead of Monday as we'd originally planned.
The next morning we got the call--finish everything up and leave the next day. We threw up the last wall of HESCO and returned to the FOB to prepare the trucks for the 140km drive the next day. As you remember, we made it halfway the first day, spent the next day repairing trucks, and then made it back to Camp Leatherneck very, very late Monday evening. Or early Tuesday morning, if you prefer.
And then--here's the kicker. Most of the Marines had already been cut, but I was the last one to leave because I was finishing up some paperwork from the collision. When I finally was ready to head back to my tent on Tuesday morning just before 4am, I managed to get a Marine to drive me out there in a gator (golf cart), since it was over a mile, and I had a lot of gear with me. We were driving along, driving along, the tent was in sight...and then the gator died. Out of gas. One of the bus drivers saw us and stopped. They didn't have gas, but they offered to help. I sent the Marine back to our battalion lot and settled in for a nice 30-45 minute wait (in the cold!) while he tracked down gas and walked back out to the gator. Surprisingly, he was back in 20 minutes. The bus driver had waited for him and brought him back.
Trucks breaking down, trucks rolling into ditches, trucks colliding, all the other stuff I haven't told you about (because it would just take way too long)--all that is well and good, but the gator running out of gas? That was the icing on the cake.
13 December 2010
09 December 2010
Last Mission
We should have taken our first clue from our first day, rather our first night, of our last mission in Afghanistan. Our first day went pretty well. Our task for the first day was to drive south about 140km to the FOB where we would be working out of for the next week and a half. I'd heard horror stories about the drive before, but our drive went fairly well. We found the hard-packed dirt and made it most of the way down in ten hours. Believe it or not, this is pretty good time for Afghanistan.
And then, about 10 clicks out, we hit some snags. The sun went down. Our lead vehicle had trouble finding the hard-packed dirt. Our trailers hauling heavy equipment started getting stuck. At one point the vehicle commander for the vehicle I was riding in told me we had been averaging 26 minutes per mile for the past five miles. And then we made it to the FOB--we could see the lights just over the hill. What we couldn't do was find the ECP, or entry control point, that would let us inside friendly lines. So we searched for it, and finally the last vehicle in our convoy radioed that he had found it.
Unfortunately, at that point, our three trailers hauling our TRAMs and the small bulldozer we had brought with us were a ways past the ECP, down the hill and by the Helmand River, which we would be crossing every day for the next week. We started turning vehicles around, and our first vehicle made it inside the FOB around 1900. Then the fun started. The road close to the river got pretty narrow, so one of the trailers ended up in a small tributary when it tried to turn around. One of the trailers succumbed to the elements and died entirely. Fortunately, we had brought the heavy-duty recovery truck with us, so we sent it out to drag the vehicles out of the river and back up the hill. By the time our last vehicle rolled in the ECP, it was a minute past midnight.
Annoying, but no big deal. We wouldn't need the trailers until we headed back to Leatherneck, so our mechanic had a while to fix the trucks. We started the next day by taking a look at the BOM (Bill of Materials), or the lumber and HESCO that we would be using for our mission. It wasn't in the greatest of shape. It had been delivered from Khandahar, to the east, by a civilian contractor, and they hadn't used common sense in its delivery.
The materials had been loaded up in Khandahar in dump trucks, so when they arrived at the FOB, they had simply lifted the beds of the trucks and dumped the materials on the deck. The lumber and HESCO had been mangled. The nails ended up in a head on the deck and had to be sorted out. Some of the items had been substitutes for what was requested. For example, my Sergeant liked to use orange spray paint to mark the lines of the patrol bases we built. Orange paint had been delivered in cans instead--completely useless to us. Razor wire was substituted for concertina wire.
Our mission was to build a PB (patrol base) for the Afghan Border Police, to give them their own base to work out of instead of them working out of the adjacent Marine Corps outpost they were currently using. We would build a HESCO perimeter, guard towers, a "hygiene" (head) area, and the original order called for a wire perimeter. We inventoried our materials on hand; they would be enough for what we needed. The razor wire wasn't an adequate substitute for the concertina wire we had requested, but the engineering officer stationed at the FOB said he had some c-wire we could borrow. We headed out to the existing patrol base to take a look at the site.
(We slept at the FOB and commuted to the PB every morning. We ended up fording the Helmand River every morning and evening, and there were a couple of canals we crossed along the way, but it worked out pretty well. There was a real chow hall at the FOB, and showers, and an office to work from. There was supposed to be a tent to sleep in, but because the Battalion was being replaced, there was an extra Battalion currently at the base, and all of the transient billeting was occupied. Still, it was better than staying at the PB.)
So we arrived at the PB after lunch. The site survey had been done by someone else. We had been assured that there was enough dirt on site to fill the HESCO, but we had failed to properly assess the amount of work required to level the site. We got on site only to find out the small bulldozer we had brought would be completely inadequate to complete the job in a reasonable time frame. We were in luck, though. When we got back to the FOB that night, I talked to the SeaBees stationed at the FOB, and they said we could borrow their bulldozer the next day. Score.
So we headed out the next day with an extra bulldozer and managed to get the site leveled. It wasn't perfect, but part of the order called for putting down gravel inside the PB--we would level the deck when we spread the gravel. We started heading back to the FOB. The Sergeant that had been my VC (vehicle commander) was in a different vehicle, so I was in the VC seat (front passenger seat). One of the culverts crossing one of the canals was fairly narrow, and the driver of my vehicle hit it wrong as we went over it. Too far to the right, and then slowed down when the rear right side of the vehicle sank. I told her to crank the wheel and hit the gas, but it did no good. The vehicle started to tip over to the right.
I yelled back at my gunner to get inside the vehicle--the gunner's turret is the most dangerous place to be in a vehicle, especially in a roll-over. Fortunately, he had already crouched down inside the vehicle and braced himself. We rolled slowly. Once it felt like we were more or less stable, I told the radio operator to radio back to the vehicle behind us and make sure we were stable. I didn't want anybody getting hurt as they climbed out. It was too late. My platoon sergeant, the VC for the vehicle behind us, was already on top of the vehicle, now the driver's side, trying to get the door open. It took two of them to open the door, but then he was yelling down into the vehicle to make sure everybody was okay. I assured him we were okay, and other Marines helped the four of us climb out of the vehicle.
We hadn't brought our heavy-duty recovery truck with us that day, so we called back to the FOB and waited until it came. It took the operator a couple of tries to pull our vehicle out of the ditch it had slid into, but finally it was out. We examined the culvert. It had been built by filling HESCO placed on top of concrete. When our vehicle drove too close to the edge, the HESCO had burst, starting the roll-over. The firm ground left was smaller than it had been, but it was still just barely wide enough for our heavy trucks. The truck itself was in fairly good shape. The stairs were bent, a couple panels were bent, and dirt had been packed into the crevices on the right side of the truck, but it still ran, and the armor hadn't been damaged.
We drove back to the FOB. I hopped out near the entrance so I could head to the office the SeaBees worked out of and thank them for the use of their bulldozer. As soon as I did so, I found myself staring into the barrel of my rifle. A buckle on my sling had worked itself loose and fallen off, so my rifle was now connected to my sling at only one point, instead of the typical two. I took the sling off and carried my rifle by hand--a broken sling was just icing on the cake.
What I didn't know at the time was that we hadn't even put the cake in the oven yet. (To be continued...)
And then, about 10 clicks out, we hit some snags. The sun went down. Our lead vehicle had trouble finding the hard-packed dirt. Our trailers hauling heavy equipment started getting stuck. At one point the vehicle commander for the vehicle I was riding in told me we had been averaging 26 minutes per mile for the past five miles. And then we made it to the FOB--we could see the lights just over the hill. What we couldn't do was find the ECP, or entry control point, that would let us inside friendly lines. So we searched for it, and finally the last vehicle in our convoy radioed that he had found it.
Unfortunately, at that point, our three trailers hauling our TRAMs and the small bulldozer we had brought with us were a ways past the ECP, down the hill and by the Helmand River, which we would be crossing every day for the next week. We started turning vehicles around, and our first vehicle made it inside the FOB around 1900. Then the fun started. The road close to the river got pretty narrow, so one of the trailers ended up in a small tributary when it tried to turn around. One of the trailers succumbed to the elements and died entirely. Fortunately, we had brought the heavy-duty recovery truck with us, so we sent it out to drag the vehicles out of the river and back up the hill. By the time our last vehicle rolled in the ECP, it was a minute past midnight.
Annoying, but no big deal. We wouldn't need the trailers until we headed back to Leatherneck, so our mechanic had a while to fix the trucks. We started the next day by taking a look at the BOM (Bill of Materials), or the lumber and HESCO that we would be using for our mission. It wasn't in the greatest of shape. It had been delivered from Khandahar, to the east, by a civilian contractor, and they hadn't used common sense in its delivery.
The materials had been loaded up in Khandahar in dump trucks, so when they arrived at the FOB, they had simply lifted the beds of the trucks and dumped the materials on the deck. The lumber and HESCO had been mangled. The nails ended up in a head on the deck and had to be sorted out. Some of the items had been substitutes for what was requested. For example, my Sergeant liked to use orange spray paint to mark the lines of the patrol bases we built. Orange paint had been delivered in cans instead--completely useless to us. Razor wire was substituted for concertina wire.
Our mission was to build a PB (patrol base) for the Afghan Border Police, to give them their own base to work out of instead of them working out of the adjacent Marine Corps outpost they were currently using. We would build a HESCO perimeter, guard towers, a "hygiene" (head) area, and the original order called for a wire perimeter. We inventoried our materials on hand; they would be enough for what we needed. The razor wire wasn't an adequate substitute for the concertina wire we had requested, but the engineering officer stationed at the FOB said he had some c-wire we could borrow. We headed out to the existing patrol base to take a look at the site.
(We slept at the FOB and commuted to the PB every morning. We ended up fording the Helmand River every morning and evening, and there were a couple of canals we crossed along the way, but it worked out pretty well. There was a real chow hall at the FOB, and showers, and an office to work from. There was supposed to be a tent to sleep in, but because the Battalion was being replaced, there was an extra Battalion currently at the base, and all of the transient billeting was occupied. Still, it was better than staying at the PB.)
So we arrived at the PB after lunch. The site survey had been done by someone else. We had been assured that there was enough dirt on site to fill the HESCO, but we had failed to properly assess the amount of work required to level the site. We got on site only to find out the small bulldozer we had brought would be completely inadequate to complete the job in a reasonable time frame. We were in luck, though. When we got back to the FOB that night, I talked to the SeaBees stationed at the FOB, and they said we could borrow their bulldozer the next day. Score.
So we headed out the next day with an extra bulldozer and managed to get the site leveled. It wasn't perfect, but part of the order called for putting down gravel inside the PB--we would level the deck when we spread the gravel. We started heading back to the FOB. The Sergeant that had been my VC (vehicle commander) was in a different vehicle, so I was in the VC seat (front passenger seat). One of the culverts crossing one of the canals was fairly narrow, and the driver of my vehicle hit it wrong as we went over it. Too far to the right, and then slowed down when the rear right side of the vehicle sank. I told her to crank the wheel and hit the gas, but it did no good. The vehicle started to tip over to the right.
I yelled back at my gunner to get inside the vehicle--the gunner's turret is the most dangerous place to be in a vehicle, especially in a roll-over. Fortunately, he had already crouched down inside the vehicle and braced himself. We rolled slowly. Once it felt like we were more or less stable, I told the radio operator to radio back to the vehicle behind us and make sure we were stable. I didn't want anybody getting hurt as they climbed out. It was too late. My platoon sergeant, the VC for the vehicle behind us, was already on top of the vehicle, now the driver's side, trying to get the door open. It took two of them to open the door, but then he was yelling down into the vehicle to make sure everybody was okay. I assured him we were okay, and other Marines helped the four of us climb out of the vehicle.
We hadn't brought our heavy-duty recovery truck with us that day, so we called back to the FOB and waited until it came. It took the operator a couple of tries to pull our vehicle out of the ditch it had slid into, but finally it was out. We examined the culvert. It had been built by filling HESCO placed on top of concrete. When our vehicle drove too close to the edge, the HESCO had burst, starting the roll-over. The firm ground left was smaller than it had been, but it was still just barely wide enough for our heavy trucks. The truck itself was in fairly good shape. The stairs were bent, a couple panels were bent, and dirt had been packed into the crevices on the right side of the truck, but it still ran, and the armor hadn't been damaged.
We drove back to the FOB. I hopped out near the entrance so I could head to the office the SeaBees worked out of and thank them for the use of their bulldozer. As soon as I did so, I found myself staring into the barrel of my rifle. A buckle on my sling had worked itself loose and fallen off, so my rifle was now connected to my sling at only one point, instead of the typical two. I took the sling off and carried my rifle by hand--a broken sling was just icing on the cake.
What I didn't know at the time was that we hadn't even put the cake in the oven yet. (To be continued...)
02 December 2010
Camp Leatherneck special
Most of you probably already saw this on facebook, but for those who didn't, the National Geographic channel will be running a special on Camp Leatherneck on Sunday evening.
Information on Camp Leatherneck Special
I saw about ten minutes of the special a couple days ago, and from what I saw, it's pretty accurate and definitely worth watching if you want a glimpse of what my life has been like for the past seven months. I didn't do much foot patrolling--most of our patrols were mounted--but as far as the environment goes, it's spot on.
I'm in Kyrgyztan right now; we leave for the states tomorrow evening, landing in California on Saturday. We land in Eugene on Wednesday afternoon, and then get a four-day weekend directly afterwards (back in Eugene on Monday morning). I'll be hitting up both Grants Pass and Portland but haven't decided on which city to go to first. Any suggestions?
Information on Camp Leatherneck Special
I saw about ten minutes of the special a couple days ago, and from what I saw, it's pretty accurate and definitely worth watching if you want a glimpse of what my life has been like for the past seven months. I didn't do much foot patrolling--most of our patrols were mounted--but as far as the environment goes, it's spot on.
I'm in Kyrgyztan right now; we leave for the states tomorrow evening, landing in California on Saturday. We land in Eugene on Wednesday afternoon, and then get a four-day weekend directly afterwards (back in Eugene on Monday morning). I'll be hitting up both Grants Pass and Portland but haven't decided on which city to go to first. Any suggestions?
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