Rolling Deep

Our primary means of transportation over here are big armored trucks called Cougars.  Almost every day we head out the wire on some mission or another.  Protected by steel, and bristling with weapons, we–as our soldiers from the inner city say–”roll deep.”  It’s always a heady experience to leave the FOB.  Glad to leave the confines of the camp and ready for whatever’s next, we chatter away on our intercoms and radios.  A couple of songs always run through my head at such times.  One is a country rocker called “Free and Easy Down the Road I Go” by Dierks Bentley.  The other is a punk rock chestnut called “You’re a Rebel,” by a group called Iron Cross.  Not too free and easy around here, and I’m not much of a rebel, but the blend of the two seems to get my mind right for whatever we have to do.

Hootch

 

When I was home on leave, everyone but everyone wanted to know about my living arrangements in Afghanistan.  Always eager to please, I’ve attached a couple of pictures of my hootch.  It’s better and bigger than most billets on my FOB; most of the others are open-bay barracks divided by plywood partitions into individual rooms.  I share a bathroom with my sergeant major, we also share a small common area that contains a refrigerator and TV, neither of which we use much.  I have commercial Internet service in my room:  $75 a month, slower than dial-up.   When it rains hard, which it does surprisingly often here, the room floods with about two inches of water.