“LESSONS LEARNED” IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT
This is Part 2 to my first-ever poem, Fearless Flight. This is what happened after I did my best to navigate an Afghanistan military base tent city, after the “flight from hell”.
Lesson #1 for you: The Lockheed P-3 Orion is a legendary, four-engine turboprop anti-submarine and maritime surveillance aircraft introduced in the 1960s; patrolled in Cuba, then in Vietnam and Philippines. The distinctive “stinger” ( like a wasp) tail, is the Magnetic Anomaly Detection (MAD) equipment, used to hunt submarines, basically the Russian kind, during the Cold War. This amazing aircraft has been used for a variety of missions, even seeking raw minerals. They can fly low and undetected. The prop engines have a strange hum that puts me to sleep; a deep sleep as sleep sitting straight up, or over the table in the galley(a place where just a couple of aircrew can sit and eat).
Occasionally, during my first and final sea duty tour, I was privy passenger because as the Command Career Counselor. I was escorted to many locations in East and South Asia and flew on long missions. On one flight around Mount Fuji, I felt I was so close I could touch it. However, this trip was not East Asia, it was South Asia and there was no ocean, only rocky terrain, camouflaged-colored tents, sand and more sand.
Lesson #2 is for me. Learn the term ”Need to Know”.
Why didn’t I ask more questions about the flight into Afghanistan BEFORE I got on the plane?
The landing and departing erratic procedures were similar to a Six Flags rollercoaster; a normal 2.5 minute ride of loops and unexpected twists and turns with your hands up in the air. However, rollercoasters are fun, this was not, at least not for THIS “newbie” (term used for being new at something).
“You don’t have clearance, Breedlove(meaning I didn’t have the need to know? However, I felt I did. You all asked for me to be HERE.
Lesson #3 is for me and you. Sandstorms or as they are called here “dust storms” are a normal phenomena and occur often in Afghanistan. Once the aircrew receives the weather update, and the P-3’s are napping and baking under the desert raging sun, they work like an army of fire ants, fast and furious, covering the engine propellers with big red leather covers in a timed fashion; like someone is yelling out the seconds and it’s a contest (think Curling?). Sand/dust gets everywhere and I mEAN EVERYWHERE!
However, I will say I am glad to be alive today as I unbuckled my seatbelt. My “army” green long sleeve flight suit was now a deep olive green, wet with sweat. At least I held my cookies; proud of that.
The girl next to me didn’t hold her breakfast or lunch.She was embarrassed by the mess that had stained vomit all over herself. It’s ok, though, I NEVER saw her again.
Lesson#4 for me – Go to the restroom before getting on a military aircraft, mostly full of males AND do not forget to stand and stretch
My legs and neck were quite stiff after sitting in one position for 7 hours. Instantly, I realized my legs were not working like they should. I missed the P-3’s step ladder on the way down. I crumbled to the pavement. I should have kissed the ground while there, but I would have eaten a real SANDwich. I could barely pull myself up onto my newly issued tied to tight desert combat boots that were strangling my ankles.
Lesson #4A; for anyone that doesn’t know, all the military services were present here except the Coast Guard; Air Force (Airmen), Army(soldiers), Marine Corps(Marines or “grunts” we liked to call them) and Navy (sailors, they call us “squids”). There were also many special forces teams; secret. Like don’t look at them or strike up a conversation… or else. American SEALS undercover walked around, very suspiciously, because they had to blend in with the local population: Long beards, turbans or wool caps, and collarless tunics that fell to their knees.
The rest of the military personnel here all wore the same desert cammies. Some were lighter shades of browns and tans than others. Those that were here longer than most of us had bleached-by-the-unforgiving-SUN cammies. I could not see insignia or names well, until I was in a “too close for comfort” zone. NO ONE SALUTES officers here (I almost did and went into a mini-panic attack).
I loved my camo-gear; so comfortable. I took special pride in the crispiness of my desert cammies because they were starched with metal thin creases. However, my very distinctive browns and cream camo, a gorgeous chic camo ensemble i might add, was very bright and new…a warning sign to the regulars. I stuck out worse than a sore thumb; I was a hazard.
Chelle, all of your pieces are so visual and it makes them even more riveting to read. We are all on the edge of our seat reading this. Thank you for taking us on this flight with you!