“The Last Journey” #8 Simply Salerno
Sunday Evening
01 August 2010
Forward Operating Base Salerno, Afghanistan
It’s dark now and all the outside lights are off. It’s been a very long day and I’m short on rest. I must write to keep my mind in good working order. An exercise I hope to maintain daily. Everyone simply calls this place, “Salerno”. I like it here.
Nine years ago, I picked this spot on the map of Afghanistan. I determined that this would be the place to come and base out of if and when I ever came. In March of 2002, my son Jimmy, was a door gunner with B-159, a Chinook unit deployed out of Hunter Army Airfield, Savannah, Georgia. His unit conducted troop insertions and extractions during “Operation Anaconda” as our forces attempted to destroy al-Qaeda and Taliban in the Shahi-Kot Valley and Arma Mountains southeast of Zormat. I remember watching reports of what was going on at that time in the middle of yet another sleepless night while living in Hawaii.
Today, as I gaze towards the mountains to the west and pinpoint on a map exactly where I am standing, I realize that I am approximately 35-miles east of where my son Jimmy was during that operation. Surreal hardly explains my emotions. Looking at the map again, I realize I will be embedding with a unit approximately xx-miles* due south of that same area where my son was getting his first taste of war at age 21. That was a “hot” area then and remains so now. I also located on the map that I will be embedded approximately xx-miles* southwest of the area where tragically former NFL player and Army Ranger Pat Tillman died. [Editor’s note, the location of Camp Salerno is well known, however Jim’s exact location during the embed will not be published].
The Bachelor Pad
Getting around Afghanistan via air these days is not an easy task for anyone. The pax terminal was jam packed with soldiers and a few civilians. I wish I could have taken photos but I was hesitant to upset the apple cart. I saw literally scores and scores of soldiers in full battle gear all crashed out on the floor sleeping with no room left in the terminal waiting area. Then, out of nowhere, an Air Force person came over the loud speaker and blared out, “THERE WILL BE NO SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR IN THE PASSENGER TERMINAL”, twice. Ridiculous! These warriors had been here for hours on end, just like me and were all tired and still had a long night ahead. Sometimes the support personnel just don’t get it. I’m no genius, but I would think someone would order a plane or two more to handle overload traffic. I’m not trying to burn bridges but it seems like someone dropped the ball and I’m having a hard time making sense of it. I’m exhausted.
Going to bed down for the evening.
Monday 0920 hours
02 August 2010
Forward Operating Base Salerno, Afghanistan
I woke up this morning to the loud speaker blaring, “STAY IN YOUR BUNKER, STAY IN YOUR BUNKER”. That means from my experiences in Iraq that somebody is lobbing rockets or mortars into camp. My entire sleeping area is surrounded by concrete blast walls so I’m not really worried and I figured it’s best to just stay where I am. I really had to pee but there’s no use, under the circumstances, wandering around looking for a porta potty. Empty water bottles work just fine thank you, it’s not worth getting blown up with my pants down.
After the all clear sounded, I headed to chow. On the way I saw where the incoming projectile had impacted. I had seen this hundreds of times in the past in Balad. I felt like I was receiving my own personal welcome aboard barrage. Breakfast was fruit, potato cake, and a cup of black coffee. Hank, I hope that Devil Dog Brew gets here soon. Yesterday, I took a great shower and cleaned up thankfully with no rush to it. Then, I located self service laundry, a fantastic find this close to the action. Free washing machines, dryers, and soap; I don’t remember ever being so excited to do laundry.
I came across another friend since I’ve been in country. Anthony Brown is a contractor that I knew from the flight lines of Balad, Iraq, a good man and I’m glad to see him. He’s my oldest daughter’s age and also an Army veteran. Anthony’s smart enough but he always picks the wrong NFL team to follow. Originally from Philadelphia, Anthony’s an easy target to razz about Donavan McNabb and his infamous “chokes” and the loss of four NFC Championships. Anthony doesn’t agree with my assessment and reminds me it’s a team sport. But that’s what old friends do; they give each other a hard time when they cross paths after a long absence. Regarding work, Anthony has convinced me that Camp Salerno is the best place to be as a contractor. Though it’s small it has everything and the surrounding mountain scenery is incredible.
We talked a bit about the current situation and then I picked up a copy of the latest Stars and Stripes. The headlines indicate that the Dutch are the first NATO country to end their combat mission in Afghanistan. I’m concerned about how that will impact our other allies. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.
People from the states keep asking me, “What on earth are you doing in Afghanistan, Jim?” Simply put, I just have to be here. Our sons and daughters are here and I remember 9-11. As a father, I must see where my generation sent our children, our warriors to protect our freedoms and fight our enemies. I’m thankful that my friends and family are safe back home but for now my time is here.
Reporting,
Jim Spiri In The Stan
Candi, I love you and soon I’ll be home.
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All funds go directly to Jim Spiri. The more funds we raise, the more time Jim can remain abroad giving us an unvarnished look at our conflict in Afghanistan. All monies remaining in this account upon his return will be donated to Soldiers’ Angels. Not a single dime will be kept by Jim Spiri, Ranger Up, or Devil Dog Brew.
