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enemy drug processing and transit locations. I looked to the front and saw the lead vehicle bouncing over the rocks. I looked to the rear and observed a similar ve- hicle, relentlessly moving for- ward. The view was framed by an awesome backdrop of Afghanistan’s towering Hindu Kush mountains. I wondered what the next day would br ing. And then I pondered about
THE WEIRS TIMES, Thursday, April 15, 2010
how I’d ended up in such ex- traordinary circumstances.
Pre-Deployment in Quantico
A message from the Marine
Corps in December alerted me to expect orders to travel to Afghanistan as a field historian. I’d been doing re- serve assignments with the USMC’s History Division at Marine Corps University in Quantico, Va., and was col- laborating with a retired gen-
eral on a monograph/book detailing the history of the Marine Corps Cold Weather and Mountain operations at the Mountain Warfare Train- ing Center in Bridgeport, California. MWTC was once seen as a logical training site to prepare for Afghan opera- tions. Also, my background as an infantry officer, history teacher, college professor and writer meshed well with the mission requirements. And I’d done pretty well on my
Outside a Kabul Military Compound.
A Marine haircut in Afghanistan.
latest physical fitness test. I’d also received orders eight years earlier, after 9/11, to serve on General Tommy Franks’ Central Command Joint Staff for the beginning of what came to be called Op- eration Enduring Freedom. Who knew then that the op- eration would still be going on in 2010 and that I’d again re- ceive orders to serve in what is now America’s longest war? So in January I reported to Marine Base-Quantico in Vir- ginia for extended pre-deploy- ment training. There was a lot to do including much on-line work, weapons training, get- ting country clearances and making travel arrangements.
A training requirement in- cluded egressing from a ve- hicle that had flipped over. Then there was dental and medical. Lots of shots and immunizations, for every- thing from anthrax to small pox. Malaria pills were pre- scribed. I had the option of daily pills or a weekly pill that had the likely side effect of inducing vivid dreams. “Bring on the vivid dreams,” I said, remembering my 1990- 91 Persian Gulf deployment when entertainment in the desert was sorely lacking.
Our convoy passed near an
impoverished Afghan village. An excited little boy darted
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