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MOFFETT from 25
of age with the threat of a Soviet nuclear showdown and subsequent Armaged- don hovering over their existence. So I thought it was an extraordinary rite of passage, to set foot “back in the USSR.” We deplaned and filed into a tent for some lo- cal base indoctrination. There were around 130 soldiers on one side and 130 airmen on the other. And me. I sat with the Army. A briefer said that airmen rated two beers at the recreation facility but that the Army command had decreed that the sol- diers could have no beer. “So does that Marine get all our beer?” asked a soldier, to laughter. (The answer was no.) There would be no beer in Afghanistan, General Or- der #1 precluding military personnel from so-imbib- ing there.
As our vehicles ap- proached the combat out- post, I thought of that great French Foreign Legion movie – “Beau Geste,” starring Gary Coo- per. That movie’s opening scene featured personnel entering a desert fortress, only to find everyone dead. But when we rolled into the isolated Marine com-
THE WEIRS TIMES, Thursday, April 15, 2010
pound, we found it full of life. Dirty Marines were busily moving around, do- ing their jobs. Many were smiling and laughing. I was proud to be in their company.
Afghanistan
I was scheduled to fly on a
C-130 transport into Bagram AFB in Afghanistan within five hours of arriving in Ma- nas. While waiting for my flight in the military terminal I was struck by how many women were in the Army and the Air Force. Females make
up about 6% of the Marine Corps, but the other services feature far larger percentages of women. A young, blonde army lieutenant asked me to watch her rifle when she had to leave the hanger briefly. She returned with a pistol. Women with weapons were everywhere. I knew I wasn’t in Washington D.C., any more. It was a fairly lengthy flight from Manas to Bagram. Me and a plane full of sol- diers. In lieu of earplugs, I plugged into my new I-Pod and settled in for the ride. Hours later I was half awake
Lt. Col. Michael Moffet (right) was greeted by fellow New Hampshirite, Lt Col. Joe Kenney at the U.S. Embassy in Afghanistan. Moffet is the Weirs Times sports correspondent and Kenney is a former state senator and 2008 gubernatorial candidate.
A Soviet tank in Now Zad.
“At the Lights” Downtown Meredith, NH
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when there were explosions and flashes of light outside the transport’s window. The plane descended rap- idly, seemingly doing evasive maneuvers. I figured out this was probably a stan- dard procedure, that the flares the C-130 released were to disrupt any pos- sible surface to air threat. It was not a vivid dream. We soon landed and deplaned. Bagram was another former Soviet base, around which could be found some of the detritus of the USSR’s disas- trous 1979-88 occupation. A Marine major met me as our sea bags were unloaded and said he had a place for me to stay. His boss was in Kabul and I could stay in the vacant room, which was on top of another room, in block style. I was grateful not to have to stay in the terminal. Another C-130 flight would get me to Kabul the next day. The major said he would wake me up at 0400 hours.
At 0300 hours the lit- tle building was shaking. Vi vid dream? No. An earthquake. With thoughts of Haiti and Chile flashing through my mind, I moved to the door, but the tremors ceased. The ma- jor soon came by and asked how I liked the earthquake. “Just fine,” I replied.
The K-Company Command-
er, Captain Geoffry Hollo- peter, briefed the battalion Commander, LtCol Martin Wetterauer, whose call-sign was “Darkside 6.” Recon- naissance teams had already been dispatched. The assault teams would fly out the next morning before first light via MV-22 Marine Ospreys.
The first flight from Bagram
to Kabul was canceled but I was quickly rescheduled onto another. I got out my I-Pod and within a half hour of fly- ing we landed on the military side of the main airport in Kabul. Bags were off-loaded and personnel quickly dis- persed. Supposedly another Marine major was to meet
me, but there was no one there. Soon everyone had disappeared and some mild waves of apprehension ran over me. I needed to get to the embassy, but I was in uniform with three sea bags and a back pack. The only one left in the area was a female Army captain with a rifle and cell phone who had been on our plane. I asked her if I could call the embassy. I left a message there after the captain said she had a ride coming and that they could drop me off. I gratefully accepted. A Land Rover soon pulled up. The captain worked for NCIS and two male civil- ians were there to pick her up. They were armed as well. The captain put a scarf over her head and off we went towards the embassy. The ride was an eye-opener. Kabul traffic was chaotic. Donkey drawn wagons in- terspersed with countless beat up Toyotas. There were police at various intersec- tions, armed with rifles and ominously wearing masks, ostensibly to protect against
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