some letters I wrote home:
Holidays in Kabul
well, it's 0-dark-stupid. I'd just finished radio watch, was almost asleep, when some dumb*ss downtown set off a bomb or launched a rocket. Right. Wide awake again.
hmmmm, sounds like fast air flying over the city.
"Peace on Earth." Hopefully, someday.
I wish everyone a truly happy holiday season. Especially those boys and girls deployed out there on the sharp end. Be safe, be careful. Those of you at home, please enjoy the silly season to the fullest. It's the best 'thank you' we can receive. To know that you folks are safe and happy, and can enjoy this time of year with loved ones is what makes this job worthwhile.
Today, I spent 2 hours settling a property dispute (complete with death threats and armed intimidation). The stupid part is that both sides wanted the exact same thing. But neither side would listen to what the other was saying! No wonder these people have been at war for 30 years. They're annoying as hell! I've only been here 5 months, and I want to shoot some of them. Imagine living your whole life with irritating people all around you and constant access to automatic weaponry! Took me 10 minutes to get it sorted out, then they'd start arguing again. Even though they'd already agreed on the solution!
Dumb*sses.
All the best of the season to everyone out there, regardless of faith.
Joyeaux Noel
Feliz Navidad
Merry Christmas.
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letter to a young schoolgirl from me
22 Oct 03
Hello Grace,
Before I truly begin, I must apologize for typing this letter. It's kinda impersonal, I know. However, if you were to actually see my handwriting, you would understand, believe me. My wife is the only person I know who can actually decipher the hieroglyphics I call writing. (Chicken-scratches are a more accurate term.)
I am a soldier in 6 Platoon, November Company, 3RCR. It's an infantry battalion. I'm currently posted to Camp Julien, Kabul, Afghanistan, in the ?heart of the mysterious Orient?.
Although I come from a small immediate family, with just my little sister and I, I have many, many cousins, nieces, nephews, and about a bazillion dogs. We get together every chance we get and spend as much time together as we can, so I can relate to a chaotic family life. Besides, I've been in the army for somewhere around 8 or 9 years, and we excel at chaos.
In your letter, you asked what it's like to be so far from home. Well, I spend most of my life away from home, but you never really get used to it. It doesn't much matter whether you're in south-West Asia or just in the woods around CFB Petawawa, you're still 'away', if you know what I mean. You're still out of contact with your loved ones and away from the creature comforts we all take for granted. (I tend to spend the first 2 days back just staring at the TV. Oohh, pretty colours, moving lights.)
As for your questions about what it's like to be in a place where people don't want you, and to live under the threat of attack. Tough questions. Well, first, you called them â Å“dumb questionsâ Å“. There are no â Å“dumb questionsâ Å“. The only way we learn is by asking, right? I mean, if you don't know the answer, then the question isn't dumb, is it? (There are, however, dumb answers. I get a lot of them myself, and have even given a few.)
Second, the vast majority of Afghani people do, in fact, want us here. I know this, because they tell us so at every available opportunity. It only stands to reason, really. These poor people have been at war for more years than you've been alive. 25 years, actually. Man, I was just a kid of eight, when the Soviets sponsored a coup in 1978, then invaded in 1979. There's been a constant state of warfare ever since. With all the horrors and terror that usually accompany Man's most tragic activity: War. On top of warfare (with the attendant rapine, pillage, disease, and poverty) the entire nation has been suffering from a six-year drought. Wouldn't anyone welcome someone who was willing to put a stop to the warlords and bandits marauding the countryside? Anyone who was bringing safety and security to the nation? I know I would. The Afghanis know that Canada is here to help and they are grateful. Heart-wrenchingly so.
Third, hmmm?. living under constant threat of attack. That's a difficult question to answer, really. Well, you fall back on your training, your instincts, and that ridiculous belief we all have that â Å“it won't happen to meâ Å“. In all honesty, I can't say that I think about it much. A sense of fatalism helps, I suppose. If your number's up, then it's up. There's a cheesy Army saying I've always found amusing (in a dark sort of way). â Å“It's not the bullet with your name on it, it's the one marked 'to whom it may concern'.â ? I lost a very good friend and a role model a little while ago. But that's the risk we volunteer to take, I guess. I dunno. Someone has to do it, and if we don't, who will? I'd rather face the risks myself than have someone else do it. Besides, I'd much rather stop the fighting and terrorism over here, than have to face it in Canada.
How do we deal with the loneliness and fear? Is that what you were getting at? We form bonds of friendship that are even closer than family ties. We in the Infantry, especially, use humour. (Mind you, it's a dark, cynical, sarcastic form of humour, for the most part.) I've found that laughter is usually your best defence against the darker emotions. There's always something funny in even the worst circumstances. And when you are surrounded by Man's inhumanity to Man, you either laugh at it, or spend your time crying. And that accomplishes nothing.
What's it like in Afghanistan? Totally unique. In some ways, it's like living in an Indiana Jones movie. Like stepping back in time. You can touch a wall that's stood since the time of Alexander the Great. With a satellite dish on top of it. Bizarre. I love it here, personally. I'm glad to be on a real mission. I find the people here to be a reflection of their country. It's a nation of tall, bleak mountains. Imposing, aloof, appearing untouchable. But with beautiful valleys hidden away. Their homes are the same. Stone walls, barred doors, narrow firing-port windows. But the interior is a riot of colour. Tapestries, curtains, carpets, pillows, orchards, and gardens. The Afghan people are the same. Grim and serious at first glance, but underneath they are warm, humorous, and generous to a fault.
What would I change the most? It's the children and the animals that tear at your heartstrings the most. They live a life that is horrifying by North American standards. But, they still laugh and play. What else can they do? And, with the help of the International Community, things will get better. Circumstances here improve every day. And Canadian soldiers are a big part of that. I?m proud of my boys. I'm proud to say, â Å“I'm a Canadian soldierâ Å“ again, and it feels good. We are a positive force here. We're doing a good thing.
If your teacher (what was his name, Mr. G.?) would like, I can e-mail him some pics of the city, the countryside, the people, and the troops.
So, to you, Grace M., I say â Å“Thank youâ Å“. Thank you for your letter. Thank you for taking the time to write to a stranger. Thank you for your good wishes. I hope you have a long life, full of laughter, love, and joy. Treasure your family (even when they're really annoying). Be happy
