Dispatches From Afghanistan: Mouses, Goats, and Snakes Oh My!
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The Jordanians are coming: Specifically the JAF. (Jordanian Armed Forces) They will be living here in my LSA 2. Wonderful. Each of my tents have a capacity of 120 U.S. Marines. They ain’t comphy, but they cozy and U.S. Marines do not complain.
They are Marines. The JAF contingent will top off at one hundred. They have been promised three of my tents. The math doesn’t work for me. I need every tent I have (twenty-four) to serve the Marines who transit through Dwyer on their way to the war.
After some lobbying (and predictions of pissed off Marines who won’t have a tent to sleep in), I got the JAF allocation down to two tents. Why after all these years the Jordanian government has decided to send troops to southern Afghanistan, I am not sure.
But I have a theory: U.S. Department of State. Yep. Not military necessity. Not a request from the coalition of governments already represented here. Not the U.S. Military. Nope. Politics.
I have nothing against Jordan or the Jordanian people. In fact, I love them. I lived and worked in Amman Jordan for six months back in ‘07 while working to close out the paperwork on the USAID Rural Water Project we had completed in Iraq. (Bechtel, the prime contractor, had decided there was no point to continually put our lives at risk in Iraq doing paperwork we could just as easily finish in their Jordan offices).
I had a meeting with the Mayor’s Cell here on Dwyer. (The ‘Mayor’s Cell’ is the term used for the administrative branch of the Marines who actually own Camp Dwyer.) All decisions of the Mayor are final. Except, I found out, when it comes to the JAF and their accommodations. Apprehensive over the impending arrival of the Jordanians, I asked the Mayor, “Does the Mayor’s Cell have any special directive for treatment of the JAF?”
“Not at all Son. Treat ‘em like Marines.”
“Yessir!” (This was the response I had been hoping for)
With the help of the Labor Department and a few of my staff, I readied the two tents for the Jordanians. We were told to expect roughly one hundred men, so we set up fifty-five military cots in each tent. These tents in LSA 2 are best described as ‘Spartan.’
There are four ‘doors’ which are simply canvas flaps about four feet wide. When the wind is up the flaps flap open allowing Afghanistan to blow inside.
The occupants are not allowed to tie the flaps shut, as this creates a safety hazard in the event of a fire—no quick egress. Each of the tents has two HVAC units. They are inadequate for the weather extremes here. The tents are in disrepair. They leak, they sag, they have mold.
I cannot get approval from the Mayor’s Cell through DynCorp to provide anything more than patchy maintenance. “A lick and a promise.” That’s all. They tell me, “No more funding is available for LSA 2. Deal with it.”
I’m ‘A’-Tryin’ Really Hard To Be Happy! & Up_Beat & Remain Positive! Obviously This Will Be A WIP! ‘Work-in-I Digress-Progress!’
Wish Me Luck in My Endeavor!! — And, I’m a-Tryin’ Really Hard to Entertain Y’alls! & NEVah, Evarh, Wanna Waste Yer Finite, Valuable To Me, Spent on Me. Time. This is “Me” in All Truthful Sincerity!
“Are You My Daddy?” “Dunno Girl. You from Olongapo City? PI? Dubai? Or Sydney Aussie? Or Mombasa? Or Hong Kong or Amman, or Tel Aviv, or Cairo? or Waco?
Please tell me Y’all ain’t from Waco! That Would Ruin my day!…. Catch My Drift? Oh Never Mind! What’s your DNA say? If I broke it, I’ll buy it”
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Never mind. I Suppose It’s Possible. Now Be A Dear And Buy Your Ole’ “Daddy” A Beer… Dear? Dear?
Where Ya goin’ Dear?–Come Back Here! I didn’t get my beer!”
(Cannot Properly EDIT This!
Damn You to Hell WordPress!–The Un-Pleasant Parts)
In my mind, I think I have written some incredibly good shit for this here blog, (approaching my one-year anniversary) but then again, who can account for taste?
Certainly not me.
Anyway…
I had some interesting emails of late:
Mostly of the “Jeeze! Yer not dead… I hope.” Strain. (vernacular??)
“No Virginia, I am not dead.”(And No: There ain’t no Santa)
Yet.
Nope. Not yet. (dead: not Santa—try to stay with me here Friends…)
‘So sorry…’
“Maybe next time.” Or as some of my ‘friends’ might say: “Next Year in Jerusalem.”
(But then, that is some other kind of different post, ain’t it?)
I am tired, so I will end this now.
Just wanted to post ‘something’ so that y’all would realize… I am still alive in here.
Peace,
Lance
P.S. Now, that right there is what some might call a virulent (?), brilliant stream of ‘conscientiousness’. Some might, in fact.
Personally, I call ‘bullshit.’ But that is just me.
Cheers Y’all,
Lance
And PPS:
I am gonna volunteer to go to Liberia.
Just to help.
If y’all think I’m jokin’, well then; you don’t know me very well, do you?
Hell! All who know me, know I will risk anything for money! Because ‘money’ is all I care about.”
(And if y’all believe that, well then I am not… aiming… at ‘My Audience’)
And I do have a bridge to sell. (cheap!)
–Lance
Just for fun:
Bob Dylan – George Floyd – RIP
“A Deputy Sheriff approached them in a manner rather rude…”
Bad Idea Officer!
Take Away:
Don’t Fuck With Pretty-Boy Floyd
&
Do NOT
Fuck With Lance
He Looks Nice
But He Bites
Just Some
‘Friendly’
Advice:
Be Nice
Read & Heed
“I Ain’t Never Seen An Outlaw Drive A Family From Their Home”
“A Deputy Sheriff approached them in a manner rather rude…”
I’m ‘A’-Tryin’ Really Hard To Be Happy! & Up_Beat & Remain Positive! Obviously This Will Be A WIP! ‘Work-in-I Digress-Progress!’
Wish Me Luck in My Endeavor!! — And, I’m a-Tryin’ Really Hard to Entertain Y’alls! & NEVah, Evarh, Wanna Waste Yer Finite, Valuable To Me, Spent on Me. Time. This is “Me” in All Truthful Sincerity!
