The Wall came too late.

I'm really not happy right now.

My father just called me on Skype, with tears in his eyes. He just got back from a Memorial Day ceremony, where I'm sure memories of Viernam and the people he left behind there came flooding back to him. This man, as I'm sure most people that were in Vietnam, went through so much shit, and when they came home, the country that they loved so much that they prepared themselves to die EVERY DAY for hated them. Spit in the face, right off the plane. Baby Killer. No work. No love. All because the people of that time didn't understand what the TV was showing them. They lumped the Soldiers with the war.

People get it now. Hindsight is always clearer.

Fast-forward to today. Parades, free college, food on the house, pats on the back. In June, this war on whatever the fuck will break Vietnam's record of being the longest war in American history.

To me, the war in Afghanistan doesn't even touch the hell that must've been Vietnam. Here I am, sitting pretty in an office, or playing with little kids in an orphanage, and getting treated like a hero, where my dad sits on the side of the road watching the parade he never got pass him by. That is bullshit to me. I think that the only real reason I'm getting thanked over and over is because the country as a whole feels like shit for treating those vets the way they did all those years ago.

Well, as one of those Soldiers you consider a hero, let me tell you something. Don't thank me. Don't even think about taking your guilt out on me. Instead, do what you know you should've done so long ago, America, and you walk up to that vet in the park, (you know who I'm talking about. The one in the wheelchair) and you kneel down, and you look him in the eye, and you say thank you, sir. And you fucking say it with some conviction. You say it so all the spit he wiped from his face doesn't matter so much to him anymore.

Don't thank me. I'm not even on that level yet.

P.S. I'm talking personally. I'm not representing the Army as a whole. And the Ultimate sacrifice is total, no matter what war you are in. Don't get my message twisted.

Back from Bamyan, Back to Bagram

So, I've been back from Bamyan for two days now. I gotta say, that my limited time in Afghanistan has given me an interesting perspective on the eastern part of Afghanistan and how the military does its thing in different sections of the country.

Bamyan is, so far, the best province in all of Afghanistan. In terms of counter-insurgency, the New Zealanders (who control the province militarily) have the Hearts and Minds game in the bag.

So, the trip happened the 20th. I buckled into the smallest plane ever made ever. It seated 8 people, and the pilot handed out earplugs. Then he told us of all the safety features, like the exits, the fire extinguishers, the GPS locator beacon and sat phone. That's in case 'we land somewhere other than we are supposed to.' Great.
So, with a flight that showed me that fishtailing in the sky was possible, we landed in Bamyan, on a dirt runway. This was cool, because I could actually see the landing from a pilot's perspective. The plane was really that small.
Getting off the plane gave me yet another image of Afghan beauty. The pictures will be the only real way to tell you what I mean when i say that I was in the most beautiful place imaginable. Panjshir was nice, but Bamyan sweeps Panjshir under the rug.

Picture time!!



So, like I said, I knew something was different with the Kiwis than the Americans right from the get-go. Now, let me say this: Bamyan is much more peaceful than Parwan, (which is where Bagram is, which is where I'm stationed most of the time) and considering the attack that just happened to Bagram about 2 weeks ago, it is totally understandable that the people there are paranoid. So, the laid-back-yet-ready-to-go additude of the Kiwis might be a product of Bamyan. I think it might be the other way around.

I had an amazing time at an orphanage while I was in Bamyan. Now, I have to say here that I love kids. I think that they are awesome. Usually, when I'm around kids, I have my body armor on, with my weapon at the ready. With the Kiwis, it was much more relaxed. I could play with the kids. Now, don't get me wrong and think that the people of New Zealand were not ready and able to defend themselves and the kids of something happened. If you think that, get real. We still are in Afghanistan. But the level of paranoia and alertness was proportional to the situation at hand.



I hope the pictures I took show the amount of awesomeness the kids were. I even let them play with my devil sticks.

I'm sure I'll write more about the Kiwi adventure another day, but as it stands now, it's 22:00, and I've got a 4-mile run tomorrow morning. So, I'm gonna go.

Peace to the three people that read this.

Bamyan Ramble

It takes me by surprise much more than I thought it would, I guess. When I step out, ready to face the day, I glance up and see the mountains that surround me, and sometimes, randomly, it seems, I start laughing. I can't believe I'm here. What started out as a way to shut my dad up turned out to be the adventure of my life. I've been many places, and done may things, but nothing compares to those mountains. I mean, Cheeto has a semi-automatic assault rifle strapped to his back. Who saw this coming?

The only real thing that sucks about this, and it seems to keep coming up, is the severe bouts of homesickness. Having no one to share this adventure with is disheartening sometimes. I mean, sure, I have Army people around me all the time, but they don't really understand what I'm all about, and I'm cool with that. It's to be expected. I'm not someone that belongs in the Army. It's not me at all. But, here I am. So, all I have is the Internet, and sometimes, someone worth talking to is on.

But going solo is a classic trait of mine, I think. I don't like following orders. I like finding out things the hard way. That attitude gives me a lack of friends. But the ones I do have I feel will stick by me for the end of time. I mean, i may not be the most popular kid ever, but I have the most kick-ass fiance. I mean, who can say he has a girl that really GETS him? Its hard to come by, and I thank whatever circumstances led to this situation every chance I get.

I really think that this assignment I'm on will get me my 4. It would be awesome to some home on leave, and sit on that Fourth of July float a specialist. It would be nice to show the people I work with/for that I really DO know what I'm doing.

Plan on pictures of my adventure to Bamyan either Saturday night or Sunday (Afghan time = 4:30+ GMT). I took some really good ones this time.

I'm also thinking about renting a Nikon D300 while I'm on leave. It's what I'm using for work, and I gotta say, there's nothing I've used that comes close.

Village People

So, my laptop's power cord shit the bed. Again. So, I don't know when I'll be able to post again. The government doesn't think that Blogger is an adequate use of military resources, so I can't let the inter-web know what's going on until I get a stable power situation going on. But, I digress.

A couple of cool things happened the last time we talked. the first, and most visual, is that I went on another mission yesterday. It was with the Parwan Provincial Reconstruction Team. We went to this village to preform what is called a village assessment. Bear with the description, because I haven't finished making my article on the situation, so the facts and spellings may be inaccurate.

A village assessment is where they check on the needs and wants of a village. everything from the structural integrity of the buildings to the health and welfare of the place is checked out. So, when we got there, we met with the elders of the village (Those guys are the ones with the turbans, for lack of a better word). Now, we already kinda knew that they weren't happy with us. Let me step back a bit.

The Taliban is 90% Pashtun. This is a tribe of Afghan people. Where I'm at in Afghanistan, there is primarily two types of people; Pahstun and Tajik. Well, on either side of this Pashtun village are Tajik villages, and these two tribes don't really get along with each other. They don't even speak the same language most of the time. Anyway, they were kind of like, 'what the hell?' because the government of Afghanistan (with our help) built a medical clinic in one village, and a school in the other. Why not them? Well, that's what we were there this day to fix. We needed to know what they needed, so we can help everyone. 'We are the world.'



Turns out, they need a lot of stuff. A school (300+ kids are in the village), a clinic (and doctors) because the nearest medical is three days away, and a retaining wall for the floodwaters. A lot of stuff to do.

We met and talked with the villagers for a few hours, with me taking pictures and such. I quickly got distracted, because the people who were there at the talks but not directly involved saw my camera, and wanted pictures of them. that turned into a huge thing, because it seems when people normally take pictures of these people, they never show them the picture. They were so excited to see themselves on the screen. Well, it was cool and all, but I did have a job to do, so it was really hard listening to the talks and taking all these pictures. So, I decided to get information about the talks later, and see what was going on outside. It turned out, school (they have a school, but its in a really poorly constructed building. It rains through the roof on the books and the kids and stuff) just got let out, and there was a mob of kids. I love kids, so I chilled and took pictures of the kids for a bit. And that was pretty much it.


Did the interview for Ultiverse. I think that's what its called. When it's up, I'll post a link.

OH! got my Valentine's Care Package from my fiancée, FINALLY! Its awesome, I must say. Always nice to feel loved. especially on a Monday.

So, I have a day off, so, If my battery works on my computer, I'll post some pictures. whatcha all want to see?

Roy goes to school.

So, now that I'm back from my epic mission, I can tell you all about it!
I went with the Kentucky Agribusiness Development Team (KY ADT) to a school in the Parwan Province. As the pictures will show, the kids had a good time. Its really humbling to see all the smiles on these little guys, considering how little they have. I mean, look at the slide. The mold. The floor. The chalkboard. It really is sad here sometimes, but that's because we take things for granted.



So, check them out, and let me know what you think.
I got back in touch with my old high school math teacher and Ultimate coach, Josh Seamon. I'm going to be in a podcast that he runs. I kinda feel like a celibrity these days.
Also, I'm starting playing a game called EVE Online. Anyone ever heard of it? I'll let you know how it is after I've played it a while.
So, I'm tired, and I don't have much to say.
Maybe tomorrow?

Feasts and Fortunes

I have a mission tomorrow. I can't really tell yall what I'll be up to, because of the whole fact that I'm in a war zone and such. But let me just say this: It is gonna be boring as Hades. Is that how you spell Hades? Anyway, that's what's going on tomorrow.
I watched American History X last night. Is it wrong for me to almost 100% agree with what Edward Norton says in one of his monologues in the movie? This is the one I'm talking about:
"Alright, listen up: We need to open our eyes. There's over 2,000,000 illegal immigrants bedding down in this state, tonight. This state spent 3,000,000,000 dollars last year on services for those people who had no right to be here in the first place. 3 billion dollars. 400 million dollars just to lock up a bunch of illegal immigrant criminals who only got into this country because the fuckin' INS decided it's not worth the effort to screen for convicted felons.
Who gives a shit? Our government doesn't give a shit. Our border policy is a joke. So is anybody surprised that south of the border. they're laughing at us? Laughing at our laws? Every night, thousands of these parasites stream across the border like some fuckin' pinata exploded. Don't laugh. there's nothing funny going on here. this is about your life and mine. Its about decent, hardworking Americans falling through the cracks and getting the shaft because their government cares more about the constitutional rights of a bunch of people who aren't even citizens of this country!
On the Statue of Liberty it says: Give me your tired, your hungry, your poor. Well, its Americans who are tired and hungry and poor. I say until you take care of that, close the fuckin book."
Well, maybe not 100%. The pinata thing was a little excessive.
What do you think?

Stuck in Panjhir Part Uno

So there I was, no shit, Bagram, Afghanistan.....

It all began about 11:30 in the morning. I went to the supply room, where I was told that I would be 'babysitting' a few .50 cal machine guns and ammo to FOB Lion in Panjhir. I was really excited about this, because, after all, the only real way to get to FOB Lion was by helicopter, and, even though it would be for 15 minutes, I was excited to go on my first ever ride on one. We got to the flight line at 12:00, like we were supposed to. We waited around for 15 minutes. 30 minutes. An hour. 2 hours. Finally, after 2 hours, we heard the familiar sound of the dreaded Blackhawk. WHUMPA-WHUMPA-WHUMPA.

There were two of them, looking as mean as they ever did in the War movies. The pilots waved me and my .50 Cal carrying crew to the 'bird'. I noted at this time, late, I assume, that the others were not wearing body armor and a helmet like I was. Was there something that these two knew that I didn't? Was I overdressed for the occasion? Apparently not, because as soon as the .50 cal and ammo were loaded into the helicopter, the two waved me goodbye, and headed away from the helicopter. Well, I wasn't about to miss an opportunity to ride a 'bird' for the first time, so in I went.



Strapping myself into the Blackhawk, I noticed something odd about this experience right away. It was EXACTLY like I thought it would be. This was odd, because this NEVER happened. As soon as I got buckled in, the thing lifted off like something this big and heavy was totally meant to fly. Which I guess it was. Anyway, the home I've come to know for the last month looked totally different from the air. Then things got completely foreign. Houses, or what I thought had to be houses, dotted the landscape like a grid. Everything in this valley looked like it was part of a scatter plot or something. Brown housed made of mud being the point that represented one part, and the square fields where god-knows what grew representing something
else.

I noticed, after taking hundreds of what seemed to be the same picture over and over again, that the mountains that I've always wished to climb but where so far away were coming ever closer. Then came the area there the grass and trees suddenly stopped and the ground got steeper. And steeper. And then came the moments where the trees went out of view from my window and the mountains were all around me. It was like I was IN a lord of the rings movie. Seriously. And the weirdest part was in the most oddest of places, places where it would be impossible to get to, there were houses. People LIVED in these mountains. The pictures I took are the only things that can do any amount of justice to these things. Well, after we crossed the mountain pass, we started our slow decent down, never being more than what seemed like 100 feet above these things. The ground came closer, and little dots that I knew were cars and people were slowly getting more and more definition. A river that went between the mountains, following the same path that we were traveling, opened up, and a huge patch of dry river bed loomed out in front of us. We touched down, with nigh a bump. The doors were opened by pilots, and the machine guns were pulled out by soldiers and they were beginning to carry them to some humvees parked about 50 yards away. This was odd for two reasons. One, I was told that I would be giving these weapons to a sergeant major who was driving a truck, and two, I was under the impression that humvees weren't used in Afghanistan. The threat of IEDS and such made the use of the MRAPS standard throughout the country. Before I got the time to contemplate this situation, one of the pilots that opened the doors pointed at me and yelled something to me, but the noise of the Blackhawk’s blades overhead drowned any and all hope of ever hearing what he said. He seemed to understand this, and he pointed at me, then himself, and then the humvees that my machine guns were being loaded into. I shook my head, and then he pointed at me, and then the humvees. I took this to be a direction to go to the humvees, so I grabbed my gear, and headed in the direction of the trucks.

Without warning, the engine of the Blackhawk changed pitch, and I was almost thrown to the ground by wind. Dirt and dust and rocks splattered everything, and I did all I could to protect my face and my dear camera. I knew what the dirt in my eyes meant. It could only mean one thing. My ride was leaving me. Unable to do anything but watch, I did the only thing a person in my situation could do. I took pictures of the departing Blackhawks. The Soldiers, who turned out to be mostly members of the Air force, looked at me, and said, Welcome to Panjhir!'

I stared at them, dumbstruck. They had no idea what had happened. Neither did I.