For Thanksgiving, the ship dressed up the wardroom, dimmed down the lights and put out a nice T-day spread and, for a brief moment, it was almost like being home. Sure it was. I don't know too many folks who live in a gray tin can with 5,500 other roommates but what can you do! We had flights later in the day scheduled, so scores of aircrew had to fight off the triptofan nods during their 6 hour flights over Afghanistan. Can you see the headlines now? "US Fighter Down Over Afghanistan. Turkey Overdose Suspected. Should Have Gone For The Dry Ham." The flights over Afghanistan continue. The country's landscape reminds me of northern Nevada (without the casinos). As you cross over the southern border with Pakistan, you are met by hundreds of miles of desert. After the "Desert of Death" (as the charts call it), you get into rolling hills and occasional 2000' mountain ranges. From about mid-Afghanistan and north, the country turns into dark brown mountains that max out around 13,000 feet. Snow tops a majority of these peaks which remind me off the area surrounding Fallon, NV (one of our training areas). As you near the northern border by the "-stans" (Uzbeki and Turkmeni), the mountains start phasing off and work down back into light brown, sandy plains.-Off to the northeast are big snow-capped ranges that reach up to 25,000-feet. Overall, extremely rugged looking terrain in Afghan. To date, I have not seen one tree. The rural areas are littered with villages that are filled with collections of roofless, four walled structures that appear to be abandoned. The "cities" are completely unremarkable and colorless with no structure being any taller than 2 stories. The only color I've seen in these cities besides the ever present light brown hue is the occasional red streak coming from the Taliban gunners as they open up with their anti aircraft artillery. There is some farm land present, but it is infrequent and minimal. In a nutshell, Afghanistan is a giant pile of brown to light brown rocks that is bordered to the south and north by huge deserts and bordered to the east by an even bigger pile of rocks. The only signs of life that I have seen are vehicles (Toyota appears to be the SUV of choice) moving on one of the country's three main highways, some lights in the smaller towns at night and Taliban tough guys running from their convoy of military vehicles right before multiple weapons impacts. The bombs keep falling on the Taliban. Sometimes you get in country and drop, sometimes you can't. As you can gather from all of the news coverage, the ground picture is changing radically and as a result, the air strike players are a bit more restrained. That's OK though because it serves to further cut the Air Force out of the picture. Designed to fight a war against an immobile enemy with fixed targets, the USAF is having a hard time with this fluid battlefield stuff, scenarios to which the USN/USMC routinely train. I'm sure they'll do fine when they get their 13,000 foot runways built in--oh, that's right they don't have any runways nearby. Guess those boys should have invested in some carrier decks a few years back. Realize that the previous statements are heavily biased and ridiculously true. Funny Stories A few funny stories for you before I sign off. Talked previously about the air to air refueling that goes on over here. Over time, you get a feel for who the cool tanker drivers are and who the dolts are. The dolts? Air Force guys, of course. Love all the gas they carry, but they have no personality whatsoever (big shocker there). Cool tanker guys? The Royal Air Force! Love these guys. They will always go the extra mile (literally) to make sure you get your gas when and where you need it. The RAF tankers are ALWAYS on station and on time. Apparently, the F-14 is their favorite platform so as an added benefit post tanking, you can pull up along side the pilot's window and he'll shove some literature up against the window for your perusal (your guess on the type of literature displayed). A few days ago, we were directed to hang on this RAF tanker's wing until we received mission tasking. After about 10 minutes, I decide to strike up a conversation with the crew (we monitor the same frequency while getting gas) to kill time. Thus began the comedy. After a 30 minute exchange of good hearted jabs, the pilot delivered a challenge to our flight of two. But first, let me explain a little bit about in-flight refueling. As I have mentioned earlier, to get gas airborne we have to put out a refueling probe which extends out from the right side of the jet about 2 feet outboard and forward of the pilot's head. The tanker is dragging a 20 foot hose which ends in a basket that looks similar to a badminton "birdie". The basket is about 2 feet in diameter. Now the hard part of tanking at 300 MPH is getting in the basket, because as you near the basket, the air disturbance created by the nose of your jet causes the basket to move up and away from you. Also thrown into the moving basket equation is general air turbulence, as well as the "ham fist" of the pilot who is flying the tanker. Sometimes you get in the first time, sometimes it takes a couple of stabs. Where was I? Oh yeah, so this RAF guy says, "If you F-14 chaps are truly America's Finest Fighter Aircraft (my quote from a previous discussion), then you should have no problem getting into the basket first time, right?" I respond with, "Yeah, I usually bat about .900 with these poorly designed Brit baskets. The problem is that when I get in close, find myself thinking about Margaret Thatcher naked, get sick to my stomach and miss the basket. Tell you what, we'll put a case of beer on both Tomcats getting in the first time." Did I mention that he's flying a DC-9 type tanker where a basket comes off of each wing tip which exacerbates (thank you thesaurus) the turbulence problem by virtue of the rough air flow over the wingtip? Screw it. Bet's on. The call finally comes for us to go hit some targets and it's time to get topped off. Pressure's on. I head over to the tanker's left wing, my wingman over to his right and as we are closing in I tell my wingman, "Now Moses, as you get in close, try not to think about all of the great English warriors of the past: the Spice Girls, Boy George, Wham UK, and Dame Edna. Just free your mind and be the basket." A couple of corrections later and just as I plug (on the first attempt) I scream over the radio, "Revolutionary War, baby!" "Moses" was good on his first attempt so the final score was US-2, England-0. I doubt we'll see the beer but who would want a case of shitty warm Brit beer anyway. Beer Rations Speaking of beer, somewhere in the Navy regulations it's written down that for every 45 consecutive days that you spend at sea without a port call, you rate two beers. Two weeks ago, they broke out 10,000 beers for the crew to tear into for this deployment's first of many "beer days". With beer day fast approaching, multiple discussions erupted in the Ready Room over how to best maximize the beer day allotment. Do you starve yourself for two days to increase the "buzz" potential? How about giving blood 2 hours prior to assist in decreasing the amount of blood in your alcohol system? Do you nurse your two beers over a two hour span or just chug 'em and ride the wave? Which type of beer gives you the most bang for the buck? Fosters? Yengling? MGD? All very important and crucial questions. After much mental anguish and repeated calls to the flight surgeon inquiring about blood donor opportunities, I decided on the "full fed, Fosters chug" gameplan. Rumor has it that over 22,000 beers were killed. Hmmm .... 5,500 person crew, 2 beers per person hey someone went through the line more than once! No comment. Only 20 days until our next beer day, so I will take inputs on any improvements to my gameplan! One last thing before I complete my novella Please remember in your thoughts and prayers every single enlisted sailor that is slugging it out here on the USS TR. The aviator types have it easy in that we get to leave this ship for 6 fu- filled hours to fly into a foreign hostile land and blow stuff up. We have variety and excitement in our days. Think of that 19-year-old kid up on the flight deck 17 hours a day, fixing the same jets day in and day out while maintaining the same daily routine. Imagine doing that for over 70 days straight (only two days off in the last 6 weeks). He looks forward to 4 things: 1) getting off his feet for 5 minutes, 2) eating bland Navy chow, 3) sleeping in a cluttered space shared by 239 other sailors, and 4) port calls. His variety and excitement comes mainly during inport visits and, to date, we have had none and oh, by the way, there isn't one in the near or even distant future. They are the real heroes of Operation Enduring Freedom because it is through their efforts that we are able to launch and ultimately defend American shores. Through it all, you rarely hear one complaint from these kids despite the fact that they are working harder than anyone on this planet in the most dangerous "off ice space" on Earth, the flight deck of an aircraft carrier. Hope this email finds you all safe and having a great Holiday Season. Don't worry about us, we are doing great out here. I can honestly say that there is no other place in the world I'd rather be than right here, right now, sticking it to the Taliban. Back to Dispatch January 2002 Table of Contents Back to Dispatch List of Issues Back to MagWeb Master Magazine List © Copyright 2001 by HMGS Mid-South This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other military history articles and gaming articles are available at http://www.magweb.com