Last night I caught up with my friend Peggy whose husband recently was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. I told her how intimidated I used to be by Colonels when I first became an Army wife. Until, that is, this took place:
We were at a battalion bbq and Hail and Farewell ceremony at a Savannah Sand Gnats game...
When it came time to eat, I stood in line for my food. Max was standing nearby, talking to other Rangers. I wear glasses when I drive, and after the following situation happened, Max suggested I that wear them all the time. Once I had my plate full, I shifted away from the food table to look for Max. I have always said that identifying Max with other Rangers around was hard for me...they all sort of looked the same in uniform.
At this event, no one was in uniform so, theoretically, this shouldn't have taken place.
Convinced I had spotted Max talking in a small group of men, I quietly approached their circle, with my food in hand. As I eased my way next to Max, well at least, I thought it was Max, I gazed around the group and but did not recognize a soul. “Maybe these are all people he has not introduced me to yet,” I thought to myself. With that, I looked up only to see that in fact, I was not standing next to my husband at all. Embarrassed, I smiled and quietly reversed myself from their circle before interrupting their conversation. I was hoping no one had even noticed me. Luckily, I immediately saw my friend and rushed up to her.
“Oh my gosh, I am completely mortified, do you think everyone saw?” I began. “I thought Max was in that group over there and went to their circle and stood next to that guy, thinking he was Max,” I said without taking a breath.
My friend laughed and asked, “Which guy did you think was Max?”
“Well, I can’t see distances too well, obviously, and I thought that one wearing the orange-ish shirt was him. Max is wearing the same khaki shorts and the same color shirt,” I remarked, trying to convince myself that anyone would have confused the two.
“Um, that guy that you’re talking about is the Colonel,” she said bursting into hysterics.
“What?” I exclaimed, horrified.
“There’s Max, over there,” she said pointing. I walked over to Max wanting to melt away from the embarrassment.
“You will never believe what I just did,” I whispered to him.
He looked nervous, “should I sit down?”
“No, no, it’s not that bad, at least I don’t think it is that bad,” I assured him.
I told him what had happened and he did not believe me. My friend came over to us, nudged me and jokingly asked, “so did the Colonel have anything interesting to say?”
Max's eyes were as wide as could be!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Army wives
There are some tried and true Army wives out there. Their bumper stickers so zealously display: “I married my hero.” “Half my heart is in Iraq.” “Army Wife: Toughest Job in the Army.” I’d see them on cars around Savannah, particularly on post. In fact, Max gave my mom a Ranger Battalion yellow ribbon magnet for her car that said, “Sua Sponte (of one’s own will),” which was the slogan for his unit: the 1/75 (1st Ranger Battalion, 75 Infantry Regiment). My mom’s car might be one of ten that I’ve ever seen driving around San Francisco with a military ribbon on affixed to its trunk…in four years.
I have met women whose entire identity unequivocally embodies being a military wife. While it would never occur to me to even think of these bumper sticker slogans as a part of my everyday life, they were not all together untrue. The “stand by your man” mentality was ardently carried out by many Army wives. Some wore their husband’s unit as a pendant around their neck. Max, actually once brought me a pendant with the Ranger crest on one side and Saint Michael, the Patron of Paratroopers (yes, indeed there is one, I looked it up) on the other.
“All the wives wear them,” he explained, handing it to me. Of course, not all of the wives wore them, but several did. I remember looking at it, thinking that I might wear it. But, I never did. In fact, I never wore necklaces period...not even on my wedding day. I kept it in my jewelry box though, with the other jewelry I rarely wore and did appreciate its sentiment. Every so often Max asked me why I never wore it. I told him that I will, one day. And who knows, maybe I will. There were also wives who had their husband’s unit tattooed on their ankle.
Now that’s commitment.
I have met women whose entire identity unequivocally embodies being a military wife. While it would never occur to me to even think of these bumper sticker slogans as a part of my everyday life, they were not all together untrue. The “stand by your man” mentality was ardently carried out by many Army wives. Some wore their husband’s unit as a pendant around their neck. Max, actually once brought me a pendant with the Ranger crest on one side and Saint Michael, the Patron of Paratroopers (yes, indeed there is one, I looked it up) on the other.
“All the wives wear them,” he explained, handing it to me. Of course, not all of the wives wore them, but several did. I remember looking at it, thinking that I might wear it. But, I never did. In fact, I never wore necklaces period...not even on my wedding day. I kept it in my jewelry box though, with the other jewelry I rarely wore and did appreciate its sentiment. Every so often Max asked me why I never wore it. I told him that I will, one day. And who knows, maybe I will. There were also wives who had their husband’s unit tattooed on their ankle.
Now that’s commitment.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Adult proms
We're counting down now...July is approaching! I've gotten a few emails detailing upcoming events and celebrations that occur once Max's unit is home. There is a homecoming ball (sounds eerily like high school, right?). Military balls are actually a lot of fun. I remember getting ready for the 1st one I ever went to in Savannah when he was with 1/75:
I always joke with Max because he defies the whole “men are always waiting for women to get ready” saying. The evening of the ball was no exception. I think I was ready and waiting about forty-five minutes while Max was still sitting on the edge of the couch adjusting the ribbons and awards on the breast of his uniform.
After trying to figure out what exactly it was he was doing holding a ruler up to the pins on his uniform, I finally just broke down and asked, “what in the world are you doing to your uniform and what is with the sewing tools?”
Max explained that there is a proper way to wear decorations; they had to be measured for precision or they would not be right. He had even gone as far as to print out the order of how the ribbons and medals should be placed on his uniform.
It was a pretty high maintenance moment for him and he was extremely serious about it, so my joking around about it didn't go over too well. :)
I always joke with Max because he defies the whole “men are always waiting for women to get ready” saying. The evening of the ball was no exception. I think I was ready and waiting about forty-five minutes while Max was still sitting on the edge of the couch adjusting the ribbons and awards on the breast of his uniform.
After trying to figure out what exactly it was he was doing holding a ruler up to the pins on his uniform, I finally just broke down and asked, “what in the world are you doing to your uniform and what is with the sewing tools?”
Max explained that there is a proper way to wear decorations; they had to be measured for precision or they would not be right. He had even gone as far as to print out the order of how the ribbons and medals should be placed on his uniform.
It was a pretty high maintenance moment for him and he was extremely serious about it, so my joking around about it didn't go over too well. :)
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Attacks Signal End Of Poppy Harvest In Afghanistan
by The Associated Press
GHUNDY GHAR, Afghanistan May 7, 2010, 02:32 pm ET
npr.org
The gunfire and explosions echoing across this Taliban-infested district in southern Afghanistan on Friday signaled the end of the opium poppy harvest as militants again turned their attention from agriculture to attacking NATO and Afghan forces.
U.S. Army soldiers perched on this small hilltop base in Kandahar province's Zhari district had a ringside seat to the early morning fighting. It snapped a lull in violence that had lasted almost three weeks while the Taliban focused on taxing the poppy crop, one of its main sources of revenue.
Building up resources is especially important for the Taliban this year as NATO is ramping up its latest military operation in Kandahar, the group's spiritual heartland. Military commanders have characterized the Kandahar mission as the make-or-break battle of the nearly 9-year-old war.
"This is the most gunfire that has happened in weeks," said Staff Sgt. Aaron Christensen, looking down from Strong Point Ghundy Ghar as helicopter gunships pounded Taliban militants who had attacked a U.S. patrol about 1.5 miles (2.5 kilometers) away. "The poppy harvest is definitely over."
Afghanistan produces the raw opium used to make 90 percent of the world's heroin, and the Taliban earn about $300 million per year off the trade, according to the United Nations.
Kandahar itself produced about 16 percent of Afghanistan's opium poppies in 2009, the second-largest amount after neighboring Helmand province. The key districts in Kandahar for poppy are Zhari, Panjwai and Maiwand.
"I really underestimated how much the poppy harvest would impact the Taliban's operations out here," said Capt. Ryan Sheeran, the company commander whose First Platoon is currently based at Ghundy Ghar but also operates in Maiwand. "Taliban operations literally went down to nothing."
That all changed abruptly on Friday. The morning dawned with a roadside bomb attack against Afghan army troops as they traveled along the main highway that runs through Kandahar about a mile (2 kilometers) north of Ghundy Ghar, said Lt. Jonathan Lessman, the commander of First Platoon. The blast triggered an intense firefight that lasted nearly 10 minutes.
About an hour later, militants holed up in a mud compound attacked a U.S. platoon that had set up a temporary observation post east of Ghundy Ghar, Lessman said. Over the next 30 minutes, the soldiers responded with a punishing barrage of grenades and gunfire, while Kiowa helicopters pounded the militants with rockets, sending up clouds of dust and smoke.
It was unclear if there were any casualties from the two incidents.
The U.S. soldiers who were attacked were based at another small outpost in Zhari called Strong Point Lako Khel, which has been a favorite target of Taliban militants because it doesn't enjoy the same defensive hilltop position as Ghundy Ghar.
Both outposts fall under the command of 2nd Battalion, 1st Infantry Regiment, which has responsibility for providing security in western Zhari and Maiwand.
"Now that the harvest is ending, we will definitely see an increase in roadside bombs on the highway and attacks against Afghan and coalition troops," said Lessman.
The Taliban have a strong presence in Maiwand, Zhari and Panjwai, with the latter two districts almost entirely under the militant group's control.
Afghan government efforts to eradicate poppy in the three districts in 2007 and 2008 boosted support for the Taliban from farmers who relied on the militant group to protect their crop.
NATO forces who now patrol the districts have tried to counter that dynamic by telling farmers they will not target their crops but will go after smugglers who take the opium to market — a fine line that is often difficult to walk.
The Taliban have tried to disrupt that message in Zhari and Maiwand, telling farmers that coalition helicopters have been spraying chemicals to destroy this year's poppy crop. The fabrication has gotten some traction because disease and lack of water have reduced this year's harvest by 75 percent compared to 2009, according to farmers.
Lessman, the platoon commander, has tried to counter the Taliban's message as he and his men patrol through poppy fields around Ghundy Ghar that are still dotted with a few workers finishing the harvest. But he is even more focused on keeping his men alert for potential danger.
"The problem with the lull in violence was that it allowed soldiers to get complacent," said Lessman. "Now it's back to business as usual."
by The Associated Press
GHUNDY GHAR, Afghanistan May 7, 2010, 02:32 pm ET
npr.org
The gunfire and explosions echoing across this Taliban-infested district in southern Afghanistan on Friday signaled the end of the opium poppy harvest as militants again turned their attention from agriculture to attacking NATO and Afghan forces.
U.S. Army soldiers perched on this small hilltop base in Kandahar province's Zhari district had a ringside seat to the early morning fighting. It snapped a lull in violence that had lasted almost three weeks while the Taliban focused on taxing the poppy crop, one of its main sources of revenue.
Building up resources is especially important for the Taliban this year as NATO is ramping up its latest military operation in Kandahar, the group's spiritual heartland. Military commanders have characterized the Kandahar mission as the make-or-break battle of the nearly 9-year-old war.
"This is the most gunfire that has happened in weeks," said Staff Sgt. Aaron Christensen, looking down from Strong Point Ghundy Ghar as helicopter gunships pounded Taliban militants who had attacked a U.S. patrol about 1.5 miles (2.5 kilometers) away. "The poppy harvest is definitely over."
Afghanistan produces the raw opium used to make 90 percent of the world's heroin, and the Taliban earn about $300 million per year off the trade, according to the United Nations.
Kandahar itself produced about 16 percent of Afghanistan's opium poppies in 2009, the second-largest amount after neighboring Helmand province. The key districts in Kandahar for poppy are Zhari, Panjwai and Maiwand.
"I really underestimated how much the poppy harvest would impact the Taliban's operations out here," said Capt. Ryan Sheeran, the company commander whose First Platoon is currently based at Ghundy Ghar but also operates in Maiwand. "Taliban operations literally went down to nothing."
That all changed abruptly on Friday. The morning dawned with a roadside bomb attack against Afghan army troops as they traveled along the main highway that runs through Kandahar about a mile (2 kilometers) north of Ghundy Ghar, said Lt. Jonathan Lessman, the commander of First Platoon. The blast triggered an intense firefight that lasted nearly 10 minutes.
About an hour later, militants holed up in a mud compound attacked a U.S. platoon that had set up a temporary observation post east of Ghundy Ghar, Lessman said. Over the next 30 minutes, the soldiers responded with a punishing barrage of grenades and gunfire, while Kiowa helicopters pounded the militants with rockets, sending up clouds of dust and smoke.
It was unclear if there were any casualties from the two incidents.
The U.S. soldiers who were attacked were based at another small outpost in Zhari called Strong Point Lako Khel, which has been a favorite target of Taliban militants because it doesn't enjoy the same defensive hilltop position as Ghundy Ghar.
Both outposts fall under the command of 2nd Battalion, 1st Infantry Regiment, which has responsibility for providing security in western Zhari and Maiwand.
"Now that the harvest is ending, we will definitely see an increase in roadside bombs on the highway and attacks against Afghan and coalition troops," said Lessman.
The Taliban have a strong presence in Maiwand, Zhari and Panjwai, with the latter two districts almost entirely under the militant group's control.
Afghan government efforts to eradicate poppy in the three districts in 2007 and 2008 boosted support for the Taliban from farmers who relied on the militant group to protect their crop.
NATO forces who now patrol the districts have tried to counter that dynamic by telling farmers they will not target their crops but will go after smugglers who take the opium to market — a fine line that is often difficult to walk.
The Taliban have tried to disrupt that message in Zhari and Maiwand, telling farmers that coalition helicopters have been spraying chemicals to destroy this year's poppy crop. The fabrication has gotten some traction because disease and lack of water have reduced this year's harvest by 75 percent compared to 2009, according to farmers.
Lessman, the platoon commander, has tried to counter the Taliban's message as he and his men patrol through poppy fields around Ghundy Ghar that are still dotted with a few workers finishing the harvest. But he is even more focused on keeping his men alert for potential danger.
"The problem with the lull in violence was that it allowed soldiers to get complacent," said Lessman. "Now it's back to business as usual."
Saturday, May 8, 2010
For Mother's Day
I knew I needed to go to the hospital on July 3rd, 2008. My due date was Bastille Day, July 14th, but something told me it was going to be sooner. Since it was the 4th of July weekend, traffic on highway 95 was insane. But, we had to go, so Max grabbed my bag and off we went...in his truck. Ft. Belvoir Army Hospital was our destination.
“Maybe it’s just a false alarm?” I wondered aloud.
“Well, it's better to be sure.” My mom (who was in town from San Francisco)replied.
“Yeah,” I said, “I know, I'll just be embarrassed!”
As we pulled up to the hospital’s entrance,I opened the door to the truck and jumped out. The minute my foot touched the pavement, my water broke. My pants were sopping and a puddle was at my feet.
Grabbing my mom’s arm, I dramatically screamed, “Oh my God, I'm peeing in my pants!”
“I think your water is breaking,” my mom said, calmly.
“Quick, get me a towel to wrap around myself,” I yelled frantically at Max.
“I don’t have a towel,” he replied from the driver's seat.
“Well, I can’t go in there,” I wailed, “Look at all of those guys,” I pointed to the men in uniform I could see roaming around the lobby through the hospital doors.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” My mom said, starting to close the truck doors, “This is a hospital.”
“I can’t do this. I really can’t do this,” I repeated over and over as I tiptoed into the lobby.
“Get a wheelchair,” one soldier said to another.
“No, I am OK,” I assured, “I’m not sure if my water broke or if I had an accident.”
I just out and said it. The two men and one woman in uniform laughed.
“It is hospital policy Ma’am,” said the female soldier as she helped me into the wheelchair and wheeled me up to labor and delivery; I trailed water the whole way
“I’m mortified,” I confided, as she, my mom and I rode in the elevator.
“Girl, trust me,” she laughed, “We’ve seen it before and we’ll see it again.”
With that, when we got to labor and delivery, I asked the nurses if I could use their bathroom before they examined me.
“Sure,” a nurse said with a strange look on her face, as she followed me into the bathroom.
“Thanks,” I told her, “I had to go the whole drive here.”
I guess people who have false alarms aren’t able to control their bladders.
“Admit her, she’s having a baby,” the nurse screamed down the hall.
Eighteen hours later, on the July 4th, our baby boy was born.
“I can’t believe he was born on the 4th of July,” Max said with a smile. “I wonder what age he’ll be before he realizes that the firecrackers are not really for him?”
“Maybe it’s just a false alarm?” I wondered aloud.
“Well, it's better to be sure.” My mom (who was in town from San Francisco)replied.
“Yeah,” I said, “I know, I'll just be embarrassed!”
As we pulled up to the hospital’s entrance,I opened the door to the truck and jumped out. The minute my foot touched the pavement, my water broke. My pants were sopping and a puddle was at my feet.
Grabbing my mom’s arm, I dramatically screamed, “Oh my God, I'm peeing in my pants!”
“I think your water is breaking,” my mom said, calmly.
“Quick, get me a towel to wrap around myself,” I yelled frantically at Max.
“I don’t have a towel,” he replied from the driver's seat.
“Well, I can’t go in there,” I wailed, “Look at all of those guys,” I pointed to the men in uniform I could see roaming around the lobby through the hospital doors.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” My mom said, starting to close the truck doors, “This is a hospital.”
“I can’t do this. I really can’t do this,” I repeated over and over as I tiptoed into the lobby.
“Get a wheelchair,” one soldier said to another.
“No, I am OK,” I assured, “I’m not sure if my water broke or if I had an accident.”
I just out and said it. The two men and one woman in uniform laughed.
“It is hospital policy Ma’am,” said the female soldier as she helped me into the wheelchair and wheeled me up to labor and delivery; I trailed water the whole way
“I’m mortified,” I confided, as she, my mom and I rode in the elevator.
“Girl, trust me,” she laughed, “We’ve seen it before and we’ll see it again.”
With that, when we got to labor and delivery, I asked the nurses if I could use their bathroom before they examined me.
“Sure,” a nurse said with a strange look on her face, as she followed me into the bathroom.
“Thanks,” I told her, “I had to go the whole drive here.”
I guess people who have false alarms aren’t able to control their bladders.
“Admit her, she’s having a baby,” the nurse screamed down the hall.
Eighteen hours later, on the July 4th, our baby boy was born.
“I can’t believe he was born on the 4th of July,” Max said with a smile. “I wonder what age he’ll be before he realizes that the firecrackers are not really for him?”
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Photo: Julie Jacobson / AP
US Army captain becomes 'king' in Afghanistan
By SEBASTIAN ABBOT, Associated Press Writer
Saturday, May 1, 2010
San Francisco Chronicle
In the U.S. Army, Casey Thoreen is just a 30-year-old captain. Around here, he's known as the "King of Maiwand" district — testimony to the fact that without the young captain and a fat international wallet, local government here as in much of the insurgency-ravaged south could not function at all.
Setting up effective governments at the district level is key to U.S. strategy. U.S. officials hope that providing basic services will draw support away from the Taliban, especially here in the Islamist group's heartland of Kandahar province.
But in this dusty farming community 40 miles (60 kilometers) west of Kandahar, Thoreen has discovered that bolstering the authority of a district governor, who relies on him almost completely for financial resources and credibility, is a delicate balancing act. He also knows the effort is unsustainable without greater support from the central Afghan government in Kabul.
"We are putting a big gamble on this," Thoreen said. "Any of this stuff we're doing here, not just at our level but the $800 billion we have spent so far in the country, is contingent on the government being effective."
For now, Thoreen and Maiwand's district governor, Obaidullah Bawari, are working with what they have — which isn't much.
The 49-year-old Bawari, who has occupied the post for a year, has no staff except his personal assistant and no government budget except for the roughly $400 monthly salary that he receives from Kabul. He is responsible for civilian government operations in the district, including water, power and schools, and he mediates disputes.
There are about 150 Afghan police deployed in Maiwand, but they report to both the chief of police in Kandahar City as well as the provincial governor.
"Everything you see here is from the coalition forces," said Bawari, sweeping his hand toward the center of the district capital, Hutal, where the Army has paid for a new government headquarters, an agricultural center and various other projects.
It's a picture repeated across the country, including in the ethnic Pashtun heartland of southern Afghanistan, where opposition to the government and support for the Taliban run deep.
The Afghan government recently launched a new program backed by the U.S. to increase support to 80 key districts in the country, many of them in the south and east.
But Kandahar's provincial governor, Tooryalai Wesa, visited Maiwand for the first time recently and said he didn't have any additional resources to offer the district.
"That kind of blew my mind," said Thoreen, a West Point graduate from Seattle, Washington. "After nine years in Afghanistan we're still at this point."
When the troops from 2nd Battalion, 1st Infantry Regiment first arrived in Hutal in September, Bawari basically had no authority within the district because he doesn't come from a powerful family and isn't well-educated.
"He was very intimidated, very helpless and had no sense of his responsibilities," Thoreen said.
The troops, who live in a small base in the middle of Hutal, have tried to boost Bawari's standing by encouraging him to take credit for development projects the U.S. military funded. They have also set up a series of traditional meetings, known as shuras, with tribal elders in an attempt to enlist their support.
"Through the district leader and us, the elders are involved in laying out the ideas for these projects and actually implementing them," Thoreen said. "All that has enhanced and empowered the district leader as well."
But the dynamic gets more complicated when Thoreen and the district governor disagree on an issue. That presents the captain with the difficult choice: either overrule Bawari and damage his authority or give in and accept a decision he believes is bad for the mission.
Such a situation arose at a recent shura when 25 farmers showed up to demand the return of more than 300 pounds (135 kilograms) of opium that Special Forces had seized from a car.
Thoreen refused to return the opium or compensate them for it, saying U.S. forces have been clear that while they will not seize drugs from individual farmers, they will target smugglers. He sidelined Bawari during the debate because he knew the district governor disagreed with him and wanted to return the opium.
"I knew he would go that way in the shura if I opened it up to him, so I intentionally did not ask his opinion on it," said Thoreen.
Afterward, Bawari complained that the captain's decision damaged his credibility.
"The coalition forces didn't give the farmers a good answer and they walked away angry with us," he said.
But Thoreen said there have been other times when he has caved to the district governor's wishes, including agreeing to release three insurgents who had been caught with weapons just before they were about to attack a NATO supply convoy. He freed them after significant pressure from Bawari and a large number of tribal elders, who promised to prevent the men from engaging in future insurgent activity.
"It may not have been the greatest thing to do since we arrested one of the guys again doing something similar, but we created value in the district leader for the people through that decision," Thoreen said.
The district governor certainly appreciates Thoreen's efforts and says he is worried about what will happen when the captain leaves this summer with the rest of the 5th Stryker Brigade.
"We need the next person who comes to be exactly like Capt. Thoreen, patient and very smart," said Bawari. "If we get that kind of person, we won't have any problems."
Thoreen is flattered by the compliment, but adds a word of caution.
"I think that's all right as long as other people don't see that and think he's dependent on me," Thoreen said.
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