New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day are special here at Bagram Air Field.  We have happy greetings from Sad Skinny Santa (obviously modeled on the same guy who posed for the Santa in He Sees You When You’re Sleeping…)

And steaks at the Dining Facility (DFAC) (you know it’s steak day when you see and smell the smoke from the DFAC barbecues where they slow cook the beef)

And rocket attacks.  (Sorry, no photos.)  Because the insurgents like to bomb us on our holidays.  So we spent lots of time staggering around in our body armor and helmets, and hitting the ground when the sirens went off.

When I’m face down on the ground with my arms covering my head while I’m waiting for the explosion or the all clear signal, I think about my fellow trainees in Combat Airman Skills Training (CAST).  I so admired the apparent ease with which they ran and jumped and accomplished all kinds of difficult and time-sensitive tasks with all their armor and weapons and other gear, while I was slow and clumsy and sometimes needed help getting up because I wasn’t strong enough to pick up myself and all my gear.  I worry about them during these attacks because even the ablest of them can’t outrun a rocket.  I pray for their safety, and for the safety of all the other people out there on BAF and the other Afghanistan bases.  I never really appreciated how comfortable and safe and easy and carefree my life was in America, how I could just walk around assuming I was in no danger; now I’m reminded every time I hear the sirens.

There are lots of people here who’ve done multiple deployments and are totally blasé about these attacks.  I’m not one of those people: rocket attacks are scary as hell and they kill people.  One of my New Year’s Resolutions is to not take my safety and health for granted, and to be more mindful of how lucky I am that (when I’m not deployed) I live in a place that isn’t a war zone.

Happy New Year!  Stay safe, everybody!

MM