Wrapping up at Fort Benning

Sorry for the lack of posts over the last couple of days but I’ve been so incredibly busy over the past 4 days or so. I also haven’t had any access to the internet so was unable to load up any new posts. Last Thursday and Friday were the last two days that I spent on Americxan soil and already it seems like ages ago.


Thursday and Friday were spent at Fort Benning mainly getting the rest of our equipment. The highlight was definetly the shooting range on Thursday. That was the day that I needed to qualify shooting a 9mm Beretta at some pop-up targets. I had a great deal of anxiety about this because I had only fired a pistol twice before – once when I attended Officer Basic Course 8 years ago and the other time was just before I left with my brother Adam at a range in NJ.

Most of my fears had been put aside when I learned that we would have a course before going to the range. The course was taught by a bunch of retired Army soldiers and they were amazing teachers. When the two hours of instruction were over they had me feeling confident that I could not only use the weapon to defend myself, but also disassemble and clean it without forgetting how to put it back together again.

At the range we were required to hit 16 out of 30 pop up targets to pass. The targets would stay up for three seconds and you had to hit them before that in order for it to count. The same instructors that tuiaght the course were also available as coaches during the qualifier to help you through it if need be. I jumped at the chance for a coach even though I was the only one to do so in my group. I’ve come to learn that there is no shame in asking questions or for help – especially with something as important as defending yourself. With little actual aid, I was able to knock down 22 out of 30, enough to earn me sharpshooter status!

At dinner that night I got the opportunity to talk to some of the linguists that would be traveling with the Army to help with translating in Iraq and Afganistan. Most of these guys had amazing stories and I was in awe of them. One told me of how he fleed Afganistan and the Taliban shortly after 9/11 and came to the US. He then self-taught himself english in just one year’s time. He then decided to sign up with the military’s linguist program so that he could help the US take control of his country and free his family of the oppression that they were experiencing. He had back to Afagnistan four times since 2001, and each time he was unable to tell his family that he was going to be there – if the Taliban found out, he assured me that his entire family would be killed.

Courage like theirs amazes me. Living alone in a foreign country, learning a new language all by yourself, and never contacting your family must really weigh on these guys. Yet they do it anyway with the hope that someday the they can return to their families in peace. Their bravery is incredible, and I don’t think that most people even know that people like this exist – I certainly didn’t. It’s a small gesture but I wanted to mention them in this post to acknowledge the work that they do.

Friday came and went with more briefings, and then the craziness began. As I had mentioned earlier I signed up for baggage detail for the flight, so I was up at 4 so start the loading process. It wasn’t actually that demanding of a task. Just line up the bags, count them and then stand back as a hired crew loaded the cargo on a truck bound for our plane.

By 9:30 the trucks were loaded and we headed to the airfield on Fort Benning. As we entered a large hall, it started to sink in that there was no backing out now. We went through security and ate lunch and then boarded the plane around 3 in the afternoon. As we prepared to board, several people addressed us, thanking us for the work that we were about to do. However, it was one person that didn’t speak at all that got the tears whelling up in my eyes. As walked towards the plane there was a line of soldiers there to shake our hands. As I got to the end I noticed a little old man, not in uniform. Wondering who he was I soon realized that his cap said WWII veteran and tears were streaming down his eyes as he shook our hands and said thank-you. That’s when all my emotions bubbled to the surface as I thought about what an honor it was that someone like him actually thanked me.

Struggling to pull myself together I set foot in the plane. I started to wonder if my devious plan to score great seats had backfired in my face when I noticed that there was no first class section. However, they did reward the baggage detail by giving us the middle seat in a row of five with no one on either side of us which was just as good.

Two and a half hours later we landed in Bangor, Maine, to refuel. As we got off the plane to stretch our legs, we were greated by the Freeport Flag Ladies who snapped pictures of us and along with other veterans again thanked us for our service – all the while I was thinking about how unworthy of praise I was – especially from people like that. They actually loaded up the pictures of us to their website which I linked above so that our friends and family could see us.

Seven hours later and with Bangor behind us we landed in the snow at Leipzig, Germany. After quickly refueling we boarded once again for our final destination. The flight to Kuwaiit City was about four hours and exactly 8 time zones from NYC. I was a little surprised to find out that my baggage duty had not quite finished as I found myself crawling up into the belly of the plane to unload all 800 or so bags with a crew of about 20. My entire body is still asking me if the middle seat was worth it!

Ok, think I’ll stop here since I’m sure that most didn’t get past the first couple of paragraphs anyway. All told we traveled for about 40 hours before actually getting to lay down in a cot – but more about that and my current location, Camp Boehring, later.