Picking up from where we left off: I'm stretched out in the coffin sized rest area behind the cockpit, ready to nap after being up for over 20hrs. We are headed for a much anticipated overnight in Germany, having just entered Pakistani airspace on our way to the Persian Gulf.
Like our trip into Pakistan just six hours earlier, Pakistani air defense comes on the radio in a state of intense emotion. By threat of intercept/force, they kick us out of their airspace and force us to return to Afghanistan. Wha?! We are one of thousands and thousands of coalition planes that cross this same airspace, but tonight we must have the “Kick Me” sign on our back.
We try to calm them down and explain we’re on a scheduled flight, but they’ll have none of it. The threat of launching fighters to intercept us is the final straw and we turn around back towards Afghanistan. (We later found out the Air Force mobility coordination center failed to add our flight to the document allowing Pakistan overflight. Oversights do happen, more often than we'd like, but that's the downside of a ginormous, complex entity like the mobility arm of the military.)
Naturally at this time we’d hop on a satellite frequency or phone and get some help in fixing the situation. But this plane just happened to have a broken satellite antenna. Doh! We are now stuck in Afghanistan, because we don’t have overfly authorized on the route to the north or to the south. We decide to land at the nearest base: Kandahar. (Hah!!) So much for overflying that pit. We pull in to what is a ghost town compared to earlier in the war. As I walk out of the plane the first thing I notice is the smell: dusty, but with the slight smell of smoke or something burning. Anything is better than smelling the poo-pit, so I’m cool with it.
(Here is a video of the Kandahar area when I was flying the CV-22 there in 2010:
Like our trip into Pakistan just six hours earlier, Pakistani air defense comes on the radio in a state of intense emotion. By threat of intercept/force, they kick us out of their airspace and force us to return to Afghanistan. Wha?! We are one of thousands and thousands of coalition planes that cross this same airspace, but tonight we must have the “Kick Me” sign on our back.
We try to calm them down and explain we’re on a scheduled flight, but they’ll have none of it. The threat of launching fighters to intercept us is the final straw and we turn around back towards Afghanistan. (We later found out the Air Force mobility coordination center failed to add our flight to the document allowing Pakistan overflight. Oversights do happen, more often than we'd like, but that's the downside of a ginormous, complex entity like the mobility arm of the military.)
Naturally at this time we’d hop on a satellite frequency or phone and get some help in fixing the situation. But this plane just happened to have a broken satellite antenna. Doh! We are now stuck in Afghanistan, because we don’t have overfly authorized on the route to the north or to the south. We decide to land at the nearest base: Kandahar. (Hah!!) So much for overflying that pit. We pull in to what is a ghost town compared to earlier in the war. As I walk out of the plane the first thing I notice is the smell: dusty, but with the slight smell of smoke or something burning. Anything is better than smelling the poo-pit, so I’m cool with it.
(Here is a video of the Kandahar area when I was flying the CV-22 there in 2010:
We find out that they cannot accommodate our crew and the 50+ passengers in the back of the plane. Command and control is no help over the land-line phone we are driven to, as they are thousands of miles away and unable to fully comprehend the bind we are in. Their answer to Matt: "spend the night in Kandahar… we don’t believe there isn’t room to sleep there." Thanks for the vote of confidence.
The 50 passengers are quite frustrated, as they were supposed to return to Europe where their families were waiting, but now they are in Kandahar with no where to stay. That’s when they suggest: let’s go to Mazar-i-Sharif. They are familiar with the base and can assure us a place to sleep and a hot meal. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Deal!" So we launch into the dawn sky and head north. And this is where the first reward of the adventure comes: I get to fly right up the middle of Afghanistan and its mountains in the daylight without fear of being shot, something I hadn’t really been able to do in my past AFSOC life.
The 50 passengers are quite frustrated, as they were supposed to return to Europe where their families were waiting, but now they are in Kandahar with no where to stay. That’s when they suggest: let’s go to Mazar-i-Sharif. They are familiar with the base and can assure us a place to sleep and a hot meal. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Deal!" So we launch into the dawn sky and head north. And this is where the first reward of the adventure comes: I get to fly right up the middle of Afghanistan and its mountains in the daylight without fear of being shot, something I hadn’t really been able to do in my past AFSOC life.
Beautiful view from cockpit as we descend among the snow covered mountains of N. Afghanistan.
Afghanistan: It’s a beautiful country! Rugged mountains give way to deep river canyons and rocky cliffs. A fresh snow had fallen, so I could easily pick out the inhabited, remote villages by seeing foot/animal tracks leading around the outskirts of the village or to a local water source. Soon the sun was up to full brightness and the blue sky made for a perfect day. I hopped from one side of the cockpit to another marveling at the sights and wishing I could be down there exploring the rivers, rocks and mountains. Eventually I just kicked back, put my feet up, and enjoyed the sunshine and snowy landscape surrounding us.
Mazar-i-Sharif is a beautiful location. It’s on a plateau mostly surrounding by rugged mountains reaching up to 9,000ft. Maz is the third largest city in Afghanistan (~690,000) and has a storied history, from the estimated birth place of one of my favorite poets: Rumi, to Genghis Kahn destroying their most important mosque, to the Russians using it as a base of operations to fight the mujahideen. I wished for the opportunity to learn more about it in person, but my main focus was on finding a place to sleep, as it had been 30hrs since I last woke up (deployed sleeping isn’t very good unless you use Ambien, which I’m avoiding).
Our passengers hooked us up with temporary sleeping arrangements, although it was right at freezing temperature inside them. But it was better than a cargo plane floor or tent cot. We dropped our bags and walked to the chow hall... which is where we received another treat: the view of the snow, mountains and clouds outside the fence. After a quick meal, we returned to the rooms, hoping the small heaters we turned on would take the bite from the air, though not really caring either way.
Our passengers hooked us up with temporary sleeping arrangements, although it was right at freezing temperature inside them. But it was better than a cargo plane floor or tent cot. We dropped our bags and walked to the chow hall... which is where we received another treat: the view of the snow, mountains and clouds outside the fence. After a quick meal, we returned to the rooms, hoping the small heaters we turned on would take the bite from the air, though not really caring either way.
Walking to breakfast before bed and soaking in the energy of the setting... the mountains and sun crisp and radiant.
The friendly German quartermaster offered us some sheets, a cotton blanket and a pillow each. With the weight of the hectic 30hr day pulling me to sleep like an intense gravity, I crawled into what seemed to be a cotton sleeping bag of sorts. I loved the idea: one sheet like a tube, so no need for a fitted sheet. Under the weight of the blanket and breathing in the cold, crisp mountain air, I fell into a deep sleep. Only later did I find out the three-sided sheet I liked so much wasn't supposed to be slept in: it was a mattress cover that you slide over the entire mattress. Hah! Well, it certainly got the job done!
After six hours of solid sleep and a little bit of dozing, it was time to get back to work. Too bad, as this quiet little base suited me well. The view of the mountains from the compound was inspiring! It reminded me of a grand adventure had by several Italian nationals in Africa. They are Italian professional who are held in a WWII British POW camp. Several days after they arrive at the camp, the clouds clear enough that they see a huge mountain summit hovering above the clouds. They realize it must be Mt. Kenya, famous at that time for it was considered nearly unclimbable. Well, they happen to be mountaineers and decide they’re going to escape the camp and climb the famous peak. It’s a story about the love of mountains and adventures… about risking life to live life. Check it out: “No Picnic on Mt. Kenya”.
Part 3 Coming Soon. The Adventure Never Ends...
After six hours of solid sleep and a little bit of dozing, it was time to get back to work. Too bad, as this quiet little base suited me well. The view of the mountains from the compound was inspiring! It reminded me of a grand adventure had by several Italian nationals in Africa. They are Italian professional who are held in a WWII British POW camp. Several days after they arrive at the camp, the clouds clear enough that they see a huge mountain summit hovering above the clouds. They realize it must be Mt. Kenya, famous at that time for it was considered nearly unclimbable. Well, they happen to be mountaineers and decide they’re going to escape the camp and climb the famous peak. It’s a story about the love of mountains and adventures… about risking life to live life. Check it out: “No Picnic on Mt. Kenya”.
Part 3 Coming Soon. The Adventure Never Ends...
Matt on approach into Maz, the mountains and snow a huge contrast to the dust and sand to the south.
[This blog hosted by USAF 50 Summits Challenge as a way to chronicle the deployment of a military mountaineer and build insight for the outdoors-minded person of what a deployment is like]
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