• Member Since 28th Aug, 2011
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Cold in Gardez


Stories about ponies are stories about people.

More Blog Posts186

  • 1 week
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  • 34 weeks
    A new project, and an explanation!

    Hey folks,

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  • 79 weeks
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    The flower turns its face to the sun.

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Apr
23rd
2014

A Salvation update, and another short thing about the war · 2:23pm Apr 23rd, 2014

There was an article in the Washington Post a few days back about all of the unexploded munitions being left behind by the US. Apparently they're causing some number of civilian injuries and deaths.

I find that very easy to believe. Afghan children don't seem to be frightened of the same things that I – a grown man and experienced soldier – find terrifying.

One of the few times I've ever been genuinely scared for my life was just a few miles from our FOB back in 2007. Before the longer missions, we would head out to our gunnery range to test the heavy weapons, perform headspace and timing checks, shoot off a few rounds to make sure everything was working, etc. Most people in the military like shooting things, so this was usually a fun way to start long, boring convoys that almost never saw any action.

But on this day the action started on the range. I stepped out of my HMMWV and almost tripped over a five-inch warhead of some sort. It was just lying there on the dirt, battered and worn, too misshapen by time and the elements to tell how old it was, or who it once belonged to. I don't even know how it got there -- it didn't match any munitions we used, and it wasn't rigged like an IED. For all we could tell it was left over from the Soviets or the long civil war that followed their departure, buried by impact in the hillside for decades until the rain and wind unearthed it and sent it tumbling down to rest on the narrow dirt path we traveled every day.

I did what we were supposed to do -- call it out and jump back in the HMMWV, which had nice thick armor, probably (hopefully) enough to stop the shrapnel from an ancient warhead if it chose that moment to explode. Fortunately, it did not, and we promptly relocated the convoy to a safer part of the range.

That's how Americans react to UXOs: fear and healthy respect. Afghan children? They collect the damn things.

A few weeks after we arrived at Gardez a local elder arrived at our FOB with the bleeding body of his son in the back of his car. The child was still alive, though badly injured, and we quickly called for a medevac to come pick him up. While we were waiting, we asked the father what happened.

We assumed, reasonably enough I believe, that the child had stepped on a mine. They're all over the place in Afghanistan, one of those little parting gifts the Soviets left, a million little reminders that war can kill anyone. We guessed that he had stepped on one while tending his herd of goats. It wasn't the first time.

But the Soviets were not to blame this time. Instead, the boy and his friend had found an old, unexploded rocket, much like the one I nearly tripped over weeks later, and they tossed it back and forth like you and I might play catch with a football. At some point one of the boys dropped the rocket, and -- at last -- it functioned as it was designed.

The boy was lucky to live. After some surgery at the combat surgical hospital in Khowst, he flew home with all of his limbs and a grateful father. Hopefully, he learned a lesson about playing with rockets, for there are millions of other unexploded weapons lying around this country, waiting for some Afghan child to find them.


There's a new chapter of Salvation up. You'll notice it's titled 'The Gift of the Magi, part 1,' and as you might guess there's a part two coming along shortly. Rarity's dreams are taking much, much longer to type than I expected, and I don't like chapters with 20k words.

Once part two comes out, Salvation will be pretty close to its end, I think. We're getting close to the climax, and I'm very excited.

But I think there will be a short break after this next chapter, for at least one short story. I have two on my plate: a CMC story that's basically a love story to the Summer, and a darker tale that's a spiritual sequel to The Carnivore's Prayer.

Haven't decided which one I'm going to write first, though. If you have any thoughts, feel free to say so :)

Report Cold in Gardez · 884 views · Story: Salvation ·
Comments ( 35 )

I, for one, could go for something more light hearted.

Never could understand how Ordinance could ever want to deal with UXOs on a daily basis. EOD guys be crazy.

RBDash47
Site Blogger

Seems like maybe there should be some education about not playing catch with high explosives...

2038437 Denim's sentiment's mimic my own almost precisely. It is informative to hear of how life functions in a world where even as a mere idea peace struggles to manifest.

But I think there will be a short break after this next chapter, for at least one short story. I have two on my plate: a CMC story that's basically a love story to the Summer, and a darker tale that's a spiritual sequel to The Carnivore's Prayer.

iambrony.dget.cc/mlp/gif/497167__safe_solo_twilight%2Bsparkle_animated_cute_smile_bouncing_artist-colon-themightyshizam.gif

TIL something about Afghanistan, and it was on Fimfiction.net

Guess there's just nothing like knowing someone who's there...

Wow, I couldn't imagine collecting warheads. I suppose they don't have any education on them other than they explode. Still enough to keep me a good ways back.

I've not seen the term UXO before. I assume it means unexploded ordinance? Good luck out there.

Honestly, this can be a problem for us civilians in the US as well. Here in New Mexico and much of the southwest in general, there's always small chance to find UXOs more or less anywhere from the last century of military testing. EMRTC is just down the road from me, and as a search and rescue volunteer this is something we watch for when we're out in the hills.

I've also heard other stories: There are so many shells and grenades and chemical munitions that have been dumped in bays that they've ended up as ingredients in a lot of crushed seashell driveways on the east coast.

Wherever you are, be educated, be observant, and don't kick that rusty metal round thing sticking out of the ground.:twilightsmile:

Almost reminds me of Bosnia, where they've taken to making art out of bullet casings and artillery shells. I myself have a nearly two-foot long shell engraved with sites from around Sarajevo. Can't imagine children playing with live explosives, though. Yikes.

Unexploded ordinance is one of the most frightening legacies of war. They are still pulling hundreds of tons of UXO out of France and Belgium every year, from wars that happened half a century or more ago. Imagine walking through the woods in the Ardennes, and stumbling across a seventy year old artillery shell filled with mustard gas. London and Berlin still have active teams dealing with the stuff, and these are massive, modern urban centers.

oo

A successor to Carnivore's Tale would make me a happy child.

That's the thing though, exposure makes things less scary. To those kids they might as well have just been tossing around a lawn dart... one of the sharp pointy ones, yeah sure it's dangerous but as long as you're careful you're fine.

I'd feel nervous walking into some guys personal armory but someone with one of their own would feel perfectly normal or even excited.

The fact that parts of the world are like that make me sad... but it's a fact of life and denying it doesn't make things better, it makes them worse.

Have you ever considered writing a book on your experiences, CiG? I understand that the motivations for/against such a thing could be rather personal in nature, so I won't be offput if you choose to answer with little detail, or even not at all.

" darker tale that's a spiritual sequel to The Carnivore's Prayer."
Oh, yes yes yes! That's the first story I read by you and still by far one of my favorites.

And damn... that thing about the rocket is just sad. I'd almost expect children growing up in a place like that to have been taught to be wary about such weapons... not that it's their fault, of course. Although as someone else mentioned, exposure. I wonder how American children would react if they found something like that. I know I'd stay the fuck away from it, and I'd like to think I would have even when I was rather young, but...

I find that very easy to believe. Afghan children don't seem to be frightened of the same things that I – a grown man and experienced soldier – find terrifying.

Little jerks kept crawling around stealing my trip flares. :trixieshiftright:

2039567 It's the 'Inshalla' attitude, one part predestination, one part fatalism.

And here we have school administrators who go into full freakout mode when a seven year old points their finger at another student. Quite a spectrum of reaction between them...

These blogs are exactly the reason I followed you here. They're actually my favorite part of my feed now, stories and knowledge that you can't find easily elsewhere.
Also, I guess I finally sort of know where you got your name from.

The Gardez Fire Base is an American outpost in Afghanistan, near the city of Gardez, in the Province of Paktia, near the border with Pakistan.

I think there's more to your name then you'd tell most people.

As it is the country's day for commemorating its armed forces this weekend (ANZAC Day), I just thought I'd post this. It's not entirely related, but I heard on AM radio yesterday while I was out yesterday that around eight percent of returned Australian soldiers from Afghanistan and Iraq are diagnosed with PTSD. Particularly in the case of Afghanistan, where there's been a longer involvement, it's a very real issue. I understand that it arises from the incredible hyperalertness that the soldiers displayed towards their environment, as there was no telling what could possibly represent a threat. Every civilian could have been a combatant, and most places were dangerous for foreign servicemen. Not that I would know, of course, this is just what I've been told.

I cannot fathom how this over-awareness translates into real life. It presents a very chilling thought to me to this day. Had it not been for my first-year university lecturer, who used to be a Lieutenant-Colonel in East Timor, then I would not have known any better. I once met the man outside of my university. He was in his forties with a square jaw and was a very intimidating figure who I rarely saw smile. I pursued a conversation with him for the better part of fifteen minutes before he politely informed me that he would prefer to have our conversation without his back to the road.

Dear Gardez, I will spare a thought for you this weekend, even though you may be quite alright. Even if you are not one of 'ours', I think that you're an exceptionally brave soul, and I thank you for doing what you've done. :yay:

I never feel right about responding to your war stories. Everything I say always sounds callous.

Also, I personally would like to read that sequel for The Carnivore's Prayer.

Afghan children don't seem to be frightened of the same things that I – a grown man and experienced soldier – find terrifying.

Well, you probably already know this but it's worth saying--it's largely because you're a grown man and experienced soldier that you can be so afraid of them. The fears of children are not the same as those of adults and they have a hard time realizing how dangerous many things are. Especially if their primary exposure to them is seeing them sit around doing nothing whereas you've actually seen them blow up.

2038430

I know there was when I was a kid. I remember seeing these comics they'd send oversees that were a big, don't fuck with mines and such PSA.

I would say The Carnivore's Prayer is my favorite of your works. If we were voting, that would be my choice.

I think part of the reason why I liked it so much, was what you could take away from it. I also remember you saying something about it, and taking inspiration, or relating it to some of what you know from war (it's late, and it was a long time ago). Either way, I do enjoy the stories here in the blog, and those you post up.

Be sure you're taking care.

2039938

My second deployment was 15 months in Afghanistan (at Gardez, as you've guessed). I remember, when I got home, being anxious in crowds. Places like malls and movie theaters made me feel uneasy. Every time I walked outside, I had a momentary reflex where I would reach across my chest to feel for my pistol.

By most accounts, those would be considered symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress, which almost everyone who deploys experiences. It doesn't become a disorder until it begins to interfere with how you live your life. Hopefully it will never get to that point with me.

Thanks for the well-wishes :) I've served with several ANZAC soldiers over here, and they're all a blast.

This reminds me depressingly of the horrific legacy left behind in Cambodia and other countries, especially those where mines were employed on a horrifically industrial scale. Shattered limbs and shattered lives, and the little demons wait patiently decades down the line for some unfortunate soul to at last fulfill their maker's designs.

(Semi-related to the discussion on PTSD, I recall that on average a soldier reintegrates (that's a dark, loaded word right there) after 1 year per year in the Army or Navy, 6 months total for Airmen, and for Marines - never.)

2045028

Heh, six months.

It doesn't come across in these posts, but I'm in the Air Force. We're doing jobs that fall outside the traditional realm of airpower these days.

Also, unrelated, loved the latest chapter of Well of Pirene.

2038823

Jake,

Just one of the things I never expected from joining a fanfiction site :) Honestly, though, Gardez is about as far away from American life as you can get, and I don't think people are missing much by not being aware of all its, uh, numerous charms.

<3 Gardez

2039567

Seriously. We'd be firing the heavy weapons at the range, and the kids would try to run underneath the guns to collect the brass casings. I had to chase them away more than once.

Don't even ask me about pens.

I'm certainly looking for Salvation, but I can't find it (the story, not the experience - got that already :pinkiehappy:).

Thanks for posting your stories, both the ones that spring from your imagination, and those that come from experience.

2045423 Small-town charm, huh?

My Opa's got a story along the same vein. It's one of the only stories he seems willing to tell about the time after WWII, in Soviet-occupied Germany. Anyway, he was out messing around with his friends, and they came across a box of potato-masher grenades, a Luger, and a box of ammo.

Being young and stupid, they thought it was a good idea to pull the pins on the grenades and chuck them down a well, because it would make an entertaining geyser of water. The pistol they ignored.

Naturally, this attracted the attention of a Russian soldier stationed in the area. He drove up and watched these kids happily throwing live grenades down a well. They'd gone through about half of them at this point. Then he confiscated the pistol and ammunition and let them be.

None of them were hurt. Nothing bad came of it. But it's only now, sixty years later, that he knows how unbelievably stupid that was.

On a completely unrelated note, I only found Salvation a few days ago. It's done an excellent job of making me feel completely inadequate as a writer. I really feel like I should go over it again and take notes. Keep up the excellent work.

As for what you should write next, I'm pretty new to your stories, so I'm not sure what I'd like to see. A love letter to summer seems pretty nice, though.

2091916

A love letter to summer seems pretty nice, though.

I'm thinking I agree.

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