Read Online 166 Days: My Journey Through The Darkness by Jennifer Clark - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Clark
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Don, a new male PA.
“Why?” I asked. “Is it due to the bugs?”
“No, it will likely be yet another distraction to the team guys, and the last thing you want to do is bother them,” he explained. I never would have thought of that as a distraction, but it seemed to make sense. “Now that we know you guys are going to one of the most violent firebases in Afghanistan, it is vital that you get as much training on the equipment out there as you can. You need to become so familiar with the various buttons and switches in the vehicles that you could operate them blindfolded if need be.”
“Can you elaborate?” Becky asked.
“Think of it this way, most attacks will occur at night. You need to be prepared to defend yourselves.”
Becky and I listened, exchanging “Oh my God” looks, knowing we would be all each other had for the next five months. The more we talked to Don, the more we realized how ill-prepared we were. As we discussed the gear we would need for what we would be doing, Don shook his head in frustration. “You guys don’t have the equipment I think you need to go out there. I want to get you issued what you don’t have and replace some of the items you do have.”
“What do you think we need to replace?”
“Your body armor, cold weather gear, individual first aid kits (IFAKs) to start. You were sent here with standard issue items, but this is not a standard place you are going. You need to be equipped with the same equipment as the guys you’re going out with.”
“Thanks Don. I appreciate you making sure we are ready,” I said.
It was in the remaining days we were at BAF we got all of our new and improved gear squared away, continued our medical training with a stronger emphasis on trauma, and packed up our belongings. Don continued to ensure we had everything we needed to go out, which was interesting because we later found out he had grown to “hate” all females that were attached to their teams because they all seemed to be “easy” and a huge distraction for the team guys. We thankfully managed to change his perception, which was a godsend, as we desperately needed his help to prepare for what was ahead of us.
I wished I could find the exact words to describe what I was feeling as I prepared mentally and physically for my upcoming adventure…but I couldn’t because there weren’t any.
CHAPTER 10
Days 32 and 33
One of Our Own
30 May and 1 June 2008
30 May 2008
I knew in the back of my mind it was likely to happen, but I prayed it wouldn’t. Doc came into the Med Shed with a look of shock and disbelief that morning.
“Are you ok?” I asked him. However, I knew full well he was far from ok.
“No, I’m not Jennifer. We lost one of our own from our unit yesterday,” he said. Up until then, all of the Fallen Comrade ceremonies had been for someone outside of the Special Forces personnel; making them distant enough for me to dissociate, but this one was much different. He had been on a mission and was killed in action due to a secondary blast from an IED. Because he was in our unit, our participation in the Fallen Comrade ceremony was much more intimate. Instead of lining the sides of the main street of the base, we formed up on the flight line to be present when the remains entered the aircraft that would fly him home.
The day leading up to the ceremony was melancholy. I sensed such pain in the faces and eyes of the soldiers I worked with, especially Doc. His grandfather had been a prisoner of war, and he took all of what we were doing out there very much to heart. He was quiet the whole day; preoccupied with ensuring the fallen soldier’s team members, who were also injured in the mission, were taken care of to the best of everyone’s capabilities. He wanted someone greeting them at the hospital, at the flight line when they were arriving, and when they were leaving.
The ceremony was held at 0001 (12:01am) due to the flight schedule of the aircraft. As we lined
“Why?” I asked. “Is it due to the bugs?”
“No, it will likely be yet another distraction to the team guys, and the last thing you want to do is bother them,” he explained. I never would have thought of that as a distraction, but it seemed to make sense. “Now that we know you guys are going to one of the most violent firebases in Afghanistan, it is vital that you get as much training on the equipment out there as you can. You need to become so familiar with the various buttons and switches in the vehicles that you could operate them blindfolded if need be.”
“Can you elaborate?” Becky asked.
“Think of it this way, most attacks will occur at night. You need to be prepared to defend yourselves.”
Becky and I listened, exchanging “Oh my God” looks, knowing we would be all each other had for the next five months. The more we talked to Don, the more we realized how ill-prepared we were. As we discussed the gear we would need for what we would be doing, Don shook his head in frustration. “You guys don’t have the equipment I think you need to go out there. I want to get you issued what you don’t have and replace some of the items you do have.”
“What do you think we need to replace?”
“Your body armor, cold weather gear, individual first aid kits (IFAKs) to start. You were sent here with standard issue items, but this is not a standard place you are going. You need to be equipped with the same equipment as the guys you’re going out with.”
“Thanks Don. I appreciate you making sure we are ready,” I said.
It was in the remaining days we were at BAF we got all of our new and improved gear squared away, continued our medical training with a stronger emphasis on trauma, and packed up our belongings. Don continued to ensure we had everything we needed to go out, which was interesting because we later found out he had grown to “hate” all females that were attached to their teams because they all seemed to be “easy” and a huge distraction for the team guys. We thankfully managed to change his perception, which was a godsend, as we desperately needed his help to prepare for what was ahead of us.
I wished I could find the exact words to describe what I was feeling as I prepared mentally and physically for my upcoming adventure…but I couldn’t because there weren’t any.
CHAPTER 10
Days 32 and 33
One of Our Own
30 May and 1 June 2008
30 May 2008
I knew in the back of my mind it was likely to happen, but I prayed it wouldn’t. Doc came into the Med Shed with a look of shock and disbelief that morning.
“Are you ok?” I asked him. However, I knew full well he was far from ok.
“No, I’m not Jennifer. We lost one of our own from our unit yesterday,” he said. Up until then, all of the Fallen Comrade ceremonies had been for someone outside of the Special Forces personnel; making them distant enough for me to dissociate, but this one was much different. He had been on a mission and was killed in action due to a secondary blast from an IED. Because he was in our unit, our participation in the Fallen Comrade ceremony was much more intimate. Instead of lining the sides of the main street of the base, we formed up on the flight line to be present when the remains entered the aircraft that would fly him home.
The day leading up to the ceremony was melancholy. I sensed such pain in the faces and eyes of the soldiers I worked with, especially Doc. His grandfather had been a prisoner of war, and he took all of what we were doing out there very much to heart. He was quiet the whole day; preoccupied with ensuring the fallen soldier’s team members, who were also injured in the mission, were taken care of to the best of everyone’s capabilities. He wanted someone greeting them at the hospital, at the flight line when they were arriving, and when they were leaving.
The ceremony was held at 0001 (12:01am) due to the flight schedule of the aircraft. As we lined
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