The Twilight Zone

It was another 7-hour flight from Shannon to Kuwait City, followed by an hour's bus ride to Ali Al Salem. The airport is surrounded by four - four! - barbed-wire fences, and although we were travelling in luxury coach buses, we had an armed convoy. The ensuing few hours were pure chaos as only the Army can create; we had briefings, baggage unload, and more briefings. Because I'm headed to Afghanistan as a single replacement, I am now on a stand-by (space-R in military-speak) list for Bagram. There are three flights tomorrow, and it seems that I will likely get on one of them.

Walking around Ali Al Salem, I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. I have seen these "tent cities" on CNN and the like (and even walked through one at McGregor Range in New Mexico when James was living there), but seeing it in person is bizarre. There are literally hundreds of tents set up dress-right-dress on the desert sand, with latrines and showers on two sides of the compound. The accoutrements are quite good - McDonald's, internet (albeit not wi-fi ...), KFC, a rug shop, two gyms, a Starbucks equivalent - but it gives me an strange feeling that even at 2 in the morning local time, this place is absolutely bustling. This base is clearly a 24/7 operation, as I imagine most of the operations in theater are. And considering that my body has no circadian rhythm at this time, the full-bore operations at 0200 are perfectly OK.

So now I get to sit in the "terminal" (which, by the way, bears no likeness to the traditional aiport terminals I am used to - see picture) for the next 24-48 hours until my name is called to board the aircraft. (I turned down the opportunity to sleep in a tent - I didn't want to move my 250+ pounds of equipment back and forth every day while awaiting the flight.) Earlier in the night, I pulled my body armor and kevlar helmet out of my duffel bag, and it sits near my leather recliner in the terminal. I've staked out my place - and now it's time to wait.