Camp Phoenix

Friday, September 16, 2011:

Since my departure from Camp Pinnacle was set for mid-morning, I took my time packing.  Being at Pinnacle for only 5 weeks, I was leaving with much more than I came with.  How I managed to accumulate so much stuff in such a short amount of time remains a mystery to me.  Suffice it to say that such is the life of a pack-rat. Among my newly acquired possessions were a couple of blankets, two small pillows, and a few articles of clothing from a guy who was ending his mission.  It didn’t matter that the clothes didn’t fit; I figured I’d use them as barter somewhere down the line.  Marius, the big Romanian driver also loaned me a carrier – a vest that’s worn over the bullet resistant armor.  It holds various pieces of equipment like extra ammo magazines, a sling for the rifle, an individual first aid kit, a flashlight, and other accoutrements to hang on one’s body.  The trouble was that all the “extras” ate up space around my small frame, leaving me to look like the Michelin Man.  It also made it difficult to access many of the pieces that I hung on the carrier, as they were pushed up against each other. 

Despite gathering the additional stuff, I still managed to fit it all into a duffel bag, a rolling suitcase, and my backpack.  I got help carrying my gear to the truck from John and Patti.  On the way out I asked the masseuse and nail gal to take parting pictures and said my goodbyes. 

Final farewells - John "The Specimen" Green, Me, and Patti

 

"The nail gal," me, and the masseuse

Some of the remaining crew at Camp Pinnacle, as our numbers began to dwindle

One of my favorite solo shots of Patti - Is he "Jersey" or what?

 

In good traffic conditions Camp Phoenix is about a 10 minute ride from Camp Pinnacle.  It’s also closer to downtown Kabul, the country’s capital, and a short distance from many embassies, (American included).  Located within this hub, are a number of ministries and other offices associated with the seat of Afghanistan’s government.      

As we pulled into the main gate, I caught a glimpse of the legendary “Rambo”, a Camp Phoenix hero.  The two previous times I visited Phoenix I never got to see him at his post.  He began working at the camp’s front gate in 2003.  Since then he has been on the lookout at the front gate with near perfect attendance, alongside private Afghan security workers and members of the U.S. military.  He is truly the camp’s first line of defense. His well-known status is due to him single-handedly prevented a suicide bomber from entering the camp in a vehicle-borne improvised explosive device (VBIED).  He was credited with saving the lives of the soldiers and workers who were present that day, and as a result, was commended by President Bush, for his actions in defending the base. A good article appeared in USA Today a few years back, and can be accessed at http://www.usatoday.com/news/world/2007-03-08-rambo_N.htm.  It’s a good read.

Once on Camp Phoenix, all occupants must exit their vehicles to unload their weapons.  After making my sidearm and rifle safe, I returned to the truck for the ride to my new quarters.  The camp requires that most vehicles follow a “ground guide” – someone on foot that walks ahead of the vehicle.  As we slowly trailed behind our escort, we passed the parked “Rhinos”.  These are massive armored vehicles used primarily to transport personnel from base to base.  They resembled giant book mobiles with heavy armor plating. Being painted a drab desert-colored tan, made them look even more imposing. I immediately thought that if I needed to travel, I would prefer to ride in the rhino.  As we passed the rhinos, a parade of all types of vehicles led by their pedestrian guides continued in the opposite direction.  As we approached each oncoming vehicle, the ground guides turned their faces away from the billows of dust and diesel emissions in order to keep from sucking in the fouled air.  As we passed the PX, laundry facility, and post office, the procession of different vehicles continued.  There were large, hulking MRAPS (Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicles) and MATV’s (all-terrain vehicles), some with their turrets still manned.  There were Humvees; American armored SUV’s; Bulgarian and Romanian military vehicles; construction equipment; as well as vans and regular passenger cars carrying Afghans in their traditional garb.  Each vehicle added to the swirling dust and dirt that prevented a clear view of the distant mountains that surrounded the camp.

Some of the military vehicles common to the camp

 

As we followed our ground guide to the left, I heard the sound of helicopters.  Seconds later, two Blackhawks took off from the other side of the concrete wall to our right.  Their rotor wash kicked up more plumes of dust and grit which added to the grimy air.

Constant helicopter take-offs and landings near the B-hut took some getting used to.  Shown here are transport choppers.

Blackhawk helicopters - They always travel in pairs

Twin rotor Chinooks: When these land, the entire B-hut shakes - literally.

 

After about a ½ mile walk from the gate, we finally made it to the “B-Hut” which would be home.  I was met by two team members, Ken and Kenny, who were extremely welcoming and helpful.  As I retrieved my belongings from the truck, I met the remainder of the team who also extended hearty welcomes and immediately began to make me feel at home.  They showed me to my room within the “B-hut”, and began to give me the low-down on Phoenix living. 

Basically, our B-hut is a small plywood building (photo), partitioned off into eight rooms. Since the 6 ft. walls don’t go all the way up to the 8 ½ ft. ceiling, one can still hear each other’s’ telephone and Skype conversations, snoring, and other bodily sounds.  They still, however, provide some degree of privacy.  The room was rather Spartan – a bunk bed with one mattress and some makeshift plywood shelves – and measured about 7’ x 9’, with faux wood linoleum flooring that was bulging in some areas.  The only other furniture in the room was a lop-sided swivel chair that was probably taken from somewhere else on the base. A good layer of dust covered everything.

Home sweet home- entrance to the B-Hut.

The cozy interior of the B-Hut.  I think it needs a little "something"...

After dropping off my gear, I was given a walking tour by Ken, the team’s lead.  Among our first stops were the dining facility (DFAC) and gym, both of which were open 24 hours.  We then walked to the running track, which encircled the helicopter landing area.  I immediately recalled the dust that was kicked up by the choppers as they lifted off and decided that rather than suck in the smog and dirt, I’d steer clear of the running track.  

Machines in the well-appointed gym

Open workout area where the jiu-jitsu club meets three times a week.  On the other side of the mats, basketball, roller hockey, and volleyball is played. 

...and my favorite area of the gym (note the popcorn machine - all you can eat for free!)

 

As I took in my new surroundings, I was taken by how busy the camp was.  Throughout the post, people were constantly on the move.  Considering that we were in a war zone, with all the base had to offer, it seemed like a good place to be.  Just knowing how good the food was at the DFAC was enough to make me feel fortunate to be assigned there.

I was told that I should use the next day to set up my room, and therefore wouldn’t be traveling with the team to the training site.  I went to the PX hoping to get a lamp, sheets, and another pillow – all to no avail since the shelves were pretty bare. No worries, I was just glad to be there.