Group,
Eric played in this game for a while, playing "Tyler". We email each other once in a while, he's now in the US Army and deployed to Afghanistan as a Psyops specialist. Following is an email he sent me recently:
I am still getting settled in to this area. I am in Kandahar Province, but close to the border with Helmand Province. The nights are starting to get colder, and I find myself using the Chigo brand air conditioner less and less. It still gets quite hot during the day, and winds will come down from the Hindu Kush mountains. North, all around me for about 45 degrees around the horizon are the igneous, volcanic formed mountains; a testament to the ancientness of this land. The haze blocks out the sun; that haze being sand as fine as talcum powder. When one walks through the stuff, is was as though someone upturned a baby powder bottle filled with brown tinted powder, and poured all over one's boots. It's literally that fine in texture. For those of you who watch the television show Archer, this definitely wouldn't be the type of sand Archer would want to put into Woodhouse's eyes.
The compound is about the size of a small baseball diamond; perhaps smaller. We don't have much stand-off from the village we are connected to, but for the most part, things around this particular village are peaceful. I live in a metal shipping container that has been fashioned into a living quarters, with plywood walls that are insulated, beds, plywood shelves, and even a gun rack that was installed by the previous occupants. If you look at the picture I attached that shows my horrible excuse for a beard, you can see the gun rack behind me.
Also inside this building is my radio station. Working in the field of Psychological Operations, part of my job is to influence the population around us with radio programming. I manage a mobile system that is essentially an FM radio station like back home; only in this case, we only reach out 15-20 kilometers in ever direction. Our frequency is 95.5 FM, and although we have an official name for it when sending reports to higher headquarters, the radio station is affectionately called "Voice of The Infidel" locally. To what level that affection is, I cannot be certain, but it's certainly something. The locals like us around, it would seem.
Since I, along with the rest of the group of different military specialties, just got here, we are still in a settling in phase. Things should pick up over the next few weeks once we get into a rhythm, and the operational tempo increases slightly. We are taking things in stride; 9 months has to be taken in stride. The food is alright. The Army cook here, a guy assigned to the two squads of 3rd Infantry Division soldiers attached to us, he seems to take a lot of pride in his work, he strives to keep us fed well, and fed in a clean chow tent. In comparison to my last deployment, this cook will actually eat his own cooking which is a good sign; whereas "Smitty" last year over in Farah Province, assigned to the 1st Infantry Division Cavalry dorks, would serve up what that SF ODA "A Team" commander would call "Another Shitty Shmitty Shpecial." People would get sick, and my friend, a Special Operations medic who used to be in the 82nd Abn Div, had to eventually put his boot in the guy's ass because of the sickness that started happening.
There is a definite difference in climate here. It isn't too drastically different, but it is noticeable. This part of the country is a little more "green," or what poor excuse of "green" this country can produce. A lot more farmland, and even corn, can be seen around this area. Water comes from ancient aqua ducts that supply water to community wells. A well that supplies a town or village compound is called a "Karez." The necessity and sacrament of water is so important here that whole towns that are at the ends of mountain washouts where the water collects are named Karez in some way or another. People also enjoin themselves to other communities by a karez in their area just as an American would hail from a city, or a neighborhood, or a county. As I've said before, folks around the world are all very similar in many ways; we do however have differences, some okay, but some just insane and disgusting. I won't delve too deeply into that, as some of you I am writing already know all about it, and some of you might not have the stomach for it.
That being said, I am alright, alive, healthy as anyone can be in a place such as this, and I will update you again soon.