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Joel Bashore
HQ CJTF-76
Asadabad PRT
APO AE 09354

Afghanistan and a Year of Medical Clinic at Puchi Ghar, far Below

Flying over Afghanistan soon to arrive in Bagram, and for the next several days we wait for a Joint Operations Center (JOC) Medical brief on April 22nd. Then catch the helo to A-bad, to begin a year working in the Medical Clinic at Puchi Ghar, just outside of Asadabad.

Arriving in Afghanistan via C-130

Bagram. I'm still in Bagram.

It's quite dusty here. It coats everything. Gotta brush your teeth 4 or 5 times a day to get the grit out. At least it's not hot yet. Living in the large circus tent they have us in would be unbearable in July & August.

I was surprised at how primitive and haphazard the layout and construction of this base is, especially after almost 5 years of our being here. Only one paved road ('Disney'); some of the facilities are pretty rudimentary: Early Plywood

Bagram

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Waiting in Jalalabad, as Hitchhikers, Transients & Strangers in a Strange Land

Lt. Joel Bashore, PA on 24 April, 2006: 1850 Local

I’m here in Jalalabad, Afghanistan in a dirty tent that, while feeling ‘EZ Bake Oven’ hot a few hours ago, is rapidly cooling in the evening breeze; listening to Yo Yo Ma on iTunes, tapping away on the keyboard, brushing bugs away every third or fourth word . . .


There are thirty-two of us waiting to get to Asadabad; about a hundred kilometers northeast. With the current combat operations going on along the Pakistani frontier there is a dearth of airlift available for passengers and non-combat cargo. This includes Navy & Army PRT members trying to get to their FOB (Forward Operating Base).

We have three, ancient canvas tents to hang out in, until we get air or ground transport to A-bad. Please, I’ll wait for air, if I’m asked. The road from Jalalabad to Asadabad is affectionately known as “IED Alley.”

(That was sarcasm in case you missed it.)

So we got ‘pushed forward,’ to Jalalabad, closer to our area of operations in the hope that we can get what the Air Force and Army euphemistically call a “lift-of-opportunity.”

This means we’re basically hitchhikers now; transients and strangers in a strange land. Maybe we’ll get out tomorrow; maybe the day after; maybe the day after that?

“Inshallah,” as they say.




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