Holy crap this things gonna crash.

"So when are we leaving Bagram?" I asked.

"We are taking a helo out tomorrow," my sergeant replied.

"Oh ok cool... wait what? We're taking a helicopter there?"

"Yep, Chinooks."

Now I had never been on a helicopter in my life. Let alone a gigantic twin rotor military chopper. Needless to say I was rather excited. We woke early the next morning to prepare for the flight. We had our rucksack and our duffel packed and ready to go by 7AM. We were then told our flight was at... 1PM. Goddamn hurry-up-and-wait Army! It is common, no more than common, it is LAW in the Army that you will spend several hours a day most days sitting doing nothing. You must stay where you are doing nothing just in case somebody needs you at a moment’s notice to, I don't know, move boxes or something. Patience is a truly a virtue. We were then informed that we had a class to break up the monotony of the morning. After moving out bags a second time we sat in a small room and were joined by a full-bird Colonel. Now in the Army Colonel is right below General; pretty important dudes. As he entered the room we all snapped as rigid as boards, awaiting instruction. He was short and wiry with glasses. His hair was gray turning to white in places. He wore a small smirk on his face as he addressed the room of medics.

“You know what was the hardest part about being a medic back in my day?” he asked.

“What’s that sir?”

“Being able to chisel the stone tablet fast enough to keep up!”

We laughed and relaxed immediately. We were instructed on the style and effects of humanitarian aid missions in Afghanistan. I was absolutely looking forward to the missions and working with the local people. Unfortunately it’s not all peaches and cream and helping babies. Men in this society regard themselves as superior to women and children. I recall a Navy doctor telling me that they had set up a treatment center at a local village. The building being used was surrounded by a brick wall with one opening. As the locals began showing up the doctor noticed it was only the village’s men coming for treatment. She instantly halted the line and told her “terp” (interpreter) tell them,

“If we don’t start seeing some women and children we aren’t treating anybody.”

They caved and allowed the women and children to come. But there was another problem. The village men refused to allow the women to enter through their entrance to the compound so they tore the wall down on the opposite side rather than let them use the same one. That’s a taste of how men view women in this country. Class ended and we headed to the airfield where we were faced with about four more hours of waiting. How very thrilling.

At last it was time to fly! We marched out to the airfield and unloaded all of our bags for a third time.

Sanders' gay bag is ruining an otherwise hardcore picture.

I had seen pictures of the Chinook before but I never realized how huge this helicopter was until I saw it in person. We took our seats on the small metal frame benches with nylon seats and the pilot fired up the engines. The noise was similar to screaming babies and metal grinding and was deafening. I jammed my earplugs in and prepped my camera. I was sitting along the wall of the chopper near the back. The back of the Chinook has a drawbridge type door that was left open during flight. A crewmember was manning a machine gun mounted on the back gate. I had a clear view past him and out the back. I felt the chopper shift as we lifted off of the ground. Now I tried to completely trust a pilot who flies these every day but when we were taking off the chopper slipped slightly in all directions and I pictured it tipping sideways and smashing into the ground. Fortunately this was not the case and suddenly we were several hundred feet off of the ground.

“This is it. I’m really doing this,” I thought, “this is the shit in the commercials; this is why I love the Army!”

I am a complete junkie for new experiences and at that moment I was drunk with satisfaction. The noise was deafening and the wind blasted past my face. The view was absolutely breathtaking. I have been through the Rocky Mountains several times and let me tell you, they have nothing on Afghanistan. The terrain is absolutely brutal. We left the valley and the chopper tilted as we gently cruised around a mountain peak. The ground which was several hundred feet below suddenly rose as we crossed the jagged landscape. The thin, dirt roads twisted violently to negotiate the terrain. The tops of peaks shot near vertically down hundreds of feet to the base of chasms, which had been cut by a river over thousands of years. In the small areas where the land was smoother I could see little herds of animals and tiny villages dotting the landscape. Farm fields were carved into rectangle tiers like giant staircases leading up the mountainsides. I was snapping pictures faster than the paparazzi.

It looks like a recruitment poster.

We reached Methar Lam and once again as the chopper was hovering it felt like it was about to tip over. Once again, it didn’t. We jumped off the back gate and unloaded the chopper as fast as possible. We fell into a formation outside the landing zone and were greeted by our captain. As soon as the roar of the rotor blades faded into the distance he spoke,

“Welcome to Methar Lam!”