The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles
I was going through some pictures from Afghanistan, when I remembered one late evening.
We had been sorting and moving, I don't know, one-hundred thirty thousand pounds of mail or so, and we were dog tired. You know that feeling. The one where you can barely put one foot in front of the other. You don't bother to focus because it's too much of an effort.
For some reason the lot of us found one skid particularly funny. It was no different than any other skid of triwalls, just as overloaded, just as back-breaking as the previous thirty. Someone started laughing, and it spread like fire. Before you knew it we were chortling and wheezing, the cold air hurting our lungs as guffaws of laughter echoed throughout the warehouse. After a short while, we were wiping tears from our eyes, looking at each others and could think of no place we would rather be.
There were other nights, easy nights. Nights that you made quick plans to get together with your friends and watch the latest movie on someone's laptop. Or maybe you met up with them and got your electronics, internet, or commo squared away. Or maybe you just sat around the hootch or bunker and shot the breeze, talked about home, or maybe the future. Sometimes you missed being home, sometimes you wished you were home. Sometimes, that was home.
Now I'm sitting around here, waiting for my next contract to start. I wonder what everyone else is up to, how they're doing. You get the occasional email, but it just doesn't convey the camaraderie you had while there. And sometimes you just get that feeling
You sweat the stuff because you're so far away. Is Johnny ok, wherever the devil he is this week? Is Paul running convoys again? Is Herbie close to a bunker when the rockets start raining down on them?
I have friends running convoys.
I have friends down in Helmand Province.
I have friends on mountain tops and ridgelines.
I have friends ... in Afghanistan.
When you guys get around to reading this, remember you are never far from my thoughts and prayers.
Albert A Rasch
Member: Bagram Tent Club
Member: Hunting Sportsmen of the United States HSUS (Let 'em sue me.)