The Plan was secured. We were the first ready to move and the first to get the nod. Our escape planned for early in the morning, while most of the REMF's still slept. Now it was time to hitch a ride and Chinook Taxis looked the same whether going to our new hooch or one on the other side of the lawless desert mountains. We loaded up the boxes as complaints were made that everyone else had too much and it was too heavy.
We helped our competing colleagues going other places get their stuff on other birds, each box weighed and inventoried to ensure the beast had enough fuel and more importantly enough lift to get over the mountains. Whether they were relieved to have not drawn our card or upset that we had gotten the priority place, they kept their mouths shut about the place rumored to be the hottest in desert.
Like nearly every other place in the Stan, ours was nicknamed "The Alamo." Each equally proclaimed its right to the name and obviously ours had the strongest case. It was miles from anyone considered friendly but probably had fewer Americans than did Davy Crockett's force back in the day. Many had their Bowie knives and a few other knives as well.
The Firebase Commander met us on the LZ and his men helped transfer our boxes to waiting trucks, but conversation is difficult when in the heat of helicopter exhaust that creates hurricane force winds. As the noise of the Chinooks retreated into the mountains
and was replaced by the winds of the valley, "They told me you boys were from Alabama but no one told me they were sending the front line from Alabama football team," was finally heard from him.
We got the nickel-dime tour and our own tent. They were short-timers as well but that didn't mean there wasn't still work to be done. My time in Germany served us well. The rest of them had no idea how to use the old pot belly diesel stove that kept us warm at night. They'd have figured it out if I hadn't been there, but it's always better to keep that kind of thing in house, when you can.
It was time to pimp me out again, not only to build rapport but also because the winter of 1423 was soon to set in and the current "shower" was an aberration. It was built over an abadoned attempt of a well. Several hundred feet had produced no water but a great place for the "grey" water washed from our dust encrusted sweaty bodies. The plywood was more a curtain to prevent comrades from an eyeful than walls to keep out the elements. And the water was filled into "solar shower" bags that "held" 3-5 gallons and was hoisted high enough to run out over the Soldier.
Our tent had a front row seat to the "shower" but still our feet were covered in dust before we could get back to it. Solar showers are great inventions. They work well at warming water, unless they leak it out before it can warm or the air and ground they're in contact with is seeping out the heat faster than the sun can heat it.
The "shower" had been built in the summer when it was nice to feel the warm breeze afforded the 2 foot open space at the bottom. The cool breeze now was less than welcome on our wet bodies. I was happy to be allowed to use my construction skills to create a fully enclosed shower that utilized passive solar heating (opaque plastic) to warm the air, to run some electrical wire there for some heaters to help. A colleague put together a list of plumbing materials along with a water tank to take care of that part.
And it was time to call in a favor, when the REMF's responded by calling our requests for a decent Roman era shower, whining and crying. First the REMF's were reminded of their hot showers, in pre-fabricated but fully enclosed facilities, then they reminded of the ease of life near a PX, no matter how poorly stocked, then they were reminded of just who it was had ensured they had a warm, dust free work enviroment to support the troops at The Alamo.
Supplies began arriving piecemeal. We had troops from several units, each in small numbers, and each asking through their unique channels. We had a united plight, even if we reported to different elements at different times in different places that didn't talk to each other in the rear.
The Rear wanted to play a game and we made sure we knew the rules. They may not have collectively been on the same team, but we were. It was 4 commands against their 4 united underlings.
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