166 Days: My Journey Through The Darkness by Jennifer Clark Read Free Book Online

there.
    Eventually we had someone from Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force Afghanistan (CJSOTF-A) come and take us to where we would be staying. Bagram Airfield ( BAF I soon learned to call it) was divided up into various camps. Most of the Air Force personnel stayed on Camp Cunningham, but I was attached to Special Forces, so I would be staying in their separate camp. Once we got to our camp I was greeted by a Captain, Bob, a fellow Physician Assistant who had been expecting me.
    “Great to meet you Jenn. There is a lot to go over, but for now, I think it’s best if you take the rest of today and the next couple of days to get acclimated to the time change and get settled in to your room,” he said.
    His recommendation was very nice to hear, especially since I had been up for almost twenty-four hours, but I planned on going in the next day to start learning about what I would be doing at the FOBs.
    After parting ways with Bob I met up with Becky and Martha. They were two medics I met at my ACST training as well and was told they would likely be working with me once I arrived. I didn’t know too much about Martha, but Becky and I hit it off in training and I hoped we would end up working together.
    “Lt. Clark!” Becky said. “So glad you made it, I can’t wait to fill you in on everything and show you around later, but right now you look exhausted,” she said. “I know it’s rough getting here.”
    “Sure is, I’m ready for a nice long shower and sleep,” I said.
    “Ha! Long shower? We’re limited to five minutes tops!” she said, bringing me back to the reality I was deployed.
    The rooms were in structures called B-Huts, which were buildings made out of plywood and tin roofs with six to eight separate 9x9 rooms for individuals. I had a twin-size mattress on a wooden bed and a wall locker to store my belongings. The huts did have an AC duct, which worked in the daytime, but due to the lack of insulation and the heat of the climate, the room was still very hot. At night the AC unit didn’t shut off, despite the outside temperatures dropping into the 40s. It was not too bad, and certainly could have been worse, but the living conditions still fell under the “rugged living” category compared to what we were used to in the United States. Because I was an officer, I was supposed to get slightly better living conditions in something called a C-Hut, but there were no open rooms. I most likely would not be there long, so I felt there was no need to push the issue, plus I felt sure my B-Hut was luxurious compared to where I would be going.
    The dining facility (DFAC) was not bad; actually the food was surprisingly tasty. The food servers were all local Afghan men. As I was walking over to the DFAC, I saw a truck full of them dressed in their tunics and turbans, but for the most part they wore jeans and t-shirts just like us. They were friendly, and some of them were quite handsome. These workers had clean shaven faces and nice neat hair. I thought for sure they would not even acknowledge me; being that I was a woman, but I was wrong. Every time I passed by them, they would say, “Hello, madam,” or “How it going, madam?”
    The DFAC itself was quite an interesting experience. Keep in mind that on a Special Forces camp there were typically little-to-no females. Becky and I walked into the room and I instantly felt all eyes on us and could see the whispering and the winks and I felt completely singled out and an instant “object”. I knew it would be like this when I left, but couldn’t really prepare for it until I actually got there. The majority of the men in the Special Forces camp were in the same unit back at Fort Bragg, which meant they worked together in the States and deployed together every six to eight months as a big team. The current group would be starting to filter out the next day and the new group would begin to come in.
    “The Group here keeps saying the new guys are arrogant and