Smile for the camera boys!

Brent’s best stories always begin with a deep breath, followed by a long pause and then, “So…..”

So…. I turned up at the airport at 11:30 for a 12:30 flight. Breezed through security…mostly by charming the guards. Fortunately my friend Meredith was on the same flight so we just hung out in the airport waiting……

Problem was that we…..

…..waited for an hour while one plane taxied away from the airport to the German base

…waited for another hour through a visit from a President candidate, Dr. Abdullah Abdullah

…we waited for yet another hour while two additional planes landed and taxied away from the airport

Security guard helping me with my knitting project.

While we waited I began knitting, which caught the eye of the female security guard. Soon she had taken my knitting from me to show me her handiwork…this caught the attention of the men who soon invited me over to sit under the fan. We talked in broken Dari / English. I found out that Ali, the incredibly poilte and very sweet 11-year-old boy who’d helped me with my bags into the airport was the female security guards middle son. I showed her photos of my nephew, my niece etc. (They’re always horrified I don’t have 10 of my own children – but are happy at least I like kids.)

Me atop the airport tower in Mazar.

Then Wali, who must be some kind of airport manager, invited Meredith and me up to the tower where the German Air Force manage operations. We climbed the steep cement staircase and I have to admit I was a bit nervous invading German territory uninvited. Their translator came down and talked to us through the security door before finally buzzing us in.

Climbing the last three steps we emerged into the tower and into the AC. For the first time all day I felt cool. The Germans were polite, but suitably skeptical about what we were doing there. We explained about our situation, waiting for hours etc., and they perked up. You have to love men who are suddenly faced with a problem to solve. Within minutes they had hailed a UN flight, talked to the pilot and secured a seat on the plane for me.

One of the airmen took me out to the plane to meet the pilot, unfortunately the pilot thought the passenger was part of the ISAF force so reluctantly told me I couldn’t fly with them. Turns out he could lose his job… bummer!

Luftwaffe Lads!

So plan “B” was a Russian Antanov being flown by the Americans that was supposed to take off from Kabul. By 6 p.m. Meredith and I were tired of waiting. My colleagues had long since given up and gone home. So we called Meredith’s driver and headed downstairs. A few minutes later we were informed that there was a “credible IED threat” on the road to the airport. There is only one way in / out…so we were stuck. As Meredith’s driver had not yet gotten to the airport, he turned around and went home.

Our next step was to call CIMIC (German Base) and ask them if they could send a car to take us to the base (which is just behind the airport). Initially we were told yes, then it suddenly became impossible.

Meanwhile, I talked to my Director who had been calling the Country Director etc. keeping her informed of my drama. I called our Security Director and that’s when the whole process went tits-up. I went from feeling safe sitting on the steps of the Mazar-e-Sharif airport…to feeling like I was being shot at (not that I have been…but still).

The Security Director basically told me he was 80% sure the threat was just a rumor and that he would call a soft-skinned car for me. (I should mention that the other option was me riding home in an armored vehicle (AV) either with Meredith or with Neil.) He felt as though the the AV was too high profile so the soft-skin would be less likely to be attacked.

Sunset over the flagpole outside the Mazar airport…and IED may wait beyond the gates.

To be honest, there is some poetry in this line of thinking, that is until you’ve seen what an IED can do. They are devastating. The one I drove past a month or so left nothing but a mangled drive train and a hole in the road. The rest of the vehicle including the suicide bomber were blown so far out into the field, you didn’t notice them. So, imagine my joy at being told, by someone hundreds of kilometers away in Kabul that his best guess was that it was a rumor and that I should jump in an unprotected car to test his theory.

About 45 minutes later a convoy of German military vehicles blew past (on their way from sweeping for IEDs). Meredith’s driver arrived some time later and we went home.

The crazy thing is that everything happened for a reason. I was jerked around on planning my R&R and that made me decide to spend a night in Kabul to talk to the Program Director – and as it turns out, I don’t need to meet with him, but I did need an extra day to get to Kabul. So, am going with the theory that “all’s well that ends well!”

Stay tuned!