Several folks have asked whether I am aware that I misspelled one of the words, crumudgeon, in the title of my blog. I am aware that the correct spelling is curmudgeon, but believe it or not youngcurmudgeon was already in use. I liked the title and figured I'd just spell it the way I think it should be spelled and then write a humorous piece explaining how/why I'm right. Stay tuned for said humor.
Presenting part 3 in a series of writings from a USAF Veteran who served in Afghanistan and Iraq. You can read part 1 here and part 2 here.
One of my most memorable missions into Kandahar was actually quite uneventful. The flight in was uneventful, the flight out was uneventful. We were on a detainee transport mission. I had never been a part of this type of mission before this night. The theater commander required certain training for the air crew and it is an extremely dangerous mission. I was very interested and almost excited. As an aircrew member, I am more accustomed to dealing with the enemy with a few jerks of a yoke and some counter measures. I was now going to meet the enemy up close.
While we were on the ground in Kandahar, I went to the back of the aircraft as we were loading the detainees. I asked one of the prison guards if I could see one of the detainees. He pulled one aside and took off his mask. What I saw was both intriguing and scary at the same time. I saw in the eyes of this detainee a wanton disregard for my human form. I felt if he was unshackled, he would have tried to kill me on the spot. I felt like if he could gain the whereabouts of my family, he would probably have made a run at ending their lives as well. This event is something I have spent a good bit of time thinking about since.
I have thought about the fact that he had been captured, that he was shackled in the back of a United States aircraft. His future was unknown. I suppose these factors contributed to this detainee’s hostile appearance, but it was something more than the immediate surroundings. This man had a deep seeded hatred for the man standing before him (ME!). I am amazed to this day that this man had such conviction that he would die for his beliefs. I have realized over time that he and I had similarities. I wore the uniform of an Air Force officer and pilot. I took an oath to protect and defend the constitution of the United States. I take that seriously, as did this man. He took an oath to protect and defend his way of life.
This event took place in the back of an aircraft, with the engines running, in the middle of a cold night in Afghanistan. The encounter lasted only 30 seconds or so. This event had a profound affect on my life. I remember this man as someone who had no respect for my life. Yet I somehow have respect for him and his convictions in what he believes, but I do not believe in this man’s way of life. Such is the dichotomy of war.
R.J. Strapper
US Air Force Academy, Class of 1997
317th Airlift Group, 40th Airlift Squadron, Air Mobility Command. We flew the mighty C-130H.
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