Tonight we assumed command of the QRF mission. We took all of our battle gear to the QRF cage and organized a radio watch roster. We have two hour shifts watching the radio, while the rest of us await a call that may never come. My squad is in charge of the QRF mission for 24 hours, followed by 24 hours of down time while our fourth squad assumes the mission. We will continue this rotation for the next few weeks.
A supplemental duty of the QRF mission is to care for the QRF dog. The dog is a mutt named Gizmo. Nobody really knows who's dog it is, how long it has been here, or what its real purpose is, but its a very friendly dog. It doesn't bark, except for every night at the same time... I'm guessing it was trained to part at a quarter to eight every day. It sleep outside and leaves the cage only to go for walks. Walking the dog is a daily duty for us, along with feeding, and brushing the dog too.
When we're not on duty during our 24 hour missions, we're required to stay inside the QRF cage. There's a day room for us to hang out in, equipped with sofas, a television and a refrigerator filled with soda and water. Aside from the day room, there's also a small pavilion with weight lifting equipment under it, and a horseshoe pit. We just finished a game of horseshoes in the dark while awaiting our first shifts of duty. We were surprisingly accurate with our throws for having no light, but I still lost to Pashley.
I just completed my first duty shift, from 0000-0200. I sat in the TOC (Tactical Operations Center) and drank 5 cups of disgusting bold French roast coffee from the cheap Egyptian coffee pot inside the TOC. I'd die for a good cup of Wawa coffee right now. Just black, no cream or sugar. Or a 16 ounce Wawa Iced Tea... either one. I really miss Wawa. Besides the hourly radio check with the Sector Control Center, nothing happened. It's a reoccurring theme for our observation reports.
Anyways, time to sleep. I have 8 hours until my next duty shift. Tomorrow I have to PMCS the HMMWV's and wash/walk the dog.
Talk about a broken post. It's now the afternoon, and we're about to handoff the mission to fourth squad. It's been a crazy day. A few duty shifts and a couple hours of cleaning later, I've completed day 1 of the QRF mission.
Today I experienced my first sand storm. I was inside when the storm began. A raucous noise bellows from outside the day room as I break to watch a history channel special on the lost city of Atlantis. It's still rather warm outside, yet the whipping wind is chilly. The wind picks up and slams against the side of the remodeled connex freight container while the fence rattles as its shaken from and slams back against the foundation poles. I dare not go outside, for fear of losing my hat to the wind. Opening the door is a losing battle anyway, while sand invades the cracks of the doorframe, coating the tile floor. Sweeping the sand out is pointless; more enters than I am capable of brushing out. As the sun sets, the haze coming from the west resembles a mist. The coarse, fine, needle-like sand stings as it bombards your face, unforgiving and unyielding. The wind responsible for the storm is the same culprit who has sent what seems like a landfill of trash tumbling and crashing into the western fence of our internal OP. The old newspapers and food wrappers cling to the fence like a child clings to his mother's leg. I have to shield my eyes from the sand while plucking the trash from the fence. If only I had brought my ballistic glasses. After finishing my final detail for the day, I become a refugee to the wind and seek shelter. Closing the door is an even harder battle than opening it. From inside it sounds like the wind has calmed, but the light sound of sand tinkering against the steel container wields the truth. It was quite an unforgettable experience.
Picture today is of SPC Clegg, the gremlin doggie, and SPC Pashley in the day room watching tv.
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