PC?

Alright people, get on board. I have my own quote. So, you all know KAF is a big place mainly inhabited by US, British and Australians and little pockets of other smaller players in the coalition effort. Smaller in the size not heart, most of these countries are fairly endowed with manly marbles if you get my drift. Anyway, there is a company of Portuguese Commandos getting ready to deploy back to Portugal and they are all over the place. Over the last week, I’ve noticed the cultural diversity in there ranks and tonight I realized how damned politically correct I’ve become. Well, more like stupid. Anyway, I was at dinner with Partamian and I said “There sure are a lot of African Americans in the Portuguese Army.” Partamian and I looked at each other at the same time and started to snicker. It was a humorous moment
Last week we reconned our future home. It’s about a 45 min Chinook flight from here. Seems like a nice, small place. “Lash” Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) is a British run FOB and they seemed welcoming to our team. Everyone seems to have plenty of time to work out because it’s so damn hot after 1200 not much happens. I left KAF with a mere temp of 106 degrees and landed in Lash to 125 degrees. The next day it was 130 and the day I flew out….136. Note to self…”don’t reincarnate as cookie dough; I’ve already been in the oven.” Of course, you all know I don’t believe in reincarnation, but that thought did cross my mind. You think about weird stuff around here. I’ve come to find out that the average temp in the summer months gets to about 150. Yeah! Skin cancer anyone? So, seems like most work is done in the morning and the afternoons are more sedate. One thing I did notice was how cool 95 degrees and no humidity felt after a day in hell, plus when I got off the helicopter in KAF I felt like I was in vacation in the Alps. They say it gets to about 0 in the winter.
So, let’s discuss the pastry chef et al. Most of the bases have contract (KBR) employees that do the cooking of mediocre food at best. This place has a platoon size (30) element of British soldiers that do the cooking. Among them is a pastry chef et al. Oh my Lord! I didn’t believe it until I saw it. In the midst of the desert was dessert. With the dinner meal every night there’s about a 12 top table full of nothing but fresh pastries and desserts. OK, not good for the gut. The Brits do a 6 month tour. I told a Brit Captain that we’d hold the chef by gun point until May. It took a while for him to realize I was joking. I guess the whole “Tea Party” thing is still deep seeded in there roots. At any rate, I’ll probably need to fast lunch and keep insulin handy for the overeaters in the bunch.