By Jay Kirell
** Be advised this article contains graphic photos not suitable for the squeamish **
As an follow-up to yesterday’s post about how I spent Chanukah in Afghanistan, I thought it would be only fitting to book-end that with the story of how I spent Thanksgiving.
By late November, most of the small-arms fire and daily attacks our outpost received had died down. This is pretty much an annual cycle in Afghanistan not too unlike the monarch butterfly migration. As such our platoon had time to engage in “luxuries” like celebrating holidays.
Thanksgiving was the first one we celebrated. By that time our platoon had been in-country about six months. We had only received a real-live cook (or Food Service Specialist) and dining set-up the month prior. For the first five months we ate MRE’s, scrambled eggs cooked in a 10-gallon pot over a barbecue made from burning plywood, frozen steaks that came in (literally) garbage bags, and anything else that you can hold over a crude fire and heat up enough to eat.
So when Thanksgiving finally came around the platoon was looking forward to a big, fat turkey…made by a real cook trained to actually…cook food for other soldiers.
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