at the 101st, which was enough to warn them of our pending arrival. The air was hot and dry as our plane touched down at Bagram Air Field. Having spent the year frye boots sale before in Iraq on another deployment, I was familiar with the summer climates of Central Asia. This time around, I had been talked into drawing even more military equipment than necessary (during mobilization) and was now lugging 6 heavy, duffle bags wherever I went. I kicked myself for ever taking the advice of someone who sat behind a desk at the issuing center and had never actually been to Afghanistan. But hey, I was impressionable. Walking out of the terminal, my ragtag group of part-time Soldiers was greeted by an enlisted NCO from the Headquarters Battalion. He had been tasked to find us bedding for the night and knew about as much as we did about our arrival. Thus, he could only provide information such as the location of the nearest dining facility (DFAC). Placing our bags into the bed of his truck and then squeezing into the front, we made our way over to the temporary holding tents named Dragon. The tents can best be described as insulated tarp huts, with large frye shoes fans for air conditioning, and packed full with Soldiers on their way in or out of Bagram. After signing in, I slung my stuff on my bunk and made my way to the closest shower, sure that after a weekend of not bathing, my uniform was now grafted to my skin. Sometime in the early afternoon of the next day, the same NCO that picked us up the evening before came back with more information. As suspected, no one in the 101st was aware of our arrival. This meant that we would be forced to sit and wait while the decision was made on what to do with us. Unlike me, most in the group did not have assigned duty positions and were clueless as to where they might go. Rumor had it, that due to the influx of American Soldiers in the Surge, 聯higher聰 was sending home any additional troops that were considered overflow. I admit I toyed with the idea of heading home after only having been in country a few days. I was home for only 45 days after leaving Iraq and spent most of those days travelling the world and partying. As such, I was now flat broke and probably nee.frye bootsded to stay at least for money purposes. The enlisted Soldier stated that it would be 3 days before we would be provided with any further information. In the meantime, we were to complete the mandatory training requirements of rolling around in simulated MRAP vehicles(think Tycho PowerWheels but the size of a Transformer), and firing our weapons out towards an empty field to ensure they still worked... you know, because we had used them so frequently since landing聟Those days could not have dragged on more. On Day 3, we were escorted into the 101st Airborne Headquarters (called the JOC) to receive our duty assignments. The 101st Division is titled the CJTF-101 while in Afghanistan, or Combined Joint Task Force, in reference to the Division聮s command (and partnership) over non-US entities in the region (it took me awhile to remember all of this, so don聮t fret if you聮re confused by any of this). One-by-one, we filed into the CJ1 (Combined-Joint) section to receive our job assignment from the Chief Warrant in charge. I sauntered in self-assured like, convinced that I knew what my job