1. Frequently practiced, used, or experienced.
2. Being in the habit of…
3. Having been adapted to the existing environment and conditions.
I open my eyes in a pitch black room, looking at my tritium illuminated watch, confirming it’s 04:15 AM. It’s time to work. Opening the door, I am welcomed by the cold morning breeze that the Afghan winter currently provides us with. The afghans have already started one of their five prayers called Salah, having huge speakers in every town that functions as a cock in the early morning that tries to sing the verses of the Qu’ran. It all feels a bit more familiar now, and I give no further thoughts on the subject.

The weeks pass us by, giving promises that we will grow even more accustomed. At the same time giving the promise that we are soon be at home again with our loved ones.

Both Christmas and New-Years eve has passed by quite painlessly. I didn’t feel anything remarkable on any of them, once again giving me a feeling of pure detachment from human tradition and culture, a feeling I truly embrace at times like this. The people of Afghanistan and their culture dates back to the year 632, when Muhammad died and became the martyr prophet, creating one of the largest known religions we know about today. Their timeline to this day according to the Hijri calendar (or Islamic calendar) is 1433, and they celebrate their new-year sometime this spring.

Our days are filled, as usual. Every day is planned and nothing really goes to spare. My commander has pointed out several times that his goal is that we aren’t suppose to be inside the camp, but outside “doing our job” as much as possible. I produce the thought, “Sure thing”, while pushing away the lazy-human-side I got inside of me.

The weeks has also given us time to adapt. As said, i’m getting accustomed to the thought of getting up early and going to bed late. I’m getting accustomed of always having my assault rifle at hand and daily having to walk around in my personal combat gear, ready for a war that seems way too distant at times. I’m also getting quite accustomed to be welcomed by villagers throwing stones at us or giving us the finger, while the next village may cheer at our visit like saviours. I’m getting accustomed of having green vision during night patrols while a Reaper class drone with hellfire missiles is howering above us. What I never really get accustomed to, and never fail to get astonished about, is the sight of the mighty mountain chain of Hindu Kush who casts it’s shadow upon our mortal souls while streching out like a spine of the earth, in the not so far south. The mountains itself have a direct connection to the Himalayas and the name Hindu Kush litterally means “Kills the Hindu” in English. History lessons tells the stories of slaves transported from India that died in the harsh weather that is typical for the Afghan mountains. Hence, the name.

I miss a lot though. I can give you that. Eventually though, I know I will miss all this. So I try everyday to enjoy everything as it is. That is my conquest.

Lance Corporal Fresh, out.


One Response to “Accustomed”

  • Homecoming | Moment 23 Says:

    […] and my northern boys. But we know the drill. We got the tricks up our sleave. We will need to get accostumed once more and when we do; we will hack n’ slash n’ thrust our way into our enemies core […]

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