Another Day, Another FOB

I expected at least a couple of Polish dishes at Ghazni, but the closest they came were various sausages (patties or links). Perhaps they save the Kielbasas, Pierogis, and other home delicacies for Friday nights, when the other FOBs are serving surf and turf.

Our billet was austere, one quarter of an old brick and mortar structure. Perhaps it was an office or supply area when initially constructed, perhaps by the Soviets. It was subdivided more recently into eight smaller areas with two by fours and plywood, although the walls fail to reach the ceiling by a couple of feet. Just as well, this saved the subdividers from reworking the lighting, so the previously installed (and existing) fluorescent fixtures shine into all of the rooms. Of course, there’s just one light switch that controls them all.


In other multi-man billets it’s the same problem. How can you tell if you’re the last one needing light? Ultimately, I’ve found that the solution is to read as long as possible, and then listen carefully for loud bitching when I flip the switch off. The best part of this plan is that I get as much light as I need. However, when I get up at 0500, it would be considered quite rude to light up the hooch all at once, so I’m usually gathering essentials in the dark or by flashlight and off to the showers at first light when the crowds aren’t so bad.

The bed itself was a ratty metal bunk (sleep on the bottom, gear on the top). The mattress was actually a well used box spring, that wouldn’t quite fit the frame due to some of the supporting metal. At least it wasn’t too creaky, so I didn’t worry about waking up the rest of the building, when I got up at 0500 to start my day.
At Ghanzi, the showers were adequate. Good pressure. Plenty of hot water. Galvanized walls and slatted wooden floor. Nothing remarkable, really (besides those last remarks). No, the toilets were remarkable. As you shall soon find out.
Immediately inside the shower curtain door of the stall is the first step.

Seriously. Users have to step up to approach the toilet. It’s not a big step. Actually, it’s on the narrow side, much less than the length of a foot, and difficult to maneuver while scrambling up the second stair. On this raised platform then, atop the second stair, sits the throne, the front edge aligned with the edge of the step so that, when seated, forward legs would find themselves eight inches below a normal floor elevation. However, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from disgraced former U.S. Senator Larry Craig, it’s the Wide Stance. Only now do I understand why he would need such a posture.

Except for the gay bathroom sex thing.