Eindhoven Airbase

Since I’ve already announced that we’re safe and sound in TK, this entry (and possibly the next couple entries) will be a little out of order. But we wanted to fill you in on what it was like getting here.

At 8am on Wednesday morning we arrived at Eindhoven airbase. I think the moment we pulled up in our cab was the first time we began to realize what we had got ourselves into.

We found ourselves in a steady stream of soldiers and families. Of course, because of the families, we were far from the only civilians there… but we were the only ones who were going to be on that flight to Afghanistan.

So we knew we were in the right place… it just didn’t feel like we belonged there.

We were joining these soldiers (really, just kids, most of them) on their way to a warzone. Where they would work and fight and maybe get killed far, far away from their loved ones.

I’m not sure how this realization had escaped me before this moment. But it only got stronger when we went inside.

The main part of Eindhoven Airbase is just a big hall - just like any other airport I guess, only this one was standing-room-only packed with soldiers and their gear and their families.

It was crazy.

I know that doesn’t do much to describe things. But that’s what comes to mind.

For one thing, it really was packed. Even crossing the hall to sign in required long detours to avoid buddies greeting their friends, couples hanging on to each other, entire families clustered around their particular soldier.

This wasn’t the first time I’d seen this kind of thing - when I worked in the US, I reported on a local battalion leaving for Iraq (I’ll never forget the speech, “Eagle battalion has landed!”). In the US, it had a very celebratory atmosphere - the army band played marching songs, there was a hotdog stand, kids were running around with balloons. Of course there were lots of tears too. But it had an air of excitement.

Not so in Eindhoven.

Not that it was sombre… but it didn’t feel like a party.

Maybe because it was 8am when we all arrived. Maybe because the Dutch aren’t so demonstrative with their feelings. Maybe because they aren’t so patriotic.

Whatever the reason, it had a different feel, almost… business-like. The guys - and their families - were much more stoic.

After a short, not particularly inspiring or rousing speech, the guys said their last goodbyes and started filing through the doorway next to us. We followed them through to the check-in area. I found it very funny that it was exactly like checking in at a regular airport - you hand over your passport, you pray that your baggage isn’t over the weight limit when they drop it on the conveyor, they print out a little ticket and you are sent over to “departures”. The biggest difference is that you’re surrounded by guys in camo uniforms.

I have no idea why I continued to be surprised by this, but the gate was also just like a normal airport. The guys sat around waiting… waiting… waiting. Even the military experiences flight delays!

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