The Heat

When I was gearing up for this trip in the military stores around Ft. Benning, I was severely impressed with the compactness of my sleeping bag. It stuffs down into a bag smaller than a gallon of milk, and provides (as the bag says) comfort down to 45° F, and a low of 36°. Even though the temperatures up in the mountains can get very low here in the winter, it sounded just about right for me here in Kandahar where the lows don’t often brush below freezing. So I anticipated feeling pretty toasty in my tiny purchase.

If only I could fit inside of it.

I can get into it and zip it up almost to my elbows before it becomes obvious that I can’t fit both of my arms in there. And damn if it doesn’t get C-O-L-D in this tent at night! So each night when I go to sleep, I choose one arm to sacrifice for the greater good of the rest of my body, and switch them out when I wake up in the night unable to feel the cold one.

While this system has its flaws, it’s also steadily improving. The American PX (which is out of practically everything, but that’s another story), stocks these garishly patterned Korean blankets that resemble fur in the way they feel and the way they leave little lint balls all over everything you own. I bought one of these for $34.95 in a desperate bid to be warm over 90% of my body, and buddy did it make the difference.

The first night with the blanket I dropped off around 9:00 pm and didn’t stir again until 6:00 am. Of course, I’m faced with a new problem of having to leave my little cocoon of warmth for the reality of 30° air around me, and the cold concrete floors. But I suppose I’ll take that rather than be freezing all night.