A sailing vacation is supposed to be relaxing. Right? Allan Cram and his family discovers the stressful side of paradise.
Alan Cram sets off for Canterbury to apologize for a murder committed by one of his ancestors, a knight of Henry II, many centuries ago. How would you feel if one of your fore-bearers had brutally murdered an Archbishop?
Decompressing after being stationed in Afghanistan is like being a diver coming up from the depths, trying not to get the bends. Civilian helicopter pilot Allan Cram reflects on how to regain balance after being in a war zone.
As a civilian helicopter pilot in Kabul, Allan Cram tours the city and quickly discovers that even something as innocent as a swimming pool can be put to horrific uses in the hands of people like the Taliban.
In the streets of wartime, Kabul, the chaos is remarkably organized despite all appearances. The effect is surreal as Allan Cram discovers while driving through Kabul’s streets amidst reports to beware of a suicide bomber in a yellow Toyota.
A Canadian civilian helicopter pilot experiences what it’s like to navigate the streets of wartime Kabul where chaos reigns. How hard can it be to find a swimming pool in a city under threat by the Taliban?
This week, helicopter pilot Allan Cram discovers the safety and security manual he says his crew should have received when they first arrived in Afghanistan. Better late than never? Maybe not in a country in the midst of war, where every common type of gunfire is identified in a manual.
Civilian helicopter Allan Cram continues to question the sanity of flying to Afghanistan’s Kajaki Dam where a forced landing would mean almost certain capture by the Taliban. Cram has no intention of becoming being “the next Internet beheading victim.”
A civilian Canadian helicopter team in Afghanistan tries to get to the bottom of his customer’s request that his crew fly alone into one of the country’s most dangerous territories, Kajaki Dam. Meanwhile, the crew is being berated by the Country Manager for “being chicken shit.” But there’s brave, and then there’s stupid…
When I arrived in Kabul on August 6, after travelling about 24 hours, I was met at the airport by the other crew, and was then told about the suicide bomber in the yellow Toyota, the theft of the police uniforms, and about a scheduled flight the next morning — in 11 hours — to fly south to a Forward Operating Base (FOB) 65 miles northeast of Kandahar to take photographs of a bridge along the highway…