Downtime

AFTER a month reclining in the relative luxury of Lashkar Gah (showers, good food, a proper mattress and all that sort of thing), the principal town of Helmand, I'm now the proud owner of a day off - a pretty unusual occurrence in this part of the world.
My time as a liaison officer has been pretty hectic, but very educational. It's the hub of everything that goes on, so it was quite an eye-opener. I don't think I've ever seen so many colonels (British, Afghan, American, Canadian, Danish, and even Estonian) in my life!
It's been reported in the news quite a bit that there were a few heated exchanges with the Taliban around "Lash Vegas" over the past couple of weeks, but their attacks were pretty ineffective, especially when you add the Army Air Corps' Apache attack helicopters into the mix. The sound of one of their 30mm cannon roaring into life definitely makes you not want to be on the receiving end. I think the Taliban must feel the same way, because they gave up pretty quickly.
But 90 per cent of the time, it's a relatively peaceful place. The sound of the normal everyday hustle and bustle of any large town is distinctive and plentiful in Lash. At the weekend, children fly brightly-patterned kites high above the low, flat roofs of the city. Taxis and motorised rickshaws come and go, car horns hoot and the cries of market traders in the bazaar fill the air. It's quite satisfying to see that there can be some sort of normality amid the fighting and the chaos that it invariably brings.

Having now escaped from Lashkar Gah (and as an infantryman, the feeling of being released from a desk job to go out "into the weeds" is a great relief. So, I've got 24 hours back in Bastion to "re-cock" and get ready to go out into the field. I'm due to meet up with my team and go out to one of the patrol bases scattered up and down the Helmand river.
I'm not going to pretend that it's going to be a walk in the park: these bases are pretty austere (another reason I plan, during my day off, to eat as much food as possible and take about, say, 10 showers), often consisting of something akin to a mud hut surrounded by a barbed wire fence.
It's proper frontier stuff.
The other problem we're going to have to contend with (apart from bad men who want to shoot at us) is the weather. Up until about a week ago, one could quite comfortably walk about in shorts and a T-shirt at all hours of the day, but the temperature at night and in the mornings has taken a notiecable plunge. Sweaters and the occasional "wooly pully" are beginning to be sported. By the end of November, it's going to rain and rain heavily at that. Then we can look forward to a cold winter - and by cold, I mean down to -20C at night, and not getting much above freezing until elevenses. Lunchtime al fresco dining should still be possible though.
I've been burying myself in reports, pictures and maps of the area we're going to, getting orders from my boss and planning how we are going to deal with this little part of Helmand that's going to be our responsibility. The job's going to be doubly interesting, because we're going to have to take into account how the Afghan National Army want to do things as well!
Goodbye until next time.

Can't stand the heat? Get out of the kitchen

CHARGING forward, the desert sand blowing in my face, dust finding its way into everything, my breath sounding loud and unnatural through my ear defence, loud and rasping through the dryness of my throat, my body armour and webbing hanging heavy from my shoulders and waist, sweat pouring down my back and forehead and the heat constant and unrelenting.
Down, crawl into position, take aim with my rifle, fire off a few shots while the other fire team zig-zags its way forward to the next bit of cover, crawl, up charge, down. Then crawling up the bank, grenade out of pouch, pin out, hurling it towards the enemy, taking cover and BANG! Rifles to the fore, pouring rounds into the bunker. MAN DOWN, MAN DOWN! Someone's hit. We pour more shots toward the enemy, some of us grabbing the casualty and hauling him back towards safety, a long, lung-bursting half-run with the dead weight of the injured man suspended between us before we're out of contact, getting into cover again and watching for the enemy, who may follow to try and finish us off.
Fortunately, our enemy on that day was wooden targets, although the rest of it was real. Since arriving in Afghanistan, we've been involved in a pretty intense training package to get us ready to go out around this hot and dusty country. We've had briefing after briefing on the enemy, on what to do if we find an Improvised Explosive Device (IED), on security, on all manner of things which make up the complexities of a modern war being fought halfway around the world.
And we've been on the ranges practising our tactics, firing our weapons, throwing grenades, learning about the weapons which the Afghan National Army uses and acclimatising. Lots of acclimatising.
The temperature is in the high 30s, not as hot as it gets in the height of the summer but enough to make an Englishman, used to maybe 30 degrees tops sweat a bit! The sun really beats down from a completely blue sky. I saw a cloud last Friday, the first for a week. But when the weather starts to break at the end of October, I'm promised I'll have all the rain and cold I want.
It's a country of many contrasts. The extremes of summer and winter, the sudden change from desert to "green zone" as you fly over the River Helmand and the cultivated areas either side of it - much like the Nile in Egypt - the mountains to the north of Helmand Province which jump out of the desert like huge craggy monoliths.
We are all very relieved to actually get here and start to get on with the job, despite the best efforts of the RAF to delay us us much as possible (I told you I'd complain about them - six hours of kicking our heels at RAF Brize Norton).
I managed to go and visit my colleagues from Corunna Company in their mini-camp inside Bastion the other day, and they are all in good spirits. Some of them have already gone out to the FOBs (forward operating bases), so they are happy to be getting stuck in.
I'm due to deploy with my team to a patrol base sometime in the next few weeks, which I'm very excited about. I'm currently a liaison officer between my battalion, which trains the ANA, and one of the other battalions here in Helmand, helping co-ordinate operations between the two.
It's all exciting stuff and is really opening my eyes to the complexity of this operation. Sure, I knew that there were lots of strings that needed to be pulled together to make an army function effectively (let alone two armies, with a language barrier thrown in), but until you've seen it in action it's hard to comprehend how big a machine it is.
But it's the end of another long, hot day and I'm going to shower away the dust and relax in an air-conditioned room with a film on, while I still can!

Goodbye to Blighty

The next time I write will be from Afghanistan. It seems like a lot longer than three months that I left civvy street behind to become a full-time soldier, but it's also flown by. Anyway, at last me and the other soldiers of Corunna Company and 1st Battalion, The Rifles are ready to go. Training's complete, kit is packed and all we now have to do is throw ourselves upon the mercy of the RAF to get us out to Helmand.
It's about a six-hour flight (although it could take a lot longer, because just like Heathrow Airport, there's a lot of waiting around involved), which is a long time for those of us who are on our first tour to sit in an aeroplane seat wondering what's going to greet us when we get to Camp Bastion. We'll spend a few days acclimatising before we get on with the job - a friend of mine currently out in Helmand Province tells me it is scorchingly hot there at the moment - so we'll be fully settled in by the time we go out on the ground.
It's pretty exciting, and even though I'm a little nervous I can't wait to get on with things.
Even better, I've just found out that I'm being made acting Captain for the tour, which has got me puffing my chest out and standing a couple of inches taller. And of course, Captain sounds much more dangerous and dashing than Lieutenant!
So here's looking forward to posting from Afghanistan, hopefully with plenty of interesting stuff to tell you about. And a better suntan. See you on the other side.

Medical notes Part 2

a) My Achilles is feeling much better thanks to the horse pills handed out by the medical centre.

b) The malaria tablets are VILE.

c) The vaccination has given me man flu. Please send sympathy!

In the spotlight

The BBC has published a story about Corunna Company's deployment to Afghanistan - click on the link below to view it:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/devon/7601838.stm

If you are a Facebook user, you can keep up to date with progress by looking at the group "Support Corunna Company in Afghanistan"

Medical notes

Less than eight hours to go until I have to start taking my anti-malaria tablets, in case Taliban-trained mosquitos come and bite me in the night. Apparently the pills make you go mad and bald, which for me is just hastening the process. And I've been stuck with more needles to vaccinate me against some sort of screaming heebie-jeebie disease or other. Oh, and I'm on super-strength painkillers because the doctor tells me I've got titus omni vitus or something in one of my Achilles tendons. Apparently that means I've got an inflamed sheath. But apparently it will go down in a couple of weeks, so I will be fighting fit, hurrah!

Nose back to the grindstone

THREE weeks’ holiday, like I’ve already said, was a bit of a luxury, but it was surprising how much I needed it after two and a half months of non-stop activity. It was great to be able to wake up in the morning (ok, sometimes the afternoon!) and not have to worry about anything. No parades, no cleaning filthy kit and weapons, to timings to stick to, just plain old relaxation.
Even so, it was still a busy holiday. I managed to get around the country and see quite a few of my relatives, and spend some time with my girlfriend. What was really good was that she has passed her driving test, so I could get her to chauffeur me around for a change!
It wasn’t all great fun though, because sadly my grandmother died after a long illness, which unfortunately meant that I got to see even more of my family and other relatives, but not in circumstances which I’d really wanted to.
But now I’m back on duty and everyone is ready for the flight. In fact, we’ve mostly got to the stage where we just want to get on with it rather than waiting. All of our training is complete, down to the final few briefings on the situation in Helmand, the latest drills and tactics we need to know and all our kit packed and stowed for what’s likely to be a six-hour flight into Kandahar before we move on to Camp Bastion.
The anticipation is certainly mounting and there’s an atmosphere of determination and even some excitement around camp, that we finally – after months of training – get to go and do the job. How do I feel about it? Well, I’ve been experiencing mixed emotions. I think that after seeing home and my girlfriend and family I’d been feeling some trepidation about it, because as we all know it’s ain’t a pleasant place, but as soon as I got back to camp and was able to get into the swing of things again, all that evaporated and now I’m champing at the bit. And of course, the British Army is the best in the world, so there’s nothing to worry about! By the way, my kit did fit into those bags in the end.