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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!
Saturday, 13 September 2008
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"
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"
Thursday, 11 September 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, 20 August 2008
Explosion in the quartermaster's stores
It might still be another week and a half until I have to report back for duty, but when I woke up this morning I thought it would be a really good idea to start packing my kit.
After forcing open the door to my spare room, my first thought was to call the police and report a burglary, because the great big pile of desert camouflage-coloured stuff lying all over the place looked exactly like the title of this post, a massive, unfolded, mish-mash of trousers, shirts, combat jackets, boots, string, water bottles and all the other assorted paraphernalia which the British soldier gets thrown at them in the QM's store, rather like those scenes in the films.
After forcing the door shut again, going away, drinking several cups of coffee, reading the paper from cover to cover, going out for a run, having lunch, reading the paper again and generally using all the tactics one employs to avoid having to tackle a big job, I reluctantly returned to the spare room, in the vain hope that in my absence, the magic tidying up elves had done their job.
Alas, they had completely failed to help me, so I am writing this while the European Army Surplus Mountain sits there, staring at me in a challenging sort of way.
Suggestions on a postcard please, as to how I can fit this lot into a rucksack and holdall.
After forcing open the door to my spare room, my first thought was to call the police and report a burglary, because the great big pile of desert camouflage-coloured stuff lying all over the place looked exactly like the title of this post, a massive, unfolded, mish-mash of trousers, shirts, combat jackets, boots, string, water bottles and all the other assorted paraphernalia which the British soldier gets thrown at them in the QM's store, rather like those scenes in the films.
After forcing the door shut again, going away, drinking several cups of coffee, reading the paper from cover to cover, going out for a run, having lunch, reading the paper again and generally using all the tactics one employs to avoid having to tackle a big job, I reluctantly returned to the spare room, in the vain hope that in my absence, the magic tidying up elves had done their job.
Alas, they had completely failed to help me, so I am writing this while the European Army Surplus Mountain sits there, staring at me in a challenging sort of way.
Suggestions on a postcard please, as to how I can fit this lot into a rucksack and holdall.
Monday, 11 August 2008
We're all going on a summer holiday
I don't think I've ever had three weeks' holiday from work before! The only problem is that after the intensity of everything that's happened since I mobilised in June, I'm a bit worried that I might get a bit bored... So I'm planning to fill my time with catching up on all those things that I just haven't had the time to do for the last two months (seeing my family being the most important one of them!).
It's also giving me time to reflect on what we've done, what we've achieved and the size of the job ahead of us. The thing is, while I always expected to be involved in operations either in Afghanistan or possibly Iraq when I joined the Territorial Army, I never expected to be involved in the role I've now been given, that of training the Afghan National Army. In some ways, it's one of the most important roles the British Army is performing there, because we can fight the Taliban and charities and aid organisations can hand out food, tools and equipment all day long, but if there is nothing there to take over the security of the country when our work is eventually done, then things could return very quickly to square one.
That sounds like a lot of self-praise! The best bit of news Corunna Company has had is that the powers that be have been very impressed with our efforts over the past few weeks, so it looks like we might get used for some more interesting tasks away from Camp Bastion.
In any case, we're all looking forward to our leave, time to recharge our batteries ahead of a long flight out to Afghanistan and the real beginning of our adventures.
It's also giving me time to reflect on what we've done, what we've achieved and the size of the job ahead of us. The thing is, while I always expected to be involved in operations either in Afghanistan or possibly Iraq when I joined the Territorial Army, I never expected to be involved in the role I've now been given, that of training the Afghan National Army. In some ways, it's one of the most important roles the British Army is performing there, because we can fight the Taliban and charities and aid organisations can hand out food, tools and equipment all day long, but if there is nothing there to take over the security of the country when our work is eventually done, then things could return very quickly to square one.
That sounds like a lot of self-praise! The best bit of news Corunna Company has had is that the powers that be have been very impressed with our efforts over the past few weeks, so it looks like we might get used for some more interesting tasks away from Camp Bastion.
In any case, we're all looking forward to our leave, time to recharge our batteries ahead of a long flight out to Afghanistan and the real beginning of our adventures.
Saturday, 2 August 2008
Post-exercise admin
I reckon the vast majority of people would shudder at the thought of wearing the same underwear for days on end, washing out of a bowl of cold water and eating beans with every meal. Well, that's what going on a training exercise is usually like, but this one was different. Right across the Army's massive Salisbury Plain training area, the Royal Engineers had been busy recreating a series of Forward Operating Bases (FOBs) for us to use for our mission rehearsal training.
Now that meant food cooked by Army chefs, solar showers (a bag you hang up in the sun to heat the water) and cot beds, so we had a pretty comfortable time of things. We even had some simulated Afghan National Army soldiers to work with to practice how we're going to mentor them.
But what I wasn't quite prepared for was the sweaty, horrible experience of wearing Osprey body armour. It's bloody good stuff (in that it will hopefully keep me alive when I'm in Afghanistan), but it is basically two large, heavy plates strapped fore and aft. It's bulky, it weighs a lot and it makes you perspire freely. Or sweat like a dog, depending on how you look at it. That's why I'm about half the size I was when I began the exercise.
It's been an interesting two weeks, settling in to my new unit, the 1st Battalion the Rifles, meeting new people and getting used to how they do business. Of course, I've seen assorted members of Corunna Company cutting about the area, and at one point I even caught a fleeting glimpse of one of my North Devon Journal colleagues, Rupert Sims, interviewing a Royal Engineers captain.
Next week should be far less frenetic, as I'm going to be learning Pashtu, the language most commonly spoken in Helmand. Despite only having a week to pick up the basics, it's going to be useful to at least say hello to the locals and inquire after their health, their opinions on the weather and stuff about the pen of my grandfather's aunt (unless language training has come a long way since I left school). "Has anyone seen any Taliban?" may also be a useful phrase. It's pretty difficult really, because the usual foreign lingo picked up by us Brits is something along the lines of "beer and chips please", neither of which we are likely to be using in and around the towns and villages of Southern Afghanistan.
But after that, I've got three weeks' leave, so I'll be travelling around the country visiting relatives and friends, packing my kit and preparing for the off, sometime in mid-September. But complaining about flying RAF is something I'll save for another time.
Now that meant food cooked by Army chefs, solar showers (a bag you hang up in the sun to heat the water) and cot beds, so we had a pretty comfortable time of things. We even had some simulated Afghan National Army soldiers to work with to practice how we're going to mentor them.
But what I wasn't quite prepared for was the sweaty, horrible experience of wearing Osprey body armour. It's bloody good stuff (in that it will hopefully keep me alive when I'm in Afghanistan), but it is basically two large, heavy plates strapped fore and aft. It's bulky, it weighs a lot and it makes you perspire freely. Or sweat like a dog, depending on how you look at it. That's why I'm about half the size I was when I began the exercise.
It's been an interesting two weeks, settling in to my new unit, the 1st Battalion the Rifles, meeting new people and getting used to how they do business. Of course, I've seen assorted members of Corunna Company cutting about the area, and at one point I even caught a fleeting glimpse of one of my North Devon Journal colleagues, Rupert Sims, interviewing a Royal Engineers captain.
Next week should be far less frenetic, as I'm going to be learning Pashtu, the language most commonly spoken in Helmand. Despite only having a week to pick up the basics, it's going to be useful to at least say hello to the locals and inquire after their health, their opinions on the weather and stuff about the pen of my grandfather's aunt (unless language training has come a long way since I left school). "Has anyone seen any Taliban?" may also be a useful phrase. It's pretty difficult really, because the usual foreign lingo picked up by us Brits is something along the lines of "beer and chips please", neither of which we are likely to be using in and around the towns and villages of Southern Afghanistan.
But after that, I've got three weeks' leave, so I'll be travelling around the country visiting relatives and friends, packing my kit and preparing for the off, sometime in mid-September. But complaining about flying RAF is something I'll save for another time.
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