Post Afghanistan

May 29, 2011

THE affection of the UK to its armed forces was clearly presented to me this week in the form of 400 bags of post at an outpost near Gereshk.

We visited the MOB Price camp for three days for a veterinary project involving the Afghans and Danish and British battle groups.

On entering the camp you couldn’t help but notice the vast array of grey Royal Mail bags full to the brim with parcels and letters.

We chatted to the postman and he told us this amount of mail was “not unusual” week to week.

I couldn’t help but question that if they get this much mail in the summer, how on earth does the postal system survive at Christmas?

It’s a fine balancing act and a difficult problem to get round.

On one hand the parcel of sweets and accompanying hand-written note from Mrs Miggins of Devon, addressed to ‘A Soldier’, is a lovely gesture.

But if Mrs Miggins’ parcel and hundreds of others sent by the goodwill army of the UK clog up the system, it means that letters and parcels addressed to certain servicemen and women from their family and friends will be massively delayed.

Any serviceman or woman out here will tell you that it’s lovely to receive a parcel or letter from anyone. It makes them feel appreciated, wanted and special.

But if they have the choice of that, or post from their family, I know which one they’ll choose.

The post is flown over to Afghanistan by plane and then taken by helicopter to the outposts whose servicemen then organise it being delivered around the areas.

In itself it is a huge effort. And when you have say, 400 bags of post, it’s a colossal one at that.

Fortunately Stevie, the dedicated postie at Price, has a couple of volunteers who help him with the mountains of deliveries.

But how do you solve the problem? The generosity and goodwill of the nation is sadly a problem.

Last year alone 3,723 tonnes of mail was sent via the BFPO system.
I’m sure even Postman Pat would throw a fit at the thought of delivering that.

So there are now a series of websites, which have been set up to help balance the issue.

If you’re looking to send out post to a serviceman or woman, try visiting: http://www.mod.uk/DefenceInternet/DefenceFor/ServiceCommunity/BFPO/ for information and advice.

There are also countless charities – many of which can be found online – who can assist.

Aside from the postal service the last 10 days or so have been busy for us here at BFBS at Camp Bastion.

We’ve had several injuries and tragically more deaths of British servicemen in the last couple of weeks, but the mood is still very much of focus and determination.

Everyone takes a risk just by being here among this madness, however the level of commitment has never been more channelled as it is today.

Twitter: @tristan_nichols

The 'jam in the sandwich'

March 24, 2011

“YOU could well be the jam in the sandwich,” quipped an officer as we prepared for our first operation in Helmand’s Nad-e-Ali district.

In theory the set up was simple: around three formations from B Coy, 2nd Battalion The Royal Gurkha Rifles, sweep the rural setting searching Afghan compounds for weapons, bomb-making equipment and of course insurgents, joining up eventually at a central location.

As we made our way north, the others would take different approaches towards us clearing compounds along the way.

But at the same time a separate plan was being launched in the desert by 45 Commando Royal Marines, and the Brigade Reconnaissance Force. They were attacking a known Taliban position, which could have seen them pushed back towards the populated area where we were.

Fortunately for us, we saw no enemy.

Shots were reportedly fired at one of the formations, and the insurgents quickly dispersed into the wilderness.

This was the 2RGR’s first operation (named rather weirdly 'Op Tara-Gorga-Ti 24' – meaning ‘brave badger’) since taking over the area of operations in Nad-e-Ali (south) – and they were keen to impose their presence.

A Gurkha keeps watch over the patrol

As well as the lack of insurgents, there was also a distinct lack of weapons caches, explosives, or anything else of note.

When the Gurkhas and British servicemen approached the compounds their Afghan occupants understandably looked terrified. 

A terrified Afghan family look on

This was especially understandable given the servicemen were accompanied by members of the Afghan National Army and Afghan Local Police – all carrying weapons.

While some may have seen the eight-hour operation as being a waste of time – given that nothing was found – it at least showed that the British forces are continuing their stance.

On patrol

It sought to show the enemy that they won’t rest, and that they are prepared to hunt down and find anything untoward.

Did the farmers hide the weapons or insurgents before we arrived? Had word got out that we were on our way? Were there really no weapons at all in a location which – in the not so distant past – had seen fierce fighting? Who really knows.

The experience of the operation for me though was a real eye opener.

It’s not every day you set off for a 10km jaunt into the unknown at 3.30am. Especially from a location as infamous as this patrol base - the site where a rogue Afghan police officer injured and killed a number of British servicemen last year.

With the only light being the near-full moon, the experience was as daunting as it was exhilarating.

Around whatever camp we find ourselves in from day to day there is a very present air of caution about what is happening right now. In terms of insurgent activity any serviceman or woman right now will tell you it’s “quiet”.

History dictates that the Taliban don’t like to fight in the winter, preferring instead to retreat. It’s strange but true – they don’t like the cold.

So as we bask in 42 degrees Celsius of heat, where are the bad guys? Surely after 10 years of fighting the enemy would know that the opportune moment to strike would be when a new brigade takes over the security of the region?

But yet still with that now been and gone, the dusty sleeping giant is seemingly yet to awake. One theory is that with Afghanistan’s winter being particularly harsh, it has affected the poppy harvesting.

A dried poppy

Evidence of opium being taken from the poppy

Certainly as we have patrolled around with the servicemen and women we have seen countless colourful poppy fields yet to be touched.
Many here think that this is the case, and that when the harvesting is complete in a matter of weeks, that is when the fighting will begin.

Of course the flip side is that maybe we are actually winning the war and the insurgents are facing defeat. It’s been quiet before around this time, but the feeling is that this time it’s almost too quiet.

Again, only time will tell.

Twitter: @tristan_nichols

Camp Bastion - city in the sand

April 4, 2011

It’s been around five-and-half years since I was last based at Camp Bastion, and it’s safe to say I don’t recognise a single thing - apart from of course the dust and the blank expressions of people who are quite clearly lost.

On Herrick 5, Camp Bastion was relatively new. It was fairly sizeable, but after a few days you got your bearings.

The Camp Bastion I met on Saturday night was an altogether different beast.

My my, the military have been busy.

And this was just part of the hospital in a small part of the base...

If anyone ever questions the commitment to Afghanistan, I’d urge them to read up on this place.

Camp Bastion is the British base. Sat alongside it is the American camp, Camp Leatherneck, and the Afghan camp, Camp Shorabak.

In total 20,000 servicemen and women, as well as civilians, live and work on the site which is based, well, in the middle of nowhere.

The British, American and Afghan servicemen and women are joined by others from Denmark, Estonia and even Tonga.

In 2005 we walked everywhere. Now you need a vehicle because everyone is based so far away. This place is huge – and EVERYTHING looks the same.

It is a dust city and everything is dust-coloured.

A view from Camp Bastion - a million miles from nowhere

Travelling around camp you start looking for landmarks or tell tale signs that you’re near your base. But there are no trees, sign posts, or street signs.

I need a notebook with GPS installed.

When I asked one Royal Marine the other day where something was he replied simply: “take a left at the big sand-coloured tent”.

Yep, even on deployment they’re still comedians.

There are three British canteens in Camp Bastion called DFACs (Dining Facilities), a few shops and coffee shops, a bar (which obviously doesn’t sell alcohol), a takeaway Pizza Hut contained in a Portacabin, a KFC – also contained in a Portacabin (which was apparently part installed but has never really opened), a fire station, a parade ground, an airport and heliport, and even barbershops.

Bastion now also has siblings. Different areas are called either Bastion 0.5, Bastion 1, Bastion 2, or Bastion 3.

And some of the old tented accommodation blocks, and other facilities such as the hospital, are now actual hard structures.

They even have traffic police (mainly American) who can impound your vehicle if you’re driving faster than 24km/h. Oh, and everyone drives on the other side of the road which takes some getting used to.

This base really is a living, breathing (if spluttering due to the dust) beast of a place.

It’s a crazy world we’re living in here.

But through the haze of the dust one thing appears crystal clear, we’re here for the long run.

So why should a military camp not boast some of the comforts of home?

Twitter: @tristan_nichols