Caught with my pants down

April 16, 2011

OF all the times to come into ‘contact’ with insurgents, I’m pretty sure being dressed in nothing but a towel is not the best.

But a few days ago during a visit to a 45 Commando Patrol Base in Kalang, in the district of Nad-e-Ali, this is exactly what happened.

The phrase ‘caught with your pants down’ springs to mind.

For the past five days we have been visiting the Arbroath-based Royal Marines unit in their AO (Area of Operations) west of Camp Bastion.

If anyone ever questioned the level of threat it was clearly apparent after reports of someone laying an IED nearby.

However in the hours leading up to our first patrol of the visit, ‘benign’ seemed to be the key word.

“It’s been quiet for months here,” said one officer.

“Because of the bad weather Afghanistan has experienced in recent months, it has pushed back the poppy harvest, so they’re more focused on that than fighting us.

“At the moment it’s pretty benign. Saying that though we’ll go out there and it’ll be D-Day.

“There is also an IED threat and that is rising.”

Kitted out with our body armour, cameras and several litres of water (it’s been around 37 degrees in the shade), we went out on a two-hour patrol to meet and greet locals and to provide some ‘reassurance’ on the ground.

On patrol

Having been based largely at Bastion since arriving it was good to finally get out on the ground to see the real Afghanistan.

While of course there was the ever-present danger of IEDs, and contact with insurgents, the patrol provided a glimpse of Afghan life.

A young boy walks past a Royal Marine patrol

Children, many dressed in brightly-coloured sparkly clothing, flocked to greet us as we yomped.

The opportunity of a sweet, or even a pen, from the marines seemed too much for even the most shy-looking child.

The local men also seemed keen to stop and say hello and ask us about ISAF plans for roads, schools, and infrastructure in general.

A farmer smells a fresh flower while talking to British servicemen

All in all you got the feeling the locals are happy with the British being here, and what they are trying to achieve.

The marines were keen to ask how the men were, whether they were happy, and whether they had heard of any Taliban activity in the area.

The locals were also keen to show of their bazaar, which had recently re-opened after insurgent activity.

My interpretation of a ‘bazaar’ was obviously very different to the reality of an Afghan bazaar. It features a handful of shops, ranging from a motorcycle repair show, a chemist, and a green grocer – all contained within small sand-coloured mud huts.

The Afghans were clearly very proud of their bazaar and it was reassuring to see their smiling faces.

Overall the patrol went without a hitch and we were back by mid-afternoon.

After conducting a series of interviews with the lads we settled into some downtime that evening ahead of another planned patrol the next day.

And that’s when the contact occurred.

At about 9.30pm I decided to have a strip-wash to freshen up after the hot and dusty patrol.

I was literally just throwing some water on my face when the sound of gunfire filled the night sky.

I wasn’t alone. A marine was also washing at the time. We looked up at each other, caught a glance, and then hurriedly made our way back to our tents and body armour.

The whole base seemed to jump to its feet and ready itself for a fight. Some marines ran towards the gate to provide back up, while others readied themselves for the order to deploy.

And we stayed in our tent under guard until the order to ‘stand down’ came through at about 10.20pm.

It was a short exchange of gunfire just down the road from the entrance to our base, at a vehicle check point, but it made everyone jump to their feet.

Not least us. Nothing can quite describe the feeling of hearing gunfire, especially knowing it is aimed at you or your surroundings.

In many ways life goes in slow motion. It’s like being in an action film.

So with the following day came the investigation into the event.

Keen to continue to show their presence in the area and to provide reassurance, the marines took to the ground once more with us in tow.

Providing reassurance 'on the ground'

The locals were clearly upset and concerned by the incident and wanted answers.

Angry Afghans confront British forces

It had been the Afghan National Army – which had been manning the check point – which had returned fire after coming under attack.

As one young Royal Marine officer put it “if someone puts bullets into the side of your house, yes you’re going to be annoyed about it for whatever reason.” Clearly.

The locals had gone two months without hearing the crackle of gunfire so it was a shock to them, not least us.

So after the three-hour ‘reassurance and investigation’ patrol, we returned to base.

As you can understand, we weren’t told the exact circumstances of the incident. Sometimes it’s probably better not to know.

Sadly, I’m sure it won’t be the last incident of its kind in this area.

Stay safe fellas.

Twitter: @tristan_nichols

How not to blow yourself up, and other useful advice

February 17th, 2011

IT’S my birthday today and I’ve just been given the most important gift in my 33 years – advice on how to spot an Improvised Explosive Device.
For the past two days I’ve been on a Contractors on Deployed Operations (CONDO) training course as part of my own pre-deployment training.
In a matter of weeks I will have swapped the save haven of Devon for the badlands of Afghanistan.
This will be my third deployment to the war-torn country in the last six years – and by far the longest and most demanding.
More than 1,300 Royal Marines, Royal Navy personnel, Army commandos and reservists from Plymouth will be in charge of providing security in Afghanistan.
I will be living and working alongside hundreds of these servicemen and women for up to three months.
As well as filing stories, blogs and pictures for The Herald and its website, I’ll also be presenting, editing and filming pieces for the British Forces Broadcasting Service (BFBS).
This footage will be beamed to British forces outposts all across the world (think of a dedicated news and programme channel for the forces) as well as the internet (www.bfbs.com/news/).
These stories will also appear on The Herald’s website for you to view.
In the past couple of weeks I have been asked countless times ‘why’ I would want to deploy for such a length of time.
I guess the reason is for the experience. And also to help paint a better picture of what our boys and girls are up to.
So today, in preparation for my trip – or ‘summer holiday’ as some members of staff at Herald HQ are jokingly referring to it – I’m in Buckinghamshire learning how to stay safe while working and living in one of the most dangerous places on the planet.
“BFBS?” the course lecturer and former Royal Marine begins.
“That’s the channel the Taliban watch right?!”
Great.
Lesson one – the biggest threat to British forces personnel deployed on the ground is the Improvised Explosive Device or ‘IED’.
A couple of years ago no-one had heard of an IED. Sadly, due to the rising level of fatalities caused by the nasty device, it’s now become common knowledge. Even my mum knows what an IED is.
In warfare an IED is a key part of fighting, and sadly the Taliban have realised this.
For those who don’t know IEDs – or roadside bombs – are laid to take out either people, or vehicles.
Often they’re not designed to kill. More maim those affected.
The idea is that someone steps on one, loses a leg or legs, and others come to help exposing them to gunfire.
If that’s not nasty enough to read consider this – the Taliban are reportedly running out of shells and explosives left by the Russians when they gave up their war in the country in the 1980s.
Instead they are now making their own bombs filling harmless looking water containers with nuts, bolts and washers to create what is known as a ‘shipyard confetti’ or ‘bucket’ bomb.
“Some are lucky and they lose a foot or suffer an upper body injury,” the course lecturer tells us.
“Some aren’t so fortunate and lose multiple limbs or die.”
Ignorance is bliss at the best of times. Right now I wish I hadn’t been paying attention to the last five minutes.
The lecturer continues with a story about witnessing the atrocities first-hand, and tells us about ‘mine necklaces’ or ‘daisy chains’.
These bombs are linked so that when one goes off and a casualty is dragged to what appears to be a safe place, another goes off in that location.
I’m quick to learn the Taliban have developed their nasty tactics.
Be it radio-controlled, victim operated or suicide bomber vest, the techniques for killing are expanding rapidly.
Aside from first aid, the second major lesson of the CONDO training was all about ‘conduct after capture (including kidnapping, hostage taking and abduction)’.
We’re told ‘to increase the chance of release – stay positive. Also, ‘don’t stare (avoid eye contact)’, ‘follow instructions’, ‘be prepared to be drugged’ and ‘bound and gagged’ and ‘speak when spoken to’.
Although the vast majority of our work in-theatre will be carried out in a British military camp, there will be occasions when we deploy ‘outside the wire’.
So this advice is invaluable. Much like the servicemen and women taking part in daily foot and vehicle patrols, you never know what may happen on any given day.
As far as birthdays go this one has been memorable, possibly for all the wrong reasons.

Twitter: @tristan_nichols