Highs and lows

May 17, 2011

FIRST things first I must apologise for the lack of updates in the past 10 days or so.

As you may well appreciate atmospherics change in an instant out here and we are either called away to cover something outside, or we’re tasked with something else.

The past 10 days have been busy to say the least, with plenty of highs - and sadly lows.

The low point has of course been the announcement of the death of Marine Nigel Mead of Plymouth’s 42 Commando RMs.

The 19-year-old’s death struck a chord in me as, after deploying on operations with 42 Commando on Herrick 9, the unit made me an ‘honorary Royal Marine’.

In the grand scale of things it may not mean much to most people, but for me it was a pat on the back and a sign of acceptance and trust.

So when news broke of the death of Mne Mead it hit home, quite literally.

I’m a born and bred Plymothian and I know how proud Plymouth is of its Royal Marines.

I maybe out here, where the focus is very much on ‘getting the job done first before grieving’, but I know there will be a great many marines who are truly hurting inside.

That was all too evident reading the full eulogy for Mne Mead.

As I scrolled down I counted no fewer than 21 tributes from his Commanding Officer and members of Lima Company alone.

His death – the first for 42 Commando during this Herrick 14 deployment – obviously hit home to the lads too.

We spent the best part of a week with the unit two weeks ago.

Throughout the foot patrols – and the time spent at the patrol bases with the lads – the recurring theme of conversation was that of the threat of Improvised Explosive Devices.

As I wrote in a piece for The Herald in Plymouth, tragically the lads were expecting something like this to happen.

Sadly it was only a matter of time.

Closer to home the city is grieving too. The Vicar of Bickleigh’s church has paid tribute and countless comments have already been posted on The Herald’s website.

It’s a world away from here but it seems we’re all united in grief.

The full extent of that grief will be perfectly evident when 42 Commando returns home in the autumn.

For now though the work continues.

So once again, I apologise for the lack of updates on here.

Last week we were out and about for five days in the Nahr-e Saraj region of the upper Gereshk valley with the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards (Warthog Group) and 3rd Battalion the Mercian Regiment.

Rather than blobbing the three-day operation on the end of this blog, I’ll write a more colourful account, which will follow this entry.

Hope you’re all okay.

Twitter: @tristan_nichols

A heavy burden to carry

April 30, 2011

Imagine patrolling up to 15 kilometres a day, every day, in temperatures around 40 degrees Celsius while carrying your own body weight in kit.

Add to this mental image the threat of ‘contact’ and Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs).

Bleak picture hey? Well this is what our boys and girls are doing out here in a bid to reassure the local Afghans that they can go about their business in their own communities.

We’ve been out on four or five foot patrols now and they are tough. And I mean really tough.

This week we spent a few days with Plymouth’s 42 Commando in Nad-e Ali.
Many of the lads boasted at having taken part in patrols every single day since arriving five weeks ago.
Yes it’s part of their job, and indeed it’s what they’re trained to do, but you got to admire their strength, resilience and attitude.

One lad, clearly going down with heat exhaustion, threw himself in a river to cool down half-way through the patrol.

But even in the harshest of environments, with all the associated risks, they can always muster a smile for the small Afghan child who wants to greet them.

For me personally it was great to see the lads of 42 Cdo.

I have an affinity with them having spent a month embedded with them on 3 Cdo Bde’s last Afghan tour in 2008/09.

Having completed an operation with them, and countless foot patrols, I was made an ‘honorary royal’ when they arrived back home to Plymouth.

It was one of the proudest moments of my life and one I will never forget. With the constant reshuffle in Royal Marines units, I wouldn’t have been surprised if none of the lads here had recognised me. Fortunately many did, and it was great catching up with them about things.

As long as you can keep up with the banter, you’re accepted. And there was plenty of that on our meeting.
“Part-time now are we?” remarked one royal.
“Do you want me to carry your bags sir?” said another.
“I’ll race ya...” was my reply to most.
It went down well.

Uk media newsdesks up and down the country are forever asking us journalists for ‘kit’ stories. You know, a piece with a group of bootnecks moaning about the kit they’re supplied with by the MoD.

For once everyone here seems happy with the kit. Be it the vehicles, body armour, weapons or ration packs.

It’s good to know that they feel they have the tools to do the job. 

Definitely a 'tool' for the job

What they don’t have in terms of personal effects or home comforts, is sent out from home in care packages.

Just to see their faces light up when there is mention of post, is a truly beautiful thing. Of course, they’re made to share out any biscuits, peanuts or sweets sent to them by loved ones with the rest of the lads but it really does brighten even the darkest day.

Returning to the relative safe confines of Camp Bastion, away from the real drama is strange.

All your emotions build up when you’re out on the ground. You feel truly alive with your senses running into overdrive. And then you’re delivered back to the comparatively dull existence of being on a camp.

I find it hard to describe. I guess in some ways it’s a small part of the emotional feeling which the lads have when they arrive back in the UK after being out on the ground for so long.

Twitter: @tristan_nichols