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

Jack speak

April 6, 2011

In the chaos that ensued as I packed ready for this trip I seemingly forgot one essential piece of kit – the Royal Marine dictionary.

Spending time with 'royal' is an education in itself. How or why they mix up and rename words for their own pleasure I don’t know. In fact, I’m not sure anyone knows. Is it not enough already for the military to abbreviate absolutely everything?!

One wonders whether servicemen and women speak to their families like this: “I need an ETA on my dinner because my CO needs me to confirm the TOA ASAP. Gen.”

Um, huh?

I guess it goes along with the whole desire to be individual and different from civilians like me.

Over the past few years as defence reporter for The Herald in Plymouth I have been given countless master classes in marine talk. So here I am once again unable to decipher whether:

(A) A marine is taking the mickey out of me

(B) Whether someone is asking me whether I would like a drink or need the loo

(C) If I’m ready to eat or run off somewhere.

Seriously, if you’ve ever talked to a serviceman – notably a Royal Marine – you’ll know exactly what I mean.

So while they might have only just left the UK for this current deployment to Afghanistan, it’s worth swotting up and rehearsing now in preparation for their return.

Here are a few definitions for you to get you started:

“Thredders” – tired or irritated.

“Galley” – canteen / dining facility (even though it’s not on a ship).

“Goffer” – fizzy drink (can of pop) or very big wave that soaks you through.

“Recce” – reconnaissance (as in ‘troop’).

“Scran” – food.

“Horrorcrockadockapig” (or something that sounds like that…) – ugly woman.

“Duff” – pudding.

“Icers” – cold.

“Redders” – hot.

“Pit” – bed.

“Wet” – drink.

“Hoofin” – good or awesome.

“Gucci” – awesome or good.

“Zero Alpha” – wife.

“Chad” – bad. (or as one marine put it… “picture your dad in drag” or indeed “that bloke from Nikelback”.

“Heads” – toilet.

“Essence” – good looking.

“Gopping” – not good looking.

“Slug” – sleeping bag.

“Racing spoon” – spoon.

“Gen” – genuine or truth.

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