“STAND two...” a voice says in my ear as I awake abruptly from a surprisingly decent night’s sleep.
“What?” I replied.
“Stand Two,” the commando said again.
“What the hell does that mean?!” I asked.
“Be prepared for attack,” he replied with a hint of seriousness now in his voice.
Oh dear lord, don’t they ever give up…?
It’s 5.45am and the sun is soon about to show its face.
Apparently in times of war the most likely times of coming under attack are at dawn and dusk. So there we are, largely shivering, looking through glazed eyes and waiting for the enemy to show his face.
Which he doesn’t.
“Stand down,” an officer informs us a short while later.
I return to my makeshift bedroom and clear my belongings ready for the day ahead. Fortunately the evil, scary, nasty-looking camel spiders didn’t come out to play last night. That’s despite Gaz wanting to poke one with a stick to see what it would do. Bugger.
We cook up breakfast which bizarrely this morning consists of tuna pasta. It seems I mixed up my rations and ate breakfast last night. Still, the meal is good and I think I’m becoming quite a dab hand at this war camping malarkey.
As I finish off the Commanding Officer wanders over and asks if I want to spend time with members of K company today who have made a number of finds.
I agree and before I know it, I’m in a formation heading to a different compound. Once again I can’t help but feel out of my comfort zone.
As we yomped along the side of a crop plot my attention is drawn to the colour green which is beside us. Beside me, stretching for as far as the eye can see, is a field of marijuana. I grab hold of the head of one of the plants, which must easily stand 5ft tall, rub it and smell it.
Bloody hell it is.
“We’re not here to deal with that,” a marine said to me.
Fair one.
By 10am I’m taking part in more clearance patrols with members of K company.
Word comes over the radios “two suicide bombers of motorbikes seen in your area.”
Here we go again…
As mentioned before it’s so difficult to establish who exactly the enemy is. As we wander around various village compounds we stumble across an Afghan wedding in full flow. Within seconds we are surrounded by dozens of children and adults who are keen to talk to us. The children, it seems are more interested in having my pen for some strange reason.
While interaction with a large group of locals is obviously good for gaining intelligence information on Taliban movements, it leaves the commandos wide open to an attack.
I find myself acting as a look out while this takes place. On several occasions I have to shout at some young men to “stay back” while the meeting takes place.
One of the elderly members of the Afghan wedding party actually asks the marines to search his home for fear that if the Taliban discover that they did not search his property, they would believe he was helping us.
Usually this would result in the man being hanged – or indeed his children.
We move on and form up with various other elements of 42 Cdo providing fire support across a crop field.
The order is given to find high ground in which to look out across the plains.
Much to my displeasure we move forward taking up a position on top of an Afghan burial mound.
The position is a prime one and it is believed insurgents used the post as a firing point on our lads a few days ago.
There is also the very real possibility that insurgents have buried weapons at the site believing we would not enter the scared ground.
Rather than dig up graves, the marines scam them using metal detectors. No weapons are found and we soon move off to another compound.
As dusk falls some of the 42 Cdo lads light up fat cigars celebrating the end of a successful operation.
Once again we sleep under the stars. I’m exhausted. I’m just not used to the amount of stress and anxiety involved with such an operation.
But, I must say, it has been an absolutely awesome experience and one which I will never forget.
I have felt very privileged to be involved with the guys at this level and really begin to understand some of what they do.
Some might label the marines as being bloody thirsty but they’re simply not. They want the best for people and, as much as they will draw weapons when they have to, they are as keen to engage with communities and make them feel safe and secure.
We’re being taken out of the area by Chinook tomorrow morning early doors. Can’t say I’m unhappy at the prospect. Having worn the same clothes for the last five days without a shower I am in desperate need of some TLC.
“What?” I replied.
“Stand Two,” the commando said again.
“What the hell does that mean?!” I asked.
“Be prepared for attack,” he replied with a hint of seriousness now in his voice.
Oh dear lord, don’t they ever give up…?
It’s 5.45am and the sun is soon about to show its face.
Apparently in times of war the most likely times of coming under attack are at dawn and dusk. So there we are, largely shivering, looking through glazed eyes and waiting for the enemy to show his face.
Which he doesn’t.
“Stand down,” an officer informs us a short while later.
I return to my makeshift bedroom and clear my belongings ready for the day ahead. Fortunately the evil, scary, nasty-looking camel spiders didn’t come out to play last night. That’s despite Gaz wanting to poke one with a stick to see what it would do. Bugger.
We cook up breakfast which bizarrely this morning consists of tuna pasta. It seems I mixed up my rations and ate breakfast last night. Still, the meal is good and I think I’m becoming quite a dab hand at this war camping malarkey.
 |
| My rations pack |
As I finish off the Commanding Officer wanders over and asks if I want to spend time with members of K company today who have made a number of finds.
I agree and before I know it, I’m in a formation heading to a different compound. Once again I can’t help but feel out of my comfort zone.
As we yomped along the side of a crop plot my attention is drawn to the colour green which is beside us. Beside me, stretching for as far as the eye can see, is a field of marijuana. I grab hold of the head of one of the plants, which must easily stand 5ft tall, rub it and smell it.
Bloody hell it is.
“We’re not here to deal with that,” a marine said to me.
Fair one.
 |
| Fields of 'Afghan weed' |
By 10am I’m taking part in more clearance patrols with members of K company.
Word comes over the radios “two suicide bombers of motorbikes seen in your area.”
Here we go again…
As mentioned before it’s so difficult to establish who exactly the enemy is. As we wander around various village compounds we stumble across an Afghan wedding in full flow. Within seconds we are surrounded by dozens of children and adults who are keen to talk to us. The children, it seems are more interested in having my pen for some strange reason.
While interaction with a large group of locals is obviously good for gaining intelligence information on Taliban movements, it leaves the commandos wide open to an attack.
I find myself acting as a look out while this takes place. On several occasions I have to shout at some young men to “stay back” while the meeting takes place.
One of the elderly members of the Afghan wedding party actually asks the marines to search his home for fear that if the Taliban discover that they did not search his property, they would believe he was helping us.
Usually this would result in the man being hanged – or indeed his children.
We move on and form up with various other elements of 42 Cdo providing fire support across a crop field.
The order is given to find high ground in which to look out across the plains.
Much to my displeasure we move forward taking up a position on top of an Afghan burial mound.
The position is a prime one and it is believed insurgents used the post as a firing point on our lads a few days ago.
There is also the very real possibility that insurgents have buried weapons at the site believing we would not enter the scared ground.
Rather than dig up graves, the marines scam them using metal detectors. No weapons are found and we soon move off to another compound.
As dusk falls some of the 42 Cdo lads light up fat cigars celebrating the end of a successful operation.
Once again we sleep under the stars. I’m exhausted. I’m just not used to the amount of stress and anxiety involved with such an operation.
But, I must say, it has been an absolutely awesome experience and one which I will never forget.
I have felt very privileged to be involved with the guys at this level and really begin to understand some of what they do.
Some might label the marines as being bloody thirsty but they’re simply not. They want the best for people and, as much as they will draw weapons when they have to, they are as keen to engage with communities and make them feel safe and secure.
We’re being taken out of the area by Chinook tomorrow morning early doors. Can’t say I’m unhappy at the prospect. Having worn the same clothes for the last five days without a shower I am in desperate need of some TLC.
Twitter: @tristan_nichols
