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A helicopter roars into FOB Jackson in Sangin, Afghanistan.  Medical tents are just next to the Helicopter Landing Site (HLS) so casualties can be quickly loaded.

05 August 2009

The helicopter pilot wearing night vision goggles roared in so fast it looked as though he were crashing.  The four green Cylums (Americans call them Chemlights) mark the HLS.  While the helicopter is above the dust cloud, it melts into the dark, but as it approaches the HLS, dust swirls high, setting the stage for an amazing light show.  The Chinook descends through the dry dust and the rotors glitter brightly, creating an eerie glow as if sparklers are attached to the rotors, which in reality appeared brighter to the eye than in the photo below.  If the helicopter were not so loud, the millions of static discharges might be heard crackling and popping.

Slow shutter speed causes moving helicopter to 'disappear' while the trace and sparks off the descending rotors is clear.  Heavy dust makes a sharp focus look blurred.  (ISO 1600, 50mm at f1.2, 3.2s.)

Dust begins to clear.  (ISO1600, f1.2, 2.5s.)

Air Cooler.

Daylight

While walking across FOB Jackson to find Nepalese Gurkhas, this air cooler caught the lens.   After sprinkling water on the straw, evaporation cools the air.  Construction of air coolers has been taught in military survival classes, yet like much of those classes, the field craft is just part of daily life around the world.  In India, many hotels will advertise they have “air conditioners” when actually the rooms often use various sorts of air coolers which—though better than languishing and sweating through nights of Indian summers—are not the air conditioners that many people expect.

Nepalese Gurkhas took me on a mission in Sangin.

Annual recruitment for the Gurkha regiment is brutal, and I asked about the different “selections” they underwent.  One Gurkha said his selection started with 26,000 applicants, though only about 200 were chosen for the Regiment.  I have trained with Gurkhas in Brunei, and been to Nepal many times, but this was my first mission with Gurkhas that included real bullets and real enemies.

Gurkhas serving in the British Army have been rotating through Afghanistan.  They can converse with many Afghans, at least on a basic level, by speaking Hindi.  The Gurkhas also look like many Afghans (especially Hazaras), and in fact many Filipinos, Thais, Nepalese and Hazaras look very similar.  As British soldiers, Gurkhas travel the world and see many things and they also live for years in the United Kingdom and Brunei.  They travel to Africa, Central America, Europe and often America.  Add to this fact that these men tend to come from remote, rugged villages where the terrain will match or possibly even exceed any of the severe difficulties found in Afghanistan, and the insight created from this confluence of experience can be invaluable.  Gurkha impressions of Afghanistan are of particular interest to me.

ANP: Afghan National Policeman (ANP).

The young Gurkhas at FOB Jackson are working as part of a PMT, or Police Mentoring Team.  When the Afghan policeman in the photo above showed up looking pregnant I asked, “Do you have baby?” and armed man lifted his shirt to show the magazines of ammunition.  Just why he was carrying the ammo under his shirt remains a mystery.  You never know what these guys will do next.  The Gurkhas have good words for the Afghan Army here at FOB Jackson, but are wary of the police, who they say are lazy, inept, and lack initiative and professionalism.  The Police Mentoring Team works to the intent of Captain Toby Woodbridge, whose assessment of the ANP introduces context that the ANA here had roughly three years head start on the ANP.   According to Captain Woodbridge, the ANP respond favorably to consistent, long-term training.  “There is clear evidence that when you provide the ANP with adequate training, you create the conditions for development of a professional, motivated security force.  These guys have a hard life and do a difficult, dangerous job.”

The pre-mission briefing, delivered by a Gurkha soldier, was identical to what one would expect from another British soldier, or an American infantryman, only it was delivered with a heavy Nepalese accent.  Each important detail of today’s mission had been discussed in advance. So we headed into the Sangin market along with several ANP.  There was a fair chance that we would get into some sort of fight.

As we move into a dangerous area, two Gurkhas with a spotless machine gun take a roof to cover our movement forward.

Having trained with Gurkhas for a month on Brunei and reading battle citations from their tours in Afghanistan, I was confident that if there were any dramas, the Gurkhas would hammer the Taliban flat.  The Gurkhas all seem to think that the Taliban are poor fighters, but Gurkhas say the home field is a crucial Taliban advantage.  Many Gurkhas say the Taliban often are brave, though they perceive Taliban in Sangin as cowards because they mostly only hide and plant bombs.  When the Taliban do stand and fight, the British soldiers tend to out-fight the Taliban and kill them.

The actual mission today for the Gurkhas (and a few Afghan police) was to escort other British soldiers who are administering development projects in Sangin.

School bombed by Taliban idiots.  Growing up, I was taught not to call people idiots, but as a writer it can be difficult to substitute the perfect word for a euphemism.  The Taliban are idiots.

Recently, the same Gurkhas were supposed to have come to this school for some business, yet they were distracted during the patrol and changed course.  At just the time the Gurkhas were supposed to be here, the Taliban detonated explosives in the school that the British had been constructing.  The hole in the floor by the wire is the seat of at least one blast.

Parked at front of school.

Most bombs around here are made from fertilizer, or what Brits and Americans call “HME”: Homemade Explosives.  A clever high school kid would have no problem making these bombs.  This is farmland, and weapons-grade fertilizer is sold just off base.  This enemy is not smart but the home field advantage is crucial, and as the saying goes, we have watches while they have time.  Yet context is crucial: large parts of Afghanistan are not so savage or beset with caveman mentalities.  The British like to say that Helmand Province is medieval, but I say the British give Helmand far too much credit.  Medieval is space-aged compared to some of these places.

Though again, context is crucial: cities like Jalalabad and Mazar-i-Sharif are good places to visit and far more advanced.  There are even—despite the war—pro-American sentiments among many people in Helmand (location is key) due to American development last century.  Many Afghans complain that the Kajaki Dam is not supplying massive amounts of power, forgetting the fact that Americans built the dam to begin with.   Nevertheless, Americans who helped develop Helmand many decades ago left positive feelings.

The Gurkhas and other British soldiers patrolled through the market in Sangin.  These sorts of metal lockboxes are commonly available in Afghanistan.

RPG strike on a guard position.  The RPGs are small, cheap and can defeat most vehicles other than our most heavily armored.  In the race between armor and bomb, the bomb eventually always wins.  This has been true for centuries and shows no signs of changing.  In the Sangin area, we are better on foot wearing only body armor.  British citizens today are concerned about the same things that Americans were concerned about during the early phases of the Iraq war: armor.  Fact is, we can drive down these roads in the best tanks in the world, and be blown upside-down on and set ablaze.  The enemy is increasingly good at blowing vehicles into ditches or rivers to drown the occupants.  They did this to the Soviets, too.  In many places, such as Sangin, the roads can be a death sentence no matter what you drive, and the enemy can seed IEDs far faster than we can clear the routes.

Pharmacy across from checkpoint where RPG struck.

Pharmacy in Sangin.  Chinese fans that break easily are luxury.  When they work.

Karzai’s picture seems omnipresent.

Typical market and motorcycles.

The scandal!  Music and videos hint that Mullah Omar’s influence has waned here.

Haircuts for sale.

More haircuts.

ANP post in Sangin.

The Gurkhas seem polite with the police but they don’t trust the ANP.  They say the ANP are corrupt and infiltrated.  One Gurkha told a story about an ANP who shot to death seven other police while they were sleeping, and then ran away.

Whatever the truth of this story, it did not happen in Sangin.  Nevertheless, U.S. troops have been killed by Afghan security forces.  Captain Toby Woodbridge said patrols with ANP create safer conditions for British soldiers.   As a third-party observer, I would agree with the assessment; ANP presence ultimately increases our security.  One goal, in any case, is that the ANP or ANA do all patrols without us.  Nothing here can be considered friendly.  However—again—the British give accolades to Afghan soldiers in Sangin, and to the progress of ANP.  “The progress in Sangin is genuine,” according to Captain Woodbridge.

There is no roof over our head because, according to the Gurkhas, the ANP stacked too many sandbags on the roof and it collapsed, nearly killing two policemen.  “Sandbag mistakes” have occurred among our own troops.  Cave-in’s occurred in Iraq, for instance.  In one case, an individual stacked sandbags on his roof, which caved in, caused an electrical fire and killed him.

Was this sign was posted for people in Washington, or for people in London?  If people like Robert Gates and David Petraeus were not running top-cover, I’d agree that it’s never too late to learn, and that it’s time to go home and let cavemen be cavemen.  But people like Secretary Gates and General Petraeus think we create some sort of success here, and I do, too, but only with sincere, strategic intergenerational commitment.  Ten years more will not do it.  Twenty years will not be enough.  A century is more realistic.  Knock on wood that Stanley McChrystal can pull a rabbit out of his hat during his command, and buy time for progress.

Corporal Chitra Thapa from Baglung, western Nepal, led the patrol.  Chitra is with 1 Royal Gurkha Rifles (1 RGR).  For years now, I’ve asked Gurkhas why they don’t join the U.S. military.  But the Gurkhas like to keep their own units and so are not apt to split off alone.  They respect the U.S. military, but unfortunately will not join.  Some people call them “mercenaries,” but Gurkhas don’t fit that definition in my book.  If Gurkhas were true mercenaries, they might join any band that would pay.  But they regularly join the relatively poorly paid Indian Army and don’t join the U.S. military despite the incredible benefits and their positive views of America.  Gurkhas are not “mercenaries” as we use the term, but professional soldiers who don’t seem to like going to war.  But when they do…watch out.

Sangin bazaar.

The intelligence section here at FOB Jackson says that since this 2 Rifles tour began in April 2009, tips from locals have been steady with no remarkable increase or decrease in information flow.  Information flow from civilians is a crucial indicator and was my first big tip-off during the dangerous summer of the 2007 that the Surge in Iraq was working.  Even as our casualties were dramatically increasing during the Surge and up to mid-2007, cooperation from Iraqis also dramatically increased.

Here in Sangin, there are conflicting lines of information that would indicate we are gaining or losing ground.  Cooperation from locals—a crucial indicator—would indicate we are treading water.

Some attacks are thwarted by tip-offs, which often, or typically, result from immediate self-interests, such as the case where bombs are planted among a farmer’s crops.  Whereas earlier the bombs were planted on obvious channels such as roads, bridges and paths, last week a soldier was severely wounded by an IED in the middle of a field.  I watched from base as another three IEDs detonated in the vicinity.  Luckily those were without effect.  There were many factors that led to the avalanche-like turnaround in Iraq, and one of the key factors was troop strength and constant presence in the neighborhoods.  Many Iraqis and Afghans were/are betting on what they perceive to be the winning side—no matter if they like that side or not.

Local cooperation seems based on immediate self-interests, not long-term ideological visions, though, clearly, long-term ideological visions are hallmark for the fundamentalists.  We will know that we are winning—definitely winning—when we see a remarkable increase in population-generated information and cooperation.

Sangin Market: tons of fertilizer flows into Sangin.  These fertilizers are as good for making bombs as for growing corn and drugs.

Walking through the streets, one sees enough fertilizers to flatten a strong and very large building.  The local bomb-makers often use pressure cookers as the Maoists did in Nepal.  In fact, the Nepalese government began confiscating pressure cookers, leading even more people to sympathize with Maoists who used them for small bombs.  Our forces spent considerable effort intercepting fertilizer coming into Iraq—I was on some of those missions—yet here the bomb-making materials are all available within a couple minutes from the base.

The market.  Sangin is massive opium producer but this year’s crop is already in, and the corn and other crops are growing.  Tall corn is easy for the enemy to hide in, so the British help farmers closer to base grow short crops, such as beans.

Sangin market.

The “G Factor”:  Rfn Manish Archarya, from Dharan in eastern Nepal, steps across the block to keep his boots dry.  Some Gurkhas will slog through water or mud, but most use stepping stones or logs.  Other British soldiers smile and call such differences “The G Factor.”  During tracking school in Brunei, this clue indicated whether we were tracking Gurkhas or someone else.  The Gurkhas would parallel a stream looking for a log or other place to cross, while other British soldiers would splash straight through.

It is not well known that the Sultan of Brunei quietly supports our efforts in Afghanistan.  And the Sultan so likes the Gurkhas and British Army stationed in Brunei, that he pays the expenses for the British to keep the Gurkhas stationed there.  (As I write these words from a hot building on FOB Jackson, an uncouth ANP with radio in hand and pistol on right hip, just spat upon the floor as if we are in the middle of the desert.)

Front L to R: CPL Chris Bannon; Rfn Carl Dresser (facing away); 1LT Mark Cripps; SGT Rob Grimes; Rfn Liam Martin; Rfn Dean.  Back L to R: CPL Kenneth Copeland; Rfn Gatting (facing away); CPL Ryan (Ginge) Hone; Rfn Farrah.

The day was 30 July 2009, and the hot mission with the Gurkhas ended and we returned to base, and there was 2 Platoon from A Company, 2 Rifles, prepping for a mission during which they would be hit.  Morale of 2 Platoon is strong and they retain their sense of humor despite much fighting.   1LT Mark Cripps and SGT Rob Grimes were inspecting gear and weapons.

During this mission, 2 Platoon would be hit, but none of us knew this yet.   After the hot patrol with Gurkhas I trudged down to the river, completely dressed, boots and all, and jumped in.

SSG Justin Fitzsimmons, wearing uniform, who had also been on the Gurkha patrol, beat me to the river.  Justin had been out to inspect the school that had been damaged by the bomb, and three ANP checkpoints that need work.  Rifleman James Tong also was cooling down.

Lieutenant Hannah Keenan hits the creek.

A bomb detonated and rattled over base.  2 Platoon, who had been inspecting gear and weapons, had rolled onto a mission and gotten hit.  There were two big fertilizer (believed) bombs in an open field, and both detonated at once, severely wounding a young soldier.  2 Platoon had been keeping their intervals or it would likely have been far worse.  QRF (Quick Reaction Force) was “instant on” and began to assemble within a couple of minutes, and within maybe five minutes they seemed ready to dive into the thick of it.   Everyone knew they likely would also be hit.  Were it not for such young soldiers, we would be at the mercy of every demon.

And then another bomb detonated and the mushroom rolled away and I wondered how our friends were doing.  And then another bomb.  And another.   Four separate attacks.

I crossed the river and climbed up to the guard post which was bristling with more weapons than one might imagine, and I climbed the homemade ladder to the fourth floor, the top.  There, with three British soldiers, all calmly taking in the situation amid terse radio chatter, I peered through the CLU of a Javelin missile.  (No Javelin was attached).  The CLU, or Command Launch Unit, is an excellent optic, and there about 2kms distant, orange smoke wafted above the trees, as the call came that the British MERT helicopter (Medical Evacuation Response Team) was nearly on scene from Bastion.  I asked a British soldier on the radio why they popped orange at the landing zone; was the LZ hot?  Why didn’t they pop something else, like green or white?  The Chinook roared over the smoke, low and at a high rate of speed, and headed straight for what appeared to be about 5km before it banked right and came back.  I tracked the helicopter through the CLU, and on the way back another orange smoke popped, but this time the Chinook took a neck-breaking right U-turn and swooped in with far more agility than one might expect from such a large helicopter.   Through the CLU, white smoke could be see wafting above the trees, and the Chinook came down and I could see the ramp was open, and then the MERT roared away with the badly wounded soldier to the trauma center at Camp Bastion.  A soldier later mentioned that the wounded man was at the trauma center 53 minutes after the first attack.  Every soldier knows that if they can get you on that helicopter alive, you’ll probably survive.

That night and the next night I had dinner with the Gurkhas.  They had picked up a goat from the market, and also some Pakistani rice, which they say is better than Nepalese rice but more expensive.  Rifleman Santosh Sherestha, from Bhojpur in eastern Nepal, stayed over the fire cooking the goat while Nepalese music played in the background.

The cookhouse reminded me of Nepal.

Rfn Sanjay Limbu Dharan came in to help with the cooking.  Sanjay is from eastern Nepal about two days’ walk from Mt. Everest (that would be about 3-4 days walk for normal, fit people).  I walked three weeks one time to Everest base camp; the Taliban have nothing on the Gurkhas and their mountains.  Adventurous souls who want to know what the terrain is like where many of our people fight in Afghanistan might consider trekking for a month in Nepal.  The mountains are not friendly, but the people are.  After a month deep in the Himalayas, there will have been time to reflect on why we need either another couple hundred thousand more soldiers, or at least understand why more helicopters are crucial.

Before dinner, Corporal Chitra Thapa disseminates important information, warning for instance that nearby FOB Inkerman got hit with IDF (apparently rocket or mortar).  The Gurkha way is usually supportive, not condescending, and Chitra congratulates other Gurkhas for doing some daily tasks such as keeping the combat gear ready, and the weapons spotless.  There is more gunfire on the perimeter but it’s so common that nobody thinks much of it, except that we are about a 30-second walk from the gate where “Terry” (the Taliban) might like to come in.

Someone on the perimeter fires a small parachute illumination which drifts down under the moon.

And floats away.

The men want to know about the American soldier who was captured but I know very little and will not write about anything I would know.  A Gurkha said that he read that the American prisoner is 27 years old and asked if I think we will get back our soldier, and I say that I pray for him and that we have good people who specialize in such things.  Even the stoic Gurkhas want to know how Americans have been able to serve back-to-back combat tours, some as long as 15 months, and I recount the story of a soldier named Jeff who did nearly three years straight in Iraq, and that he was very high-ranking and never had to go to combat but he went to combat constantly.  And I say to the Gurkhas that our young soldiers keeping going because old soldiers lead the way.

The war goes on.  In the morning I ask LT Cripps, and then later SGT Grimes, the same question.  I asked how the men are doing after the latest casualty, and their answers are frank and similar; some of the younger soldiers are shaken, especially the closest buddy of the stricken soldier.  But they are absorbing this punch and are ready for the next mission, and I offer to go with them.  LT Mark Cripps singles out the medic, Beth Sparks, for special praise, saying she is always there in the mess, and had treated the badly wounded soldier the day before.

And that’s about it for some common scenes and thoughts from a common night and day.  There were casualties and firefights again yesterday.  2nd Platoon has been out all night on another combat mission and they are still out, probably giving the local Taliban a big headache.  There was a large explosion about twenty minutes ago.


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Posted Aug 04 2009, 08:01 PM by Michael Yon - Online Magazine
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