Taking on the Taliban

Sorry for the delay in getting this up online. You see due to operational security I couldn’t let on exactly what was coming up.

I don’t mean to sound funny, but when people’s lives are at risk it’s worth holding off mentioning anything controversial.

For the last six days I have been on a deliberate attack operation with the lads of 42 Commando storming into uncharted territory South West of Kandahar.

In deploying with them I became the first regional journalist to join them on an operation.

And while it was painful and emotional at times, which you will read, it was – as the marines say “hoofing”.

So while I’m now in the safe confines of Kandahar Air Base, I will look back at my diary notes to give you a glimpse of life on the very front of the frontline of this war in Afghanistan.

The prospect of taking on the Taliban in their own backyard was something the lads were seriously excited about.

Without meaning to make them out to be bloody thirsty, the marines have been complaining about a “lack of action” ever since I arrived in theatre.

In all fairness they’re trained to do a job and being stuck on camp is not something they enjoy. After all the months of training the last thing they want to do is travel all the way to Afghanistan and continue that training.

For me the prospect was exciting but nonetheless frightening.

Clearly fret with danger heading into the unknown, the hours before deployment dragged only reinforcing my fears.

By 1pm I had already packed my kit up.

By 1.30pm my kit had been unpacked by 42’s press officer, Lieutenant Alex Burlingham, who was adamant that it should be done his way to make essential pieces of kit easier to reach in the field.

We went through everything rearranging bits and pieces, and ditching a lot of the items I had packed.

The jovial mood in the camp was clearly reflected in a passing marine’s comments.

“guns and water,” he said

“That’s all you need mate,” laughing as he walked off.

My attention was then immediately brought back to the task in hand.

“Hopefully it won’t come to this but…” the unit press officer said as he passed me a bandage and emergency first aid kit.

Gulp.

With that I rolled a cigarette and told him to crack on with his admin duties while I contemplated any eventualities.

I wondered around camp until I found a piece of home in 42 Commando’s base at Camp Roberts - The Three Crowns.

Keen to instil some home comforts on camp, the lads have made a raised a sign above the tv room in tribute to the Barbican pub.

I snuck inside to find a space to write this blog and found myself watching Soccer AM on a widescreen television. This place continues to surprise me.

And the clock ticks away towards our operational deployment.