Parting

Parting from ones loved ones at the beginning of a deployment is difficult, and leaving to head out here to Afghanistan was no different.

My final few days had been spent packing, repacking, sorting out last areas of administration related to both the deployment and domestic issues at home. There were inevitably a few challenging moments for both of us through the time. There is a degree of guilt about going away for six months, and feeling enthusiastic about it. There were a couple of ”why the hell did I volunteer for this” moments and I was very glad to have her support. It’s a maelstrom of emotions, and I had to be conscious that I wasn’t the only one going through them.

The biggest issue for others, my partner and family, is that they have a quite different perception of the risks that I’m about to face. From the training I’m very comfortable that I understand what the threats are, and how to deal with them. Others have only my, limited, descriptions and what they read in the print media and see on the TV. I can understand why they hold their view, and can’t deny that there are risks.

So parting on the morning of my flight was difficult. We checked in my hold bags and rifle and then drove back to the main gate where we said farewell to one another. The plod back to the terminal building was difficult, the air was crisp as I made my way back in the darkness. Past the ranks of C17 and VC10 transports, each with a frosted coating in the pale yellow of the lighting on the apron. All key components of the supply chain that gets essential people and equipment out to theatre, and brings people back, for a range of reasons. Conceivably one of those is about to take my predecessor back to the UK, part of the cycle that maintains the UK presence in Afghanistan. They also support Brunei, Iraq, the Falkland Islands, Diego Garcia and others.

It wasn’t a long walk, about 10 minutes as I was taking my time, reflecting on what was to come, and what I was leaving.

The time in the terminal building was odd, the perception that most people have of journeys out is driven by documentaries and news reports that concentrate on formed units. Within a unit people have well established relationships, they travel with friends and colleagues that they’ve known and trained with. As an individual augmentee it’s a bit different. I looked around, not knowing anyone else I could see, but aware that there were two formed units and feeling that there was something missing. A slightly lonely moment. On the flight it was little better, some polite conversation with neighbours, comparing projected return dates and end destinations.

The flight was pretty smooth, and the cabin crew were very professional. Everyone that talks about flying in to theatre mentions the last few minutes of the flight. Everyone dons body armour and helmets, and the internal lighting is switched off. Sitting in the dark, wearing the protective equipment and knowing that one is about to land in a hostile environment its quite a telling time. The mood changed, some had done this several times and were clearly familiar with the routine, others were quiet and tense. I was in the latter category, conscious of that tension and aware of every move the aircraft made.

So I arrived, and now I’m in theatre. Exciting times, I have an interesting and challenging job, I get some travel around the country.

Departure

By the time this is published I’ll be on my way to Afghanistan. It feels as if it’s been a while coming, although I was doing my civilian job just 7 weeks ago, project manager of an IT investment for a client.

There is inevitably some trepidation. When I was in the regular Royal Navy I spent a reasonable amount of time away, but leaving in a ship is quite a different prospect. When the ship lets go, and we leave the wall at the beginning of a deployment there have been 250, 500 or even 1200 others doing the same thing. This time I’ll be amongst a plane-load of people all going to do different things once we get to theatre.

It’ll take me several days to arrive at my final destination, and I know I’ve only got three days there before I fly elsewhere for a brief period. On the way I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to meet up with some friends that are currently in Afghanistan.

The anticipation, and eagerness, is something that I think many civilians don’t appreciate. Over the last few days I’ve had lots of instances of that, including from colleagues at my civilian job. On the other hand servicemen saying that they’d love the opportunity to go back.

I’ll miss my partner a lot, but she appreciates that I’m doing something I want to do.

So I’ll see you on the other side…

The kit issue

It feels as if I’ve been issued an inordinate amount of kit in the last few weeks. MoD changed the policy a few years ago so that everyone deploying gets a complete new kit issue, as appropriate to their operational theatre and role. Individuals may choose to only take a partial issue, if they’ve deployed recently or don’t need any elements of the scale, but it’s available to them. This means that there is no excuse for not having the correct kit in theatre.

The “black bag” is worth in the region of £3000 per person, clearly with the most kit going to the Category 3 personnel; Infantry, Royal Marines and those that patrol with them.

I’m in the process of packing mine at the moment and I’ve been struck by the advances in kit that we’ve made in the last few years. When I joined in the early ’90s much of the field kit was ill-fitting, heavy, dubious quality and pretty inappropriate. Almost everything now has a clear practical use, and is pretty decent quality. Much of it is branded gear that a serious outdoor sports-person would consider.

Two things really stand out:

• Boots – These are critical, really for everyone in theatre. We now get the choice of three types of boot, each appropriate to a slightly different type of use. they are branded, and manufactured by big names in the industry, that in the past many have privately purchased anyway. Good foot care is really important in theatre, and it’s made much easier with the boots that I’ve been issued.
• Clothing – It now fits much better, and it dries out very quickly. I found on training that despite being saturated at the end of a serial my trousers would dry to damp pretty quickly, and wind chill wasn’t too much of an issue. In the past comparable trousers would have stayed wet for the rest of the day, adding a considerable amount of weight to my clothing. We’ve even been issued with underwear that is treated to improve its ability to stay hygenic over a couple of days. Clearly it’s preferable to change, but where that’s not a viable option at least there is less risk of nasty skin infections.
• Personal equipment – We’ve been issued torch, multi-tool, thermal mug, ear protection, eye protection and mosquito nets, all of which in the past would have been private purchases. All items that just make getting on with the job easier. Clearly a lot of thought has gone into the contents of the bag, and the team have taken feedback.

Inevitably there are some niggles, the daysac is good if one is wearing it with pouches on the body armour. The design is less good for use without body armour, and without pouches as it has no internal waist belt. I’ll probably get myself a different one at the US store in theatre.

Of course I’ve now packed the majority, only my daysac remains as I’ll have that as cabin baggage on the flight. There is a lot of it, and I’m hoping I won’t have to re-arrange bags when I get to Brize Norton. Packing for six months away certainly focuses the mind.

I’m now very keen to get out there and start cracking on with my job. Not long now…

Watching through the sights

The L85A2 Individual Weapon System, more commonly known as the SA80 rifle, is fitted with one of two types of sight.  The majority of Naval use is of the so-called Iron Sight, essentially fixed aiming markers on above the handgrip and near the muzzle.  They’re well suited to the type of use that we make of them in ships and submarines.  The optical sight, or SUSAT, is used by a small number of people, mainly marksmen in ships.

The SUSAT is used by the majority of the Army, and given the situation in Afghanistan everyone going out has to train  on it.  I’ve used a SUSAT in the past, I represented the RN in competitive shooting in the UK and internationally, so it wasn’t difficult for me to get back into the swing of using it.  It provides a four times magnification, which helps when using the rifle at ranges in the order of 300 metres or more.  The sight picture is very clear, and at 300 metres I can pretty clearly make out my target.

In training we fire on aluminium or wooden targets with a facsimile of a soldier on them, these are roughly man-sized, but they don’t move and the best that’ll happen is that they fall when the round hits them.

During training last week we were practicing foot patrol contact drills.  Acting as section commander I was second in the order of march when we had the attack.  As I hit the deck and looked through the sight to return fire on the ”enemy”, a member of the training staff in a Shalwar Kameez, I was suddenly struck by the realisation that this was the first time that I’d intentionally pull the trigger with a real person in the sight.  It brought a very brief moment of reflection before I started pulling the trigger, aiming to hit him square in the chest.

Naturally every man and woman in the three services will have thought about, and discussed, the responsibility of killing another person.  There is a moral component to what we do, and the discussion has to take place.  In the maritime domain it is slightly abstract, lives will be lost as a result of our fire, but it’s at a distance, and mediated by our combat systems much of the time.  The view through the sight of another human being, in this case a young sailor in his early 20s, put a very different complexion on the issue.

From an intellectual and philosophical perspective I’m satisfied that I’m capable of pulling the trigger when I need to.  When we develop an appreciation for what motivates those who oppose our actions we can better position our responses.  By studying our opponent I’ve understood why I’m prepared to pull the trigger.   From a more emotional perspective I’m less sure, pulling the trigger with the intent to take the life of another is a significant act, and one not to be taken lightly.

I am comfortable that the training will kick in when it needs to, as it has in the past.  That’s why we train, so that the responses become ingrained.  Once we’re satisfied that our actions are appropriate we can allow ourselves to live in the moment.  As a Buddhist that strikes me as a balanced approach.

Of course if some insurgent is shooting at me, I’ll shoot back!

Consolidation

Connectivity was pretty bad last week, we were in an army training camp in Hampshire practicing a number of the skills and capabilities that we’d been discussing in theory. So it was lots of infantry drills, vehicle drills and using the kit that the patrols use on a day to day basis. On this Pre-Deployment Training we’re not being trained to patrol, but to ensure that we’re not a liability to our peers and colleagues when we’re outside the wire.

It gave me an opportunity to really consolidate things, as well as demonstrate that my fitness is up to scratch, something that had worried me before the mobilisation itself. It was completely different to my civilian role, and indeed my role in the last few years of my regular uniformed career. Moving around the training ground at a reasonable pace, loaded up with a significant amount of kit, we worked through drills on foot, in vehicles, and a lot of time on how to engage with the Afghan population.

With the nature of the roles that UK forces are fulfilling at the moment the ability to engage with the local population is key. We’re patrolling alongside Afghan Army and Police, developing their capabilities and we’re in amongst the population. Patrol Bases are part of the landscape, and even in main bases we’re employing locals for a wide range of tasks. Everyone in the force has to be able to use some Pashtu or Dari, remain sensitive to the culture and deliver on their own responsibilities.

The final exercise crossed into Remembrance Day, and we took a short pause at 1100 . The weather had been foul for most of the week, so we were soaked, covered in mud and sand, tired and under a reasonable amount of stress. All of the training stopped a couple of minutes before 1100, and the start of the silence was signalled using the klaxon. For me it reinforced the fact that whilst the act of Remembrance as we know it now dates from the First World War we reflect on lives lost throughout our history, right up to our current operations in Afghanistan, Iraq and elsewhere. Looking around the compound I’m pretty sure that I wasn’t the only one feeling the mood quite intensely.

I certainly slept well after the final exercise finished.

So the training has left me feeling a lot more confident, I’m not going to be a liability and if things get messy I’m not going to be the cause of someone else getting injured.

The whole thing has also given me a lot of confidence in my kit, it’s far superior to what I was issued when I first joined the service. Clothing dried in a reasonable time, it was warm and it fitted. More on kit in another post I think.

So now, a few meetings, admin and preparing my kit for the flight. I’m now really looking forward to getting out there, and getting on with the job.

So training continues

We finished the rifle course on Friday, and the general consensus was that the time gave everyone a chance to feel very comfortable with the weapons.

Personally I was pleased, I got the best result of the course during the test shoot, qualifying as a Naval Marksman and achieving the maximum possible score. The more important thing was that I got familiar with the rifle again after a long period of not handling one. I was pleased with how easily it came back, a bit like riding a bike, as they say.

Not everyone going on to theatre will use a rifle as a matter of course. Some will get to an Operating Base, hand it in and only draw it for routine cleaning. But they might have to use it, and it’s now up to them to stay familiar. Others will use theirs every day, although they’re less likely to be Royal Navy.

A significant minority will use their rifles regularly. We’ll have regular reasons to be outside the main bases, we’ll be in road moves, in flights and sometimes on foot. Trusting ones own weapon skill is an important part of the preparedness for that. Our training staff were spot on in getting us to the right level, and I made the time to thank each of them for their coaching through the two weeks.

Today I’ve embarked on the next block, Individual Pre Deployment Training. Each service runs IPDT for it’s own people, reflecting our different backgrounds. The RN Mounting Centre in Portsmouth trains about 1200 RN for Afghanistan and Iraq per year. Medics and Aviators make up the bulk of that number, but the other 40% are going to a range of jobs; communications, logistics, planning, legal and security for example.

It’s a busy week, some lectures, some practical training on the ranges, battlefield casualty handling and more lectures. All essential.

Some things bring the picture into sharper relief. I was introduced to the rifle I’ll have on Afghanistan today. I was handed a bag with magazines and rifle cleaning kit. We have an opportunity to update our wills should we need it, and there are examples of families suffering now because that wasn’t done.

The effect of all of this can rapidly become a focus on the risks. But we can’t let that dominate us. We need to recognise that the risks are mitigated as much as possible. It’s important to make the most of opportunities to spend time with loved ones, those who’ll be left whilst we’re away, and be realistic with them.

Certain phrases have become like a mantra, and brief moments become very special. It’s not always easy to express that though.

Missing Things

I finished my rifle course yesterday, and now have around three weeks
until I fly out to Afghanistan. I’ve spent some time this morning
sorting out some admin points with my kit, and then jumped onto my
motorbike to take a run in to town. I have a few things to get, like
enough shower gel and toothpaste for the next couple of months, chain
for my dogtags, boot polish and the like.

I was reminded of things I’ll miss whilst I’m away. Not least my
partner, who is a great support to me and I will find it a challenge
to be away from.

What prompted the thought was the grin after accelerating the bike,
feeling her push against me as we went from walking pace to 70mph in a
few car lengths. Feeling her drop into a left hand bend, rock solid
as I pulled back with my right hand on the steering.

I’ll miss sitting in a coffee shop, as I am now, enjoying a few
moments in the bustle of a busy high street. Seeing people taking a
break in their day, relaxed, safe and moderately free. It’s an
interesting comparison with where I’ll be shortly, and adds a mildly
sombre counterpoint to my mood.

Next for me is a visit to the bookshop. Twenty years experience in
the military leaves me confident that there will be a lot of sitting
around, waiting. So I’ll pick up some books that I’ve been wanting to
read. Mainly politics, some regional history, some lightweight
fiction. I will miss browsing in bookshops.

Anyway, I can’t sit here all day, I have some fun waiting for me in
the bike park.