Risk and reward in a land of fantasies
IHAVE just come home after two weeks working in the Middle East. fantasised about Afghanistan as a kid, the same way I wished I would be whisked off to Hogwarts or that the back of my wardrobe would dissolve into Narnia.
So when the Australian Defence Force opened the door for a media embed, NT News photographic editor Michael Franchi and I jumped on it.
We trained for four days with about 40 newly deployed soldiers at Al Minhad Air Base in Dubai.
We learned how to treat a casualty in a simulated battlefield (including dragging a dead-weight dummy with its legs blown off to safety, putting on tourniquets and inserting a nasal tube), shoot a weapon on the training range (I won’t be joining the mafia), what to do in a rocket attack (drop to the ground and stay there for a bit even if the Romanians look at you funny) and what you probably shouldn’t take back to Australia (try telling a Customs official your double- edged dagger is ‘‘ a present, not a weapon’’ and see what happens).
We watched as an army boot was blown 100m through the air by a meagre amount of explosives during training about IEDs — a demo that makes you feel very mortal.
Franchi and I landed in Kabul on a C-130 Hercules.
The airport coalition base is home to thousands of beret- wearing soldiers — from Romania, Italy, Denmark, the Czech Republic, Germany, Britain, Australia (no berets), America, New Zealand and Croatia, just to name a few.
Local retailers sold Afghan blankets, lapis lazuli, ancient artefacts and war relics from the Soviet occupation at the base bazaar.
We had dinner at a famed Thai restaurant near the Aussie headquarters.
Sitting down in a cafe felt like a scene out of Pulp Fic
tion — black coffee and pistols — minus the robbery.
Big desert- style compounds sandbagged around the edges, a German sentry outside the odd building, armoured 4WDs, military tents, backpacker-like sleeping quarters and looming boundary walls covered in tangles of razor wire comprised the base. There was a relentless smell of sewage.
I was burning to get out and explore.
The mountains in the distance gathered more snow each day — one morning we watched dawn break just inside the wire. We weren’t allowed out.
The roads were code ‘‘black’’ in the wake of the country’s elders endorsing a pact that would let US and coalition troops stay in the country past 2014.
Brigadier Michael Mahy said: ‘‘This war is not over — Afghans don’t think it’s over. It’s just that our role has changed.’’
Australian soldiers are advising Afghan security forces to help make them independent and sustainable.
But the White House and Afghan President Hamid Karzai are still in a deadlock over the proposed security deal. Time will tell.
We interviewed two Aussie navy divers trained to deal with explosives, who have the grisly task of helping Afghan authorities gather forensic evidence to bring terrorist masterminds to justice in the wake of bombings.
Suicide vests filled with ball bearings and other devastating shrapnel are a huge problem.
The remains of the puppets who detonate them are blown about the streets.
Australian officials say an educated nation will be less susceptible to enemy insurgents’ influence — so Afghan National Army soldiers have literacy lessons in Dari and Pashto as part of their training at 205 Atul ‘‘Hero’’ Corps at Kandahar, in the country’s south, not far from a sprawl- ing desert airfield, known as KAF.
It was the last place under Taliban rule to fall.
Insurgents still sneak over the border from Pakistan.
The Aussie turf at Camp Baker bears a huge graffiti coat-of-arms bordered by two cobras and a row of skulls on an outside wall, and has the only grass in the region.
We were told: ‘‘This grass is like having a good-looking sister — all your mates want to come over.’’
They have barbies and Chinese nights.
The base is attacked by regular rocket fire and the threat of ‘‘green on blue’’ — a trusted Afghan soldier turning on coalition forces — is always there.
Just outside the wire we drank tea with Afghan army Major Abdul Basir at Camp Hero as he talked through the running of an artillery unit with Major Arlen Wendt, a Darwinbased soldier now working with the 205 Coalition Advisory Team.
At the Role Three Hospital on KAF, there was an unconscious man whose legs had been blown off.
I don’t know if he pulled through.
Nurses say many Afghans who have lost limbs are accepting of death and it’s heartbreaking.
Intensive care nurse Captain Paul Bell said: ‘‘Whether you believe in the war on terror or not, our troops are out there risking their lives.’’
You can’t argue with that. The man has cared for more mangled limbs and dying soldiers and civilians than anyone should have to see.
We peered into the world of the unmanned Heron spy aircraft. The ground operators — an ‘‘eclectic’’ crew from across the three defence forces — gather in a dorm to play Uno when they don’t have to be up at 3am.
The one thing I haven’t made peace with was being shut out of Tarin Kowt — a base 140km north of Kandahar.
The place has been etched into our history along with the 40 Australian Diggers killed in action in Afghanistan over the past 13 years.
I was told there was nothing to see, that those soldiers who were left guarding the desolate base were living in tents and eating ration packs, and it was bitterly cold. That’s why I wanted to experience it.
Despite the disappointment, we were in a unique position.
I might be stubborn and restless but I would never complain about coming home alive and with my limbs, when Australian families still grieve for those who have not.
The assignment was an incredible insight into military life.
It is restrictive and you sacrifice some personal space, sentiments the public affairs officer tasked with our safety had to reiterate to me.
People on the ground welcomed us, saying they wanted Australia to understand what they do in Afghanistan.
Some had opinions well out of line with Defence’s key messages. Opinions I won’t write here as I don’t want to see a soldier sacked for speaking freely.
I will say the ADF bureaucracy could benefit from the input of some who are silenced because they rub against the grain of the forces’ ideal public image.
Documenting the homecoming of about 20 Darwinbased soldiers who had been away for seven months was an awesome way to end the journey.
If the walls at Darwin airport could talk, they would tell the most heartwarming stories.
To have an opportunity like this at the age of 24 is humbling.
If the country ever becomes more stable, I will go back to explore the real Afghanistan.
I might be stubborn and restless but I would never complain about coming home alive and with my limbs, when Australian families still grieve for those who have not.