"Self portraits are a way of revealing something about oneself."- Eric Kandel
In 2007 I was a captain in the Royal Artillery sent to Germany having recently completed a deployment to Kabul, the capital of Afghanistan, as a Farsi speaking military interpreter. I was posted to C Battery, a Close Support sub unit of 3rd Regiment Royal Horse Artillery (3RHA), located in Hohne, and part of 7th Armoured Brigade aka the “Desert Rats”. I was trained as a Fire Support Team (FST) Commander and spent the majority of the year away from barracks undergoing training and honing the skills involved; so much so that for the calendar year of 2007 I spent less than a month in barracks. Due to leave the Army in December of that year I was asked to extend my commission to deploy to Afghanistan in the summer of 2008 on Op HERRICK VIII. I agreed on the proviso I could deploy with my team with whom I had been training. By now I had served for six years and already completed three operational tours but had never fired my rifle or encountered any trouble. It took me two attempts to sign the extension; having already been to Afghanistan, did I want to put myself in harm’s way? Eventually signing, my rationale for returning was to get off the subs bench and finally be able put my training to use.
Having signed on the dotted line, the promise made to me was reneged and my role and team handed to more junior officer to further their career. I would instead deploy to Helmand Province, as part of the Close Support Operational Mentoring and Liaison Team (CS OMLT) to assist the Afghan National Army (ANA). I was attached to the Royal Irish Regiment (R IRISH) who were the OMLT lead supporting 16 Air Assault Brigade of Parachute Regiment fame.
During this operational tour of duty I decided to take a daily selfie to capture my fourth and final deployment in the British Army. I wanted to document the variety of roles, locations and, above all, emotions that I knew would be experienced whilst on operations.
I'm so excited
Goodbye Germany,Hello Afghanistan
I left my barracks in Hohne, Germany, in the snow at 4am in the morning, first travelling to South Cerney in the UK, before flying onwards to Afghanistan and Camp BASTION in Helmand province. All new arrivals to the theatre of operations had to complete the mandatory Reception, Staging and Onward Integration (RSOI) package including rifle zeroing and I was no exception. Having expected to stay in BASTION I was surprised to have to relocate; the ANA and OMLT had their own base outside the BASTION perimeter in an adjacent location called Camp SHORABAK, also known as Camp TOMBSTONE by the Americans who had a presence there.
With experience of travel and accommodation logistics, from my 2006 deployment, I was tasked to arrange and accompany an ANA major from Camp SHORABAK to his home town of Kabul. Flying via Kandahar Airfield (KAF) he stepped off the plane in Kabul, gave me a wave, and disappeared into the night. I stayed overnight at Kabul International Airport (KAIA) before finding my way back to Helmand via the joint Italian/ Spanish Camp ARENA located in Herat. I was familiar with both locations; I had spent several months based in Camp ARENA working with Italian forces and had spent the my birthday at KAIA waiting to leave Afghanistan at the end of my previous tour.
Roam
Getting the air miles in
What a feeling
Prior preparation... no, not today thanks
My next task was to command a vehicle convoy from Camp SHORABAK to the town of Gereshk. Travel by road during the day was deemed high risk, so the journey was to be undertaken at night with headlights off using Night Vision Goggles (NVGs). The move was the first time both anyone in the unit had driven the route and that we had used NVGs. Unaccustomed to NVGs my driver had trouble gauging speed and we hit a pot hole, going to fast for comfort, 1km from SHORABAK on the way to the main road, irreparably damaging the axle. This selfie was taken in the back of the pick up vehicle after a two hour wait to be recovered; needless to say we did not make it to Gereshk.
Big gun
D- 30 artillery range day
03 April was the only occasion during Op HERRICK VIII the ANA fired their D- 30 howitzers; just days later we all rerolled from artillery personnel to boots on the ground as extra infantiers. Note the Mr T “I pity the fool!” patch; I had picked it, and others, up on my recent travels and was to wear them throughout the tour. My tour wardrobe also included a Hooters baseball cap which I had bought at the Mall of America, Minnesota, USA on the way to pre deployment training in Arizona (although I had been allocated to OMLT, I had also competed artillery training should I be required to call in fire).
It's my life
Joint patrols
Six people strong was the minimum British Army size squad allowed to deploy outside of a base. As an OMLT of one person I was, essentially, incapable of doing anything without help or support from other British units; I was reliant on joint ANA/ British Army patrols to leave the confines of the MOB and see or work with my Afghan soldiers.
Love is the drug
Opium and body armour
The OMLT position in Lashkar Gah included responsibility of an ISO shipping container in which £2.3million of opium (wet and dry bricks) and refined heroin was stored while the MOB incinerator was being fixed. My back of the fag packet calculations returned an estimate that were I seek the new profession of an international drugs dealer I would require closer to £20million to make the career jump worthwhile. However I had a more immediate concern than planning my post military career; the storing of my body armour near the drugs meant the armour started to smell of opium and I suffered from headaches every time I wore it; even soldiers I was patrolling with started to comment on the ghastly fish smell (shortly after the drugs were destroyed I replaced the body armour with a new set).
The boys of summer
Battlefield tourism
Qala- e- Bost is a fortress built over 3,000 years ago into a hill located near the convergence of the Helmand and Arghandab rivers. This was one of the few battlefield tourist spots I managed to visit during my summers in Afghanistan; the other being the Bagh-e Babur, a historic park in Kabul where the tomb of the first Mughal emperor Babur is located.
In-between days
Groundhog day
By now time was starting to lose meaning as the days merged from one day to the next and each patrol started to feel the same. On tour there are no days off, you do not stop at weekends; you are on the clock 24/7 from the day you arrive until the day you leave. However 8th May was memorable in so far that I went on patrol while starting to feeling the onset of diarrhoea and vomiting (D&V). In hindsight I should not have left the MOB as I barely made it through the morning. On return to the MOB I stumbled into the med centre, where I stayed for two days. In my haste I had forgotten to inform anyone of my actions; apart from the med centre, no one knew where I was for the two days it took to recover.
Don't you forget about me
Care package
Amongst the monotony of deployment odd moments, like a care package containing random items like a small wooden spoon, would lift spirits.
Mad world
Trip that ambush
We were tasked with reconnoitering the Marjah area and, in particular, the routes in and out of it. While completing the recce, we were informed that Enemy Forces (EF) had watched, predicted our route and had set an ambush for us. We were instructed to drive into the ambush and deliberately trip it. It was only due to a vehicle in the convoy suffering malfunction that this plan was abandoned; much to my relief. I thought the idea of wilfully driving into an ambush to be certifiable. On return to base we were told the EF, bored of waiting for us, had attacked a police station for 20 hours.
Beat it
Enough is enough
My patience at following guidelines of not travelling or patrolling with the ANA due to being a single British soldier OMLT finally snapped. I was a captain on my fourth tour but the guidelines meant I had little to responsibility or decision making powers as I was, essentially, a passenger with British Army patrols being commanded and led by an officer junior to me; being on the sidelines was never my forte.
By now the ANA were friends and I fully trusted them, so I made the decision to ignore the rules and integrated myself into the ANA patrols.
Sign of the times
Direction change!
As we drove out the gate at MOB LASHKAR GAH to go on patrol we were redirected from our planned tasking to engage with an attack occurring elsewhere in our Area of Responsibility (AO). I thought, ‘I have volunteered for this, I’ll finally fire my rifle… what on Earth am I doing driving towards danger? How have I put myself in this position?’ After driving 30 minutes to reach our location we were informed we had reached the limit of our AO and that the fight, which had moved out of our AO, was now someone else’s responsibility. As we waited at a police station on the chance the contact changed direction, the half of my ANA unit not on the joint patrol drove past the location speeding towards the attack we were unauthorised to join. We waited but attack did not come back in our direction; we returned to MOB LASHKAR GAH.
Emotions that morning ran the gauntlet from mundane as we had started the patrol, to exhilaration and fear as we had been rerouted, to nervous calm at the police station, to disappointment and helplessness at watching my Afghan friends drive past and not being able to support them.
Just another manic Monday
R&R countdown
By now I was counting down days until I returned to the UK for my two weeks Rest & Recuperation (R&R). It was during this period when, on patrol with the ANA, I had the worst cup of tea in my life where a lead lined ammunition box had been used as a make shift kettle to boil water. I could never fault the ingenuity of my ANA, but one sip of this brew was enough for me.
The power of love
Back for a short time,not a long time
My plans for R&R revolved around attending a wedding in Wales of friends I had first met two years before on R&R during my first tour of Afghanistan. I had pre- planned the event with my No1 dress ‘blues’ with accoutrements waiting for me in London. I landed on Thursday, and travelled to Dolgellau from London on Friday for the Saturday wedding, returning to the Big Smoke on Sunday.
Should I stay or should I go?
Round 2! Ding! Ding!
I knew I would not be returning to MOB LASHKAR GAH for the second half of my tour but unbeknownst to me I had no idea how unsettled the next few months would be.
Hells bells
Welcome to Gereshk
I was initially sent to Forward Operating Base (FOB) GERESHK, located in the middle of the town after which the FOB had been named. My second night was marked both by listening to a firefight start somewhere in the city, gradually work it’s way towards the FOB and the fact my Lashkar Gah ANA unit arrived at the base. I recall sending radio updates of the situation and catching panic in my voice whilst waiting for the base to be enveloped by gunfire; something which never happened. The attack stopped 100m away from the FOB gates and then reversed direction and disappeared. We never found out who was involved or what happened that night. As for my ANA friends; they left the next day and I never saw them again.
I love rock and roll
Pencil pusher
After two days at FOB GERESHK, I found myself sent to the Danish run FOB PRICE, based on the outskirts of Gersehk to run the OMLT Operations Room. The major I was replacing was leaving Afghanistan to go on his R&R and was busy packing; there was no handover/ takeover. With next to no notice I found myself chained to a desk.
My fitness fell off a cliff as I acclimatised to the air conditioning in the Operations Room. In an effort to stay fit I would undertake fitness sessions in my body armour during my lunch break, at the height of the noon sun, if time permitted. I also tried going to the gym in the evenings but more than once found myself called back to deal with emergencies. A highlight of my time at PRICE was a concert by the Danish rock band Decco who visited to entertain the troops.
Winds of change
Overqualified
A planning tool I was trained to use involved a series of questions which included Question 5: Has the situation changed? Yes, and then some. An additional British infantry regiment, the 2nd Battalion Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment (2PWRR) was being deployed to Afghanistan to bolster numbers, and they required artillery support. This meant the artillery elements of my OMLT, including the FOB PRICE Operations Room staff and myself, would leave the OMLT and revert to artillery duties. The Close Support OMLT would now be commanded by the Oregon National Guard. In practical terms I would help escort the National Guard as they conducted a tour of their AO and visited all the Patrol Bases (PBs) they were now responsible for. I would then travel to Camp BASTION for onwards staging and (artillery) tasking. For two weeks I had the duties and responsibilities of a soldier; this is not what I had signed up for.
Patience
Combat indicators
One of the longer days of my grand tour around Helmand involved visiting PB ATTAL, located in the Nahri Saraj District between Lashkar Gah and Gereshk. Having conducted a foot patrol around the AO, the PB was put on immediate alert and ‘stood to’; locals had been seen leaving the nearby village which was the combat indicator that EF had arrived and were itching for a fight. I picked a spot on the roof and waited. And waited. And waited. Having become nervous in anticipation of combat multiple times during the summer I was, on this occasion at least, bored of the threat of action. Gently Jury, needless to say, nothing happened and after waiting two hours I accompanied the National Guard back to FOB PRICE.
Try walking in my shoes
I just can not wait to leave the army
At the end of July I left the OMLT and made my way to Camp BASTION to integrate myself with 7th Parachute Regiment, Royal Horse Artillery, the artillery lead of 16 Air Assault Brigade, waiting for orders to join 2PWRR. Whilst there I met my new Battery Commander (BC), my eighth line manager in four years of working at a regiment. It was not the best first interview with a new boss. A career officer (he is now a General) with an eye firmly on the promotional ladder I, as a captain about to leave the army, was a speed bump to roll over. I had arrived a month later than expected to Afghanistan and was was legally obliged to leave the tour a month before the official end date. This also coincided with my being a witness at the Old Bailey at the trial of Corporal Daniel James who was being tried in violation of the Official Secrets Act 1911; we had worked together in Kabul in 2006 (he was found guilty). This had all been agreed by my previous BC however my new one rejected my claims; I was to lead and establish an artillery planning cell for 2PWRR while my BC helped plan and take part in a 2,000 troop strong, five-day convoy through enemy territory to deliver a hydroelectric turbine to the Kajaki Dam. Code named Operation Eagle Summit the task was one of the largest logistical operations since World War II (the turbine was only finally installed in 2016).
Another day in paradise
I should not be here
It was with a heavy heart I travelled to FOB DELHI to meet and support 2PWRR; not only was I going to be longer in Helmand than expected but I did not think I was qualified for the role I was about to undertake. I was about to establish and command an artillery cell that was responsible for artillery fires, having not trained for the role and never completed the lower ranked role of firing in anger on the battlefield myself. I was, again, to be tied to a desk but one nowhere near as nice as before; FOB DELHI was the other end of the spectrum compared to the five star FOB PRICE. As fortune would have it once the cell was completed and active we were not called upon; thus I neither called in artillery fire nor did I ever authorise artillery fire. I also came across my FST, of whom I had been relieved of command during pre- deployment training, who had been allocated to FOB DEHLI.
We're not gonna take it
Time to go
Operation Eagle Summit had finished and my BC had made his way to FOB DELHI. I, however, was not there. I had made arrangements to leave Afghanistan on my planned exit date. My route out of the country involved first travelling to FOB DWYER, where the gun element of C Battery happened to be based. From there I would arrange onward travel to Camp BASTION and then find a seat on a plane back to Germany.
Are you gonna go my way
Hitching a lift with the Household Cavalry
My final journey in Afghanistan was via a road move in a Jackal vehicle belonging to the Household Cavalry, a fitting end to my military career; my first platoon sergeant during training at Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst had been a Corporal Major in the Blues and Royals, part of the Household Cavalry Regiment (he was not a sergeant; the etymology of the word ‘sergeant’ comes from the Latin to serve and the role of the Household Cavalry is to protect, not to serve.) However there was one final hurdle before leaving Afghanistan; my BC had stated I could not leave the country without his permission, which he finally gave the evening before my plane was scheduled to take off.
"I can't go back to yesterday, because I was a different person then."
A summery of my tour reads thus:
Captain with C Battery, 3rd Regiment Royal Horse Artillery, 7th Armoured Brigade supporting 1st Battalion, the Royal Irish Regiment, 16 Air Assault Brigade. I deployed to Afghanistan as part of the Close Support Operational Mentoring and Liaison Team under NATO’s International Security Assistance Force multinational military mission.
I was initially based in Camp SHORABAK, aka Camp TOMBSTONE, and then moved to MOB LASHKAR GAH, the headquarters of 16 Air Assault Brigade, organising and conducting joint patrols between the Afghan National Army and the MOB force protection company of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, 5th Battalion, Royal Regiment of Scotland.
- Alice, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
I subsequently moved to FOB PRICE, headquarters of the Danish Battle Group to run the Operations Room which I closed down when sub unit command was taken over by the Oregon National Guard.
I then came under the remit of 7th Parachute Regiment, Royal Horse Artillery before moving to Regional Command South to establish the Fire Processing Cell in support of 2nd Battalion, Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment, at FOB DELHI.
I left Afghanistan from Camp BASTION, having travelled there through the desert, from FOB DWYER with a patrol from the Household Cavalry.
I am Jack's complete lack of surprise
At least the Army is consistent
My Commanding Officer leaving interview, “I’m not giving you the grade you’ve earned Andy. As you’re leaving the Army a top tier grade would be a waste; I’m giving it to someone else.”