Insert from Shaun O’Mara on his trip north:
Today I got a last minute invite to take the last seat on a Blackhawk to the north of the country to document the latest Afghan National police Academy graduation with an American Marine Colonel. I jumped at the chance, offered condolences to Bair, grabbed cameras and went out to the ramp.
There was no Colonel to meet, the graduation wasn’t that day, there were in fact four seats left and the American photographers were getting territorial. However, when two Blackhawks pull up like taxis outside the Roxy at closing time – do you really care where and with whom we’re going?!
We flew fast and low out of Kandahar and gained altitude the further north we went. I was met at the American FOB by a fresh-faced Californian girl (who also happened to be a sergeant – aren’t they all?) to my VIP room in the desert ghetto.
The following day I met up with a Stryker patrol (American armoured vehicle with 7.62 and a 20mm canon crewed by four.) The crew was hospitable enough, but seemed to lack operational maturity compared to our exceptional Canadian crews (we almost drove over some locals due to communication difficulties.)
Watching the northern town fly by through the sight picture screen of the 20mm, we arrived with only one near fatality at the newly appointed police academy (staffed by USMC mentors.) Watching the recruits hold an AK in one hand and a Qu’ran in the other screaming out their oaths was almost as surreal as the Afghan marching methods (think Russian troops being trained by the Ministry of Silly Walks.) I was left with the mild feeling that vampires had been left in charge of the local bloodbank; and since it was ‘man-love Thursday’ and the convoy was leaving and no-one knew how I as to proceed from this desolate northern town prone to riot where they play croquets with the heads of foreigners – I decided to hitch a ride back with my previous hosts.
Having missed a horrible dinner in the US DFAC I consoled myself to eating soft serve ice cream on top of the rocket bunker watching the hazy Afghani sun sink into the hills (that Hannibal, Alexander, Attila, the British, the Nazis and Soviets all failed to conquer) thoroughly convinced that at any minute I was going to get jacked sky high for my slovenly and ill-disciplined behavior.
A colonel greeted me a good evening and a over zealous Presbyterian pastor was the only one who invited me down ‘frum thar’ to attend a service that was touted as ‘Lively with Christ!’
GOB BLESS AMERICA! AND AFGHANISTAN! (I hope the hard fought contest for kookiest country on earth is settled soon…..)
SJO
