Marine John O’Loughlin’s letters provide an insight into everyday life for front line troops serving in Afghanistan and the dangers they faced from improvised explosive devices (IEDs) and from grenade attacks, as well as missing home.
It’s starting to develop a pattern … or monotony only understood by the unemployed and all without the benefits of cartoons and day time telly… I’ve made the observation before in the UK that I didn’t work for a living but instead I waited. Well I thank the lord for the blessings of patience he bestowed! I’m currently on Herrick 14 which means there has been 13 tours before I came along… 13 tours where teams like mine have been infinitely busier – so what’s changed? Well seasonal factors, progressive factors but the biggest being that for Herrick 14 they decided to massively increase the number of teams sent out – more than double previous tours. Now the bad guys didn’t get the memo and have failed to scale their production in accordance so in a quiet phase like this you have twice the amount of lads scratching their balls – I could use the time wisely and work on my tan but I’m bored and in a puddle of sweat after ten minutes, plus I don’t have the body for it yet – I did try working on that part but my patience draws a line at standing in the shadows of brick shit houses waiting to use the weights. So ‘Operation Get Massive’ has been scaled back slightly for the time being … but I’m still looking to make some gains by the end of six months… I interrupt this with the sound of mortars putting up a rapid volley of illum – ah I’ve missed [Patrol Base] Rahim!
I’m still working from [FOB] Price but a week’s ass sitting was interrupted yesterday for a task that sounded awesome! Intel had come through of an underground bomb factory in a compound that was producing up to 60 IEDs a day… Bomb factory turned out to be false info but I did get a lovely night sleeping in the desert with the kind of night sky that had me longing for home…
There was a grenade attack on a manned compound about a km outside of the gate. Five injured but thankfully nothing worse than frag … one grenade failed to detonate so the team was called out to detonate and clear. The mortars are still throwing up illum, the air is buzzing with the sound of incoming helos and on call apache, all around the base rushes to get men on the ground and all in the drama of darkness and red torch light… The real Tom Clancy shit was patrolling through the green zone with NVG’s and infrared illum … crossing ditches and canals and skirting along fields and walls in total blackness… Watching as man after man tried to gage a ditch jump offers a rare smile given the trouble gauging depth perception when on monocle… We sprinted the last 20 meters or so and the compound doors were shut tight behind us.
The pace of events along with everyone’s adrenaline was still racing. The injured had been evacuated safely but the danger was still palpable from the scramble of radio orders and questions. Our job firstly was to deal with the unexploded grenade in the courtyard so everyone was ushered into hard cover while Rod and Fraze set up the Dem. In a tiny cupboard room I lay hunched against any number of guys … everyone just shadows but for the flickers of red torch light. The ten minutes to explosion was given and we sat and waited. I watched as silent witness while others still processed the events, some sat with heads and ears still ringing, a few checked for injuries but all thankful for their own lucky ‘it could of/should of’ been me story. For them the war in Afghanistan just got real, no one gets hurt on exercise.
It was only minutes to go when it came across the net that such an attack had been forecasted on the last tour but never happened. Perhaps the death of Bin Laden and the start of the summer offensive gave them the interest to follow through… The old intelligence was for a planned grenade attack on the compound then a withdrawal as the Apache helicopters circled above. We could hear them in the skies above us and I can tell you it’s comforting protection! The Taliban know the response … from the time to casevac, to the time air cover can stay on call. So they knew they need only wait out till both eyes on the ground and in the sky were on the back foot. Air cover gone, 15 Taliban would then try [and] over run the compound.
The first reaction was excitement, the scene was set for the kind of thing I’d only read about but I stopped myself short from getting carried away. This was a very real danger and I had to admit it was an unwanted one. 5 guys had been injured tonight and many more had all ready [sic] had more than their day’s worth. I thought of everyone back home and of the guys huddled around me and said a prayer…
The grenade was blown and the compound was made safe again but now it became a case of waiting for an attack. The guard and sentries were doubled and every one given their positions if ‘stand to’ was to be called. If the Taliban did attack they would be as brave as they would be stupid. There was now 24 of us in this small compound – even a 3/1 ratio would have been suicide. My team along with the searchers with us were given a small store room to sleep in. Everyone was to sleep in armour and take their turns on sentry. We huddled in, resting back against the wall but it wasn’t a night for sleep … just snatched rest from uncomfort.
With sunrise came assurance. The night had now passed without incidence and for the first time people could assess in light what had happened and too many the extent of their luck. 7 grenades had been thrown in the attack. One failed to detonate, two still had the grenade pins attached and four had done their damage. Lads surveyed the frag marks on the walls, through kit and through a damaged pack of fags recounting what had happened and with thought of those injured. One interpreter could count himself among the luckiest men in Afghanistan. A grenade had landed less than a metre’s length from where he lay. It had reduced his [mosquito] net to rags without so much as a scratch to his health. The new day put everyone at ease and normal routine endured… I sat again in the sentry looking out at what had only been darkness and shades of green and enjoyed watching the locals working in the fields and the children playing. Atmospherics as its known were good and with that came safety.
Two hours later as I still sat on guard that changed … things had gone quiet and any one passing seemed to be passing away from us… Enemy radio chatter had rightly or wrongly put Taliban movement in the area. The reality returned rapidly. My gloves and glasses went back on, I oiled the machine gun, arranged its ammo and adjusted my fire position… Once more every one braced and waited… And once more I thought myself selfish and said a prayer…
Allah was merciful that day … half an hour of heightened nerves eased off as kids came back to play and with news that a mix ANA patrol from Rahim was on its way to us (Afghan National Army along with our lads). People returned to the fields and everyday life continued both outside and within the compound walls. As the mixed patrol returned we attached along and made our way back to Rahim… tired hot sweaty and with a lot to be thankful for and lot more to cautious of in the coming days and months…
It’s given me a taste of what danger is faced and how very real the threat can be when you roam in their back yard… And I don’t want to write for the sake of theatrics and nor is it my intent to seed worry… It’s just a case of wanting to tell life out here the way it is because for good but definitely not for bad the media at home never will…
20-06-11
Dear Clodagh,
… Well you’ll probably be happy to hear that “Op Certain Death” didn’t go ahead …it kept getting scaled back further and further until it was to end with us clearing out a single compound, and then it all got put on a shelf due to a Taliban threat about blowing up some bridge or another… So that ended my fun and all the excitement on the horizon, unless we get the next call out:( and even then if the last few call outs are anything to go on, they’re mostly mundane affairs… Like the last one, a ten minute trip down the road to blow up an anti-tank mine – sure it made a big bang but even blowing stuff up doesn’t rock my world these days… I need a little DANGER!! (against all the advice and hopes of everyone I know). Actually, I’ll rephrase danger and substitute it for a little more agreeable term – EXCITEMENT!!
I’m in a country surrounded by people trying to kill me and so far the only danger/excitement I’ve felt was in the grenade compound and with that came the only real time where I could do some soldiering… Every day I sit here and can hear bombs and missiles and all manner of things bringing bad news to unfortunate insurgents yet as soon as I step foot on the ground it’s like a stalemate … both sides just content with watching… I’m not looking to shoot bad guys necessarily… (just like bugs I’ve a strict ethics policy – I even saved a wasp this morning that was doing his best to swim in a bucket of water) everything has a right to live until they try to kill, bite or eat me and then it’s safety off and whoop ass at the ready…
It’s mostly just because I’m bored… It’s just too hot to use the gym – you sweat just lying down so to do anything akin to activity is just messy!… And I start to burn in minutes so I’m sat here in the tent just looking out at some of the guys getting their tan on … so I’m sitting on a wobbly crate and writing on “shabby chic” plywood table because it keeps me upright (laying down invites a puddle), I just finished a letter to Linda, she sent me a letter in the last mail bag to come in – great day – a letter AND a parcel for John! I think she wrote the letter over about a month and a paragraph or few lines every now and then but it made me smile all the same… All news from before I was last home and nothing that I hadn’t heard but her take of current affairs and news headlines made for entertaining reading!It’s just frustrating that post takes so long… (Although improvements have been made and shorter times have been promised.) I sent you a few letters last week but it will probably be 2/3 weeks minimum before you get them… What we need is a cross between a pigeon and a swallow – a Pigeallow! A bird that can fly half way around the world in a relatively straight line and carry a few pages of quality letter! And one of course that takes considerably less than 2/3 weeks or else that plan is kinda flawed – feck it, while I’m making animals up I’ll just settle on one of those flying unicorns … no – one of Santa’s reindeer! Those feckers are good with weight and can get around the whole world in a single night so with a simple A – B route they’d be there within the hour! Just leave a few carrots in your post box!
Oh, and I made a new friend out here … and then I lost him. When we arrived up here in Nahidullah there was a WIS (weapons intelligence specialist) guy staying on from the last team. Probably mentioned WIS before, but just in case, they come out on the ground with us and it’s their job to take whatever we find and send it up for forensics. They also keep us briefed on what’s gone on in the area, lately or in the past to give us the potential for threats. Anyways … when I arrived and dropped my kit in my bed space I saw the space beside me had an Ulster flag and a towel draped with “Loyal” printed on it. It put my deduction skills into practice and I assumed this guy was one of those “Protestants” you here about back home!… Politics and cultures aside he turned out to be a great craic, even if it did take him a while to grasp the concept of why I wouldn’t sign the English national anthem when I served in the British forces. Folks really struggle to grasp the “she’s not my queen, just my boss”. Anyways, he was replaced yesterday by a new WIS and I have to say I miss the wee (tall) guy – always nice to hear a home voice, even if that’s north of the border.
I miss you too kid… I used to have the card you sent me blutac’ed to a piece of cardboard beside my bed space along with photos but it gave me too much to miss. It was too constant a reminder during the long days of waiting, when my days would be spent under the watch of everything dear from home. So about a week ago I took it all down and I now keep it in by bits’n’bobs box. No point spending the days just wishing I was home when I spent so long wishing I was out here. I still take a moment most days to flick through those photos and card…
Becci has just commented on how the hell I can write so much on nothing. In fact the whole team think I’m crazy… The longest I’ve seen any of them write is a thank you letter and that’s usually half a bluey…
But I’m going to end my ramblings for now as it’s not even a week since I wrote to you last and I made a conscious thought to try and limit my habit to once every week or so… Alas, it seems I’m failing… I could write every day but even then I can see that comes about as borderline craziness – actually, there’d be no borderline about it!…
Right, take care as ever kid, and I’m hoping all’s well – sorry, one last interruption! I watched Casablanca the other night and it’s just reminded me of Bogart lifting his glass “… Here’s looking at you kid”… so here’s lifting my half empty bottle of warm water and saying the same – here’s looking at you kid!
The best to you and yours,
Johno.
03-09-11
Dear Clodagh,
It’s over a week since I’ve been here now in Bridzar and I think this week’s been busier than the last month I spent in Nahidullah – and that’s not to assume these last few days have been flat out busy, they haven’t, but three jobs in seven days for the team is still more than we managed there. There’s a constant reminder here in this PB of just how dangerous it can be out here, and it’s a rare occurrence that a patrol sent out into the green zone doesn’t come into contact. I spent one morning on sentry overlooking north when a few hundred metres west gun fire rang out back and forth. In the ten minutes hundreds of rounds exchanged into unseen locations. I watched and listened as two Apaches came in to circle and engage, the trees lighting up in bursts of flashes and leafs falling like confetti! Winning the fire fight can be summed up with the suppression of the enemy by weight of fire – you put more bullets over their head or into them than they can into you. With an Apache it’s almost cheating. There was no confirmation that I heard of that any insurgents had been killed, but if they survived they very quickly changed plan and retreated. One Danish soldier was shot in the hand, the round having struck his rifle and gone clean through both it and his hand. I watched as two American Blackhawk helicopters came to extract him. They operate in pairs, one helicopter covering while the other retrieves. I’ve never seen helicopters manoeuvre so fast and to watch them almost dance is a joy to behold. A joy with a taste of concern for those injured. For no good news follows their arrival.
I mentioned to Tony that I’d like to go out on patrol with one of the call signs some morning if it would be allowed and he said he would ask. Given my job and training he saw no problem to it and asked the two English advisors attached to the ANA if they would allow me to join in one of their patrols. They agree and with two days to wait before they next set off I was hopeful that maybe, just maybe, I would get a taste of what my drivers draft had robbed me of: that I would get to patrol through the green zone as a rifleman in a close combat section. The plan initially was for just me to join this patrol, but it soon became the whole team including searchers. It was sold to the higher powers that it would be a “familiarisation patrol” and with us attached we could deal with anything uncovered. I joined up to soldier and fight, I chose to be a Marine – others though seemed all too unimpressed with the idea of having to needlessly set foot anywhere they didn’t need to. Grumblings within the team of searchers shut the door completely. Some excuse was given and that was the end of any idea of going out. I’m running out of time to experience what I wanted from Afghanistan and if I’m honest I fear it’s going to be one box that I wont get to tick off.
But another box I am excited about ticking off is South America baby!! And if the best memories are the memories shared then I’m thankful I’ll get to share them with someone like you! I’ve been looking online at what I can find about the places, looking at photos, trying to think of things I need to do… Now if I could just learn Spanish and Portuguese in a few weeks… Also on the holiday front I go an email today from one of my mates back at the unit asking if I’d like to go skiing for two weeks in January. Two weeks of “working”. The Navy ski championships are on in France and it’s mostly just an excuse for the Navy to go drinking and skiin
g for two weeks at subsidised prices… Every month we contribute about seven bucks into a sports lottery and the lottery in turn helps out with the cost of such events. I’ve been paying it for almost three years and never won or gone on anything like this so finally it’s nice to use and abuse the system… So not only have I home to look forward to, then with luck South America, then with additional luck I’ll also have a little skiing to ease myself back to the sad reality of having to go back to work!…
The whole PB has just been assembled and it was announced that a Danish soldier has just been killed and five others wounded… He was a double amputee but died back at Bastion… The brief announcement was all the more poignant as it was given in Danish, the list of names and the moments silence the only thing we understood. The silence was interrupted by a call to prayer from the mosque nearby – a reminder if ever needed of where we fight. The incident wasn’t too far from here, but none of them were based with this company. It was a compound search where the unfortunate soldiers triggered an IED… One of the lads here did a job not so long ago exactly opposite the compound in question – it just goes to show that you can only be metres away from a pressure plate perhaps inches and know nothing of your danger or your luck.
Letters from the Front: From the First World War to the Present Day Page 26