A so called MRAP standing just outside Sar Howza on the day we visited the former girls school. I like this one, because it has a somewhat deceptive feel of tranquility to it (Photo: Heimken)

Afghanistan must be one of the most challenged countries in the world, at least the parts we got to see. This is by no means the fault of the general populace, but there are powers hard at work keeping this country down – they’re not just foreigners.

As Staff Sergeant Meredith of Apache Company 2-28 said, there are many men in powerful positions, who are not interested in educating their subjects out of fear they might start to want a piece of the pie.

War as a way of life

The role the Westerners are playing in Afghanistan, I’m not sure of. In some cases they might be helping the population, but at the same time the presence of this mighty war machinery is a welcome reason for some to keep fighting.

There are many men for who war has become a way of life and income. The infidel on Afghanistan’s soil is the best excuse for waging war.

The population is sitting on the fence, like onlookers, trying to establish, who will in the long run gain the upper hand. Whoever this will turn out to be, they will follow. Captain Perkins, a wise military man, said that this behaviour, or state of mind, has throughout history prevailed with people in wars.

He brought up the American War of Independence (1775–1783), when in America there was a majority of undecided onlookers, waiting to see, which side was winning.

It’s getting worse

The general impression I got from talking to aid workers, interpreters, locals and soldiers was that the situation in Afghanistan is worsening. Zee the taxi driver, who yesterday drove us to the airport, said he would try to leave.

So far, there is no peace and stability in Afghanistan, as the killing of former President Rabbani on Wednesday has proven graphically. The International Security and Assistance Force can – for whatever reason – not provide for what they intend to do.

On October 7 the war will enter its 11^th year. And I’m with international analysts, the secret service chief Nick Mohammed I spoke to in Mata Khan and Mullah Tuti in Shatowry: There will be no peace in this country as long as the situation in Pakistan is not resolved.

Why should the Taliban and insurgent networks even think of peace and reconciliation, as long as they’re supported in a safe haven across the border?!

Finally, the full V.I.P. treatment on our way back through Sharana (Photo: Loesche)

Meanwhile, Axel and I are back in Kabul. We arrived here yesterday at the military part of the airport. We are scheduled to fly on tomorrow in the morning to Dubai. The further we get from our embed, the more we wind down. Now, that we have some time to gather our thoughts, we slowly realise how exhausting this journey really was.

Three weeks were plenty.

We left the COP Sar Howza late on Saturday after we had the encounter with the mullah and mujahedeen Tuti. We were driven to the 172nd’s headquarters by MRAP convoy to Sharana and got there at around 22.00. The brigade’s PAO Major Buccino was waiting for us. He showed us our rooms. I was lucky to get room V.I.P. 2 this time. (About time. Buccino had been promising us the whole V.I.P. treatment since we first got here!).

In the news

I wrote a news piece for the agency about the mujahedeen getting involved in the peace process. Axel prepared three photos to go with it. We were both really knackered and slept in the next morning. Buccino had us signed up for a C-130 flight on Sunday afternoon.

We rode in his SUV to the terminal building, which in Sharana looks like a wooden saloon and stopped by at Green Beans Coffee, a franchise business that specialises on military bases. Once we got to the air field there were plenty of contractors and soldiers put down their names down for the flight. The roll call was at 16.55, we wouldn’t leave until 19.30. I suspected we wouldn’t make it because of the many passengers with higher priority.

The Game

Before the lights were turned off. The floor of the C-130 taking us from Sharana to Bagram (Photo: Loesche)

The most interesting thing about military air travel is that it’s so different from civilian air travel. First you don’t pay. The downside is that you – especially as a journalist – can get kicked off at any time, or the whole flight is just canceled or delayed. It’s a nerve racking game. There’s only one rule that counts: You know you made the flight when you are well in the air – even then you can just hope the plane won’t turn round.

Well, we made the flight … after standing lined up in two lines on the airfield for half an hour while the C-130 was being relived of it’s cargo it had flown in from wherever it had come from. The specialty about this flight was that we flew in complete darkness. The lights were switched off before the start and didn’t come on until after touch down in Bagram. (Axel was actually signaled to switch off his iPod because of the light from the display).

The glow of lightening

The only light source were the back ends of the night vision goggles of the two crewmen standing at the rear doors looking out the tiny round windows, probably on the look out for enemy on the ground. You could also see the faint glow of the emergency exits on the roof and the glowing of clock’s hands on our fellow passengers wrists.

It was the bumpiest flight so far. I was singing songs I learned when I was with the German paras doing my national service ten years back. At some point the few round windows in the hull lit up. Not to far away there must have been a thunderstorm. The noise of the aircraft was so loud that you surely couldn’t make out any thunder.

25 Minutes later we landed safely in Bagram. Axel an I shoved our luggage into the 24-hour holding area and made our way to the DEFAC. We had only had breakfast late in the morning. We were relieved to have made the first part of our air travel.

Hotel California

Bagram airfield before we left for Kabul. The white plane is unmarked. It wasn't a UN plane (Photo: Loesche)

Whilst we were eating chocolate ice cream sitting outside the DEFAC I told Axel that I wasn’t in favour of sleeping at “Warrior” again. On our first visit I saw a sign for a hotel on Disney Boulevard, the main road in Bagram. And, if I remembered correctly I had heard Major Buccino say something along the lines of: “Don’t all journalists stay at Hotel Such-and-Such in Bagram?” – after we had told him the story about our adventurous stay at “Camp Warrior” on our way out.

We walked for twenty minutes and were about to give up, after we had passed the Polish compound and the Egyptian field hospital, then finally we read the sign “Media Support Centre” and under it: “Hotel California”. We knocked on the door of a smallish wooden hut. We stepped inside and were greeted by a sergeant who said he had been expecting us.

At first, I though he was playing the “I’lI-pretend-I-now-what’s-going-on-even-if-I-don’t”-game. Then he showed us our names written on a white board and told us our flight for tomorrow had been booked. We were astonished. Another incident of following some instinct that leads you straight to your goal. We hadn’t known the media were so well catered for here.

Afghanistan from above

The pilot of the two propeller STOL flight took a sharp right turn and steep dive into Kabul airport. STOL stands for Short Take-Off and Landing - nuff said! (Photo: Loesche)

We slept in our own room with a bunk bed – a major improvement to the huge and crowded tent in “Camp Warrior”. It seemed befitting that the sergeant drove us all the way to the terminal the next morning. Where we were listed for a so called STOL flight (a regular scheduled flight) to Kabul.

At 13.30 we boarded a small two propeller air force plane with regular passenger seats and plenty of foot room. We clung to the windows for all of the 15 minute flight to Kabul, made some photos. It was the first flight that we could actually see where we were flying. We got billeted and put into a tent at KAIA. One step closer to home!

How to sell agricultural lessons. Teachers at Mata Khan boys highschool (Photo: Heimken)

Today, we first drove to Sharana and then on to Mata Khan, a much smaller combat outpost than Sar Howsa. I had fun listening to Frank Sinatra, Black Sabbath and some country tunes on our way over via an iPod connected to the intercom.

Mata Khan is home to the 1^st Platoon of Captain Perkins Apache Company 2-28. The country side surrounding it is completely flat, unlike the Sar Howza region. Although it’s only about 15 to 20 kilometers away, the climate feels different too. It’s much warmer, at least 15 degrees Celsius more.

There’s much more arable land here. We drove past some really impressive castle like Qalats, big square compounds with high mud walls and small turrets on each corner. I guess they reflect the mentality of the people living in this region. Everybody who is wealthy enough protects their fortunes out of sight. Their home really is their castle here.

It might be a testament to the fact that there is no centralised authority, called the nation state that has vowed to protect private property and enforce sanctions against people who don’t respect that right. By now there are such institutions in place in Afghanistan, but they are young and not welcome by everyone. The province of Paktika is known for being stubbornly anti-government.

Hate the state

Even in mainstream US politics there are prominent political strands that hate the idea of a powerful centralised state and love the individual’s right to fend for himself. And, in the US you find gated communities of wealthy people who rather opt to protect their wealth by private security than to trust the state to do that for them.

I don’t have a clue what the people here really want (That’s the downside of being embedded, you don’t get to meet the common people a lot). Perhaps many of them would be very happy to have a functioning state that will protect their citizen’ rights. Perhaps they would love an independent judiciary along Western lines that doesn’t know any family, clan, or tribal affiliations.

Shortly after we got here to Mata Khan we visited a boy’s school right next to the compound. Here a Lieutenant Colonel of the reserve Air Force, who is an agricultural adviser based in Sharana, met with the police chief and the governor of Mata Khan district and representatives from the school, the headmaster and some teachers.

Fisherman’s Friend

The plan was to have agricultural classes set up to teach the teachers in giving classes on how to improve agricultural techniques in the area. The simple equation being, that if farmers here improved their yield, they would become more prosperous and less susceptible to the insurgency. Peace through prosperity.

The basic idea is sound. The Western led or financed reconstruction efforts have moved on from just setting up projects like the girls school we visited yesterday without really checking sustainability, to going out and asking what the locals want to be done and then teaching them to help themselves. They shall own their projects.

However, as we witnessed today the problem with this is that the locals are still more interested in having concrete infrastructure projects financed by the Westerners than having contractors teaching them intangible knowledge that doesn’t bear immediate gains.

The officials who had gathered in the boys school either didn’t quite grasp the concept of teaching a man to fish or they simply wanted fast and tangible aid. I have now often heard or read that Afghans after 30 years of war cherish the short term over the long term gain. It sounds simplistic but actually would be quite understandable, because in Afghanistan there still is no peace and security.

This might show in the Afghan’s thinking, especially in the run up to the pull out of foreign troops. If tomorrow isn’t promised you tend to get what you can lay your hands as long as you can. Why plant trees whose fruit might take decades to harvest.

I was wondering yesterday when I saw some unkempt trees that could have been olive plants, why they weren’t growing this fruit in this country. I’m not an agricultural expert, olive trees might just not grow in this climate – or they indeed take to long to carry fruit.

We only got sketchy information about one service member being killed in Paktika late on Saturday. I haven’t been able to confirm any such news on the internet after it came back on this morning.

Mortars

Saturday night fireworks, bring ya ear plugs! (Photo: Heimken)

On Saturday night we were standing right next to the mortar pit when they were firing illumination rounds out of their 120 Millimeter tube, lighting up the three Kilometre corridor between the base and the town of Sar Howsa. They shot at least ten rounds into the night sky – for show of force more than anything.

The assistant gunner steps to the mortar. The NCO tells him to “hang it” and the gunner will place the round into the tubes opening. After he’s commanded to fire, he simply lets the round drop into the tube. Where the rounds initial charge explodes and the grenade is violently propelled into sky. The loud explosion makes the area the pit tremble.

The illumination rounds break into half over the destined area. The part with the phosphorus substance glides to the ground on a parachute. They changed the direction of fire slightly once. Axel took some awesome pictures of the live firin exercise.

Ceremony

Have a patch, son! (Foto: Heimken)

The 10^th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks on Sunday didn’t cause too much of a stir. But for symbolism’s sake Captain Perkins held a so called Patch Ceremony on the parking space. The soldiers of Apache Company have now been in theater for more than 30 days and those who didn’t have a patch already were given the brigades insignia to stick onto their right upper arm.

Perkins set the ceremony on this day, so the soldiers would be reminded of why they were fighting this war. I asked Perkins whether the combat outpost had been put under higher alert. To which he responded, that they had parked MRAP-vehicles as additional barricades in front of the entrance.

But, he added, the Taliban had actually distanced themselves from the deeds of what they perceive as a foreign organisation, the al Quaida, ten years ago.

Bazaar

3rd platoon on shopping tour in Sar Howza bazaar (Foto: Heimken)

For the first time we ventured out with one of the platoons into a built up area. Staff Sergeant Neal Nuñez let us join the soldiers of 3^rd platoon on their patrol into Sar Howsa bazaar, which is actually located on the outskirts of the town.

We drove the three kilometers in a convoy of MRAPs. We dismounted at the entrance to the town and walked up to what is considered a police station. The building looks like a bombed out garage for trucks. Part of the roof has collapsed. In one corner a man was pulling freshly baked Naan from an oven stacking it on top.

We picked up three police officers and walked some hundred meters to the bazaar, which is made up of flat mud buildings housing little shops and businesses. Garbage was all over the place, some well trodden into the ground. A little stream of filthy water trickled across the street.

The shopkeepers didn’t seem very welcoming but neither were they hostile towards the soldiers and civilians visiting their market place. A guy from human resources interviewed a carpenter who stood in front of his workshop putting the finishing touches on an impressive gate. He was making a good living he said. His shop smelled of pine tree from Kunar province.

Presence

Another trader selling fruit and vegetables was pretty dodgy when answering questions about whether he had knowledge of outsiders in this area. After a while he just answered that the local populous wouldn’t turn in any aliens, they feared retribution from the Taliban. After it started to rain the bazaar quickly deserted, the shopkeepers pulled down their shutters.

We spent two hours up there. Nuñez was adamant that it’s always worth going up there. If they didn’t show up, the people would start feeling neglected. In this war just being present can be more useful than using force.

The Afghan DJ in his studio in the combat outpost Sar Howza (Photo: Heimken)

Today, we did an interesting story on an Afghan DJ who runs a radio station on camp, for the population outside the wire. The station was set up by ISAF. Interestingly Iranian music seems to be all the hype. It’s what the 20-year-old plays a lot.

Apart from playing music he also reads out news he gets from the 3-66 Battalion headquarters in Sharana and he reads out jokes every now and then. It must be hard for him living on base with all the Americans, the only company he has are the interpreters working for the unit.

Lobster and Steak

Captain Perkins and his two platoons came back inside the wire, the outpost, from their five day mission yesterday evening. The company’s cook made them a special welcome meal – lobster and steak – to greet the men that were living without showers and good food for almost a week.

When the MRAPs and armoured transporters came rolling through the gate and the soldiers started dismounting we met a couple of familiar faces. Some greeted us recognizing us from when we last met them at the casing of the colours ceremony in Grafenwöhr in Bavaria at beginning of June.

The Burning Pit

The burning pit (Photo: Heimken)

We’ve been in the combat outpost for three full days now. On a normal day it’s already hard to breathe at 2700 meters above sea level. Today it’s almost impossible. Thick toxic fumes billow through the outpost.

It’s trash burning day. All waste goes into a pitch by the perimeter of the outpost. A sergeant pours fuel onto the black plastic bags that have been collected from all over the post. The wind carries the fumes of burnt waste through the base.

Southerner

Earlier in the day, I had long chat with mechanic and shop foreman Sergeant Bruce Anderson, sitting on the wooden veranda just outside the tactical operations centre. Here the soldiers congregate to smoke and have a chat. They even built a rocking chair. They’ve got a big black plastic box with a frog and a pet tortoise called “Little Mac”.

Sergeant Bruce Anderson, mechanic in the combat outpost Sar Howza (Photo: Heimken)

Anderson is 37 and has a broad southerner drawl, he likes beer and rides dirt bikes in his past time. He joined the army in 2004 and was first deployed to an unusual area of operations – the 2005 debacle in New Orleans caused by hurricane Katrina.

He says the hardest thing about being deployed is being away from the family, or rather making your loved ones worry for such a long time. He’s got two kids and a wife. He, likes most of the other soldiers here, have been very welcoming.

Beyond the Wire

We feel pretty safe on the combat outpost. It doesn’t really feel like a war zone here. The world behind the barbed wire seems remote. We haven’t left the wire, the COP, since we got here. But company commander Perkins has promised to take us out, to see the village of Sar Howza and the outposts, they have set up during their mission.

In the evening the sub-governor of Sar Howza, the local police chief and the deputy chief of the afghan intelligence agency in the district came to visit and exchange some courtesies on the veranda in front of the TOC.

Our location an a map (Photo: Loesche)

The sun’s out. It’s a little after 9.00 a.m. Axel and I spent our first night in our new home. We slept in a wooden hut without windows, the interior divided into smaller rooms with every compartment having their own door outside. Shortly before midnight we were told off by the one of the mechanics, we weren’t supposed to have our light on because of black out rules.

The combat outpost is about as a big as three football fields. It’s guarded by four Towers. They’ve got cameras on all of them. One of the towers is unmanned and has a remote controlled machinegun on its roof. The perimeter of the compound is made of so called Hescos, huge square blocks made from wire lined with fabric filled with rocks and sand.

Heavy Metal

Soldiers chillin out in COP Sar Howza (Photo: Loesche)

They’ve got everything they need on the base. A kitchen container, a dining facility, a gym where the soldiers were working out last night to heavy metal when I was sitting just outside the exercise room, on one of the computer workstations connected to the internet. They even have a laundry facility where Axel washed his T-Shirts this morning.

Three platoons of Apache Company live here, more than 100 men in total. I haven’t seen any women, like on the bigger based in Bagram or Sharana. The company commander, Captain James Perkins left the compound with most of his men late last week. So we haven’t seen him yet. They are busy setting up check points and observation posts at a vital crossing a few kilometers from here.

When the district governor is not in the provincial capital Sharana he resides on the outpost, the district centre is located on base. So when there are shuras the town elders come to the base to hold the meetings here. We’ve been told that after more than 100 insurgents were killed by US special forces in July just North of here in the mountains they transported the bodies here for biometric screening.

No TICs

A mechanic (Photo: Loesche)

The soldiers who were left behind at the COP seem pretty chilled out. None of them are wearing their flak vests or helmets. The outpost didn’t get attacked for a while. That might change after Ramadan is over since last Friday. Everybody seems surprised there haven’t been any attacks or TICs, troops in contact – fire fights with insurgents.

Where Perkins and his platoons are setting up the posts the insurgents had established check points of their own they just gave up because most fighters went home for the holy month of Ramadan. It would make sense for the insurgent fighters to now come back and fight the infidels and the Afghan National Army (ANA) to regain control of the area.

At one point it looked like we might be able to join Perkins and his men and spend the night out in the field. A convoy with fuel was going to be sent out with resupplies. They didn’t drive out after all so we stayed on base.

Axel later pointed out that this was a good thing. Before we left Kabul we were talking to a first sergeant of the US marines. He had been deployed four times and his motto was: “Don’t get killed on the first day – and don’t get killed on the last”. This wasn’t the first day of our journey, but the first of our stay in Sar Howza. We need to settle in first.