Postcard From Kandahar, Oct. 18

Another email from a friend in the Canadian Armed Forces;

It is 2324 here and I should be considering going to bed, as I will have another early fun filled day ahead of me tomorrow, but I realized it has been awhile since I emailed one of my stories, and there is so much to tell. So before I forget I will get started.
About a week ago I left for Kandahar. I arrived just in time to hear about a suicide bomber destroying a UK vehicle. From there, things just got worse. It was fast becoming ‘Hell Week’. I believe it was the following day that the rocket hit the CDN Ambassador’s residence in Kabul. Two local guards were hit. I was later informed by one of the embassy employees that the one guard was only injuried slightly, while the other one, they were amazed he made it to the hospital alive. He was hit in the side and was bleeding profusely. A mere month earlier I had been at the embassy doing added security for a threat against Chris Alexander’s life.
Back to Kandahar. I had arrived on a Saturday, and on a Monday, bright and early we gathered for a convoy to the PRT(Provincial Reconstruction Team) camp. It is about a 30km drive NNE to the camp. It was very uneventful, but very insightful at the same time. Kandahar and Kabul are worlds apart, but I will get to that later. Upon arriving at the camp, we dismounted, and were just speaking of searching out a coffee when the blast was heard. A bomb of sorts had gone off a short distance from the camp. Later in the morning another explosion was heard a bit further away. The camp came to life. From my vantage point, I was able to watch the camp scramble. Soldiers running with a purpose. The medical team was sent out with a convoy of about 7 vehicles. Word later reached us that no Canadians had been involved. Both incidents had involved the death and injury of locals. The rest of the day was quieter. We returned to KAF(Kandahar Air Field) very late into the evening.
The routine for Canadian movement in Kandahar at the moment is to travel under the cover of dark. So we leave before sun up and arrive home well after sundown.
One thing I will say about the convoy commander is, he means business. He had been in one of the convoys when the Canadians hit an IED, and Canadians had been hurt, so he takes it all very seriously. Orders for departure are given and he asks questions on the brief afterwards. Like ‘what do you do if your vehicle hits an IED? What do you do if you come under fire?’ These are all a real part of life in Kandahar. And it became very apparant during my stay.
The Tuesday we decided to leave even earlier for the PRT. As we prepared to mount up. An explosion was heard. We got into the vehicles and headed for the gate. We were told to stand down and return to our prior location, we would not be going out yet. The explosion heard, was the sound of a rocket hitting within 800m of the camp. While standing around the vehicles waiting for the word, we heard two more distant explosions. They hit the middle of the city.
Me and one of the guys were just heading towards Green Beans for a chocolate chai latte to go, when we were called back. Oh so close……….I could almost taste the coffee. We loaded up and were on our way. It had been less then an hour since the first explosion. We took an out of the way route this time, as you try not to use the same route over and over, but that can be hard when there is only one road. You don’t want to be predictable or complacent.
We took a back road this time, and I use the term loosely (like the sand was). We ended up turning around several times and heading in new directions. All the time the road just seemed to disappear as we got going. The sun was now coming up, and the locals were gathering on the sides of the hills to watch the Canadians drive around a swampy field. If you drive by the same person more than three times, are you on a first name basis? At one time we were even parallel to the hwy we were trying to avoid. Finally we gave up and got back on the hwy. Just before we reached the PRT we were told a rocket hit within 300m of the camp. Our luck was holding out, but for how long?
The evening trip home was quiet. We had been briefed about another suicide bomber in the area just before we departed.
My last night in Kandahar, just after midnight, I heard a whistle………….followed by an explosion. Another explosion followed. Shortly after I heard shots fired and choppers taking off. A siren sounded for half an hour, but no one in the tent moved. The next day I found out the two rockets had hit the tarmac. A harrier was destroyed and another damaged. A fuel truck had also been hit and caught fire. No one at work had heard the siren. My partner(on the OP) and I were in a different tent on the far side of the camp, and we both heard it. We were also informed, that though it is the practice for the Canadians to call a ‘Stand to’ in the event of an incident such as a rocket exploding, it is not the practice followed by the Americians. A ‘Stand to’ is when you grab your PPE(Personal Protective Equipment), flack jacket and helmet, and run for the nearest bunker. The Americian camp does not have enough bunkers for all personal, so they feel it is safe enough to just stay put.
Two days after my return to Camp Julien, we heard that the building next to the PX(military store), had been hit with mortar. Not sure of the amount of damage. Hopefully the Green Bean survived.
I would like to say, that I wish that everyone could see the sights that I have seen. I have taken some pictures, but it does not do justice. There is so much beauty in this country, if you just look hard enough. The sight of a crumbling building with families living in it. A half crumbled building with the other half filled in with new bricks. The teetering building with a brand new modern complex going up right behind it. I was told by an officer from a past Roto that even when the school was destroyed, the children kept coming. Now there is a new High School not far from camp. This is progress. This is determination on the part of the men and children I see pushing wheelbarrels of brick to put up a wall. Or hauling that same wheelbarrel full of rotting garbage to clean a little spot for a store cart.
When I came back from Kandahar, and I was on the drive back from the Kabul airport, I saw such a difference from Kandahar. Kabul is full of life. We drove our Canadian convoy of trucks by and people stopped to watch. Children smiled and waved. Now even the adults smile and wave as we pass. I have talked to some of the Afghans in Kabul, and they are sorry to see us go. They will miss the Canadians. Yes, most will miss the money we brought with us, and the jobs we gave them, but they also say they like the Canadians. We are nice, friendly, and have helped them start over.
As I look to the mountains that surround us, I too will miss Kabul.

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Update – Cerberus on Rick Mercer.