Profiles

:: March 2007

Terry, Toby and the band with a Harrier aircraft

Day 4

Kandahar

We're up for 7:15 and in Breakfast for 8am. After that it's away to visit the helicopter pilots at Heathrow (Kandahar). The set up is amazing and we look at Black Hawks, Apaches and we're inside a Chinook. The Chinooks here are fully armed, and look ridiculously scary pieces of kit. What strikes us is how young everybody looks, officers who run these places are barely into their twenties by the looks of things yet they're all so mature and grounded. I'm not sure I was at their age.

From there it's off to the Harriers, which are amazing. Big nasty looking animals loaded up with Hellfires and all sorts of bombs. While we are there one of the Harriers takes off on a mission, and we have to stand back as it taxis past us. Everyone has seen these huge machines before, either on TV, air shows, or on other Combined Services Entertainment gigs, but this is the first time that any of us have actually seen one take off on a mission to do what it’s built for. It’s decidedly odd.

A sergeant tells us that the bomb I'm leaning against would take out a house, with a killing field the size of a football pitch, which shakes us all up. We than have a mass debate as to which football pitch we should choose. If you're interested, it's Old Trafford.

Night two at the gig is better than the first, much tighter. A young marine called Teen Wolf joins the band on stage and really rocks. The troops love it, though I think the Americans are getting a bit sick of having the mickey taken. Bed, still no beer.

Up early, to check in for our flight to Bastion. We are travelling by Hercules, a big old lumpy plane that has served the British Military for thirty years. We move to departures and take a seat around the TV while we wait for our 11.30 flight. Sky News runs a piece about Afghanistan, with shots taken from Kandahar, and we spot all the places we've been for the last couple of days. Seeing the serious face of the journo we walked past yesterday and listening to the news is really odd, as we've felt nice and safe so far.

The ride in the Herc is fantastic. Barry, the Squadron Leader gets me up front, so I'm in the cockpit for the entire 35 minute trip. I've never been in a cockpit before, so it's a fantastic experience, and even though I'm a bit nervy about flying normally, I don't get at all worried.

Toby enjoying his time in the Hercules' cockpit

We fly over the desert, which is probably the most amazing thing I've ever seen; it looks exactly like the sea, just bright red and the pilot, Garbs, does a little bit of tricky flying that I'm sure he reserves for scaring wimps like us. After twenty minutes of pure desert Camp Bastion comes into view, a huge square, slap bang in the middle of nowhere. It's amazing positioning, there’s nothing round it for miles and miles, and Hilary our military contact tells us that it’s impossible to attack because of the amount of visibility round it. I hope she’s right,

Bastion is something else. If we've felt fairly removed from the war effort so far, now we're in the middle of a film. Helicopters take of constantly throughout the day and night, as do aeroplanes. Beaten-up cars full of hard looking blokes with beards steam in and out of camp all day long, and everybody has a determined look about them. Toby, the Adjutant, describes the place to MASH 4077, the closest place to the front line. It's where the lads at the front fighting the Taliban come back to to get a bit of rest, and it's nowhere near as developed as the base at Kandahar. We are sleeping in tents, eight in a pod, and there is only one shop on the entire base. It feels very workmanlike.

The gig is in a big old hangar, and the crew make it look and sound fantastic in an amazingly short amount of time. Seven hundred troops fill it up by 7.30, and these guys are on a two can rule, which means for $3 they get two cans of Stella each. This is reserved for special occasions and when you've spent four months at altitude and not had a beer at all, it's amazing the effect it can have. They loosen up beautifully, and it's a great gig.

The band absolutely storm, with everyone in the place standing on their chairs. I take the mickey out of the colonel in the front row, but he takes it in the spirit it's intended, and the troops appreciate that. The effect that these shows have on the troops is amazing. They spend all day doing a tough, dirty job. In summer here the temperature can reach 50 degrees, whilst in winter it's freezing and still the work needs doing. They are under constant pressure, whether it’s on base or outside where the bullets are flying, and they are all missing home. The shows give them a couple of hours off, and they deserve it.

As we walk round the camp during the day, we'll be stopped all the time by lads and lasses who want to shake our hands and thank us for the previous night's show, and what strikes me is how normal they all are, despite the work they have to do. They are good, hard working kids who really appreciate the fact that we've come over and had a laugh with them. I hate being away from home, but I love the fact that we're helping-out.