Michael Den Tandt - In Afghanistan Blog
Article Link
Blog Link - previous articles on Kandahar and PRT here
Phew. I’m home.
We left Kandahar, early on the sixth…. three days ago? It feels like longer. But then, time gets distorted in Afghanistan, because the days all begin at six and end at two or three a.m. on the following morning…the days run together, one into the next, until after a week you’ve lost track of everything but the basic, such as: where am I right now? Where do I need to be next? Where will be bunk down tonight, and do they have internet access, and is it accessible to us?
What an extraordinary ten days. The last time I blogged, we were at the PRT - Camp Nathan Smith, in Kandahar City. That was a real eyeopener for me, because I saw all manner of things that I hadn’t expected to see. There are new buildings, large ones, all over the camp, where 18 months ago there were none. There are new buildings going up in Kandahar City too - mainly police stations, which is critical, because they serve as bases for the Afghan police, which helps them project power, which helps establish order. The environment remains extremely dangerous, and Canadian soldiers and aid workers are constantly under threat of attack. But the force projected on the ground is such , and the level of training now of the new Afghan army is such, that the omnipresent sense of chaos is, well, lessening. That’s not at all what I expected to find. It could turn the other way in a heartbeat, but from what I saw, there is progress. The cost in lives, the cost in aid dollars, is achieving concrete, if slow, results. That’s not what most Canadians understand to be the case, is it?
The day we left the PRT, I had mixed feelings. I’d have liked to stay on longer, to write about what’s happening there. It really is one of the most extraordinary stories I’ve ever come across, in 15 years in this business - a small, tight-knit group of Canadians, doing incredible work under the most bizarrely difficult, dangerous condidtions, and actually getting somewhere. But we had to go. We were ferried out on a Blackhawk helicopter, provided by the United States, back to Kandahar Airfield. Our tent had moved in our absence, and the new spot was actually quite a bit better than the old. It was near Old Canada House. New Canada House, a much large building a 20-minute walk away, is a marvel by comparison. It has its own PX store, a barber shop, conference rooms, all the amenities of home. Old Canada house is homier, a little grittier, older. There’s a big poster of Don Cherry on the wall. Upstairs, where we set up to write, is a little library, with two or three shelves of paperpacks, mostly thrillers, which the soldiers use in their time off.
Our last night at KAF, my colleague Lindsey Wiebe, from the Winnipeg Free Press, went over to the coalition hospital and spoke with the doctors and nurses there. That’s a story I still need to write - didn’t have time to finish it before we left. The hospital is very well-equipped, just like any hospital in Canada, but it treats more severe trauma injuries than any hospital in Canada ever would. The night we were there an Afghan man and his son were brought in by helicopter and treated. They were hurt in a motorcycle crash. It turns out the vast majority of casualties at the hospital are Afghan, not coalition soldiers. The hospital treats enemy fighters too: Under the Geneva Conventions, we provide medical care to all combatants, regardless of which side they’re on. There’s a special room at the back of the main operating theatre, where they keep Taliban casualties, under guard.
More on link
Article Link
Blog Link - previous articles on Kandahar and PRT here
Phew. I’m home.
We left Kandahar, early on the sixth…. three days ago? It feels like longer. But then, time gets distorted in Afghanistan, because the days all begin at six and end at two or three a.m. on the following morning…the days run together, one into the next, until after a week you’ve lost track of everything but the basic, such as: where am I right now? Where do I need to be next? Where will be bunk down tonight, and do they have internet access, and is it accessible to us?
What an extraordinary ten days. The last time I blogged, we were at the PRT - Camp Nathan Smith, in Kandahar City. That was a real eyeopener for me, because I saw all manner of things that I hadn’t expected to see. There are new buildings, large ones, all over the camp, where 18 months ago there were none. There are new buildings going up in Kandahar City too - mainly police stations, which is critical, because they serve as bases for the Afghan police, which helps them project power, which helps establish order. The environment remains extremely dangerous, and Canadian soldiers and aid workers are constantly under threat of attack. But the force projected on the ground is such , and the level of training now of the new Afghan army is such, that the omnipresent sense of chaos is, well, lessening. That’s not at all what I expected to find. It could turn the other way in a heartbeat, but from what I saw, there is progress. The cost in lives, the cost in aid dollars, is achieving concrete, if slow, results. That’s not what most Canadians understand to be the case, is it?
The day we left the PRT, I had mixed feelings. I’d have liked to stay on longer, to write about what’s happening there. It really is one of the most extraordinary stories I’ve ever come across, in 15 years in this business - a small, tight-knit group of Canadians, doing incredible work under the most bizarrely difficult, dangerous condidtions, and actually getting somewhere. But we had to go. We were ferried out on a Blackhawk helicopter, provided by the United States, back to Kandahar Airfield. Our tent had moved in our absence, and the new spot was actually quite a bit better than the old. It was near Old Canada House. New Canada House, a much large building a 20-minute walk away, is a marvel by comparison. It has its own PX store, a barber shop, conference rooms, all the amenities of home. Old Canada house is homier, a little grittier, older. There’s a big poster of Don Cherry on the wall. Upstairs, where we set up to write, is a little library, with two or three shelves of paperpacks, mostly thrillers, which the soldiers use in their time off.
Our last night at KAF, my colleague Lindsey Wiebe, from the Winnipeg Free Press, went over to the coalition hospital and spoke with the doctors and nurses there. That’s a story I still need to write - didn’t have time to finish it before we left. The hospital is very well-equipped, just like any hospital in Canada, but it treats more severe trauma injuries than any hospital in Canada ever would. The night we were there an Afghan man and his son were brought in by helicopter and treated. They were hurt in a motorcycle crash. It turns out the vast majority of casualties at the hospital are Afghan, not coalition soldiers. The hospital treats enemy fighters too: Under the Geneva Conventions, we provide medical care to all combatants, regardless of which side they’re on. There’s a special room at the back of the main operating theatre, where they keep Taliban casualties, under guard.
More on link
