Day 74 Week 10

Two more soldiers from my son's company were killed yesterday. The suicide bombers also killed two members of the Afghan army who were working with the Rifles' trying to instil confidence and a sense of security within the indigenous population. May they RIP.

The awful truth that if you hear it first on the media then it's not one of your own kith and kin prevails, and now the routine is I send a group text to all my contacts to inform them C was OK that time.

My words seem feeble and pathetic within the context of such grief so I am extracting from the diary of Major Richard Streatfeild covering his time on the front with 3 Rifles, as posted on the BBC website. The following are his words posted 11th December 2009

"The comfort of the sleeping bag in the chill morning air. The invigorating shock of the occasional cold shower. Clean combats dried in the dusty air.

"Hot coffee, bacon slice, beans and porridge. The acrid ammonia of the desert rose and the rich odour of the deep trench latrine. 80 pounds of armour, ammunition, kit and clobber.

"The crackle of radio communications. clipped and terse.

"High walls, narrow alleys, open fields, dusty roads and clothes; heat shimmer, rain on hot stones, mist in the green zone.

"The Somme like suction of the irrigated poppy field. Waist deep in water bobbing with excrement.

"Sweat and steam on protective specs. Careful steps. The adrenaline injection of imminent action. The crack and thump of lead trough the air, the fizz of a rocket propelled grenade.

"The hornet drone of the helicopter spitting fire. The high octane low pass of the jet.

"Sweat, mud, blood, fear, bravery. Calm after the storm. Eerie calm. Tobacco spat, bines puffed, the smoke of dung fires.

"Bravado, banter, humour, laughter. Grief like a stone. The IED explosion, the slam of a metal container door to similar to distinguish. Nervous relaxation.

"Sunset on jagged peaks, bright stars, crisp nights, moon shadow. Noodles, meat and boiled tinned carrots, chocolate sponge.

"The tapping of the keyboard reporting to commanders. Late nights and gentle snoring of men at rest" .......

*****************

....... "There is no such ting as a normal day in Afghanistan.

"One of my Platoons has begun to partner a Platoon from the Afghan National Army (ANA). The Afghans have already got a small team of UK mentors in their camp, but this move is part of the renewed effort to help the ANA take on the insurgency with more vigour.

"All the planning and conduct of patrols is done jointly. The Platoon has worked extremely hard in the last forty eight hours to give their new home enough protection.

"The insurgents have responded in a number of ways but today they out did themselves.

"The ANA Platoon had received some information that the insurgents were going to try to strap an IED to a donkey and send it towards the camp. Donkeys do not have the reputation of being the most compliant animal, so it was treated with some scepticism at first.

"Then in the afternoon the gate guard realised there was something suspicious going on. A group had just let go of a donkey a short way from camp and hurried off. He tried to divert the animal with flares and other warnings.

"Obstinacy not being the best quality in that situation, the beast of burden eventually had to be stopped with a rifle shot.

"The team went out and established there was something very suspicious under the bundle of hay carried by the donkey.

"Eventually one brave ANA warrior set fire to the hay with a flare from a distance, and 30 seconds later there was a considerable explosion. No one was hurt ...... it is impossible to report a donkey IED up the chain of command without ....... a feeling that the world is slightly off its axis".

The Major then went on to describe how two young Afghan children aged nine were horrifically injured by an IED, and despite the efforts of the soldiers to save them they died on the helicopter on the way to Camp Bastion.

R on her way home for the holiday and broke - had to release emergency funding to facilitate travel home. H in France and hopefully enjoying avant-piste, and Buckinghamshire graced with snow.

God bless those in danger.

Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x