Apparently there's been no word from the mountain CP this morning. We all know this could be serious. They wouldn't fly in the ASF if this was just a radio problem. It could be green in green, or maybe a Taliban contact. We make our way there quickly and quietly, there's little of the usual banter. The captain is up front with Azizi and the ASF commander, he's wrapped his face in a shemagh, in case anyone recognises him.
We wade up through the stream, which cools our feet, but the stones are slippery and it's hard on your ankles when you add a full Bergen to the mix. There's no sound or sign of life as we approach the path up to the CP. The tension is building, none of us knows what will happen. We stay below to cover the afghan forces. I'm getting spooked by the quiet. I can't help but think of the warning Bashira gave us about the mountains.
There's so much cover, it's criss crossed by paths, Qaseem says there's leopards up here, prowling at night. He says that the mountains are the Afgan's secret weapon, no one has been able to control them, so no one has ever been able to control Afghanistan. He's a bit proud of it I think. He's a great bloke, but the stories he tells would put Nan's stories of the Blitz to shame. Not that she was in the blitz mind you, but the way she talks you would think she was.
There's a noise overhead. The ASF are shouting for a medic. I'm ready to go, it looks like we can rule out an ambush then.
It's times like this that I'm proud if my soldiers. They're like a well oiled machine. Each knows their place and they slip into their roles effortlessly. Dangles takes point, with Dawes behind, the rest of us follow providing cover. We're at the CP in a matter of minutes, a trip that would have left this lot gasping for air just a few months ago. The look on Azizi's face as we reach the CP tells me all I need to know. Bodies lie by the entrance, dried blood pooled in the ground, the flies already buzzing around them. I quickly count four, all of the troops stationed here last night are dead. I'm immediately thinking through the options; an argument or grudge? An assassination by the Taliban? We've already ruled out direct contact, someone would have radioed it in at the time. Whoever did this was known to the soldiers or caught them unawares. Poor Azizi, so much effort gone overnight.
Dawes is holding back, I can see she's struggling to comprehend what's happened here. She's a good soldier, sometimes I forget this is her first tour. Before I can step in Qaseem gently but firmly reminds Dawes that as the medic she must confirm death. He's a good man and I'm glad he's taken charge here. Given the circumstances my involvement would be inappropriate and patronising to her professionalism. Qaseem is well placed to remind her of her duties, he's a friend and also outside of the structures of the Army. Molly respects him and they have a good rapport. He's been very supportive of her since the incident with Bashira. It's been a privilege to see their friendship develop, I'll often come across them sitting together in the mess him teaching her Pashto, her teaching him cockney. Hearing Qaseem come out with Cockney rhyming slang must count as one of the more surreal moments of my life.
Molly walks over to the bodies and starts to check for vital signs. I can see she's shaken, the young recruit, the one she calls Rolex Boy is amongst them. This will be hard on Dawes. The first time you see a dead comrade is always difficult. Molly has thrown herself into life here so wholeheartedly that this was almost inevitable, but I still wish she didn't have to go through it. At least she'll soon be out of here, maybe being home with her family will help.
Once she has checked all the bodies 2 section stand down, providing cover while the Afghan forces check over the scene and move the bodies. I work with Azizi to ensure replacement personnel remain at the checkpoint and to alert the FOB of our return. Azizi is a very competent soldier, I'm sure this has been crucial to the relatively easy time we've had on this tour. There's still some points of concern amongst his company, but on the whole they are a promising bunch. This incident has the possibility to extend our stay at the FOB a while longer, it will all depend on finding out what happened here and the quality of any replacements.
Smurf looks freaked out. He's jumpy and trying to calm his nerves with a fag. Like that's going to help. How anyone can smoke with all this dust and shit in their lungs is beyond me. He must be up to 40 a day now. He needs to cut down and chill the fuck out. Nerves can be infectious. If he don't calm down soon the whole section will be a jumble of nerves and stress. Jumpy soldiers and guns are not a good mix.
What if this was green on green? Everyone will be worried about that. They'll worry about our safety back at the FOB. If one of the Afghans did this to their own then they wouldn't think twice about doing the same to us. My money would be on Sohail, he's well dodgy. Always glaring at us, whispering away. My Pashto isn't up to much, but I catch the gist of some stuff. He doesn't like having women in the army that's for sure.
Smurf is wondering if our leave will still happen. If anyone needs to get away from here it's Smurf. Mind you, right now all I feel like is a cuppa and a cuddle from my mum. I still don't know if I want to leave the lads here though, especially now. God, Rolex boy must have had a mum. She's gonna be getting a visit or call from someone soon. That poor lady. She's going about her day, having tea, cooking dinner, doing whatever she does and bam, everything is going to change. Will she see him before they bury him? I hope not, I hope she doesn't get to see that some bastard shot him in the back. I hope he went quickly. I hope he didn't suffer for hours, the life slowly trickling from him. One more angry grieving family. This country has created too many of them.
