Army's 'soft knock' greeted by eerie calm
By CHRISTIE BLATCHFORD Thursday, December 21, 2006
Article Link
CHRISTIE BLATCHFORD recounts a strange day for Canadian and Afghan troops
HOWZ-E-MADAD, AFGHANISTAN -- It is early days yet, but Omer Lavoie may just get his wish.
The commanding officer of the Canadian battle group here wanted a "soft knock" out of NATO's Operation Baaz Tsuka (Falcon's Summit) and that's just the way it began here yesterday.
A massive convoy of hundreds of Canadian, Afghan National Army soldiers and Afghan National Police in armoured vehicles and tanks rolled into the village of Howz-e-Madad early yesterday without a shot being fired, and reports from other countries involved in the operation paint a broad picture of the Taliban offering very little resistance anywhere, although there are some unconfirmed reports that a group has holed up in the nearby village of Sangasar, just four kilometres to the southeast.
It may have been the weirdest "soft knock" ever.
Throughout the day, there were jarring moments -- virtually surrounded by tanks, Light Armoured Vehicles and heavily armed soldiers, two camels carrying dried marijuana plants crossed the valley; a man arrived with a corpse in his car looking for the village graveyard; some Howz-e-Madad residents turned up with fresh bread for the soldiers but adamantly refused to accept any money for it. Others posed for pictures and then giggled when photographers showed them the images, while still others glared at the foreigners, their anger evident.
For the Canadian combat team here, who have been fighting insurgents in southern Afghanistan since arriving last August, the calm that greeted them was almost unprecedented and even spooky.
Taking up secure positions on the wide Arghandab River plain, the Canadians swiftly walked up to meet the local ANP chief, whose men set up a bypass to divert regular traffic away from the area, and began preparing the ground to build a new vehicle checkpoint for the ANP.
Another contingent of Canucks, the CIMIC (for Civilian-Military Co-operation) from the Kandahar Provincial Reconstruction Team office and headed by Chief Warrant Officer Frank Grattan, went in search of village elders for the ritualistic shura (consultation) that is a fixture of all Afghan governance.
A third group, combat engineers, soon moved into place waiting for the signal to start tearing down a small motorcycle repair shop and build a ramp for the checkpoint.
They were joined, as the sun was setting, by a British convoy of engineers, who worked through the night building the vehicle checkpoint and new dormitories for the ANP.
All of this calm, however short-lived, was days if not weeks in the co-ordination, with CIMIC officers and Major Matthew Sprague, the officer commanding for Charles Company, 1st Battalion, The Royal Canadian Regiment, spending hours beforehand making the necessary local contacts and sitting in endless shuras, without which almost nothing happens in Afghanistan.
At first, it seemed there might be no local elders to be found, but the village was not deserted, as Canadians have found so many other times and have learned to read as a signal that women and children have fled and the battle is on.
CWO Grattan beat the bushes a little, as did the local police, and soon enough a leader -- or a man identifying himself as one -- showed up, and promised to round up representatives of 60 families.
Astonishingly, although that fellow never reappeared, about 20 others, some wrapped in blankets against the chill, arrived at the appointed hour and CWO Grattan had his shura. Later, to a growing crowd, the CIMIC team delivered two shipping containers of what's called "material aid" to the elders -- shovels, picks, seeds, blankets, generators, fuel and other essentials. CWO Grattan gave the elders the keys to the containers, and his team left.
Major Sprague was delighted, but leery. "Forgive my cynicism," he said at one point. "But I've figured out, if it doesn't kill you, and something makes sense, it's probably from another country."
Wounded in the Sept. 4 friendly fire strafing that reduced much of his company to ruins, he has learned the hard way that in Afghanistan, what appears to be benign is often not, and that at the least, nothing is as it seems.
Telling friend from foe is the greatest challenge for the Canadians and their NATO partners: There simply are no guarantees, and as Major Sprague said, the common refrain that greeted the first Canadians to arrive here was that "there are no Taliban."
Even those who were displaced, such as Nama Tullah, the 25-year-old mechanic whose small mud, thatched-roof motorcycle repair store -- located right where the ANP district chief decided he wanted the checkpoint -- was eventually reduced to rubble by the engineers, seemed content. CWO Grattan led the negotiations with Mr. Tullah, promising Canadians would compensate him for the loss of his store -- about $1,000 was the figure Mr. Tullah was hoping for -- and he was given time to remove his simple tools and stock. He said through an interpreter that he hopes to open another store, perhaps in Kandahar, about 40 kilometres away.
As dusk fell, with the shocking speed that it does here, the Canadians were dug in to protected positions for the night.
This morning, they are planning to raise a glass -- a careful mix of dark rum, sugar and water -- in the traditional "Ortona" toast, named after one of the RCR's bloodiest battles of the Second World War, to celebrate their storied regiment's 123rd birthday.
So quiet was it yesterday that when Lt.-Col. Lavoie and Colonel John Vance, Commander of the 1st Canadian Brigade, arrived for a quick visit, and Lt.-Col. Lavoie asked whether the rum ration had been pushed forward yet, and was told it had not, he was able to grin and reply, "The . . . rum ration is the main effort now."
cblatchford@globeandmail.com
End
By CHRISTIE BLATCHFORD Thursday, December 21, 2006
Article Link
CHRISTIE BLATCHFORD recounts a strange day for Canadian and Afghan troops
HOWZ-E-MADAD, AFGHANISTAN -- It is early days yet, but Omer Lavoie may just get his wish.
The commanding officer of the Canadian battle group here wanted a "soft knock" out of NATO's Operation Baaz Tsuka (Falcon's Summit) and that's just the way it began here yesterday.
A massive convoy of hundreds of Canadian, Afghan National Army soldiers and Afghan National Police in armoured vehicles and tanks rolled into the village of Howz-e-Madad early yesterday without a shot being fired, and reports from other countries involved in the operation paint a broad picture of the Taliban offering very little resistance anywhere, although there are some unconfirmed reports that a group has holed up in the nearby village of Sangasar, just four kilometres to the southeast.
It may have been the weirdest "soft knock" ever.
Throughout the day, there were jarring moments -- virtually surrounded by tanks, Light Armoured Vehicles and heavily armed soldiers, two camels carrying dried marijuana plants crossed the valley; a man arrived with a corpse in his car looking for the village graveyard; some Howz-e-Madad residents turned up with fresh bread for the soldiers but adamantly refused to accept any money for it. Others posed for pictures and then giggled when photographers showed them the images, while still others glared at the foreigners, their anger evident.
For the Canadian combat team here, who have been fighting insurgents in southern Afghanistan since arriving last August, the calm that greeted them was almost unprecedented and even spooky.
Taking up secure positions on the wide Arghandab River plain, the Canadians swiftly walked up to meet the local ANP chief, whose men set up a bypass to divert regular traffic away from the area, and began preparing the ground to build a new vehicle checkpoint for the ANP.
Another contingent of Canucks, the CIMIC (for Civilian-Military Co-operation) from the Kandahar Provincial Reconstruction Team office and headed by Chief Warrant Officer Frank Grattan, went in search of village elders for the ritualistic shura (consultation) that is a fixture of all Afghan governance.
A third group, combat engineers, soon moved into place waiting for the signal to start tearing down a small motorcycle repair shop and build a ramp for the checkpoint.
They were joined, as the sun was setting, by a British convoy of engineers, who worked through the night building the vehicle checkpoint and new dormitories for the ANP.
All of this calm, however short-lived, was days if not weeks in the co-ordination, with CIMIC officers and Major Matthew Sprague, the officer commanding for Charles Company, 1st Battalion, The Royal Canadian Regiment, spending hours beforehand making the necessary local contacts and sitting in endless shuras, without which almost nothing happens in Afghanistan.
At first, it seemed there might be no local elders to be found, but the village was not deserted, as Canadians have found so many other times and have learned to read as a signal that women and children have fled and the battle is on.
CWO Grattan beat the bushes a little, as did the local police, and soon enough a leader -- or a man identifying himself as one -- showed up, and promised to round up representatives of 60 families.
Astonishingly, although that fellow never reappeared, about 20 others, some wrapped in blankets against the chill, arrived at the appointed hour and CWO Grattan had his shura. Later, to a growing crowd, the CIMIC team delivered two shipping containers of what's called "material aid" to the elders -- shovels, picks, seeds, blankets, generators, fuel and other essentials. CWO Grattan gave the elders the keys to the containers, and his team left.
Major Sprague was delighted, but leery. "Forgive my cynicism," he said at one point. "But I've figured out, if it doesn't kill you, and something makes sense, it's probably from another country."
Wounded in the Sept. 4 friendly fire strafing that reduced much of his company to ruins, he has learned the hard way that in Afghanistan, what appears to be benign is often not, and that at the least, nothing is as it seems.
Telling friend from foe is the greatest challenge for the Canadians and their NATO partners: There simply are no guarantees, and as Major Sprague said, the common refrain that greeted the first Canadians to arrive here was that "there are no Taliban."
Even those who were displaced, such as Nama Tullah, the 25-year-old mechanic whose small mud, thatched-roof motorcycle repair store -- located right where the ANP district chief decided he wanted the checkpoint -- was eventually reduced to rubble by the engineers, seemed content. CWO Grattan led the negotiations with Mr. Tullah, promising Canadians would compensate him for the loss of his store -- about $1,000 was the figure Mr. Tullah was hoping for -- and he was given time to remove his simple tools and stock. He said through an interpreter that he hopes to open another store, perhaps in Kandahar, about 40 kilometres away.
As dusk fell, with the shocking speed that it does here, the Canadians were dug in to protected positions for the night.
This morning, they are planning to raise a glass -- a careful mix of dark rum, sugar and water -- in the traditional "Ortona" toast, named after one of the RCR's bloodiest battles of the Second World War, to celebrate their storied regiment's 123rd birthday.
So quiet was it yesterday that when Lt.-Col. Lavoie and Colonel John Vance, Commander of the 1st Canadian Brigade, arrived for a quick visit, and Lt.-Col. Lavoie asked whether the rum ration had been pushed forward yet, and was told it had not, he was able to grin and reply, "The . . . rum ration is the main effort now."
cblatchford@globeandmail.com
End
