tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75993500633686470142023-11-16T05:40:21.112-05:00Afghan AdventureJasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-12670388870032877582011-06-09T05:47:00.012-04:002011-06-09T15:27:35.171-04:00It Smells Like Victory !<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlgDkZdRaoKuOiGVenF8FjX5S72suu0AmwfPG5F2mRxHVVPY5pm_6_nkJKQhuPmu18zy3-Th2IpcVB7puVmn6c3tFIj3VDTnR6i01RRAW7T5q_gnKxlDDHH1TwnzBHOEYzhZOJ_9JRzs/s1600/AR2011-0180-068.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 155px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlgDkZdRaoKuOiGVenF8FjX5S72suu0AmwfPG5F2mRxHVVPY5pm_6_nkJKQhuPmu18zy3-Th2IpcVB7puVmn6c3tFIj3VDTnR6i01RRAW7T5q_gnKxlDDHH1TwnzBHOEYzhZOJ_9JRzs/s320/AR2011-0180-068.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616186827134970674" /></a><br />I am sitting in my hotel room in Bad Homburg, Germany in a quaint little hotel, taking time to reflect upon the last 9 months.<br /><br />A couple days ago I was climbing on to the airplane out of Kandahar and as I climbed the stairs to the door I took a long look around, felt the warm air on my face and smelled the aroma of jet fuel. The experience was bitter-sweet. The mission had come to an end and I was happy and a little sad all at the same time. But, we were en route to Germany and that felt great. It felt great knowing I'd be home in 3 days!<br /><br />I know I could have blogged more, done a better job of 'keeping in touch' but all I can say about that is that the last few months were more of the same. Not that I was bored, I just didn't feel that there was much newsworthy stuff to write about at the time. I'll apologize quickly and move on.<br /><br />This blog post is going to touch on you. All of you who showed me (and others) support over the past 9 months. I want to acknowledge all of the folks who took time to write me an email, send me a message, respond to my blog or take the time to prepare a care package! I have to say a big thank you to all of you, especially my family whom I scared to death with this endeavour, and to my friends who support me through all of my choices (including the nutty ones). I love and appreciate every one of you.<br /><br />One of the things I discovered about the Canadian people is that they care. They care about our soldiers, they care about our police, fire and ambulance workers. I was moved, on more than one occasion, by the generosity of spirit Canadians have for those serving overseas and abroad. I found people have the need and desire to express gratitude and to show support. I read many cards and letters addressed to "Any Canadian Soldier" and opened gifts at Christmas that were donated by families who are proud of the men and women making the sacrifice to serve in Afghanistan.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAahTYpFme16bRZd9KusPryRSrB5t4cHA_Mn9_F3DWz8GrumEmW4cIfCJfOwfzU_gsJVnt8mfEz6dNCrggxknTdR-tRaj-faSyA6tbk6ILMsI8ls606v87AABpDHFpp4_20wOyNOk9a80/s1600/218835_10150157327111186_626721185_7331278_896440_o.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAahTYpFme16bRZd9KusPryRSrB5t4cHA_Mn9_F3DWz8GrumEmW4cIfCJfOwfzU_gsJVnt8mfEz6dNCrggxknTdR-tRaj-faSyA6tbk6ILMsI8ls606v87AABpDHFpp4_20wOyNOk9a80/s320/218835_10150157327111186_626721185_7331278_896440_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616185365229965218" /></a><br />A shining example of Canadians thinking outside the box occurred when a small cigar shop in Oshawa contacted me in order to show their appreciation and respect to the serving men and women of Afghanistan. <span style="font-weight:bold;">"Victory Cigars"</span> owners Julian Luke and Kevin Newell contacted me through a retired Toronto Police officer with a plan. They felt and had seen a growing desire by their clients to combine their love of fine cigars alongside their wish to show support.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrifEyTCbvT3i4Cg1StZmRFhcUtVMjfe0Y57gDTejmTZKRfy-tTGuCr4UqxRzxnv7rOhwJvJYYdKVzxDLiDi8HjP5ECaaWJml-kCaS0aLiEeVjuYqT-SdAcXTjbywaS8yMEo06VTq-OGM/s1600/P1030726.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrifEyTCbvT3i4Cg1StZmRFhcUtVMjfe0Y57gDTejmTZKRfy-tTGuCr4UqxRzxnv7rOhwJvJYYdKVzxDLiDi8HjP5ECaaWJml-kCaS0aLiEeVjuYqT-SdAcXTjbywaS8yMEo06VTq-OGM/s320/P1030726.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616183132800314978" /></a><br />Victory Cigars held a promotion whereby people could bid on empty cigar boxes, some of which are considered works of art, and with the money collected they would purchase cigars and send them over to Kandahar. The program generated enough interest and participation that they sent over 100 Cuban cigars to the serving members there!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQCDpS60RM-fnxSSb2BgeiZC6dfp-b42QzN42D2nHSU8AXFpZWUMTeQYvBmabN2Xl3pJt2Fb2HtgyUSPWqMxsU7NQqKze4x2ANwsXjxp26aeSfOhmnXzMx8g7x0oDEINlC4i1-CGb4MC0/s1600/P1030810.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQCDpS60RM-fnxSSb2BgeiZC6dfp-b42QzN42D2nHSU8AXFpZWUMTeQYvBmabN2Xl3pJt2Fb2HtgyUSPWqMxsU7NQqKze4x2ANwsXjxp26aeSfOhmnXzMx8g7x0oDEINlC4i1-CGb4MC0/s320/P1030810.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616183621554326210" /></a><br />I had the distinct honour of distributing those donations to many Canadian Forces personnel, including Brigadier General Dean Milner, who, ironically is the President of the Cigar Aficionado Society of Kandahar.<br /><br />Julian, Kevin and Victory Cigars were made honourary members of CASK for their generous gift. I was proud to have been included in the program.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I have to say that I have learned many, many lessons here. Some are cultural, some are spiritual and some are personal. The choice to come to Afghanistan was not difficult in the beginning. Upon closer examination of what I was giving up, things got a little tougher and finally, the light at the end of the tunnel put things back into perspective. I made it through. Because of all of you around me here and all of you in Canada I made it! Thank you all very much!<br /><br />Just before I finish up this post, I'd like to acknowledge all of those who didn't make it home. <br /><br />May we never forget those who made the ultimate sacrifice and their families who were left to soldier on without them.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-45060281942446491792011-05-07T03:39:00.016-04:002011-05-07T12:55:20.943-04:00The More Things ChangeI am sitting here at KAF with my shoulders slightly raised toward my ears, my eyes squinted. I am cringing at the fact I haven't blogged in a very, very long time. I have the usual excuses, poor internet connection, rock n roll lifestyle...you know.<br /><br />I think the problem may be tunnel vision, as in, "light at the end of the tunnel" vision. <br /><br />In large part, my focus is on the end of the mission having spent a good deal of my time at Forward Operating Bases (Walton, Panjwa'i, Dand)...oh did I say Dand?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxZ4tOZhk99_OlZXeiIqi_tU_zPHLwmuFEJOi26yq-jq9TXuPkpAb2ymGephOgXQgQk86YlQweaf3MemT-RCv_Itmfi2GFj-HMDfsjWFA8mDuTVQYO5wrjdQiWDdDGJompnG_Wuemngk/s1600/P1030042.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxZ4tOZhk99_OlZXeiIqi_tU_zPHLwmuFEJOi26yq-jq9TXuPkpAb2ymGephOgXQgQk86YlQweaf3MemT-RCv_Itmfi2GFj-HMDfsjWFA8mDuTVQYO5wrjdQiWDdDGJompnG_Wuemngk/s200/P1030042.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603892116807967298" /></a><br />Yes, it's true, friends, I moved from Panjwa'i District to Dand District and since then have moved to KAF. So let me catch you all up.<br /><br />Just prior to my vacation to Scotland (visiting the newest addition to the clan), Ireland (on St. Patrick's Day) and Egypt (because taking risks is what life is all about) I was asked by higher command to move to another District in Kandahar Province. Dand District. The CivPol guys there were due for a change and IPOB had to fill the spot there, albeit for a very short time. They asked. I answered.<br /><br />So, I loaded up my gear, packed this, tossed that and gave away the other. <br /><br />Believe it or not, you accumulate a lot of "stuff" even here in Afghanistan and it is a royal pain to hump it on and off helicopters. One man, one kit they say. Ironically, the more I moved, the more stuff I had and the smaller the rooms got!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFcicBrVIIzvqvyDXoVmgHh-MI2yVYKqryIyQeml6N8boJOyP4C4Ii5s25qxllDBbrwR9fUyAL4rsxwMGuguXaum2JjGQlYj-2RDg36wi-PSRAaJpcN1tO_qBAcku102u2O5Y_F3A9ZYY/s1600/P1030005.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFcicBrVIIzvqvyDXoVmgHh-MI2yVYKqryIyQeml6N8boJOyP4C4Ii5s25qxllDBbrwR9fUyAL4rsxwMGuguXaum2JjGQlYj-2RDg36wi-PSRAaJpcN1tO_qBAcku102u2O5Y_F3A9ZYY/s200/P1030005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603893523191287554" /></a><br /><br />My time in Dand District was brief and because of that I was unable to strike a chord and build relationships with the Key Leaders of the ANP (an absolute must if one wishes to gain the respect of the Afghans). My job as a mentor had come to an end with my departure from Panjwa'i and I was in Dand acting as a type of "Police Advisor" for the military mentor team there. Overall, not a bad gig, although I would have preferred to have been a little busier. What can ya do?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP0bEfzkoovjfjAbB1auqQqrEgHCxvvy51e0y4BldQDJi5c1GcivfvM-uMNzlloUFQhR_aPhJTNpE_AD4kFQ3aMpo9VtJsvc6DmnJ3blN9pUOwO-aYa_74gB5LT94GJvQXLPFiRPw9lRE/s1600/P1030315.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP0bEfzkoovjfjAbB1auqQqrEgHCxvvy51e0y4BldQDJi5c1GcivfvM-uMNzlloUFQhR_aPhJTNpE_AD4kFQ3aMpo9VtJsvc6DmnJ3blN9pUOwO-aYa_74gB5LT94GJvQXLPFiRPw9lRE/s200/P1030315.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603890741401113826" border="0" /></a>I did manage to get "outside the wire" a couple times and witnessed Afghan ingenuity at work. Here is a street light that has been re-wired to act as an indoor light at one of the Police Check Points. Almost every Afghan I have met has the uncanny ability to re-wire or re-work small appliances or machinery into something more useful or beneficial to him. I'm surprised more of them aren't named MacGyver!<br /><br />I did get to see the military personnel exercise their right to vote! A polling station was set up and the boys lined up to cast their vote. It was organized and impressive (with a great result to boot).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhzDfjurTsF7YBVtdBHPbiGjEPun0nYhivr6vJXkzv5D5IEMtHd1e3f4CVTUvAPlZH4flKggFzqsKLkVD769gayf_7mMqeSe370R2gqK1pUui8w92cEqlxoKGwLHcfhko3AHJOdpwyJc/s1600/P1030015.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhzDfjurTsF7YBVtdBHPbiGjEPun0nYhivr6vJXkzv5D5IEMtHd1e3f4CVTUvAPlZH4flKggFzqsKLkVD769gayf_7mMqeSe370R2gqK1pUui8w92cEqlxoKGwLHcfhko3AHJOdpwyJc/s200/P1030015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603888753073668050" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I know I have said it before in previous posts, but I can't say enough about the military personnel I have had the opportunity to work with. From the regular force men and women to the reservists, they have all been incredibly professional, dedicated and friendly. Dand was no different. I have met and made lifelong friendships with some of the amazing people I've had the pleasure to work with.<br /><br />After about a month I loaded up my gear, packed this, tossed that and gave away the other. You see a trend here?<br /><br />So. I landed at KAF anticipating my last leave block where I currently have plans to visit friends on this side of the world while I have the chance. This place has grown even larger in population since we first landed in September 2010. The rest is pretty much as it was back then. It's hot, dusty, noisy, dusty, busy and dusty.<br /><br />One of the more poignant memories of my visit to the Middle East will always be the assassination of Osama Bin Laden. On the very day the Taliban warned of mass attacks against International Security Assistance Force, the Al Qaeda (and terrorists everywhere) were dealt a blow to their morale. Kudos to U.S Navy Seal Team 6. And don't worry about the lefty liberals who love to criticize from their comfy little armchairs. You did the world a service and we are indebted to you!(let me just step down off my soap-box).<br /><br />On a more positive note, when I get back from vacation I'll have about another week in theater before we head to Germany to "de-compress"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZykqoddeuX5c89SsCRkIGPNeduPZpqceJyBmfrKSc7wMkUbjoCoUIvNaH7OOisWsXZpIf9OQiO-dWm79MrVWMpuDw3SLgZcnmoQG85SJSME8ZkS9bcTHZbzIGJ5pxwrgEFsIfTfoPkg/s1600/P1030078.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZykqoddeuX5c89SsCRkIGPNeduPZpqceJyBmfrKSc7wMkUbjoCoUIvNaH7OOisWsXZpIf9OQiO-dWm79MrVWMpuDw3SLgZcnmoQG85SJSME8ZkS9bcTHZbzIGJ5pxwrgEFsIfTfoPkg/s200/P1030078.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603894001796954290" /></a><br />It's funny. Even though the days tend to drag on over here, the time has seemed to fly by.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-77328876862169335322011-02-26T03:42:00.028-05:002011-02-26T07:41:54.146-05:00It Ain't All Kittens and Rainbows......but every once and awhile it is!<br /><br />A couple of weeks ago this CivPol Roto passed the half way point of the mission. The day came and went like any other day here with maybe a little jump for joy in the back of my head. I have learned that 9 months is indeed a long time. But, like they say, it's all downhill from here.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuLFBAOLDWmr-SdgLy6mNruVDKeaNKnvnyvhy1P_BofqVGcc_5p-cYzO2dB1rpjGHairy4hU2VLfo_ejqskCOXIN7A8poDj4PNlsBwdeb1r9Bq9mPkeRmofjYbYnqvh-OTbxwcanDNIQ/s1600/P1020793.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuLFBAOLDWmr-SdgLy6mNruVDKeaNKnvnyvhy1P_BofqVGcc_5p-cYzO2dB1rpjGHairy4hU2VLfo_ejqskCOXIN7A8poDj4PNlsBwdeb1r9Bq9mPkeRmofjYbYnqvh-OTbxwcanDNIQ/s200/P1020793.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577925208844581554" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMLEAJKWqDIp7lCnyaZNZrMPbOM3AO9n8_BCndlMEt09G_1znS1Ak1c368n-ZAnIZUASZw6jB8_o6O3-xh66Dp7k0GrdIoUB95iD7KqEqCO4_JolAs6irlAM5MmLfFs2jU-2G6AkoCsQ/s1600/P1020794.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMLEAJKWqDIp7lCnyaZNZrMPbOM3AO9n8_BCndlMEt09G_1znS1Ak1c368n-ZAnIZUASZw6jB8_o6O3-xh66Dp7k0GrdIoUB95iD7KqEqCO4_JolAs6irlAM5MmLfFs2jU-2G6AkoCsQ/s200/P1020794.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577928096895662546" /></a>The weather has been absolutely crazy. It's get pretty cold and windy here in our winter months. The temperature even gets below zero! The rain is torrential when it comes and is relentless when finding it's way through the cracks of my man made shack. There is a waterfall in my room every time it rains and I can't help but think what a feature like that would cost me in Toronto!<br /><br />Often with mentoring the Afghan Police we feel like we have made some inroads and gained some ground only to be slammed back to reality a short time later. One of the most curious and dangerous habits they have is related to explosive finds. Despite of their training and several warnings from Coalition Forces the ANP almost always bring explosive devices back to their headquarters. As you can imagine, these "trophies" pose a real threat to the public, the Afghan police and, if I am to be zealous, to us!<br /><br />For some reason, the accolades and respect the Afghans receive from higher command and one another outweigh the danger of moving the volatile substances.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaom58a73jGpV1XJoCpenEBP1FKWzgN40HS7biSZEOcrnpyo9wVCMjkIdCLbAxRPaTyEVc8HviSGvKzdIz_lxOcU6z2A9svQvVZMtS-t7eqNvQ-vHRww656p03G_cwFOUuDLYTz5-KMmU/s1600/P1020394.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaom58a73jGpV1XJoCpenEBP1FKWzgN40HS7biSZEOcrnpyo9wVCMjkIdCLbAxRPaTyEVc8HviSGvKzdIz_lxOcU6z2A9svQvVZMtS-t7eqNvQ-vHRww656p03G_cwFOUuDLYTz5-KMmU/s200/P1020394.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577940619560053010" /></a>I, personally, have had a proud Afghan Patrolman present me an anti personnel mine, had to cordon a small IED and been exposed to the all of BIPs (Blow In Place) of several dangerous IED components by Canadian Engineers.<br /><br />The last IED cache find had several 20 litre jugs of HME (home made explosive), a few pressure cookers and detonation chord, all of which were carefully placed in the back of a police truck and driven cross-country right to our front door step.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqAyJ06JgNVs716cHW380iccyCGL_iR8astQo8qVKVHiMUWbMaU6FvznUxLpGnOup0BGMHxNz6M2XRQg2ryDS3CwCLm_AEuNO1mluGR6ZkGR3jIQcQg1oTLZ69Y75qjklTjpEGHirdLY/s1600/kaboom.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqAyJ06JgNVs716cHW380iccyCGL_iR8astQo8qVKVHiMUWbMaU6FvznUxLpGnOup0BGMHxNz6M2XRQg2ryDS3CwCLm_AEuNO1mluGR6ZkGR3jIQcQg1oTLZ69Y75qjklTjpEGHirdLY/s200/kaboom.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577942225114165202" /></a> As with all of these demonstrations of success, the Canadian military engineers attend, take control and blow up the components in the safest way possible. The last one, pictured on the right, when destroyed blew out all of our lights and knocked everything of the shelves...not to mention jarred me to the bone!<br /><br /><br />As we negotiate through day to day operations here we are faced with daily challenges related to culture. An IED find, for the Afghans, is a reason to celebrate and demonstrate their courage and experience. The danger of moving it is secondary to the positive reinforcement they receive from their higher authority. Often times this causes a rift between we Canadians and the Afghans. The practice of moving IED components is slowly coming to an end as we reinforce the safer way to dispose of these threats.<br /><br />One of the most impressive and inspiring stories I have from Panjwa'i doesn't relate to the war. It speaks to kindness, teamwork and courage. Not courage in the face of the enemy but courage to take action when you may be in over your head.<br /><br />Relaying this story I run the risk of losing any street cred I may have had for being a heartless big city cop, but if I am lucky, you'll think there may be only a sliver of compassion in this black heart! :p<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2Ny3LxyEY3sw3jyXL41OdwXkafh2rKT2EBZUHd5WeaY-cXsRSTXZCoA5vxJWvbl9iETj1EnRZEr1rWIRnd1ml0YH96Fs1igl_QmAqgykN_3yXHztdzS221be_V2sX0erAWY7YuQeu5U/s1600/MA+and+Pussyfoot.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 164px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2Ny3LxyEY3sw3jyXL41OdwXkafh2rKT2EBZUHd5WeaY-cXsRSTXZCoA5vxJWvbl9iETj1EnRZEr1rWIRnd1ml0YH96Fs1igl_QmAqgykN_3yXHztdzS221be_V2sX0erAWY7YuQeu5U/s200/MA+and+Pussyfoot.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577954547839816098" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQSNiARTeZHN2y-muUqVsCl8EO9xEGwD2oiD2-Yl8Rewg4tg_TJ_fwRPpyKZfcAG156iWc5F89XORpkr8q7Fd-NmPTxBrlz0j-Etg1t8OETgihF1Pqrmo9gu4MJS5QOr56fpegNR0xug/s1600/P1020514.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 193px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQSNiARTeZHN2y-muUqVsCl8EO9xEGwD2oiD2-Yl8Rewg4tg_TJ_fwRPpyKZfcAG156iWc5F89XORpkr8q7Fd-NmPTxBrlz0j-Etg1t8OETgihF1Pqrmo9gu4MJS5QOr56fpegNR0xug/s200/P1020514.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577956361422518306" /></a>Before you read on I want you recall the Looney Tunes cartoon with bulldog Marc Anthony and his kitten friend Pussyfoot.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">*special thanks to the cat whisperer for this photo*<br /></span><br />A short time ago we had a kitten take up residence in our compound. He was annoying and cute and playful as kittens often are. We named him Major (Pain) because he is such a pain in the ass.<br /><br />Our little friend managed to injure himself in a precarious area of his body. Boys, if you are faint of heart read no further!<br /><br />Somehow Major had managed to cut open his tiny nutsack. His beans had found their way outside the their home and were dangling exposed and looking very uncomfortable as you might well imagine. After a day or so of parental worry about an infection a few of the soldiers and myself sprung into action.<br /><br />Armed with the internet and some medical supplies we froze the Major's minors and removed them, placing the tube back inside the pouch before sewing him up.<br /><br />My role, and that of another man,(it took both of us) was to hold him still while the team medics worked their magic with the scalpel and needle and thread.<br /><br />The entire procedure took about 45 minutes where there was shortness of breath, heavy sweating and teary eyes...good thing I recover quickly!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidgCtdLtayhlbBxDP1ZQtb5MhVmstMrwOSX1-Hj-YRk8W-QyaPRHV1UGrtJU8JtulHKIqBHFkqTiaWOYY5OuRrTcsN_ZP218tBN39bCw2pIAp_mPtr40f7AcUia_EDzCPNv3YDGlQewyE/s1600/P1020684.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 109px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidgCtdLtayhlbBxDP1ZQtb5MhVmstMrwOSX1-Hj-YRk8W-QyaPRHV1UGrtJU8JtulHKIqBHFkqTiaWOYY5OuRrTcsN_ZP218tBN39bCw2pIAp_mPtr40f7AcUia_EDzCPNv3YDGlQewyE/s200/P1020684.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577960698384026354" /></a><br />I am happy to report that a month later Major is still running around and annoying us night and day. He is happy, healthy and affectionate while continuing to be Major Pain.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-4508024695095104052011-01-21T04:27:00.012-05:002011-01-21T07:41:07.718-05:00Thin Blue Line<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4dFDoj_0Rjti4hhyphenhyphenfaYubPFzTUykPbZXVbFUYx1wdE3_z6tA9RWa4a6BgAct2wnIcPGzHawkYa63sr-sZpRzwlL4o-sdOUVjzujiAxnWeZwc3Fyf_Zwdap8NhJnk4AR0iKMnKsKIJnA/s1600/thin+blue+line.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4dFDoj_0Rjti4hhyphenhyphenfaYubPFzTUykPbZXVbFUYx1wdE3_z6tA9RWa4a6BgAct2wnIcPGzHawkYa63sr-sZpRzwlL4o-sdOUVjzujiAxnWeZwc3Fyf_Zwdap8NhJnk4AR0iKMnKsKIJnA/s200/thin+blue+line.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564606229103217986" /></a><br />It's no coincidence that police use the colour blue as their moniker. I mean, I know it's the colour of our uniforms but that is a simplistic way to look at it. The Thin Blue Line is a reference to we, in blue uniforms, standing between the good people in the community and those who would do them harm. But moreover, being True Blue is a reference to having Loyalty. That's what being Blue means to me. Loyal to my family, loyal to my friends, loyal to those I'm sworn to serve and protect. Ryan Russell was loyal. <br /><br />Ironically, being Blue also means to be unhappy and it is with a heavy heart that I dedicate this post to Sergeant Ryan Russell of the Toronto Police Service. Ryan paid the ultimate price for his dedication, leadership and service to the community. And we shall always remember him as a hero because of it.<br /><br />The man was a son, husband, father and a brother to those of us who wear a uniform each day.<br /><br />I was touched by the outpouring of emotion shown by fellow officers and emergency personnel. What's more impressive to me was the public outcry, anger and dismay over the tragic event which transformed to love and support for Ryan's family and for those of us who must soldier on without him.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9n0nBFWKs14bNLuaDuFAjikz6ENUzeaXUJYnQWWQDHIBugDcH7iACZL2kZusSrIMBZ8rA6hL3EJ4OK7Wuk3QAhoDgFXsXDSpRbTIn5EcpwEcRSAHjm-Lmg4_hJcsPSrrmRVQJbfHc54E/s1600/university+ave.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9n0nBFWKs14bNLuaDuFAjikz6ENUzeaXUJYnQWWQDHIBugDcH7iACZL2kZusSrIMBZ8rA6hL3EJ4OK7Wuk3QAhoDgFXsXDSpRbTIn5EcpwEcRSAHjm-Lmg4_hJcsPSrrmRVQJbfHc54E/s200/university+ave.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564607111317142130" /></a><br />There is a time tested and true bond between policemen. We don't all love one another, nor are we all the best of friends. But I will say that we respect each other. Not necessarily for what we have accomplished or for how well we do our job but for the very reason we mourn the loss of our brother. I can look any police officer in the eye and know that they would lay down their life for me and, moreover, for you.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl5ZzpEO-V925CIHM9-qhdbxgj_V1Gj88FSc0f6vQ60KXL6ide7zcD9midLkdFOJw-bsviJtuKNBiC9YBT34BOo63j62NHyCD54DIQgkgBrC59rvgHzSvkoEtjmhOesR4sA49-swO_YIY/s1600/pall+bearers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl5ZzpEO-V925CIHM9-qhdbxgj_V1Gj88FSc0f6vQ60KXL6ide7zcD9midLkdFOJw-bsviJtuKNBiC9YBT34BOo63j62NHyCD54DIQgkgBrC59rvgHzSvkoEtjmhOesR4sA49-swO_YIY/s200/pall+bearers.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564609982391375362" /></a><br />Over the course of the last several days I have received many emails or Facebook messages from friends, family and other coppers. People were reaching out across the world to offer support and share kind words of love and respect. Being so far away it's easy to feel disconnected from the very people who understand how it feels to lose a brother in arms. But those feelings of loss are felt from any distance. The Thin Blue Line stretched all the way here to Afghanistan to offer condolences and to share in the grief. I am truly grateful for that.<br /><br />People over here and back in Canada were often curious as to whether or not I knew Ryan. The answer is yes. Not in the the traditional way. We didn't go to Ontario Police College together, we weren't in the same squad and we didn't even play on the same hockey team. But I knew him. I knew him in the way I know every other police officer. All I have to do is look inside myself and I see Ryan as does any police officer. We are all similar in spirit.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis40akIzXQa8_lsByQgZNsLFCO4kXuwayLlh07n2cyQUnfLNyCt9ACA5KDW0bjy8EQvWbvY0giv6sEGQbp7LB9EOZWDDvoqoSHW5GOBQ8ROZK-FxwIRTSsamdARl-uuQfh9z_8DSpVyC0/s1600/ryan+russell.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 129px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis40akIzXQa8_lsByQgZNsLFCO4kXuwayLlh07n2cyQUnfLNyCt9ACA5KDW0bjy8EQvWbvY0giv6sEGQbp7LB9EOZWDDvoqoSHW5GOBQ8ROZK-FxwIRTSsamdARl-uuQfh9z_8DSpVyC0/s200/ryan+russell.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564611163320561634" /></a><br />My friend and past partner Sean Thrush, currently with Police Dog Services wrote a few words about knowing Ryan Russell on Facebook. If you know Sean, check out his note "Did you know the officer?". It was extremely well written and pretty much sums up how I feel when people ask if I knew the man.<br /><br />Lastly, I am reminded of a day I was in the USPX at KAF where I had the honour of meeting the father of fallen Canadian soldier Pvt Kevin McKay. He is a Toronto Fire Captain and approached me upon seeing the Toronto Police Service flash on my shoulder. He was here in Afghanistan for a service dedicated to his boy. We spoke for almost 45 minutes minutes and all I remember saying to him over and over was, "Thank you for your sacrifice". I admired his courage and strength. Mr. McKay's son made the sacrifice to be here and paid the ultimate price. But it is his father who lives with the loss everyday.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnv8RiBIHAbHtDllsFC6z0xFkIYUKGky32-BPs3lDf-gH7HGhhJy4MVA4BdXJnY9rlMoEhUVYsKWWkivIg8lfzzzwR4-zoKEeZUnNPPxVgVgvkyiFPaT3cxcIQeotzhfJO0mknSvYqXM/s1600/170114_170718406306483_169086696469654_365332_1349553_o.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnv8RiBIHAbHtDllsFC6z0xFkIYUKGky32-BPs3lDf-gH7HGhhJy4MVA4BdXJnY9rlMoEhUVYsKWWkivIg8lfzzzwR4-zoKEeZUnNPPxVgVgvkyiFPaT3cxcIQeotzhfJO0mknSvYqXM/s200/170114_170718406306483_169086696469654_365332_1349553_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564608949194103842" /></a>Ryan's wife Christine and son Nolan will always have to live with the sacrifice Ryan made. I want to thank Ryan for his dedication to our profession. He has made us all look incredibly good while reminding us what's on the line. More importantly, on behalf of all police officers serving here in Afghanistan, I want to acknowledge his family for sharing Ryan with us and to say "Thank you for your sacrifice".Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-76959090104240764702010-12-24T12:49:00.005-05:002010-12-25T03:25:52.645-05:00When The Man Comes AroundIt is Christmas Eve here in the Panjwa'i District of Kandahar Province in Afghanistan and I have finally reconciled what this blog post is to be about. <br /><br />The Man. <br /><br />Santa Clause? No. <br /><br />Jesus? No. (but let's remember what Christmas is all about folks!) <br /><br />I'm talking about The Man. <br /><br />Me.<br /><br />Picture me on my bunk, barefoot, atop a bright red comforter (for Christmas) in tan combat pants and my new blue hoody with my laptop ironically placed on my...(wait for it)...LAP. <br /><br />I have been absent from my writing duties in large part due to my HLTA (Home Leave Travel Allowance) which saw me thankfully uprooted from my dusty shack in the south east of Afghanistan to the familiar (and comforting) cold of Canada. Three blissful weeks of Canadian cold.<br /><br />My social, eventful and somewhat painful 36 hour trek home from Kandahar Airfield to Dubai to London Heathrow to Toronto to Milton (don't ask) to my hometown was all worthwhile when I stopped into my sister's place and was met by the shrilling shrieks and the spinning in circles of my two nephews Hayden and Cohen! Either they had a lot of sugar or they were happy to see their Uncle JJ. <br /><br />I'd like to think the latter because it gets me right here, ya know?<br /><br />After much deliberation and debate, and a little counsel, I have decided to make this blog about what it is like for me, and other people serving I imagine, to be away from home at this time of year. That is to say, I am going to tell you what it <span style="font-style:italic;">feels</span> like to be <span style="font-style:italic;">here</span> knowing most everyone I love is <span style="font-style:italic;">there</span> and together.<br /><br />Now, don't go calling the therapist or anything. I just watched "The Notebook" so I'm hoping for a little latitude! :p<br /><br />Going home for my first leave block was an obvious choice so close to Christmas, and let's face it, I have put my loved ones through the level of stress reserved for families of the military. I was pretty cavalier about my adventure with a slight err of invincibility (see what I did there?)<br /><br />I guess what I didn't realize was that, upon my return, I would find myself powerfully drawn to home. I had taken for granted those things which were common place only 4 months ago. My family. My friends. My life. Until recently, I didn't see the <span style="font-style:italic;">sacrifice</span> people were thanking me for.<br /><br />I discovered during my time away from Afghanistan that those whom you love and they who love you back have little difficulty expressing what you mean to them. They do things like send care packages, pick you up (or drop you off) at the airport, they cook your favourite food, let you crash on their couch, they hold your hand until it sweats or they squeeze you just a little bit tighter and longer knowing that you will be heading back there soon. Sometimes they just say the words. <br /><br />Perhaps being so far away from home and in this volatile place I was more affected by the affections of my friends and family more than I anticipated. Perhaps I am at an age where I am getting more sentimental, I mean, I do cry during long-distance phone call commercials...who doesn't? <br /><br />But I <span style="font-style:italic;">was</span> affected.<br /><br />I have always had a keen sense of adventure. I would decide to up and go and then I would. No problem. <br /><br />But this time was different. I came to Afghanistan with the thrill of the upcoming challenge and prepared myself in almost every way I could imagine. What I hadn't prepared myself for was the feeling I had as I climbed back onto the plane to come back here. A feeling I still have but is slowly waning. Plainly put, it was tough. Really tough. <br /><br />Don't get me wrong. I made the decision to come to Afghanistan. I don't have any regrets about that decision. But in fairness to myself and to you , the readers, I wanted to post about all aspects of the mission. It ain't all "kittens and rainbows" or, I guess in this case, "kickin' ass and takin' names". <br /><br />I have been back over a week now and I have managed to kick myself in the ass (already have the name) to get re-motivated for the mission. I was forced to take some of the medicinal advice I have doled out to friends over the years. You know what I mean. The kind of advice they make those motivational posters about...<br /><br />The bottom-line is I sincerely miss so many of you and I wish you all the very best during this Christmas season!<br /><br />Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-85878999771025690252010-11-15T03:47:00.020-05:002010-12-24T16:57:58.466-05:00Out of the Fryin' Panj...And into the fire!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUoqd3z9sXV-GZ1ulwVJHGLpWDLlLrk8h_VocQwe0ja-KdG2Ynyx8WVxgLzwYM7OePZgQDn_KdBUMNk58d0qf6slK7v9L2KZq1ozKJqleoI1hziMUnRMpT3phccVwFgv4ZnRoRXX-eYRo/s1600/P1010685.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUoqd3z9sXV-GZ1ulwVJHGLpWDLlLrk8h_VocQwe0ja-KdG2Ynyx8WVxgLzwYM7OePZgQDn_KdBUMNk58d0qf6slK7v9L2KZq1ozKJqleoI1hziMUnRMpT3phccVwFgv4ZnRoRXX-eYRo/s200/P1010685.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539716410673528834" /></a> I arrived safely in the Panjwa'i District via Chinook Helicopter near Kandahar City and close the Horn of Panjwa'i where the Canadian Battle Group is currently focusing operations to help build stability in the region.<br /><br />Panjwa'i is now considered to be in the "Hold" phase of operations and safe for civilian mentors. It wasn't that long ago that a Canadian helicopter went down very near here where all of the passengers survived, thanks to the very men with whom I am now attached.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKYIjsQ0sA25bxGT-s06s32ABeUHQtbMS_ZtLcq2BqqeNmsiqpmFwb8x9xRcxv2R4UCDk5D3hSH9ojZPSRLTHm3i-SatOBZyxzSK-3ATfPzU_To7ATqqS0ojfazTfvxvcxzz5xGGGW34/s1600/P1010541.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKYIjsQ0sA25bxGT-s06s32ABeUHQtbMS_ZtLcq2BqqeNmsiqpmFwb8x9xRcxv2R4UCDk5D3hSH9ojZPSRLTHm3i-SatOBZyxzSK-3ATfPzU_To7ATqqS0ojfazTfvxvcxzz5xGGGW34/s200/P1010541.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539724879325405490" /></a>We (another CIVPOL fella who came in a few days after me) have joined up with a compliment of Military Police and other Canadian Forces personnel who make up my new team. The POMLT is a group of military who specialize in Police Operations. The group is comprised of a variety of ages and experience. Some of the guys here are the ripe age of 20 years and have seen more violence in 7 months than many of us will see in a lifetime. What's truly impressive is the manner by which they handle it. They take it all in stride, like another day at the office, except in this office they rely on one another for everything including support through traumatic experiences. There is definitely a strong sense of family here.<br /><br />My new role is to assist with the mentoring of the District Chief of Police (who we dubbed the Afghan Robin Hood without the forest) and his Deputy and Operations Officer. These men are all younger than me (who isn't these days) and in charge of the Afghan Police with their boots on the ground. I am involved with day to day operations of the uniformed police in Panjwa'i and am doing the type of work I was hoping to do when I decided to toss my name in the hat.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCWs7MHPr-OSD7vgSaKi9yPLF1GM5v9AV9fyQU3ETlBXlzTk1mNtHfMnEQv2S5Mr5UiOKpd9bUPt27Mo8onFOJFT-pxDuc3z2_yv7h57TJm4JM7pA1WY78_gUlXEFGSsnVbuczJgXnt8w/s1600/P1010773.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCWs7MHPr-OSD7vgSaKi9yPLF1GM5v9AV9fyQU3ETlBXlzTk1mNtHfMnEQv2S5Mr5UiOKpd9bUPt27Mo8onFOJFT-pxDuc3z2_yv7h57TJm4JM7pA1WY78_gUlXEFGSsnVbuczJgXnt8w/s200/P1010773.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540211619954488162" /></a>The part of the compound the POMLT (and CIVPOL) live in is really small. There is a makeshift gym, a kitchen and a tiny bathroom. All the comforts of home. Well, except the gym is in a tent and made up of wood and nails, the kitchen is run by an American cook, the bathroom has no toilette or hot water. I live in the guard tower (in the bottom) in a cozy one room suite which is about 35 square feet, plenty of room for me (and my ROOMMATE)!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi1WU4Cp8oaCICaDrWEnoWkhUBZHwqg0cFMo4k6iUOKkBmTO9Vz7AVjXzqP1LiDpbzx2OqwcNho3uphjov185AUMzD8nJd551i3nwYatxpKe2Y2aSBCaYggrmS8Nx-GIIAtD20hhxeRPE/s1600/P1010779.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi1WU4Cp8oaCICaDrWEnoWkhUBZHwqg0cFMo4k6iUOKkBmTO9Vz7AVjXzqP1LiDpbzx2OqwcNho3uphjov185AUMzD8nJd551i3nwYatxpKe2Y2aSBCaYggrmS8Nx-GIIAtD20hhxeRPE/s200/P1010779.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539729158102083234" /></a>Thaaaat's right. At least he's a Toronto copper...and a great cuddler :p <br /><br />Oh, I forgot to mention the area in which we live is right beside the (HLS)helicopter landing strip and, literally, as I am typing this there is a Chinook landing spitting gravel all over the place while 2 Blackhawks fly around for protection. No big deal.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPuJciIAHytWg4q64WYaupQX4cPITYlDcezpR6SoxUOFXyF7ufnIeKUCBbcFNuusGlwYqzs7PPwvp2cI0mXnegI9FJ4BAd00nUYTvdS4kvzOGjYrkBfoNjnGC4PWOnRXx-SpyrtI_EQ60/s1600/SAM_0143.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPuJciIAHytWg4q64WYaupQX4cPITYlDcezpR6SoxUOFXyF7ufnIeKUCBbcFNuusGlwYqzs7PPwvp2cI0mXnegI9FJ4BAd00nUYTvdS4kvzOGjYrkBfoNjnGC4PWOnRXx-SpyrtI_EQ60/s200/SAM_0143.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540203364765422514" /></a>My partner and I have had the opportunity to go out to a site for a future PSS (Police Sub Station) while mentoring the DCoP (District Chief of Police). We walked a short, dusty distance from a secure compound to an area in a little village nearby. The people greeted us with friendly "Salaams" with their right hands over their hearts as we passed through. The kids followed us along our route speaking broken English asking for pens or water. One kid must have recognized me because he said, "Hey, Ugly, gimme a pen!" Aren't they sooo cute?<br /><br />The work done here by the MPs to this point is impressive. There is progress being made. The right people are being put into key roles and measures of success are foreseeable in the near future. I hope that my partner and myself will be able to continue with the "game plan" through the transition from Roto 9 to Roto 10. In the following weeks the English speaking troops are being replaced, in large part, by the French speaking military, primarily the 22nd (VanDoos). I better brush up on my Franglais! Je m'appelle Jason et j'habite dans la sac du golfe! Uh...ya.<br /><br />"EID MUBARAK!" <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58gFGYC88V3qGUPsJMrSS9hi72-zugl8ALWCZjeJjbYDPkU87aLnKIzNZwdUa1cpLiT2XfnRsmBzWTl7wbde0_wtdv60CqeHO9MPJr_RMzY1DCeSqvQTVQ6hrgC6MgnLu44KRIYkiOV0/s1600/P1010652.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58gFGYC88V3qGUPsJMrSS9hi72-zugl8ALWCZjeJjbYDPkU87aLnKIzNZwdUa1cpLiT2XfnRsmBzWTl7wbde0_wtdv60CqeHO9MPJr_RMzY1DCeSqvQTVQ6hrgC6MgnLu44KRIYkiOV0/s200/P1010652.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540143759423012018" /></a>Today marks the beginning of Eid Al Adha (Eid of Sacrifice), which is celebrated on the 10th day of the 12th month and I'm told is a little like Christmas where there is the giving of gifts etc. Believe it or not we gave our counterparts a sheep to offer as a gift to all of our Muslim brothers. Eid is a 3 to 4 day celebration whereby the Muslims are permitted by Allah to slaughter and feast...so about that sheep....ya...we ate it.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-23977816445511885772010-11-05T08:18:00.010-04:002010-11-08T12:53:13.594-05:00A Rolling Stone...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichxf7DHNb5lEecE38aBR-hLwd9yoj7oQo6_FAvp4m_-UfJKVVV_DAc9EDuYZGfLAvCpJamDDm6nLOnpeJ4-5nF3qLPaCSh4juFwnYPoLhnGcC3W0w7u4KAQJQuTBrezAvlPW_AsZ9B40/s1600/IMG_3212.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichxf7DHNb5lEecE38aBR-hLwd9yoj7oQo6_FAvp4m_-UfJKVVV_DAc9EDuYZGfLAvCpJamDDm6nLOnpeJ4-5nF3qLPaCSh4juFwnYPoLhnGcC3W0w7u4KAQJQuTBrezAvlPW_AsZ9B40/s200/IMG_3212.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537236437347606930" /></a><br />The move from FOB Walton came swiftly. On the day I was meant to depart I was ramming my sleeping bag into a garbage bag worried that all of my stuff was going to be tied to the side of one of our TLAVs (Tracked Light Armoured Vehicle). Anything that is fixed along the outside of these beasts ends up covered in beige talcum powder.<br /><br />So there I was, in my private, amazing, comfortable room loaded down with full fighting order, helmet tipped forward into my eyes, backpack bursting at the seams, rifle slung over one shoulder and a black garbage bag slung over the other like Ole St. Nick. I swear I could hear my knees creaking as I staggered along to the rally point.<br /><br />As we climbed aboard our tank-like trucks and the back ramp closed up and we started to roll I said a Good-Bye to FOB Walton. I left behind my little Afghan buddy, some friends, both CIVPOL and American military. I left behind high calorie foods, over-populated bathrooms, nightly small arms fire and 3 a.m. explosions and mortar fire. I joked with the guys that when I get home I am going to need someone to stand in the washroom with me in order to avoid "stage fright" and a "Sounds of War" CD to get me to sleep. What did Robert Duval say in Apocolypse Now? "I love the smell of Napalm in the morning!" Okay, maybe it wasn't THAT bad.<br /><br />We rolled on to KAF where we transitioned from our armoured truck to 'soft skinned' SUVs. We dumped our gear in the rear and rolled toward the JRAC (Joint Regional Afghan Command Center).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXGcrUjKBICAuhZ3VIP6rJf2kpL8ujT0JOl3CVu8LGhqvZePTiZktBg04H3rCTKlYFXSusqLL3ZAJNST2gTFro3_8GK3njVRFJxJsiwKym0yiWPl16kTGrHwjQgM9epW6yOkd7q6DZNMI/s1600/P1010061.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXGcrUjKBICAuhZ3VIP6rJf2kpL8ujT0JOl3CVu8LGhqvZePTiZktBg04H3rCTKlYFXSusqLL3ZAJNST2gTFro3_8GK3njVRFJxJsiwKym0yiWPl16kTGrHwjQgM9epW6yOkd7q6DZNMI/s200/P1010061.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536067752556895874" /></a>The JRAC. This is an ISAF sponsored build funded in large part on the back of the U.S. taxpayer and is also known as 'The Promised Land' to the Afghan National Police Regional Headquarters. It is meant to fill the voids and address the logistical shortcomings affecting the ANP at the current HQ...things like photocopiers, fax machines, phones and computers. <br /><br />The JRAC is an 800 by 800 metre fenced in patch of land shared by 4 of Afghanistan's policing services situated along the side, very near KAF. Afghan Civil Order Police, Afghan Border Police, Afghan National Police Regional HQ (404 Maiwand) and the Regional Logistics Center. Each gets a quadrant of the area. And it is all brand new. New, but, the same colour...bland.<br /><br />Remember how I spoke of the SEAMLESS transition? Wait for it.<br /><br />As a member of the advance party, I bore witness to the department chiefs showing up on their Juma to take possession of their office space, gather up the new furnishings and stake claim to their new workspace. Sounds simple enough, right?<br /><br />Something I have learned about the Afghan culture so far is that "stuff" equals "status". It was no surprise that officers were laying claim to more offices than they had originally been assigned, helped themselves to extra pieces of office furniture, televisions and couches and "jingled" (decorated) up their space...that is until the General arrived.<br /><br />After a quick and effective blast of sh*%, the mentor advance party was given the responsibility of safe-guarding the offices and locking down all of the rooms and furniture until everyone got sorted. It was a bit of a gong-show to say the least. Other than that, fairly seamless...the organization continues.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi61Q3G32J_diwuXxM-XBcZ_ahc-qx5sZSaMJGbO2OstMHW-XPnNITMS2h53xACNuOdITsNyL0eMLx2NZiUhw7zVX0SYOjBw20rYx64-s2TRGXks8qBb5oR06CDE8g520oyuGmy9aygpnY/s1600/P1010469.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi61Q3G32J_diwuXxM-XBcZ_ahc-qx5sZSaMJGbO2OstMHW-XPnNITMS2h53xACNuOdITsNyL0eMLx2NZiUhw7zVX0SYOjBw20rYx64-s2TRGXks8qBb5oR06CDE8g520oyuGmy9aygpnY/s200/P1010469.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536069571352362162" /></a>So there I was, at the JRAC, in a bunkhouse, gear still packed, sleeping on the top bunk in a small cement room with a few of the boys I had stayed with my first week at Walton, with no real privacy, no internet with one toilet and one shower (to be shared among 12 of us). The Promised Land.<br /><br /><br />Day 3 at the JRAC and I've settled in, unpacked my stuff and the remaining Canadian Forces OMLT crew have arrived. Things are looking up. We have a temporary internet connection, our dried goods and comforts of home have been shipped in. This isn't going to be so bad. <br /><br />At day's end, just as I kick my feet up I get word. Re-assigned.<br /><br />It seems the next adventure is already about to begin. Pack your gear, Tomlinson, you're on the move.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvaDPHHfcyU5esuwClwVyu1eZd_Nghu73ik0KuQTK-G0rmhua9DBvPuY32znXK6WTUKg_RZUDNylJPg0gQGuWB2zwbsOzunDszCP7Y3gb5gjY8xovUZJEbPF0bMxNzRzxcK-AEpFeCUI/s1600/P1010088.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 172px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvaDPHHfcyU5esuwClwVyu1eZd_Nghu73ik0KuQTK-G0rmhua9DBvPuY32znXK6WTUKg_RZUDNylJPg0gQGuWB2zwbsOzunDszCP7Y3gb5gjY8xovUZJEbPF0bMxNzRzxcK-AEpFeCUI/s200/P1010088.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536057754745597106" /></a><br /><br />And so, while laughing to myself, I start to pack AGAIN. <br /><br />Now. Where did I put that garbage bag?Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-85299092051590789002010-11-03T07:40:00.020-04:002010-11-04T00:03:19.622-04:00Location, Location, Location...Location?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNAvwgLceuM5K4Q7wmwVQNNg0FqNxZeIoHKXmBV7hkJS1NqVVq4L-ZV__oyHpLte-F8NdFntubLeqMc76poFoeU0oW2HK752fRUM_lRf4UNiaoIZb3ynrDS-qnVhnEcYnIYCo4qlAUhyphenhyphenA/s1600/P1010456.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNAvwgLceuM5K4Q7wmwVQNNg0FqNxZeIoHKXmBV7hkJS1NqVVq4L-ZV__oyHpLte-F8NdFntubLeqMc76poFoeU0oW2HK752fRUM_lRf4UNiaoIZb3ynrDS-qnVhnEcYnIYCo4qlAUhyphenhyphenA/s200/P1010456.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535505911060208466" /></a><br />From FOB Walton to Camp Julien (Kabul) to the Canadian Embassy (Kabul) back to FOB Walton to our new digs at the JRAC (Joint Afghan Regional Command).<br /><br />In a matter of weeks I have settled into my work at Walton, traveled to Kabul for a Counter Insurgency Shura (meeting) at Camp Julien and visited the Canadian Embassy before returning to Walton to pack up and move to the JRAC.<br /><br />Kabul. The capitol city. Absolute madness. But more on that in a minute. <br /><br />So, about a week ago I found myself back on a Canadian Hercules headed north to Kabul with one of my mentees and another high-ranking officer of the ANP alongside my CIVPOL partner. It didn’t take long for the novelty of the Hercules cargo seating to officially wear off. I think my butt is STILL numb. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcL_CzDVCxG5Q4q_BZD7MvygrA4vZEzJF5uOnu8_CV4mwP_Uqheqs5uYbu3_VsDRhnGQcmn4TmyfrX-eX96ofhaqlv0B-4Aj9JwZ9ZlY3knGWBZCZzdd-3sWWfDq3GjsGCOWFGlpn2z84/s1600/P1010158.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcL_CzDVCxG5Q4q_BZD7MvygrA4vZEzJF5uOnu8_CV4mwP_Uqheqs5uYbu3_VsDRhnGQcmn4TmyfrX-eX96ofhaqlv0B-4Aj9JwZ9ZlY3knGWBZCZzdd-3sWWfDq3GjsGCOWFGlpn2z84/s200/P1010158.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535507238276321010" /></a>We were to attend a Counter Insurgency (COIN) Shura there at Camp Julien (an American-run base on the outskirts of Kabul City). The meeting involved all of the country’s regional commands, who were to discuss tactics, techniques and procedures related to battling the Insurgency. Riveting for all of you readers, I know. But that’s not the cool part.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghua10omgLTSmvAXmtOFl41xL3SJElNZIOXrWA0yiS_HN619me_UwnoHaKBwqT0NOK5N8iupQFprf2vKMbittGWO34T2BxqHwSqyHeh1bq2jMs9aIXCgE3JkGyX3domP1KA_Jb8VP_s7E/s1600/P1010130.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghua10omgLTSmvAXmtOFl41xL3SJElNZIOXrWA0yiS_HN619me_UwnoHaKBwqT0NOK5N8iupQFprf2vKMbittGWO34T2BxqHwSqyHeh1bq2jMs9aIXCgE3JkGyX3domP1KA_Jb8VP_s7E/s200/P1010130.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535513802588684722" /></a>Camp Julien is located near 2 palaces that belonged to King Amamullah Khan and his Queen, Soraya of Afghanistan during the 1920s. The King’s Palace named Darul Aman means “Abode of Peace” which is ironic because, after suffering several violent fires, it was finally destroyed by the Soviet versus Mujahideen conflict in the 1990s. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuMwjgwFDpBk-56HZU5XQtRmfYpNx6X61lNhcEBzhxNv2R_a8ClW3baFBexewg5RyFYasR8wgsfDKOLDoMKb1fBrb12SJl3jDfauS7mP_QQUvWR2gJwjZO-lgKltXmvfR2yTxJlR1q34/s1600/P1010100.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuMwjgwFDpBk-56HZU5XQtRmfYpNx6X61lNhcEBzhxNv2R_a8ClW3baFBexewg5RyFYasR8wgsfDKOLDoMKb1fBrb12SJl3jDfauS7mP_QQUvWR2gJwjZO-lgKltXmvfR2yTxJlR1q34/s200/P1010100.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535515197517624786" /></a>The Queen’s Palace is named Tajbeg Palace. It was the target of the Soviet invasion where Spetnaz soldiers assassinated the Afghan President in 1979 before becoming the Soviet Headquarters. This place has been totally bombed out after 3 decades of war.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5eXp67_1VjCAzxsoOvyo-9Jn3Fghy24oVnP-H2DTDH2BRNgByOoETQE9lVaSRErS7A0F5GuLe4WSxiU55wqAtDNyQl7IshBzgDa0ocflkGtcBYx71j2Vk2FjdHh1U0Zq3uKXN1XUVJs/s1600/P1010134.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5eXp67_1VjCAzxsoOvyo-9Jn3Fghy24oVnP-H2DTDH2BRNgByOoETQE9lVaSRErS7A0F5GuLe4WSxiU55wqAtDNyQl7IshBzgDa0ocflkGtcBYx71j2Vk2FjdHh1U0Zq3uKXN1XUVJs/s200/P1010134.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535516568161822578" /></a><br />Both palaces are currently in ruins and off limits to the general public; A rule which is not enforced very well as I saw children playing in and around the King’s Palace and a load of vandalism/art inside the Queen’s Palace.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKCEDcq4sWMe_wjCloxY95AFBjV4BWo82DRMZvGWNSv4tdR3pBD1duVb-iHD4SXeduppoqCMeVBgaNe_H1PbFVLAdkr8ugQoTULFJaTaBTZ6gesBT1SqH7fujcMSW4zQLO3R7q3DTcS3g/s1600/P1010146.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKCEDcq4sWMe_wjCloxY95AFBjV4BWo82DRMZvGWNSv4tdR3pBD1duVb-iHD4SXeduppoqCMeVBgaNe_H1PbFVLAdkr8ugQoTULFJaTaBTZ6gesBT1SqH7fujcMSW4zQLO3R7q3DTcS3g/s200/P1010146.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535538152693724546" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbB2l-u0EIaqD0V_s_Mfr5mIjVkM1rOLn0x5rbxQnYw6leA3Q6Zdbx5ESKsM-62qCmqO60piEr5bFghOTqcZ124wGxrUg92WGhebtRHQqqijl8sLfY99GWwhxRqmtxxocMYoninEnMVo/s1600/P1010149.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbB2l-u0EIaqD0V_s_Mfr5mIjVkM1rOLn0x5rbxQnYw6leA3Q6Zdbx5ESKsM-62qCmqO60piEr5bFghOTqcZ124wGxrUg92WGhebtRHQqqijl8sLfY99GWwhxRqmtxxocMYoninEnMVo/s200/P1010149.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535535874822470338" /></a>During one of our breaks in the day our group was escorted up to the Queen’s Palace where we were free to wander around, take pictures, risk our lives… The entire place felt like it was ready to collapse around us. But that just made it more exciting! I was impressed with the architecture of the buildings being that they were initially designed in the 1920s. Check out the copper bathtub and the hand painted tiles!<br /><br />A fellow CIVPOL officer assigned to the Canadian Embassy came to Camp Julien to pick us up in an up-armoured 4-Runner SUV so we could visit and eat and drink at the Embassy. Our friend showed up in full fighting order with a baby-faced Afghan driver named Safi. We strapped on our gear and climbed into the backseat of the truck ready to make the drive downtown.<br /><br />The drive started off tame enough as dusk was upon us. Soon we found ourselves in downtown rush hour, in the dark, with at least 8 lanes of traffic moving in all directions. Our driver negotiated the perilous congestion with ease and confidence. We saw car accidents, flat tires and pedestrians struck. Toronto traffic is a kiss compared to this. <br /><br />As he wheeled into oncoming traffic, through a bus shelter and over curbs he told us of his training. “We drive so we don’t have to stop. We don’t stop so you don’t get kidnapped”. Pretty basic concept I’d say. Okay Safi! Drive on.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMplJjCCHHy9V-Qj10fmHIZePwR2MR0-LQZppyTf7jJ9QPNUWf64SBhl6UTcewpChWFqNGI9x0G7opPV0E_dNyAAuA-I6AioJTs1BTu0j_gsZuXsrfMIDVfPlBpBCE5mIAbxUftLBwpH4/s1600/P1010168.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMplJjCCHHy9V-Qj10fmHIZePwR2MR0-LQZppyTf7jJ9QPNUWf64SBhl6UTcewpChWFqNGI9x0G7opPV0E_dNyAAuA-I6AioJTs1BTu0j_gsZuXsrfMIDVfPlBpBCE5mIAbxUftLBwpH4/s200/P1010168.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535518403497144738" /></a><br />As we touched down at he Embassy we met a few other colleagues and sat down for a nice proper dinner with metal utensils and everything! The food was great but not as good as the Corona! Oh no thank you, sir. Well, if you insist. Be rude not to…<br /><br /><br /><br />The Shura wrapped the next day and we went on our merry way back to FOB Walton to prepare for our big move to the JRAC.<br /><br />So y’all remember the picture of my nice comfy, PRIVATE room made of wood panels? Ya…I don’t live there anymore.<br /><br />Upon my return to the FOB the order came down from the ANP Commander that we would be making the move to the new facility by month’s end. Of course, the mentor team had to be there before our ANP counterparts to assist with their seamless transition. Seamless...are you sensing sarcasm? Good.<br /><br />Next Adventure: The JRAC !<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDB4D8j8fHy0fWFE4KyFzeAVtdmeiNpHbIhDzYTobcZ6Rlw9a-SVvd6fdBzv78tfd2aD3oEATOfaICpmKeAIu8kSPL-dhTPVNaSuzcNHKROxrVEpzhy_cx3KER9HGb9ios4F9T3oOBHXs/s1600/PA140078.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 159px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDB4D8j8fHy0fWFE4KyFzeAVtdmeiNpHbIhDzYTobcZ6Rlw9a-SVvd6fdBzv78tfd2aD3oEATOfaICpmKeAIu8kSPL-dhTPVNaSuzcNHKROxrVEpzhy_cx3KER9HGb9ios4F9T3oOBHXs/s200/PA140078.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535520543059925986" /></a>Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-43551719127927420412010-10-08T03:40:00.010-04:002010-10-11T02:44:13.856-04:00A Day in the Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uBil0pt9tmSPoIUTl8gnPNNqzADd_LeAS2AbriNMUsNPpjSj7U9jCMzOWTnLpvdrEokCYPjYS_4EuV6r30_-yiZZ8jPphI-k1I5My0Q8IhmMm5LXRYevWbYhSU5eCeEDsemau9bSo10/s1600/P1000958.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uBil0pt9tmSPoIUTl8gnPNNqzADd_LeAS2AbriNMUsNPpjSj7U9jCMzOWTnLpvdrEokCYPjYS_4EuV6r30_-yiZZ8jPphI-k1I5My0Q8IhmMm5LXRYevWbYhSU5eCeEDsemau9bSo10/s200/P1000958.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526033266517675666" /></a><br />How does the saying go? There's no life like it. As I have recently discovered that statement is absolutely true. I have been in theater for one month and have pretty much adjusted to army life at Forward Operating Base Walton which is located very near Kandahar City. It also has the reputation of being among the most austere places that CIVPOL officers have the pleasure of residing. Lucky me!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitt6MY_99F7cdgy3K03DjIfs0AsSFcRLQHQ-rJmFer5vnhK_aBi84zsja-SxwcjdkZxVqwtOGUqfsiQ0ajwm0MxBTnWGQglDiRQHcn9yD2-tj0QFW3uHv8QtXbsnpIkKdcGOGgm-iGl4/s1600/P1000959.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitt6MY_99F7cdgy3K03DjIfs0AsSFcRLQHQ-rJmFer5vnhK_aBi84zsja-SxwcjdkZxVqwtOGUqfsiQ0ajwm0MxBTnWGQglDiRQHcn9yD2-tj0QFW3uHv8QtXbsnpIkKdcGOGgm-iGl4/s200/P1000959.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526035208780287554" /></a>Things are motoring right along, my living arrangements changed from living with the Canadian Forces guys in a large tent to my suite in a 4 bedroom condo building. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtitga1_kWIiJXxxO9qmjVazjYLVWIWl8Ua1mI6md0EN1x7yQygWRd9cOkFDYibBl9EieXAu0V2eV-tySdQh38eB5N3ZLle7ndJTyoWw9NPEpvXHn6XcBYR75_bWvlPpsXLX22GETeTQ/s1600/P1000974.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtitga1_kWIiJXxxO9qmjVazjYLVWIWl8Ua1mI6md0EN1x7yQygWRd9cOkFDYibBl9EieXAu0V2eV-tySdQh38eB5N3ZLle7ndJTyoWw9NPEpvXHn6XcBYR75_bWvlPpsXLX22GETeTQ/s200/P1000974.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526036499551109346" /></a><br />Are you sensing the sarcasm? At first glance things look rough to the untrained eye but if you were here you'd appreciate the quality of the living quarters compared to that of the Afghan people in and around Kandahar City. Besides, it just takes a little time to get used to.<br /><br />My role here at FOB Walton is to mentor 3 high ranking officials of the Regional Headquarters named 404 Maiwand. It's realm of responsibility covers the southern provinces of Afghanistan. I am currently mentoring the Chiefs of Counter Narcotics, Counter Terrorism and DIAG (Disarm Insurgents and Armed Groups)...okay! Maybe I am working a little above my pay grade but I'm just following orders!<br /><br />Most days I don't go outside the wire because RHQ is attached to FOB Walton. It's a leisurely walk up a slight hill to an air conditioned office where we sip on Chai tea and work on improving the Afghan National Police in a variety ways including communications, logistics and manpower.<br /><br />Even though mentoring is a key factor in empowering the A.N.P. to become self sufficient it is not what I envisioned for myself over here. That being said, I have really enjoyed getting to know some of the Afghan people on a personal level. I am amazed at their tenacity, patience and generosity. They welcome us into their offices, which are basically their homes for a lot of them, offer us MORE Chai tea and allow us to critique and advise them on everything from investigations to report writing. Believe me, it's humbling when a 30 year veteran of the Afghan National Police asks a 10 year guy from Canada the best way to deal with a situation.<br /><br />Some of the local kids manage to get in to the base and hang out in the commons area where they get a healthy diet of sugar before heading home to their village just outside the wall. I'm sure their parents are thrilled to get them back all jacked up on Coke and cookies! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfc-rO-xoU_DZZqUVD5-ApYWt4c_xppPEB5OsaEUZdPLJTc2mada63T7YPQiMl-pWEBm2uAzZwH7M724srpoyZzGC4UDkH5HvX71oVYaVvmeylgn0fMz6wit9DJ2OD9xmFYC73NBPuB4/s1600/P1010027.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfc-rO-xoU_DZZqUVD5-ApYWt4c_xppPEB5OsaEUZdPLJTc2mada63T7YPQiMl-pWEBm2uAzZwH7M724srpoyZzGC4UDkH5HvX71oVYaVvmeylgn0fMz6wit9DJ2OD9xmFYC73NBPuB4/s200/P1010027.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526674862909602098" /></a>This young man is a local boy who is deaf. He sits on my lap and plays on the computer a bit and basically, follows me around the camp all day. He is a very smart kid but I am afraid, given his circumstances, he won't fair very well in the future. Let's just hope he continues to see us as "the good guys".<br /><br /><br />FOB Walton is an American run base with a D-FAC (dining facility) that feeds the troops here in typical U.S. Army fashion. Although it's improving as the base grows, the food selection is largely high calorie in order to keep the young U.S. troops high in energy...not so good for a 41 year old metabolism! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyJc9YqBgtXI6LdO4OADxOCf3l_IjoJtPOjkDDXJzN3utDK9fHTrSC_y-ZptK-rU15G9RUN8Kofh1ZkQMJ_Xctd-ZA62ytjT7YZ1YbMvvWvQaq-a_E5a1LMLe9dBsDVrU8EsNQqft49Y/s1600/P1010023.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyJc9YqBgtXI6LdO4OADxOCf3l_IjoJtPOjkDDXJzN3utDK9fHTrSC_y-ZptK-rU15G9RUN8Kofh1ZkQMJ_Xctd-ZA62ytjT7YZ1YbMvvWvQaq-a_E5a1LMLe9dBsDVrU8EsNQqft49Y/s200/P1010023.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526673461066859122" /></a>At lunch I generally eat at the RHQ Afghan D-FAC which serves naan bread,rice, a small portion of chicken or beef, a few veggies and an apple on a stainless steel tray. Ev-er-y day. The food is really quite good. The presentation...not so much. For those of you who know me and my (previous) eating habits, you would NEVER expect me to be downing this stuff. Quality food is a luxury for the Afghan people, so I try to eat as much as I can when in their company. When you push a cooked fly and a worm out of your rice and continue to eat, nobody can ever call you "Picky Jay" again! Just sayin'<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9owD-9uF4IDGMU5w6lKDmIhjis3DfedVBLkvoOORVwod2sPNeDnJBvnOJTpoGHVzuFS0JuqKQCnzNqfGc9gB8KIFLnZYa4VcGHvMeuJkC4xUP-GR1nZK6OqSLwI2gHCv8Og8CssYmJQ/s1600/P1010013.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9owD-9uF4IDGMU5w6lKDmIhjis3DfedVBLkvoOORVwod2sPNeDnJBvnOJTpoGHVzuFS0JuqKQCnzNqfGc9gB8KIFLnZYa4VcGHvMeuJkC4xUP-GR1nZK6OqSLwI2gHCv8Og8CssYmJQ/s200/P1010013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526039204639087746" /></a>A few other things you may be interested in knowing is that I am working with the Canadian Forces OMLT (Operations Mentor Liaison Team). These guys are made up of Reg Force (Royal Canadian Dragoons) and Reservists from all over Canada. I can honestly say every one of them are good, decent guys I could drink a Corona with...mmmmmm...Corona!!!<br /><br />One thing I have learned being on mission so far is that things change. For example, the job I have now is the 3rd job I was told I'd be doing. I don't expect to spend my entire time in theater mentoring the Regional Headquarters staff but ya never know.<br /><br />After one month, I am generally healthy, mostly happy and enjoying the experience. There are days when I'm brushing my teeth with warm bottled water (always hated that) that I think to myself I could be headed to Chatham for my nephew Hayden's birthday or driving west along the 401 for Thanksgiving dinner or going to the Tecumseh Secondary School Reunion!! *sigh* But then I just shrug my shoulders, spit and head into work!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-36374509819863173482010-09-24T12:38:00.002-04:002010-09-24T12:51:26.629-04:00The Adventure BeginsAfter the posh treatment of the team on the overseas flight, we arrived at Minhad Airfield where we were to regroup and get our weapons issued before we head into theater.<br /><br />The weather in Dubai got up to 54 degrees Celsius on our second last day and that isn’t hot apparently.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOg70YEl6LoLwdt5XMnNyiHH-EKyRiMKHJhn74d9dv3hEPnN82etw9NAjlWpbIjtoAWixCRXSIefBplRxY4ODjOwqtC1JAdM6ZrwKPrBQzB0uoAlbKrEVRxLB6c-NGYz7tCucQBVjEuU/s1600/DSCN0901.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOg70YEl6LoLwdt5XMnNyiHH-EKyRiMKHJhn74d9dv3hEPnN82etw9NAjlWpbIjtoAWixCRXSIefBplRxY4ODjOwqtC1JAdM6ZrwKPrBQzB0uoAlbKrEVRxLB6c-NGYz7tCucQBVjEuU/s320/DSCN0901.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520521789786251810" /></a>After a couple of days of prepping we were finally ready to jump in with both feet. We joined a small group of Canadian Forces on a Hercules military flight into Kandahar Air Field. We wore our full battle gear which barely fit into the cargo webbing seats. Our means of safety were a loose-fitting 2 point leap belt . I affectionately dubbed this seating as the “Takin’ Care of Business” class.<br /><br />Three and a half hours later and a really numb bum we touched down at KAF met by the CIVPOL entourage who preceded us a few months prior. From there we were whisked to our rooms, unpacked, issued security passes and had our passports stamped! All while hitting Tim Horton’s, which, like back home is constantly lined up.<br /><br />All of this didn’t happen quite as quickly as it sounds. Things here get done ENSHALLA (if God wills it).<br /><br />KAF is a very busy base which shocked me initially. There are literally thousands of Americans there as they have taken over operations. The U.S. military machine is truly impressive.<br /><br />Kandahar Air Field is the Middle East dust capitol of the world. Everyone on our team was afflicted with runny noses, allergic reactions and the coveted KAF cough. The beige talcum powder gets everywhere…I mean EVERYWHERE !<br /><br />After a few days at KAF things started to really get cool. We had to move to Camp Nathan Smith by BLACKHAWK helicopters !!! The tactical flight path was an awesome experience as we rocked back and forth and followed the contours of the terrain!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfwUZvzdbvjYYGQ0FLPR6VXeT4EcXdBIUFnLrZA0Qghx68C3W_J6u7a9tr6TShu9JL1IDRByRln2z0WwsfVLJzI1Ce1V8Lug2U0klUiUGjVbQItslIsbqZS0n_fYNDSqzdL5apO8jcy20/s1600/P1000936.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfwUZvzdbvjYYGQ0FLPR6VXeT4EcXdBIUFnLrZA0Qghx68C3W_J6u7a9tr6TShu9JL1IDRByRln2z0WwsfVLJzI1Ce1V8Lug2U0klUiUGjVbQItslIsbqZS0n_fYNDSqzdL5apO8jcy20/s320/P1000936.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520523306711880178" /></a>We got settled in at CNS and had “in clearance” training where we met more CIVPOL officers and managed to get some range time to sight in our weapons. Camp Nathan Smith is where we all were assigned our postings and headed out to our work regions.<br /><br />Moving Day. I found out on one of my last days at CNS I was going to have a job change. My job at the Regional Training Centre had gone to someone else and I was to be posted at Forward Operating Base Walton. My new job is mentoring senior officers of the Afghan National Police in the Criminal Investigations Division. <br /><br />On the 20th of September we mounted up in full PPE (personal protective equipment) also known as battle gear, headed over to the Canadian Forces convoy briefing before we hitched a ride to Forward Operating Base Walton.<br /><br />Our first drive into Kandahar City was a little ominous but our faith in the force protection of the Canadian military gave us confidence that we would arrive safely. A 15 minute drive took about 50 minutes as intelligence came in that we should change up our planned route due to possible IEDs on the original map.<br /><br />We arrived at FOB Walton without incident, were offloaded in a hurry and the convoy pressed on to KAF with the remainder of the passengers.<br /><br />After stripping off the heavy armour we had a quick briefing and settled into our temporary quarters. I found myself in a tent with 8 Canadian military men, those who’ll be responsible for my safety when outside the wire (A good group of guys to get to know).<br /><br />FOB Walton is very austere. Take M*A*S*H* and make it just a little dirtier, a little messier and a lot more populated. <br /><br />But more on that later.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-90463013873389997952010-09-18T04:11:00.007-04:002010-09-18T07:26:30.930-04:00That's How I Roll!Excuse me, readers…do you have any Grey Poupon?<br /><br />I have finally, sort of, settled down here at Camp Nathan Smith in sunny Kandahar, Afghanistan. I am sitting in a sea container that has been converted into a room with 2 beds and, once again, no roommate.<br /><br />How did I get here? That’s the story of this blog post. The answer is not going to be as philosophical as you might imagine because rather than reason out why I am here I’m going to tell you how I got here…literally.<br /><br />The 20 officers from across the country, with whom I have been training, and I climbed aboard an Air Canada flight bound for Frankfurt, Germany on September 10th. We were no ordinary passengers, however.<br /><br />Much to the chagrin of the regular bourgeois, twenty of the nation’s finest climbed aboard AC 848 in <strong>business class</strong> met by a glass of sparkling wine and a mini kit designed to relax and refresh you during your flight (I guess).<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4B0tBKhX1GCmYyB-tInw5UqzPuYFmLL1h2G_D3yGXEDsuTE04PlpNZ55D9ZO1xrvvNVixi_KKu94ooJzMFLWPwBhEddC8CvJ9I8MEO4xJys7yo0Ww6ykaYGQzoyXuAcLix3P-ctDlnC0/s1600/P1000882.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4B0tBKhX1GCmYyB-tInw5UqzPuYFmLL1h2G_D3yGXEDsuTE04PlpNZ55D9ZO1xrvvNVixi_KKu94ooJzMFLWPwBhEddC8CvJ9I8MEO4xJys7yo0Ww6ykaYGQzoyXuAcLix3P-ctDlnC0/s320/P1000882.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518166376639851762" /></a><br /><br />The Air Canada flight attendants looked after us like doting mothers as we accepted their gifts and attention without hesitation. The flight was enjoyable, as I reclined in my pod seat and watched a movie and dined on beef tenderloin while sipping on the odd alcoholic beverage. Life is rough.<br /><br />As we arrived in Frankfurt the plane gently kissed the ground before we taxied to our destination and de-planed. We were promptly directed to the Lufthansa <strong>executive class</strong> lounge. Am I sickening you yet?<br /><br />The toughest part of the trip was the 8, turned 9 hour layover. We were forced to spend it in the lounge with free food, free beer, showers and sleep rooms. You can well imagine how well we fit in there!!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfMi_VMDNEN2NcFzaEwe0COQueDtgLMDB2WRy77UE3Pe0PeMy3MqjwZrsjIlhO1FX1jCLXP49ME2riSROkOZDgjgzDysN-cjle_hWRPY35O1QhfESAo1M5ZueeEh_uWFhAAEZWzLamSv8/s1600/P1000871.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfMi_VMDNEN2NcFzaEwe0COQueDtgLMDB2WRy77UE3Pe0PeMy3MqjwZrsjIlhO1FX1jCLXP49ME2riSROkOZDgjgzDysN-cjle_hWRPY35O1QhfESAo1M5ZueeEh_uWFhAAEZWzLamSv8/s320/P1000871.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518164318105984658" /></a>Upon boarding the Lufthansa executive class we were again met with sparkling wine and what? another mini-kit to relax and refresh. *sigh* I missed the meal (and most of the flight) due to my self administered, food induced coma<br /><br />We landed in Dubai at about midnight and were met with an intense humid heat where reality decided to check us from our first class experience. We lugged our gear to a dusty, dirty bus with no air conditioning.<br /><br />With the windows open for air circulation we traveled toward our Canadian Air Base smelling an unfamiliar fragrant air and with a keen sense that we had finally arrived.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-63151994822175209552010-09-01T20:13:00.006-04:002010-09-01T21:12:30.663-04:00The Final StretchTraining has started to wrap up here in Ottawa and although I am not at liberty to say exactly when we will be departing, I am sure you can all approximate when the deployment will take place. Here's a hint: really, really soon.<br /><br />Our 400 lbs of kit has been packed, itemized and shipped overseas. Everyone here is dressed down for the final stretch. It looks a little like spring break with shorts, t-shirts, and my favourite, flip flops!!<br /><br />Yesterday we were handed our postings in the form of what is called a deployment letter. I felt like I was back at highschool in the exam room peering over my buddy's shoulder to see what he got! Everyone was happy with their assignments. <br /><br />I now know WHERE I'll be stationed but am still at a loss with respect to WHAT exactly I'll be doing. This is typical of military operations so I am not worried. I also was given the mailing address of my posting and will forward it to anyone interested in writing me.<br /><br />Today we learned a lot about the Afghan culture, history and customs. Believe me when I tell you that we (in the Western world) are quick to have strong, uninformed opinions related to the Afghan people. Simply put they have had it rough and their overall mistrust of other cultures is not borne of nothing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9nGHhEUfGi6Z44stdEQEvJzannCtRQR7X0RujokPInuogu-9K_uIZ0-2BNKyd46YNgzLFt5FHUaU_5o1JhPjwTm-tbWGYjX538rnjsqroaJ9E5JlnrWRjqrY7mqFS1SjkGan7klEwrU/s1600/P1000827.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9nGHhEUfGi6Z44stdEQEvJzannCtRQR7X0RujokPInuogu-9K_uIZ0-2BNKyd46YNgzLFt5FHUaU_5o1JhPjwTm-tbWGYjX538rnjsqroaJ9E5JlnrWRjqrY7mqFS1SjkGan7klEwrU/s320/P1000827.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512117601368545138" /></a><br />To go with the theme today we partook of a traditional Afghan meal where we ate on the floor with our hands (our right hands)! We had a rice and raisin dish, beef gorma, egg plant, a type of shawarma meat and a tandoori chicken dish. The food was excellent...or maybe it was my fingers :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCc-OW8N2OY1pfc4e_ZnZhP4Qzlx17icbSS2I7c_YNA0Gicy-dEzyqSpC6pOlfMoNwJun7Bh6hUEnxgUoHy7J1DdPNxsdE8F2XL_EFS1HELvDtOddPnwyeAFjDqvRc67GJSSQCMi-a93g/s1600/P1000803.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCc-OW8N2OY1pfc4e_ZnZhP4Qzlx17icbSS2I7c_YNA0Gicy-dEzyqSpC6pOlfMoNwJun7Bh6hUEnxgUoHy7J1DdPNxsdE8F2XL_EFS1HELvDtOddPnwyeAFjDqvRc67GJSSQCMi-a93g/s320/P1000803.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512117084844480114" /></a>Because we are set to deploy and our gear had to go before us, we had to have picture day!! We 20 in our tan BDUs in a group shot and, of course, the individual portraits. Don't mind my silly grin, but I was hamming it up for my camera!<br /><br />I will try to fire another blog update off before I jet although it maybe just words of appreciation for all of you who have been continually supportive throughout this mission training.<br /><br />Uhthankya !Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-46030772087938240432010-08-25T11:43:00.003-04:002010-08-25T12:16:53.618-04:00CPC, Packing and OpSecI have to touch on a few things for this blog having been recently lectured about media awareness and Operational Security.<br /><br />Although I am enjoying writing this blog, and am happy so many people are reading it, I have to say that some of the upcoming posts may very well be a bit vague with respect to dates and times as well as locations. Photos will be cropped so that I don't inadvertently allow the evil-doers of the world access to any sensitive information. I'm sure you all understand.<br /><br />That being said, I know what I can type, disclose and show. I'll try to make every post more interesting than a weather report and well wishes for all of you.<br /><br />We're all back at the Canadian Police College looking at the light at the end of the tunnel. We're still learning more stuff and keen to get out there. They moved us into a different area of the college where we are all on the same floor with a shared bathroom. When I say "we" I mean everyone else because I scored the only commissioned officer's quarters on this floor with my own en suite bathroom. I know, you're right, I DO deserve it! :p<br /><br />While we are here we are going to qualify on the RCMP side arm (S & W for you gun guys). We have done some GPS/map and compass work and tracking. I guess it's a bad idea to get lost anywhere over in Afghanistan!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhg_iNhmOKVOWXsICpBfPB3Bz2t9mdCFBqZC4Y58UZBIFnK8rXIrTHl55MZlC7k3A5HHoBKQtEvDyvLYem9sPj0btYMU7z2okV2UhG7dy5IUXgSO8CKtjjqKZ3oP4DNRNvLrUlJWjERsQ/s1600/P1000727.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhg_iNhmOKVOWXsICpBfPB3Bz2t9mdCFBqZC4Y58UZBIFnK8rXIrTHl55MZlC7k3A5HHoBKQtEvDyvLYem9sPj0btYMU7z2okV2UhG7dy5IUXgSO8CKtjjqKZ3oP4DNRNvLrUlJWjERsQ/s320/P1000727.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509381613544220370" /></a> <br /><br />Our stuff is meant to be shipped in the very near future and we are all getting really good at Tetris type packing! How does the saying go? "If it don't fit, force it"<br /><br />The more of the little details we get finished the closer we are to getting on that plane and into our work. We still have not been told exactly what our jobs will be or where we will be posted. Although we'd like to know, it's probably best we don't. It will undoubtedly change several times before we are in mission. But hey, we're going to Afghanistan!<br /><br />I'm thinking about and missing you all!<br /><br />That's all for now, friends!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-91420477180504093582010-08-19T15:32:00.010-04:002010-08-21T11:20:05.665-04:00Bandages, Dog Tags and Mines, oh my!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnG85dbVCmInMiuwbE3s8uG9tuVMMOdZTIJqSzxufW3k4SWH9WV60oTW4qWAak2H1zr_T5XffLBhHD_sHMJXMsLtvW1cGNTSZWcmp3kswbTP3zFpgj2yPko8xxVOHmXiIsqEFLD03VTO0/s1600/P1000624.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnG85dbVCmInMiuwbE3s8uG9tuVMMOdZTIJqSzxufW3k4SWH9WV60oTW4qWAak2H1zr_T5XffLBhHD_sHMJXMsLtvW1cGNTSZWcmp3kswbTP3zFpgj2yPko8xxVOHmXiIsqEFLD03VTO0/s320/P1000624.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507687583815620146" /></a><br />Okay! So this second week at Petawawa has been chocked full of really cool training with a big day coming up tomorrow.<br /><br />Our team was intermingled with the Canadian Forces for Combat 1st Aid this week where we learned how to treat wounded soldiers with tourniquets and packing gauze etc. Not only did we practice aiding ourselves while waiting for help but also on real hunks of meat. <br />The highlight of morning #1 occurred when the instructors had us drop to the ground and tourniquet one leg until we couldn't feel it. Then we crawled across gravel stopping to check and see if the pressure was still good...but believe me, you could feel it working....because it hurts like hell! I wish I had a picture of us dragging our sorry arses across the lot but let's just say it wasn't a priority at the time!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55PcuzNXGozxEV5JuPLOZmluYhWZSvtkF9PpXJt5eHKgH0qNlNAn2VDzuRHZFgp9cxVsaCuhVCxaUjCOOe6KzlLDY2NQAoDHmeJZs6YnXn5l5DvaJV2pxx8AdqOe8QI0hq9ZnrCIaIDY/s1600/P1000649.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55PcuzNXGozxEV5JuPLOZmluYhWZSvtkF9PpXJt5eHKgH0qNlNAn2VDzuRHZFgp9cxVsaCuhVCxaUjCOOe6KzlLDY2NQAoDHmeJZs6YnXn5l5DvaJV2pxx8AdqOe8QI0hq9ZnrCIaIDY/s320/P1000649.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507881302509873170" /></a>Day 2 of Combat 1st Aid put us in the field with the CF in sections in full fighting order (head to toe battle gear)where we went live with actual simulated explosions and wounded (actors) role-playing as we did our assessment and treatment in the middle of a firefight. It was amazing how quickly we developed as a team as we rotated through the scenarios. But even with this little bit of stress things fall apart pretty damn quick. All I can say is if something like this happens it would be a really, really bad day at work!<br /><br />That's why we were trained today (and tomorrow) on IED identification and land mine clearing!<br /><br /><font style="font-style:italic;">And just so everyone reading knows, we, as CIVPOL officers, will not be required to do any of these things. It is the military's job to deal with these situations. They train us to familiarize us with their tactics so we aren't completely in the dark if we have to stop while in a convoy!</font><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsdXcZWMXJ35iCd3Zl-i52MKNvO-K596AIc6fuXxpMWpYUkngceNcSqESzsWq27Zht2k9sGAm6ZhQhKLa1dbCoqOfqLV_3IWWoMbSDyerOsD3MzeevLTRoAF8IMU7tH9rxHLJln4T_ls/s1600/P1000689.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsdXcZWMXJ35iCd3Zl-i52MKNvO-K596AIc6fuXxpMWpYUkngceNcSqESzsWq27Zht2k9sGAm6ZhQhKLa1dbCoqOfqLV_3IWWoMbSDyerOsD3MzeevLTRoAF8IMU7tH9rxHLJln4T_ls/s320/P1000689.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507882526748422882" /></a>That being said, today we were with the same crew and were lectured on IEDs, landmines and how we use counter-measures and other abilities to minimize casualties with respect to the only weapon the "enemy" seem to have limited success with. It is a fact that Canadian soldiers are among the best trained in the world and are well-known counter-insurgency tacticians. So folks, rest-assured that the stuff we're learning works well.<br /><br />Today we received our Dog Tags with our identification on it. They look pretty cool except it says I'm an RCMP! Hmph!<br /><br />Tomorrow we are going live in convoys where we put into play our new skills of treating wounded, clearing mines and dealing with IED strikes! Rock n Roll!!!<br /><br />Enough of the technical stuff. I am having fun, learning lots and am looking forward to getting over there and getting on the ground. We all are. <br /><br />On a side note, I can't begin to tell you the level of respect I have for the soldiers we have encountered. I am impressed. They are kids. Kids with adult courage. It's unbelievable.<br /><br />Next week we're back to Ottawa for a couple more weeks of training...21 days to go!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-22071390072573604402010-08-10T17:14:00.007-04:002010-08-15T08:27:26.862-04:00Gear Junkie's Heaven and Training<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRKaaV01EszvaIXchRZAIZO8t9h-JHcGL9Kfuw4bOuIXJ79EwaZdF01JQJrnYJzbpctaHCE0ZNV5NkBasNSpcqrQgCUTjOorfrnRKYRA315OcYmWdpuJD42QICN9tUNWhjQpXwDgHWX8/s1600/P1000561.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRKaaV01EszvaIXchRZAIZO8t9h-JHcGL9Kfuw4bOuIXJ79EwaZdF01JQJrnYJzbpctaHCE0ZNV5NkBasNSpcqrQgCUTjOorfrnRKYRA315OcYmWdpuJD42QICN9tUNWhjQpXwDgHWX8/s400/P1000561.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505286483057897090" /></a><br />Last Friday we were outfitted with our uniforms, tactical gear and all sorts of army stuff. The sheer amount of kit must weigh in at close to 400 lbs. This mission is a gear junkie's wet dream. Head to toe we were measured and kitted up with everything you would need for full on battle. Helmet, ballistic vest which, by the way, has 2 super heavy trauma plates as well as a vest that goes over top for all of the other stuff you are required to carry...ie ammunition etc. There is so much stuff that we are issued 2 giant duffel bags and a huge foot locker box for shipping. All of the gear barely fits inside. And it's effin heavy (sorry kids).<br /><br />The uniforms are tan in colour and some of the safety kit (helmets, vests etc.) are only used here for training and we are to receive our proper battle gear once in theatre. The BDUs (battle dress uniforms) we are currently wearing on base are getting a lot of looks from the army types as we are new here. Well that, and everyone else is in green camo. Overall, the uniforms are starting to take shape. The first day was rough with loose threads and wrinkly uniforms but already on the second day wearing them, they're starting to pull together. We actually look pretty unified!<br /><br />We have arrived at CFB Petawawa and have started our training. Gas mask training was no problem except we had to actually decontaminate ourselves with some really slimy liquid which we rubbed all over...a bit of a mess but fun!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUpxoVByIm6zhVMLJzSquhaOJ94hmaU1Yj5zKJjUNKqMG13B5yBTmxUSu6yzMx0twhTSDCRn2QYHqN7YYFeYNS7Y51KDzeFhbGbyD2uV-YJRZCSDWc7oKrDvbF6GxifgHP1mAtrJIwsOw/s1600/P1000548.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUpxoVByIm6zhVMLJzSquhaOJ94hmaU1Yj5zKJjUNKqMG13B5yBTmxUSu6yzMx0twhTSDCRn2QYHqN7YYFeYNS7Y51KDzeFhbGbyD2uV-YJRZCSDWc7oKrDvbF6GxifgHP1mAtrJIwsOw/s320/P1000548.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505611937474167458" /></a><br />Today we had simulated weapons training...what a hoot! Basically, we fired a course of fire with laser guns which actually feel and perform like the real thing using CO2. It's like a glorified video game. We actually went full auto for some kicks and I got to fire while laying on my back and upside down. (I actually shot better that way...how does THAT happen?)<br /><br /><br />We are pressing on, learning more and more about one another and the bonds of friendship have already started to grow. It's funny how you get to know friends by spending every waking moment with strangers.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-71709011973998797862010-08-05T11:13:00.002-04:002010-08-05T11:35:58.234-04:00Pre-deployment Paperwork !So we have been here at Canadian Police College for 2 days now I am getting really good at filling out paperwork and watching powerpoint presentations. All the stuff that needs to be taken care of before climbing onto that airplane.<br /><br />The accommodations are fairly nice with 2 dorm rooms sharing a bathroom. I'm hooked up with a Toronto guy and we get on pretty good. We start at Petawawa on Monday in full military regalia. Hooah. Half of the IPOB (International Policing Operations Branch) team picked up their uniforms and kit this morning and the rest of us are meant to get it tomorrow. It's like G.I. Joe Christmas here.<br /><br />There are a total of 20 of us going from across the nation which has been paired down from the original number of 28. There are a surprising number of retired officers from RCMP and OPP. I, of course, hold the junior rank and junior time on. I'm already the designated class clown...not sure how THAT happened. Everybody is great so far as we get to know one another through the 45 minute coffee breaks we have between lectures.<br /><br />As we prepare for this endeavour through paperwork, fingerprints, dna samples etc. the gravity of the nature of the mission starts to sink in. Listening to experiences and updates from over there I have started to realize already how much I'll miss my family, friends (and couch)! But rest assured, as I have, the things we are doing now in preparation are the ultimate in safeguards for our time there.<br /><br />Other than that, nothing too cool to report so far. Wait until next week when we hit Petawawa!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-41187732851713588992010-07-31T12:24:00.006-04:002010-08-14T14:11:30.355-04:00Pre- Pre-Deployment Training<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKXM0MNHgx4LzC0PjB_jQdWn2_CI71kFtvTTiGuOdpXpxO8E5eUif6pk7F1ucjl8VBIQJoG_yErvhqLoyBkm-06dJgjOtaOufBXUhjhUsW02DBZwfnpvXXPd0nhsNl17cIZ0TlPZDTy-c/s1600/P1000482.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKXM0MNHgx4LzC0PjB_jQdWn2_CI71kFtvTTiGuOdpXpxO8E5eUif6pk7F1ucjl8VBIQJoG_yErvhqLoyBkm-06dJgjOtaOufBXUhjhUsW02DBZwfnpvXXPd0nhsNl17cIZ0TlPZDTy-c/s320/P1000482.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505291849907097922" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyz6sSsky19cnPgkN0rG3NHVjvLySvOrLGPhdfPlLn_ehzdE84MZZWCLld5LlaAFwLtKuf9AAc-fUdgPJwQpnn-HtwsHidCFIzHUMkmckycwVFvOWAgzaHIvhlY9Q-pjs5Fz9Jm-fWYtU/s1600/P1000500.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyz6sSsky19cnPgkN0rG3NHVjvLySvOrLGPhdfPlLn_ehzdE84MZZWCLld5LlaAFwLtKuf9AAc-fUdgPJwQpnn-HtwsHidCFIzHUMkmckycwVFvOWAgzaHIvhlY9Q-pjs5Fz9Jm-fWYtU/s320/P1000500.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505290490485278594" border="0"></a><br />We spent last week at the Emergency Task Force building in Toronto where we had some specialized training before we head to Ottawa/Petawawa for our pre-deployment training.<br /><br />The training included cultural awareness, combat-style first aid and, of course, firearms training.<br /><br />I have to tell you that I am very impressed with the ETF. Because they are so insulated from the rest of the department they have an air of mystery to them. This is sometimes construed by other police officers that they are arrogant or elitist. I am telling you first hand this IS NOT the case. I really enjoyed my time there. I have a new found respect for a squad I knew little about...and these guys are good dudes. Good dudes who can whip some ass if they have to!<br /><br />We trained firearms both at the building and out at Borden where we were able to get some trigger time on the C8 rifle. Anti-ambush training gets the heart pumpin' let me tell you!<br /><br />Thanks go out to our Sergeant in charge of the International Policing and to the ETF for allowing us into their world and making us feel welcome while helping prepare us for our upcoming adventure!<br /><br />Tuesday, Ottawa!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7599350063368647014.post-1454464868165341762010-07-24T07:48:00.000-04:002010-07-24T08:03:09.600-04:00Background InformationI guess a good place to start is at the beginning. In January of this year I applied to be considered as a candidate for the upcoming CIVPOL Afghan mission set to deploy this September. CIVPOL is an acronym/abbreviation for Civilian Policing. The RCMP love acronyms!<br /><br />The application process involved seeking authorization from my unit commander in writing, a resume, cover letter, background check and credit check. An overall assessment then takes place and a score is given to your application. If successful you're given a panel interview, a fitness test and a psychological evaluation by the Toronto Police. But that's just the beginning.<br /><br />Once Toronto Police decide you are suitable they forward the application to the RCMP who conduct the entire process over again with 10 times the paperwork. Ugh.<br /><br />So after 6 months plus of testing, evaluating and being investigated I made the final cut. The field of candidates was competitive and I feel fortunate to be among the team of 8 representing the Toronto Police Service and Canada!Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16159670569295766465noreply@blogger.com1