thedrifter
08-21-07, 06:40 AM
Recreating Kandahar for training
Brock Harrison / Osprey News Network
Local News - Tuesday, August 21, 2007 @ 07:00
Twenty of us arrived here, behind schedule, on the type of rickety old school bus they send U.S. Marines off to train in.
With notebooks in hand and cameras slung around our necks, we crested a rare Alberta Prairie hill as the bus windows rattled and we saw rows upon seemingly endless rows of slumping army green tents against a hazy grey backdrop.
A helicopter flew by overhead.
A pair of armed and uniformed reserve troops guarded the barbed-wire gate into "Kandahar Air Field" and two manned sniper towers flanked the gravel road into the base. The gun barrels were poking out the windows. We were later told the sentry patrol is 24/7.
The rain started lightly when we got off the bus in front of a giant white tent, the cafeteria. About a dozen reservists were in the midst of supper. They weren't talking to each other and they didn't so much as flinch when the reporters walked in.
We were taught how to prepare IMPs (individual meal packs) and told that some of them could be up to 10 years old. I dropped my silver vacuum-packed meat ball bag into a vat of boiling water and waited for it to float to the surface. That meant it was ready.
This is what we'd be eating, we were told, for the rest of the exercise.
Each pack contains upwards of 4,500 calories and supplies an active soldier with all
the nutrients needed to sustain life.
By law, soldiers cannot go more than 45 days
living on IMPs alone.
Also in the pack: Cookies, instant coffee, desert, a selection of sauces and condiments, and a piece of bread that looked and tasted like a Nerf ball.
As we trudged to our sleeping quarters across an open field after dinner, some of us still wearing the blue jeans and bright shirts we flew in from Toronto with, the sensation of sticking out mounted. Passing-by troops would stare and not say anything.
We were led into a tent with a projection screen and three well-proportioned soldiers standing beside it. The sound of water drops hitting canvass escalated. More troops walked in and lined the back wall after we had taken our seats.
A two-hour, superlative-laden briefing informed us of how advanced the training technology being used was, how much the Canadian Forces are coming to rely on reservists overseas and how similar the training environment is to the real Afghanistan.
The opposition forces, played by Canadian soldiers, are troops who have been over there and learned first hand how the Taliban operates. That first-hand experience is complimented by continual intelligence reports relayed back to Wainwright from Kandahar, detailing new Taliban strategy.
"There is no other kind of opposition force in the country with this level of expertise," said Col. Gerry Mann, commander of 32 Canadian Brigade Group.
Afghan-Canadians have been inserted into the mock villages, which use real names like Spin Boldak and Loy Karezak, throughout the 640-square-kilometre training ground to role-play as religious leaders, Afghan politicians, warlords, villagers and Taliban. Mann says reporters are not allowed to interview or photograph them, for fear that they'd be identified and ostracized in the Afghan-Canadian community.
"They don't want it getting out that they are helping Canadian soldiers to go overseas and potentially kill Afghans," Mann said.
They speak Farsi and troops must rely on translators to communicate with them.
We were told CFB Wainwright is the only place on the planet using the $100-million laser-based weapons simulation training system used at this exercise. Soldiers on the exercise fire blanks that active laser pulses off their gun barrel. Those laser pulses, when aimed and shot successfully at one or more of the 14 sensors on a human target, will register hits into a computer hard drive that can be reviewed and dissected post-exercise like game film. On a human target, the hits register either a fatal or non-fatal wound. If the wound is non-fatal, a computer tells the soldier how to act following the shot.
"If the soldier is told he lost an arm, then the laser will disable and they won't be able to shoot," said. Capt. Tom St. Denis, a public affairs officer.
Severe, but non-fatal, wounds set off a "life timer" that ticks down while the wounded soldier waits for medical help. If medics do not arrive, the soldier is registered as killed when the life timer expires. Vehicle targets are also equipped with sensors that calculate how badly damaged the vehicle is as soon as a hit is registered.
The night fell as we were inside the tent. A chilly Prairie night greeted us when the tent door flapped open, allowing us to retreat to our sleeping bags and cots. A mid-night attack is always a possibility, we were told, eliciting groans and nervous laughs from the jet-lagged cadre of journalists.
We went to sleep to the sounds of landing and departing aircraft, half-expecting an earth-shattering explosion to rouse us from our hot and tapered military sleeping bags.
Tomorrow we will be shipping out, tagging along with an assigned company and hopefully not getting in the way of complex combat procedures.We were told to expect some standoffish behaviour from troops not used to having reporters around.
Next: We were told the fun would begin tomorrow.
Ellie
Brock Harrison / Osprey News Network
Local News - Tuesday, August 21, 2007 @ 07:00
Twenty of us arrived here, behind schedule, on the type of rickety old school bus they send U.S. Marines off to train in.
With notebooks in hand and cameras slung around our necks, we crested a rare Alberta Prairie hill as the bus windows rattled and we saw rows upon seemingly endless rows of slumping army green tents against a hazy grey backdrop.
A helicopter flew by overhead.
A pair of armed and uniformed reserve troops guarded the barbed-wire gate into "Kandahar Air Field" and two manned sniper towers flanked the gravel road into the base. The gun barrels were poking out the windows. We were later told the sentry patrol is 24/7.
The rain started lightly when we got off the bus in front of a giant white tent, the cafeteria. About a dozen reservists were in the midst of supper. They weren't talking to each other and they didn't so much as flinch when the reporters walked in.
We were taught how to prepare IMPs (individual meal packs) and told that some of them could be up to 10 years old. I dropped my silver vacuum-packed meat ball bag into a vat of boiling water and waited for it to float to the surface. That meant it was ready.
This is what we'd be eating, we were told, for the rest of the exercise.
Each pack contains upwards of 4,500 calories and supplies an active soldier with all
the nutrients needed to sustain life.
By law, soldiers cannot go more than 45 days
living on IMPs alone.
Also in the pack: Cookies, instant coffee, desert, a selection of sauces and condiments, and a piece of bread that looked and tasted like a Nerf ball.
As we trudged to our sleeping quarters across an open field after dinner, some of us still wearing the blue jeans and bright shirts we flew in from Toronto with, the sensation of sticking out mounted. Passing-by troops would stare and not say anything.
We were led into a tent with a projection screen and three well-proportioned soldiers standing beside it. The sound of water drops hitting canvass escalated. More troops walked in and lined the back wall after we had taken our seats.
A two-hour, superlative-laden briefing informed us of how advanced the training technology being used was, how much the Canadian Forces are coming to rely on reservists overseas and how similar the training environment is to the real Afghanistan.
The opposition forces, played by Canadian soldiers, are troops who have been over there and learned first hand how the Taliban operates. That first-hand experience is complimented by continual intelligence reports relayed back to Wainwright from Kandahar, detailing new Taliban strategy.
"There is no other kind of opposition force in the country with this level of expertise," said Col. Gerry Mann, commander of 32 Canadian Brigade Group.
Afghan-Canadians have been inserted into the mock villages, which use real names like Spin Boldak and Loy Karezak, throughout the 640-square-kilometre training ground to role-play as religious leaders, Afghan politicians, warlords, villagers and Taliban. Mann says reporters are not allowed to interview or photograph them, for fear that they'd be identified and ostracized in the Afghan-Canadian community.
"They don't want it getting out that they are helping Canadian soldiers to go overseas and potentially kill Afghans," Mann said.
They speak Farsi and troops must rely on translators to communicate with them.
We were told CFB Wainwright is the only place on the planet using the $100-million laser-based weapons simulation training system used at this exercise. Soldiers on the exercise fire blanks that active laser pulses off their gun barrel. Those laser pulses, when aimed and shot successfully at one or more of the 14 sensors on a human target, will register hits into a computer hard drive that can be reviewed and dissected post-exercise like game film. On a human target, the hits register either a fatal or non-fatal wound. If the wound is non-fatal, a computer tells the soldier how to act following the shot.
"If the soldier is told he lost an arm, then the laser will disable and they won't be able to shoot," said. Capt. Tom St. Denis, a public affairs officer.
Severe, but non-fatal, wounds set off a "life timer" that ticks down while the wounded soldier waits for medical help. If medics do not arrive, the soldier is registered as killed when the life timer expires. Vehicle targets are also equipped with sensors that calculate how badly damaged the vehicle is as soon as a hit is registered.
The night fell as we were inside the tent. A chilly Prairie night greeted us when the tent door flapped open, allowing us to retreat to our sleeping bags and cots. A mid-night attack is always a possibility, we were told, eliciting groans and nervous laughs from the jet-lagged cadre of journalists.
We went to sleep to the sounds of landing and departing aircraft, half-expecting an earth-shattering explosion to rouse us from our hot and tapered military sleeping bags.
Tomorrow we will be shipping out, tagging along with an assigned company and hopefully not getting in the way of complex combat procedures.We were told to expect some standoffish behaviour from troops not used to having reporters around.
Next: We were told the fun would begin tomorrow.
Ellie