A Battlefield Tourist

If There Was Just Security…

Feb 19 at 12:12pm by David Tate

3/8 PMT Marines, with Afghan National Police, patrol the District Center of Musa Qala, Helmand Province.

February 16, 2009

I’ve always believed that the key to “winning” in Afghanistan is standing up a functioning military that can deal, on its own, with national security issues.  I really don’t believe that means Afghanistan is a “loss” if it can’t be turned into a peace loving, everyone’s-on-the-same-page type of society.  The fact is, that is not going to happen in our lifetime.  What will happen within the next 20 years (yes, 20 years), is the ability for the Afghans to stand on their own, albeit embroiled in never-ending tribal disputes and local insurgencies.  If that is the case, the world will have done all they can for this country, from a military standpoint.

Police Mentoring Team (PMT)

I usually get up around 0730, get some breakfast and head off to the internet access while the rest of the Marines sleep.  At that time, folks in the states are just going to sleep themselves, which enables me to get a fresh story online by the time you wake up (do not hold me to this standard).

Patrols heading out into Musa Qala vary in time, obviously due to security reasons.  On this day, we were “stepping out” in the mid-afternoon for what would essentially amount to a “presence patrol”, meaning exactly that.

In general, these patrols follow a simple pattern:

Using the Afghan National Police at the front and back of formation, the unit pushes out from the center of town into one direction or another for anywhere from 2-5 hours.  In that time, the Marines are projecting a competent, professional looking police force, mentoring said police, providing presence security and conducting census interviews.

Presence Patrol

We walked past the voter registration site on the way out of the the base, which has been quite busy since I got here earlier in the week (Afghanistan’s second presidential election is rescheduled for August).

We worked our way around the HESCO barriers that protect this particular gate and straight out onto Main Street.  The Afghan Police were ordered out into the street to prevent traffic from coming to close to the patrol, allowing everyone to file out into the road.

The patrol doesn’t allow people or vehicles to approach it while in the city, forcing everyone to stop while they past.  The Marines operate with an escalation of force philosiphy that begins with hand and verbal commands, then escalates to the firing of “pin flares”, then on to warning shot until the final step of deadly force may be used.  Things happen quickly in these situations and decisions must be sharp.

“STOP! STOP!,” immediately followed by the sound of a bottle rocket and a loud “POP!”.

The pin flares are shot at the motorcycles and other vehicles that, for whatever reason, push the boundaries.

“We’ve split a windshield and almost set a roof on fire with these things,” referring to the flares, which are fired from a small tube using a spring device for a trigger.

As we move along main street, it is absolutely clear that there are many people that are either sympathizers of, or actual full fledged Taliban.  The stares coming from some of their faces were as cold as I’ve ever witnessed.  No doubt a casual walk into this city unescorted would mean certain kidnapping or death.

For some reason, though, the LMT Marines have had no trouble since they got here. Much of the speculation about that is that the District Center is the economic hub of the enemy and they have a vested interest in NOT bringing the fight here.  In any event, I am constantly watching for the guy with a bomb-laden motorcycle, or even worse, the average pedestrian that is packed with hand grenades and nails.

As we pushed down main street and stopped by one of the ANP posts that are set up at each end to monitor, and usually search, those coming and going through the DC. We spent a few minutes there as the Marines check in with the commander to see how things are.  I take the opportunity to get some video clips as well as a few bites of an Afghan lunch consisting of a very greasy meat, rice and nan (very common combination).

Away From Main St.

Beyond the hustle and bustle of main street, we turn along a large wadi and then cut back toward the DC which turns into a maze of alleys that have been created by the dozens of walled compounds that extend out from the center.  Those compounds are augmented by smaller mud walls that create boundaries and the irrigation system used to water whatever crop that is growing.  In Musa Qala, it is either wheat, a form of hay and poppy.

As we move through the maze, some adults are questioned for census information by the Marines while others, especially those on motorbikes, are searched for weapons or other war contraband by the Afghan Police.  Marines here have no orders to interdict drugs, making it a non-issue.

For a few hours we make our way through the fields, over ditches and down the “alleyways” of Musa Qala.  All along the way the Marines continue passing out toys, mittens and school supplies while I run back, and forth from the front of the column to the back, getting video and photos of whatever interests me. 

While the adults aren’t always nice, the children seem fascinated with the Marines; maybe they genuinely are or maybe they just want a handout.  Regardless, one thing is for sure; just about every one of them knows at least one word of English and that’s “pen”.  They all say, “pen” as you pass them.  Often times in shy voices accompanied by the thumbs up sign of universal approval

The Marines know there’s a long way to go in setting up a fully functional police force:  One that doesn’t steal, doesn’t shakedown shop owners and is professional in job and appearance.  Up until two weeks ago, it was difficult to get the men to wear their vest plates and kevlar.  Sometimes, when a top commander goes missing, so does the police force itself. 

The hurdles are huge, but ultimately the most important part of this conflict, because without security, there’s no farmers bringing products to market, there’s no freedom of movement to allow these people the chance to feed their families. Without security, there is nothing.