InsaneApache
01-19-2006, 18:07
This is from a friend of mine.
This is my experience of my tour of Siera Leone seven years ago.
The Operation-Op Pallasar, the country- Siera Leone. Was Siera Leone an experience? Yes, it was no holiday, it was the hardest six month tour I have ever done (and I have been to some serious shxtholes!!)
On arrival nothing could have prepared me for the what I was to experience, the cultural difference and living standard hit me in the face like a brick wall. To see these people living in the dust in shacks with pot bellies brought on from starvation was a realisation I had never felt before, people so desperate that they would kill each other for one of our 24hour ration packs. This was made evident when during a mobile patrol of the airports jungle line an African kid no older then 10 years old was running behind our rover shouting at us for anything we would throw out. We decided to stop and one of the lads through him his ration pack. The face on this kid was heart wrenching, to him it was the equivalent of you getting five number and the bonus ball on the lottery.
We set off again happy in the knowledge that we had made a little boys year. About 50 metres further on we saw two male adults approach the boy, one with a branch in his hand, they began to beat the boy to the floor were the man with the branch continued to beat the boy over the head showing no remorse what so ever. "STOP THIS FXCKING ROVER NOW!!!!" we were of the back of the rover before the driver had time to hit the brakes, weapons were cocked and faces tensed, these fxckers were seconds away from disability. It was at that time that the patrol commander came over the radio "Hello 2 3 Charlie, this is 2 3 Alpha. Return to your vehicle and return to Zero NOW out"
I truly could not believe what I was hearing, this boy was being kicked to death and we was unable to assist.
Back at HQ we got the bollocking of our lives, followed by a full briefing as to why we were not allowed to give anything to the locals. To be honest having witnessed the earlier events that had already filtered in, these people will do anything for stuff you would normally throw away. Survival of the fittest has never been more evident then in Siera Leone.
From that day on, any unused rations were taken to a large pit measuring about ten foot by ten foot, and burned. The pit was surrounded by razor wire because the kids from the local village would surround the pit every morning and watch us burn food in front of them. I swear burning food while watching their faces was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life.
We were up at 0500 hrs every morning to 'stand to' (laying motionless with weapons pointed towards the enemy threat for any imminent attack) for three hours until first light (the British army work to the fact that an enemy will attack at first and last light in order to surprise their enemies)
This was when I experienced the scariest moment of my tour, no it wasn't an enemy attack. While laying in my shell scrape (a small dug out shallow bed used as a fire position) I noticed something on my hand, as I looked I saw it was a small spider no bigger then a finger nail. Now as I suffer from arachnophobia the sight of a spider on my hand was normally enough to make me squeel like a woman but on this occasion I found myself shocked to my core as I noticed a small brown hour glass figure on the spiders back. We had been briefed on Black Widows, snakes, bats and the rest of the nasties the jungle had to offer but to be honest none of us took much notice. I fxcking was now!! I was laying on the ground staring at a bloody black widow which had decided to take a break on the back of my bleeding hand!! I was unable to move, not through the fear of the spider biting me but by fear itself. The guy I was sharing the shell scrape with told me that it moved off after a couple of minutes though I swear it was a couple of hours!! From that day on the bloody enemy (RUF) could have walked straight over me and I wouldn't have noticed, I spent those hours searching my shell scrape for my own personal enemy!!
Three months in and we got a new task, we were to escort deliveries of medical aid to death hospital (as we named it) an experience that will haunt me till the day I die. On my first visit I walked in to a long room with no beds, just Africans lying on blankets on the floor. One man was laying between a man and a woman who had past away, it was evident by the look in his eyes that he knew he was next. The surprising thing is that I couldn't see any old people, when I asked one of the nurses about it she stated that the life expectancy of people living here was 31. The conditions were terrible and the smell of death was so potent that it made me physically sick.
As for the Enemy? The RUF were one of the most feared organisations Siera Leone had ever known, they aged from 12 years old to mid twenties, we actually caught a young lad just inside the jungle line together with his AK47, it was when I saw his eyes that it became clear why they were so feared. He was as high as a kite. Before any operation or attack the RUF get so high that they have no fear what so ever. A class A drug and an AK47 is a dangerous brew were ever you are!!
It wasn't all doom and gloom though. Once we were back at Lungi airport we were treated to various displays from the UN's special forces (basically it was Generals showing off to each other) First it was the Nigerians who went through their version of a section attack, followed by the Canadians (who have fantastic ration packs), Pakistan, and finally the much awaited SAS. While the rest of the UN bigwigs were sat looking smug the rest of us were looking out towards the airfield for the boys, nothing then a Hercules came over our heads and I shxt you not this thing was at 90 degrees as it approached it levelled out with a perfect landing, absolutely superb flying. As it taxied down the runway the back door came down and they were off!! The Herc had hardly touched down but these boys were not for waiting, one by one they exited the back of the plane and one by one they rolled into a perfect fire position. Once the last man was off the doors were up and the herc was in the sky.
AMAZING!!!
Anyway I have rambled on enough now, I just thought I would share my experience with you
Just shows how we in the West are indeed very fortunate.
This is my experience of my tour of Siera Leone seven years ago.
The Operation-Op Pallasar, the country- Siera Leone. Was Siera Leone an experience? Yes, it was no holiday, it was the hardest six month tour I have ever done (and I have been to some serious shxtholes!!)
On arrival nothing could have prepared me for the what I was to experience, the cultural difference and living standard hit me in the face like a brick wall. To see these people living in the dust in shacks with pot bellies brought on from starvation was a realisation I had never felt before, people so desperate that they would kill each other for one of our 24hour ration packs. This was made evident when during a mobile patrol of the airports jungle line an African kid no older then 10 years old was running behind our rover shouting at us for anything we would throw out. We decided to stop and one of the lads through him his ration pack. The face on this kid was heart wrenching, to him it was the equivalent of you getting five number and the bonus ball on the lottery.
We set off again happy in the knowledge that we had made a little boys year. About 50 metres further on we saw two male adults approach the boy, one with a branch in his hand, they began to beat the boy to the floor were the man with the branch continued to beat the boy over the head showing no remorse what so ever. "STOP THIS FXCKING ROVER NOW!!!!" we were of the back of the rover before the driver had time to hit the brakes, weapons were cocked and faces tensed, these fxckers were seconds away from disability. It was at that time that the patrol commander came over the radio "Hello 2 3 Charlie, this is 2 3 Alpha. Return to your vehicle and return to Zero NOW out"
I truly could not believe what I was hearing, this boy was being kicked to death and we was unable to assist.
Back at HQ we got the bollocking of our lives, followed by a full briefing as to why we were not allowed to give anything to the locals. To be honest having witnessed the earlier events that had already filtered in, these people will do anything for stuff you would normally throw away. Survival of the fittest has never been more evident then in Siera Leone.
From that day on, any unused rations were taken to a large pit measuring about ten foot by ten foot, and burned. The pit was surrounded by razor wire because the kids from the local village would surround the pit every morning and watch us burn food in front of them. I swear burning food while watching their faces was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life.
We were up at 0500 hrs every morning to 'stand to' (laying motionless with weapons pointed towards the enemy threat for any imminent attack) for three hours until first light (the British army work to the fact that an enemy will attack at first and last light in order to surprise their enemies)
This was when I experienced the scariest moment of my tour, no it wasn't an enemy attack. While laying in my shell scrape (a small dug out shallow bed used as a fire position) I noticed something on my hand, as I looked I saw it was a small spider no bigger then a finger nail. Now as I suffer from arachnophobia the sight of a spider on my hand was normally enough to make me squeel like a woman but on this occasion I found myself shocked to my core as I noticed a small brown hour glass figure on the spiders back. We had been briefed on Black Widows, snakes, bats and the rest of the nasties the jungle had to offer but to be honest none of us took much notice. I fxcking was now!! I was laying on the ground staring at a bloody black widow which had decided to take a break on the back of my bleeding hand!! I was unable to move, not through the fear of the spider biting me but by fear itself. The guy I was sharing the shell scrape with told me that it moved off after a couple of minutes though I swear it was a couple of hours!! From that day on the bloody enemy (RUF) could have walked straight over me and I wouldn't have noticed, I spent those hours searching my shell scrape for my own personal enemy!!
Three months in and we got a new task, we were to escort deliveries of medical aid to death hospital (as we named it) an experience that will haunt me till the day I die. On my first visit I walked in to a long room with no beds, just Africans lying on blankets on the floor. One man was laying between a man and a woman who had past away, it was evident by the look in his eyes that he knew he was next. The surprising thing is that I couldn't see any old people, when I asked one of the nurses about it she stated that the life expectancy of people living here was 31. The conditions were terrible and the smell of death was so potent that it made me physically sick.
As for the Enemy? The RUF were one of the most feared organisations Siera Leone had ever known, they aged from 12 years old to mid twenties, we actually caught a young lad just inside the jungle line together with his AK47, it was when I saw his eyes that it became clear why they were so feared. He was as high as a kite. Before any operation or attack the RUF get so high that they have no fear what so ever. A class A drug and an AK47 is a dangerous brew were ever you are!!
It wasn't all doom and gloom though. Once we were back at Lungi airport we were treated to various displays from the UN's special forces (basically it was Generals showing off to each other) First it was the Nigerians who went through their version of a section attack, followed by the Canadians (who have fantastic ration packs), Pakistan, and finally the much awaited SAS. While the rest of the UN bigwigs were sat looking smug the rest of us were looking out towards the airfield for the boys, nothing then a Hercules came over our heads and I shxt you not this thing was at 90 degrees as it approached it levelled out with a perfect landing, absolutely superb flying. As it taxied down the runway the back door came down and they were off!! The Herc had hardly touched down but these boys were not for waiting, one by one they exited the back of the plane and one by one they rolled into a perfect fire position. Once the last man was off the doors were up and the herc was in the sky.
AMAZING!!!
Anyway I have rambled on enough now, I just thought I would share my experience with you
Just shows how we in the West are indeed very fortunate.