In the midst of the fight

Herrick 18 Stories

Capt Mau Gris. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Captain Mau Gris is team leader for the British Army’s Combat Camera Team (CCT) based in Afghanistan throughout the summer 2013 as part of 1 Mechanized Brigade. Op Herrick 18′s CCT also includes Sergeant Barry Lloyd – video cameraman – and Sergeant Barry Pope – photographer.

This trip was the reason we exist, though at the time we didn’t know it. Going in alongside fighting troops to capture their experiences and help out if required.

‘If you don’t get it, you might as well not be there’

It was only meant to be an hour and a half on the cordon for a search operation. The team and I had been put with 3 troop of the Brigade Reconnaissance Force (BRF) along with Matt Cook, a war artist covering the search for bomb making equipment.

I didn’t really think much was going to happen. They aren’t going to put a war artist in the thick of it; even though Matt Cook, who has illustrated for The Times, is a hugely experienced war artist. We would be stuck in one place, the boys would cover it in five minutes; then there’d be an hour of sitting around.

If there is anything that two previous tours has taught me; it’s always those little trips that prove the most interesting.  We inserted as we had with the Brigade Operations Company before, with the ground assault force. I knew what was coming (read about that here…) – a ride in my favourite vehicle, the Warthog.

The insertion was as expected, hot, cramped and dusty. Without going into to much detail, the place we were had a bad reputation, everyone was a little on edge and keen to get into some cover.

We moved off into the green zone. I could see we were going to get some great material from here. It was that classic Helmand landscape, lush green in places, working out to desert through various shades of brown and beige. Photogenic but dangerous, as hiding amongst it is easy to do.

4 Troop of the Brigade Reconnaissance Force.

Lloydie and his Holiness were moving up and down the line of troops as they moved out to get those ‘patrolling shots’ that have graced fronts covers and illustrated reports for 10 years. I had one eye on them; and one eye on the 3D handycam that I was attempting and failing to master.

We gained access to a compound with the guys fanning out to cover the surrounding area. Using ladders guys clambered up to the roofs to increase their line of sight. I suggested to Matt, did he want to get up to get some pictures? He takes pictures on the ground to work from later. He said, ‘yup,’ and clambered up.

I then moved the ladder to a nearby compound climbing up myself. The moment I reached the top of the ladder, three bullets cracked overhead in rapid succession. Accurate, controlled and close. I dropped down. Immediately regretting telling Matt to get up then taking away his only method of getting down. The lads started returning fire, adding to the noise. The guys were shouting;

‘Get cookie off the roof. Get him down.. Now!’

‘Who’s Cookie?!

‘The fudging war artist, you know, THE CIVVY.’

‘Oh, fudge’ (or words to that effect.)

Same risk

Matt hadn’t been with the guys that long so the nickname threw everyone. I was already moving the ladder. Matt climbed down smiling like a Cheshire cat. Adrenaline has that effect on some people.

To report the incident, we needed more than just the audio of guys firing, so I told the two Baz(s) to get up there and gather the material. It was at this point that I paused. Previously, when I have ordered soldiers to put themselves in at risk; in situations like this one, the reasoning is clear. It would give us an advantage on the battlefield. Now the risk verses reward was not as clear cut.

In the end it came down to the basic reason for our existence as a combat camera team; as it is in our mission statement: “The Combat Camera Team provides broadcast standard news footage, audio content, photographic images and copy on stories involving the British Army which, for reasons of national or foreign security, operational necessity or general sensitivity, would not ordinarily be available to the public media.”

Capturing the action on film.

We take the same risk to show people what our fellow soldier goes through. We were in danger anyway and if you don’t get it, you might as well not be there in the first place. Lloydie and His Holiness were straight up there.

The contact tailed off quickly, and we had to move to a new compound. Before moving, I tried capturing the reality of what a fire fight sounds like for the soldiers, whilst it was fresh in their minds and because I had recorded the actual fire fight I would be speaking to them about. So I made a quick recording with one of the guys before we moved out.

Troops of the Brigade Reconnaissance Force.

Troops of the Brigade Reconnaissance Force.

Troops of the Brigade Reconnaissance Force.

You can listen to that here: Crack,Thump. It’s only a minute or so long but the feeling is there, and we were preoccupied at the time. We moved off to get a better view of the area and ended up on the border where green zone meets desert, in a raised compound. Lloydie hopped up to the best vantage point and me and his Holiness hung around Matt Cook as he sketched.

Matt Cook takes notes.

Matt Cook takes photos of the soldiers to draw from later.

As the firing had died down the guys went back to the original tasking of compound searching for any enemy weapons stashes. It wasn’t long before it picked up again.

A hollow sound, like something being spat out of a tube; followed the shout of ‘incoming..,’ The troops dived for any available cover. A pregnant pause preceded the dull impact and explosion of a grenade launched from a UGL (underslung grenade launcher).

With the same accuracy of the initial engagement, the grenade had landed 30 metres behind me and between the Baz(s). A bullet landing on the domed roof two metres in front of Lloydie meant it was probably time to move.

Before we got the chance, another shout of ‘incoming.’ This grenade landed within 15 metres of his Holiness. Lloydie hopped off the roof and joined Baz Pope and me beside a wall which offered us cover. As the BRF suppressed the enemy, with their own grenade launchers, the fire eased up.

At that point, I poked my head above the wall. A ‘crack’ followed by that small puff of dust on a compound wall not far from my head made be duck back down. It felt personal.

Duck!

Contact with the enemy.

The combat camera team with war artist Matt Cook.

As I was the only one exposed, he could only have been shooting at me. This has happened before, but it is rare and I always come away feeling the same. Despite my chosen profession; it still strikes me as strange from an objective point of view that someone would try to kill me or I them, despite no personal grievance between us.

It is an obvious thing to say, and naive too, I am sure some would also say. It’s not something that I dwell on or particularly think about other than when I am in the situation or immediately afterwards. Or when I am blogging…

After that, we were joined by the guys who would be taking our place. These guys had landed with the main body on the helicopter assault force and had experienced more fighting than we had that day, but not without reward.

Some significant finds had been made. Enemy machine guns, thousands of rounds of ammunition, and bomb making equipment had all been uncovered. For us though after only an hour and a half, the operation was over.

We returned to Patrol Base Lashkar Gah Durai, not minding the Warthog ride as much as usual; anticipating the material we had gathered and the stories we could tell. The guys from the BRF were interested in what we had gathered as well. There’s a certain pride in seeing the interest and the reaction of the guys to the footage the team had produced.

There was one downside. We hadn’t seen the stuff being found, so we couldn’t tell that story as well as we should be able to. Secondhand recollections and helmet cam footage - poor material for us to build the story with. The curse of TV or photographic reporting - ‘If you didn’t get it and you can’t show it, you might as well have not been there’.

If you want to see the photos we get or those recordings I make; follow me on Twitter or Soundcloud.

Speak to you soon.

Read Mau’s other blogs here: Capt Mau Gris

Follow Mau on Twitter: @mau_gris

Strap kit down, buckle-up, enjoy… the never ending ride (Pt2)

Corporal Si Longworth in Afghanistan

Corporal Si Longworth is one of 38 trained British Army photographers. He left a career in aviation to pursue his passion for photography; capturing everything that military life has to offer. He is currently in Afghanistan as the Task Force Helmand Photographer on Op HERRICK 18.

Alarm clocks…

…Interesting things that we all rely on a day to day basis to meet our daily schedule. I hadn’t needed one so far. At Lashkar Gah, between all the guys in the morning who rustle around the tented accommodation at ‘sparrow’s fart’, the morning tent-shaking delivery of stores from whatever helicopter passes overhead, or the fact that there are plastic windows that are never closed in our pod, ever, it’s pretty much guaranteed that I will be awake with plenty of time on my hands to get to the gym, have breakfast and walk to work at an unbelievably slow pace.

Annoying as that all is each morning, what it does mean is I don’t have to worry about not waking up or setting an alarm. Ok, the helicopter may change its schedule, but the sun will definitely still rise, and I would risk my house on the fact that somebody will catch some part of their body armour’s male Velcro, on the female Velcro surrounding the tent doorway, and have to prise themselves off it. It’s not that noise that wakes me; it’s the angry vocal expletive that accompanies it that does… but also makes me chuckle.

So there I was at MOB Price having expected to be on a flight home, but instead being told that I was up and out first thing in the morning on another operation. It was around 2000 hrs when I finally got into the transit accommodation, and I was due to be up and out at 0300 hrs. I have no clean clothes, and not really any time to wash them. I had to dig into my kit, re-pack, dust everything off and charge all my camera batteries, which were flat. The unit’s press officer was looking me after. He was gracious enough to loan me a pair of clean socks for the off. I will get them back to him at some point..

I decided to take a chance and swill one set of underwear out in the sinks. I left it hanging outside the tent and hoped for the best.

I turned my camera kit around and re-packed and finally laid down at around 2200 hrs. As I laid there eyelids flickering, it occurred to me that I had absolutely no way of ensuring I was up ready to be out at three. Jumped out of bed, and ran over to the NAAFI. They had sold out of alarm clocks so I ran over to where the press officer worked. He had called it a night and I didn’t know where he lived. There was hardly anyone around camp to even ask, so decided to head back to my room. When I got back, another traveller had slipped in, and was just unpacking his gear. It was a cruel call, but I sweet-talked him into setting an alarm on his iPad to wake me up. Nice one.. Shut eye, at last.

Obsessive neatness

You never really get a good night’s sleep when you know you are up early. This was no different. I engaged autopilot from the second I heard the beep beep. Shower, shave. The usual drill, with eyes wide shut. I grabbed my undies. Yep, they were still damp, but that would be refreshing so on they went.

My transit accommodation was a good 10-minute walk down to the ‘dust bowl’. This was an area where visiting vehicles could leaguer up. It was a fairly enthusiastic walk as I had finally woken up and I knew whom I was going to meet up with. It was 32 Sqn, 3 CLSR and the men and women from the Combat Logistic Patrol I had been out with previously. (If you haven’t read that, I would ready that first, here)

I got down there and ‘tipped my hat’ to the OC, Major Rob Futter, and the Squadron Sergeant Major, WO2 Grant Turley. It was good to see them all again, as we had shared some laughs on the previous trip. This time, I was going to take a seat with the OC in his command vehicle, which was a Mastiff. The crew consisted of Taff, a Welsh Reservist, Britt, a man with obsessive neatness around the vehicle, Tex, the OC’s signaller and a crap-hand at poker (which reminds me of the 20 you owe me..) and the boss. They made me feel as welcome as ever. I was even given a computer to play around with in the back, and shown the text communication systems.

The OC filled me in on all the finer details of the plan. Simple as always. Convoy move to a location, rest up and be prepared to provide logistical support where necessary. As always, I squeezed out the information that was relevant to me. The whole task was going to last between three and nine days. I am sure I made the confirmatory sniff to the armpits of my shirt as subtle as possible when the OC gave me the time-frame. Actually, why was I worried? Even though the convoy was going to top my first bout of 26 hours by nearly another 10, I was in good spirits, because we could wash our gear at our end location; couldn’t we? Well actually, no. There was no room at the inn for the amount of axles we rolled with, so we were going to once again leaguer up in the desert. I even managed to crack a smile.

Once on the road I got down to the usual task of getting what images I could from the top hatch. We were trucking through the desert this time, and the scenery was different from the green zone, but unfortunately a bit bland.

Convoy

I got convoy images, but wanted to catch the OC in his top cover duties as that made for a more interesting shot, and wouldn’t be posed. This proved more difficult than you can imagine. As a photographer, I wanted everything to be as ‘perfect’ as it can be, for the picture. Sure there are always outtakes and images that never see the light of day, but as this is a blog about photography, as much as it is about being an Army Photographer I want you to see the differences. During a convoy that is heading in one direction for hours and hours, it’s hard to get the shot you want (if you are only using available light) when the sun is in the wrong place. This is also made worse when you can’t be stood there for hours and hours. I was popping up and down as the patrol moved on and kept on checking on my friend, the sun.

Here is an image that doesn’t make the cut. The light is not that great.

The first go: bad light spoilt play

However, when the ‘stars align’, in this case, the sun, the whole image can be turned around. I hope you agree, it was worth trying again and again.

Second time lucky: Same angle, different light

Happy with that image, I sat down again in my seat and pondered the mysteries of life for another five or six hours until our first rest stop. I am aware that after my last blog a lot of people are interested in the bodily functions that us guys and girls have to do when we are locked in the back of a moving vehicle for so long, and need to keep hydrated. Let’s just say that as the hours roll on by, the collection of full bottles builds up at the back of the wagon. Fortunately, different manufacturers make bottles with varying opening sizes. Hang on, hang on; before you all run your minds off to the gutter please let me explain. The smaller water bottles are great for the tarmac roads, whilst the energy drink ‘Gatorade’ sized bottles are more your rough-terrain pee-bottle. If you use all your supply of larger bottles up too early in the journey, whilst still on the tarmac, then purging one’s self could become quite interesting when it comes to the uneven ground. Trust me; when the truck is bouncing in every direction, the last thing you want is to do is worry about a ‘rogue stream’.

 Bodo and Onyx

On and on we rolled. Mile after mile. I did laugh at the fact that I had only done a journey like this several weeks earlier and had decided that as good an experience it was; there wasn’t much photographic benefit to it. But, the juice was definitely worth the squeeze on this occasion, because I would be spending time with another group of very different people and getting to know how the CLSR does business in a Leaguer. Tex was good company too. He briefed me up on all the different nets the OC was chatting on, who to send texts to and when. It actually made the time pass by a little quicker being given something to do and not just be a passenger. I thank him for that. (But you still owe me 20)

Luckily for us, the journey was broken up with a five-hour stop over at a military base. In we rolled, parked up close and stretched our legs. I still laugh today as I recall watching a steady stream of people emerging from within the tightly woven vehicles in the general direction of the toilets, each person clutching a collection of bottles. Only the military would find this funny.

Break time for the convoy

The guys got down to administrating their vehicles in all sorts of ways. Dust filters needed cleaning, water stocks had to be updated, and minor repairs had to be made when bit’s had been damaged on the terrain. It was still daylight, but the sun was fading fast. Camp cots were being positioned all around, and once food had been consumed, it was time for shut-eye.

I busied myself grabbing pictures, and managed to snap Taff in front of a setting sun.

LCpl ‘Taff’ Davies

During our short stay, I met another two dogs. One was a protection dog, Bodo a Malin-cross, pictured below, who was handled by Private Chris Jones Royal Army Veterinary Corps and the other was a black Lab called Onyx, a search dog handled by Trooper Jordan Davies. (A ‘Tankie) Bodo took an instant like to me. Or was it the other way around? I have always loved dogs and always wanted one, but couldn’t justify it whilst in the Army. I am away too much to stress about keeping it exercised. One day maybe.

A toy for Bodo the military protection dog

After a few hours shut-eye, we rolled out. Thankfully it was only another three-hour sprint to our final destination. In the words of the fantastic Tina Turner; “Big wheels keep on rollin’”.

As we pulled into our intended leaguer area, the Danes where pitched up beside us, and behind them as if by magic were the Warthog Group; they had pipped us to the post. I smiled, as I know I would have had a much comfier ride than the guys on tracks. There is always somebody worse-off. I went and said hello to the guys. It had been little under 48 hours since I saw them last, but it was like a year break, and the catch-up banter was cruel, in a way I believe only soldiers understand.

Back over at the CLP leaguer area, everyone was starting to pitch camp, and find his or her little spots for the coming days. I was met by a frustrated looking Britt, who had shoe horned himself out of the driver’s position only to find the rear of his truck had been messed up by yours truly. He quickly got on with re-administering it. I joked he would make a good house-husband and his frown deepened. As I came to realise over the time I spent living with this truck full of guys is that having someone who takes great pride in making sure that every detail is ‘squared-away’ is a real god-send. To Britt, this mastiff was his baby, and he looked after it, and thus, looked after us. So thank you, man.

My bed, bottom right. The wind and sand was unforgiving.

One of the first things I noticed was how fine the desert sand was. It actually was more like dust, and there seemed to be a constant wind whipping up everywhere. Dust and sand got everywhere. There was no stopping it, and quite frankly, it was brutal. Nowhere was safe, less in a sealed wagon. It was a massive effort to keep all my kit and equipment clean and dust free. My two cameras took an intense beating whilst living here, but they still pulled through.

I set up my little living area. It wasn’t much. I hoisted up the satellite dish on to the roof and made a little working area. I thought this was going to be my office, but I hadn’t really thought it all through. I was hit with so many problems that I couldn’t have imagined. Up until now, I hadn’t really needed to communicate with the outside world, but I wanted to start sending updates back to HQ. For starters there was nowhere to charge my laptop and satellite. Thankfully, the ‘big-wheelers’ (Tank transporters) had a little gadget that converted 24v DC to a useable output. Next there was the sheer heat. At 42-45 in the shade, the computer does not do well. In fact, it doesn’t really ‘do’ at all. The trackpad does not sense your finger and the CPU overheats; probably from ingesting so much sand. Finally the battery power is greatly reduced. I am talking about a 30 minute window, if I could get the battery fully charged at all. The only charging window was when the trucks started up, and that was only twice daily, so I never really hit full charge. In reality, I managed to connect to the Internet for about 10-15 minutes daily. This was just enough to send an essential update to the real world. That was, until this happened…

Oops!

Someone had accidentally broken the main cable that gave me precious contact. So everyone can blame the sun, the sand and whoever snapped my cable, as these are the reasons why the latest blog has taken so long to get to you.

The Littlest Hobo

Over the next few days I spent time capturing different parts of the day; morning routine, exercise and the dogs. I kept wandering over to see Bodo, who always greeted me with a smile. (You haven’t seen the last of him)

Me and Bodo

The sand engrains itself into your skin throughout the day. Cpl Gethin Hiscocks, 3CLSR.

The Brits make use of the wind and a poncho, to pass the time. The Danish vehicles leaguered up in the background.

The Oscar Charlie prepares for the future.

I found a way to contact my boss using the text system in the vehicle. I had left a message and it had finally been received. I had been there a total of four days and had eaten far too much sand. My kit stunk. I had tried rinsing clothes through but only to have it dry stiff with infused sand. I was all pictured out. It was time to leave.

I managed to formulate an extraction plan, as I knew there was a resupply going to happen by helicopter. I was keen to get on a radio to my boss. Through the magic of radio satellite communications, Tex made it happen. I explained what I had done, and what my plan was to get out. My boss however, had different ideas. What he had found out was that there was another Op going on relatively close to where we were. Images were required, and unfortunately I was just too close to miss this opportunity. It was time to pack my bags. The ‘Littlest Hobo’ was on the move again. Just enough time to say my goodbyes and smash one last picture of Bodo and Private Chris Jones.

Bodo and Private Chris Jones

One last thing… Tex; you owe me 20!

To be continued…

Read Si’s other blogs here: Life Through a Lens…

Follow Si on Twitter: @Si_Army_Phot

The edge of the fight

Herrick 18 Stories

Capt Mau Gris. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Captain Mau Gris is team leader for the British Army’s Combat Camera Team (CCT) based in Afghanistan throughout the summer 2013 as part of 1 Mechanized Brigade. Op Herrick 18′s CCT also includes Sergeant Barry Lloyd – video cameraman – and Sergeant Barry Pope – photographer.

Fight the ‘deep battle’

For those of you who haven’t seen a Warthog vehicle, they are made up of two boxes of armour on some rubber tracks. Incredible vehicles really, it’s just like someone over six-foot trying to actually fit in one comfortably – impossible.

If by some miracle you do manage to fit, don’t fall asleep. Unfortunately soldiers are programmed from basic training, to sleep anywhere. Particularly if they are about to be up for a long time and for some reason, particularly if you are on transport. So I fell asleep. Bad mistake.

All credit to the Royal Tank Regiment, I slept soundly for the whole journey, although I woke up with my head stuck at 90 degrees for the first 30 mins of the operation; and my neck in pain for rest of the Irish Guards operation (op) on the border of the green zone. This was an op to clear an area in the east of Helmand of enemy weapons stashes.

The Irish Guards are the Brigade Operations Company for this tour. The BOC as they are called, are there to fight the ‘deep battle.’ By this I mean their sole purpose is to target the enemy where he least suspects it and take his ‘lethal aid,’ the stuff he uses to attack us; bomb-making kit, ammunition, weapons.

The BOC prepares for Op DAAS NAIZAH. By Sgt Barry Pope RLC (phot)

Soldiers from 1 Irish guards on Op DAAS NAIZAH. By Sgt Barry Pope RLC (phot)

Soldiers from 1 Irish guards on Op DAAS NAIZAH. By Sgt Barry Pope RLC (phot)

Soldiers from 1 Irish guards on Op DAAS NAIZAH. By Sgt Barry Pope RLC (phot)

Brush with the enemy

Before heading out on their task, they dropped us off at a compound with the tactical headquarters to watch the sweep start before we joined it. All was well initially, the guys got off to a good start clearing compounds as we watched them from afar.

Then the first rounds were exchanged. The enemy had reorganized and were fighting back after seeing what the troops were doing. It’s a strange thing; immediately looking to get somewhere more exposed when the shooting starts; but as a team we have to get the footage or stills of the action as it happens, to get the story.

As it was, the action was just out of sight and focused on the troops who had landed with the Helicopter assault force and it was cut short by the Apaches arriving overhead. I had a strange mix of emotions. From a professional perspective I was a tad frustrated on missing what could have been an interesting story, mixed with relief for the guys that it was over. Though we still had the rest of the day for excitement.

Following the BOC’s initial brush with the enemy, we moved out of the command compound and on to the ground with another set of guys. Just in time to see them uncover a hidden enemy weapons stash; which had home made explosives.

Explosive Ordnance Disposal team at work searching for IEDs. By Sgt Barry Pope RLC (phot)

Ordnance Disposal team at work. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (phot)

Explosive Ordnance Disposal team at work. Sgt Barry Pope (RLC) phot

Enemy stockpiles

This gave us a great chance to see the Explosive and Ordnance Disposal (EOD) guys at work. I suspect there is nothing they like better than blowing stuff up. Following a suitably large bang, we continued on with the search.

Throughout the day there would be sporadic shooting as the enemy sought to harass and distract the Irish from their task but the focus of the troops meant that once the day was over five enemy stockpiles had been discovered.

For the combat camera team, we had had a productive time with the BOC. It was a chance to test our working methods amongst the some of the best troops around and, strangely, I found myself coming away frustrated at not getting more of the action, but pleased that we had been give the chance to test ourselves in a near fight before we were actually in the line of fire.

Soldiers from the 1st battalion the Irish guards on Op DAAS NAIZAH. By Sgt Barry Pope RLC (phot)

Soldiers from the 1st battalion the Irish guards on Op DAAS NAIZAH. By Sgt Barry Pope RLC (phot)

Capt Mau Gris recharges his batteries before the operation. By Sgt Barry Pope RLC (phot)

See you next time guys.

Read Mau’s other blogs here: Capt Mau Gris

Follow Mau on Twitter: @mau_gris

Strap kit down, buckle-up, enjoy… the never ending ride (Pt1)

Corporal Si Longworth in Afghanistan

Corporal Si Longworth is one of 38 trained British Army photographers. He left a career in aviation to pursue his passion for photography; capturing everything that military life has to offer. He is currently in Afghanistan as the Task Force Helmand Photographer on Op HERRICK 18.

When three days turns into sixteen!

Okay Okay, so I haven’t been around in a while.. I do have an excuse though. A little thing called an ‘Operational Tour’, but if you are not convinced about that, then maybe this, and this series of blogs will help convince you.

A little over three weeks ago I was briefed to pack my bags, because I was heading out. I am sure you can imagine the look of glee written all over my face. I get a little stir crazy in my office, and as you all know. The pictures I need are not in here. The men and women of the British Army are not doing amazing things day to day just outside my office door. It’s in the field where it’s all happening so I need to get out of camp to see it all for myself.

This time I was heading out for two to three days with the Warthog Group of 2nd Royal Tank Regiment. I had to jump on a flight to MOB Price to hook up with them, as they were heading out the next day, so back to the room I dashed, loaded my bags with enough supplies for the duration, plus a few extras, as I know how these things can turn out, and headed down to the flight line.

At Price, I ‘touched base’ with the commander of the Warthog Group I would be attached to. It turned out I wasn’t the only one hitching a ride. There were a section of guys from the First Fusiliers heading out too. I hadn’t spent much time in the back of a Warthog, so I got straight down to the usual safety briefs. All vehicles have a running theme: ‘strap kit down, buckle-up, enjoy the ride’ – well that was easier said than done. I know I don’t get an easy time whenever I am in the back of a vehicle and this one was no different.

A Warthog is like a reverse Dr Who Tardis. With seven of us in there, let’s just say it was less than cosy. As always, there is a top-cover man to provide essential protection to our tracked convoy. It’s a shame though, on this occasion that I happened to be sat next to top cover man, as it seemed someone was getting his or her own back on me after the Combat Logistics Patrol. Here is my view for about five hours. Pleasant, I am sure you will agree:

View of Top Cover Man’s combat codpiece… The real safety briefs.

The other thing about tracked vehicles is that they love to be off road. Off road in Afghanistan means sand…hang on, I’ll make a correction here because I know you are all reminiscing about the best sunny beach you have ever laid on.. I mean dust! The dust that is spat out by these little terriers is beyond belief. I am going to have a hard time trying to explain it, however here a couple of pictures to try…

Warthogs whip up a dust storm.

Sand gets everywhere.

For some reason, the dust doesn’t want to drift away from the convoy with the breeze as we roll through the desert. No no; it circulates straight into the open top cover hatch. At times I couldn’t see the groin that was 6 inches from my head (not such a bad thing really), or anyone else in the back. I was choking on the stuff. It was in my eyes. I was giving my teeth a great exfoliation with it. It was very unpleasant. The shards of sunlight penetrated the dust and at times I could see the Afghan interpreter opposite me. Well, I say I could see him. He was engulfed in a shemagh. He knew the score. Good old Shemagh filtering out those tiny dust particles. Must pack that next time.

‘Trackpin’ and ‘Diesel’

Shemagh – protection from the sand.

So on we rolled to our first destination. We were going to be in this location for approximately two days before heading off to complete our mission.

“HANG ON”, I thought when this information was innocently imparted to me. I was only coming out for 2-3 days. Something smells a bit fishy, so I approached the Platoon commander from the First Fusiliers. His brief was ever-so-slightly different to mine. Five to nine days. I better start a rationing regime for my ‘skiddies’ (underwear).

So there we were, leaguered up in the desert. Not my first ‘camping’ experience but the first laid-up in the desert next to 10-plus tracked vehicles providing all-round protection. I felt safe. I loved spending time with both the fusiliers and the ‘tankies’. I got to know most of them, how they worked together and I felt like part of the team. They even let me borrow the radio headset so I could get a picture looking like I was chipping in with the routine work. That was good of them.

Part of the team.

There were some real characters among them, and some of them had great nicknames such as ‘Trackpin’ and ‘Diesel’. The sort of old-school nickname you acquire because you made some terrible mistake in your early career and the name just stuck. Another real salt-of-the-earth guy I had a lot of admiration for had recently come into a large some of money. Six figures-plus, to be more precise, and he had had every opportunity to not come to Afghan on his third tour, but felt it was his duty to the younger lads, whom he had trained and nurtured through pre-deployment training. He has every intention on moving on from the Army after this tour, and I wish him all the best of luck. Don’t spend it all at once!

Arriving in style

So it wasn’t just a big ging-gang-goolie out there in the desert. Everyone had a role. The ‘Tankies’ were providing a home and security for the Fusiliers, who were in turn providing security for the Royal Engineers who were doing what Engineers do best; building ‘stuff’. While they built, the Commander of Task Force Helmand popped-in for a visit with an Afghanistan counterpart. He always arrives in style.

Commander Task Force Helmand arrives in style.

Once he left, we settled back down into routine. It was at this point that my body decided it wanted to off-load some of the waste it had been very daringly storing up over the past four days. We have disposable ‘jon-bags’ for such things. They are great. They come neatly packed up with toilet tissue and a hand wipe, and once you’ve done what you need to do, you seal it up. Store it for 24 hours and then burn it. All very civilized…unless the temperature is 43 degrees. Then it becomes a challenge to prevent the plastic sticking to all sorts of things that are hot and sweaty, and I am not talking solely about the dangly bits us men are born with, either. The bag is like the proverbial Moth to a flame. One’s bum being that flame. A sort of halfway-house fix is to wrap the bag around a loo seat. It even says that on the wrapping. Unfortunately, as there was nothing but desert around for miles, other solutions become more attractive. Take your body armour for instance:

Novel use for body armour

I am going to admit, this did not work for me, and I will save you the detail..

‘Going home’ socks

As the days rolled by, and my sock spares dwindled, I thought I would cheer myself up by trying to catch the stars rotating around our Warthog harbour, and here is the result of 293 individual 30 second pictures stitched together. The lights in the background are the headlights of the engineer vehicles working.

The sky at night.

On day 5 of my outing I was finally given news I would be extracted the next day. I was so happy, that I dug deep into my bergan (rucksack) and pulled out the last spare pair of socks I had. These were my ‘going-home’ socks. I was happy, and so were my feet. My underwear had stood the test of time however. It is difficult to wash clothing in the desert, especially without wash powder, and when the wind whips-up sand and dust just adding an unwanted texture to drying clothes.

Anyway, I was happy. I was on transport back to a base location. I made my way to the nearest phone and just like E.T, I phoned home.

“Hi Cpl L, how are you doing? About your flight out. It’s cancelled as there is another Op leaving your location tomorrow. Don’t worry; it will only be a few more days.” My boss said. Heard that before I thought. I was in good spirits though, having spent time with great guys.

It was 1800 hrs, and I was due to leave on the next Op at 0430 hrs the next day. Shower; Yes!  Clean clothes: No!..

Best I get my head down then…

To be continued…

Read Si’s other blogs here: Life Through a Lens…

Follow Si on Twitter: @Si_Army_Phot

War dances and the nomadic life

Herrick 18 Stories

Capt Mau Gris. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Captain Mau Gris is team leader for the British Army’s Combat Camera Team (CCT) based in Afghanistan throughout the summer 2013 as part of 1 Mechanized Brigade. Op Herrick 18′s CCT also includes Sergeant Barry Lloyd – video cameraman – and Sergeant Barry Pope – photographer.

Tongan tribal dance

Hi, it’s been awhile since I last wrote because we have been out and about Helmand; living out of our Bergens. Lots of very random, interesting stuff has cropped up and the lads (His Holiness and Lloydie) and I have covered them all.

Now if you had told me during pre-deployment training that within 2 weeks of being in Afghanistan I would be flying out of Helmand to a completely different province, I would probably have snorted and said something along the lines of, ‘yeah right, whatever.’

Well, that happened. Now imagine if you’d told me I would be filming a Maori war dance. Sure enough, I found myself in a small tent confronted with 60 Tongan soldiers who were going to show me how it was well and truly done.

These quiet but impressive soldiers had quietly completed their tour of duty guarding one of the main entrances to Camp Bastion, they were going to perform ‘the Sipi Tau’. Which is a traditional Tongan tribal dance done by ‘the old guard’ to test whether ‘the new guard’ is ready and up to the task.’

It was incredible, the noise and passion displayed was truly impressive. From prior painful experience we knew as a team, that the noise levels would be blown out unless we adjusted the ‘gain’ on the mics and strategically positioned them so they weren’t to close.

Annoyingly for Lloydie every rendition of the Sipi Tau was done slightly differently, so none of the video could really be cut together but the sound of it is impressive enough.

For a listen click here.

After blowing the audience away with the Sipi Tau, the deeply religious Tongans broke out into a Hymn, which was both the opposite in spirit to the war dance, but still made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Click here for a listen.

Images of the Tongan Defence Force medal presentation parade.

Images of the Tongan Defence Force medal presentation parade.

FOB life

This last few weeks has also been a period of nomadic living for me and the CCT. We have been spreading the CCT love. First up was Forward Operating Base Ouellette and it’s little brother, Observation Post Dara. One of the interesting things about us travelling is that about five per cent of the stuff we take with us is normal travelling kit, like washing kit, sleeping bag. The rest is pure kit.

Situated to the North Ouellette is a large camp that houses the Royal Highland Fusiliers, the Second Battalion the Royal Regiment of Scotland, and the attached personnel.

FOB Life, Ouellette

FOB Life, Ouellette

FOB Life, Ouellette

FOB Life, Ouellette

One of the main reason for the existence of the camp is to help out the Afghan National Civil Order Police or ANCOP as they are called. Their job is patrolling route 611, one of the main routes in Helmand. So we got out on the ground with them and the British forces with them, in this case the Explosive Ordnance Disposal and Search Task Force.

It was a great experience, going through one of the local Bazaars making sure it was free of explosives. It was good to see how well received both Afghan and British Troops were by the locals but importantly it was a good lesson for me about how the team worked out on the ground.

One of my main responsibilities is to act as a body guard for the guys whilst we are out on the ground. The idea being that they are focusing on their jobs with their hands full of camera equipment.

 

The CCT at work out at the forward operating bases

 

The CCT at work out at the forward operating bases

 

Previously, because his holiness (Sgt Pope) has always deployed separately to myself and Lloydie, I had no problems covering one man. Now I had two guys, both of whom don’t want to be anywhere near each other (they tend to get in each other shots, and the stills camera is too noisy when taking pictures to be near the video camera).

I found myself having to make rapid decisions on the ground who was in the riskiest position and most vulnerable. Not that either were in any real danger in this situation as there was more than enough soldiers around. I found myself with Lloydie more often than not, as ENG filming draws the attention more completely, his Holiness is able to maintain more situational awareness because the camera is up to his face less often when taking stills.

Next up was Observation Post Dara, positioned a little way away from Ouellette, it’s a little camp, with enough guys in it, to keep a constant watch on the green zone that it overlooks. FOB soldiering at its purest, like the start of the campaign. The guys cooked, cleaned, and looked after each other. I am sure for some, the idea of living there for six months on top of each other would make most stir crazy; but the guys were a formed community. Living safely guided by the standard operating procedures they had laid down.

FOB life PB Attal

FOB life PB Attal

Finally there was the comfortable Patrol Base Attal. We got sent there at the last minute of some filming concerning Armed force and were welcomed by E battery of 1 RHA. What we saw here is what happens when an Army Chef puts his heart and soul into a kitchen, top rate food and obvious pride in the kitchen. This seemed to eminate around camp with the guys taking that little bit of time to make the place more homely.

Anyway, thanks for reading let me know what you think or want you want to hear about on twitter .

See you next time guys.

Read Mau’s other blogs here: Capt Mau Gris

Follow Mau on Twitter: @mau_gris

Road moves and ricochets

Corporal Si Longworth in Afghanistan

Corporal Si Longworth is one of 38 trained British Army photographers. He left a career in aviation to pursue his passion for photography; capturing everything that military life has to offer. He is currently in Afghanistan as the Task Force Helmand Photographer on Op HERRICK 18.

A Combat Logistic Patrol

So hello again. It’s good to know you guys and girls are still reading about life as a British Army Photographer, five blogs in. I have had really positive feedback from you all and for that, I thank you.

Just when I thought I was getting ‘into the groove’ of things out here, what with portraits, group-shots, training budding photographers and the occasional walk-on-the-wild-side, the powers that be decided to mix things up a little, and here’s how.

As some of you may know, my trade is lovingly nestled deep in the bosom of the Royal Logistic Corps (RLC), the largest corps within the British Army. I wear that cap-badge along with over 16,000 other officers and soldiers. The trade groups within the RLC are vast, and include Air Despatcher, Chef, Ammunition Technician, Supply Specialist, Movement Coordinator and Boat Crewman. However, there is another group of fellow RLC soldiers that probably make up one of the largest trade groups, but maybe don’t get enough recognition or praise. (Well not from me in the past, anyway) These are the humble Drivers.

Being a driver in the Army may well appeal to the young guys at school whose dreams are filled with tearing up the road in a huge military truck or tank, but it has never flicked my switch. So, when I was approached by the adjutant of 3 Combat Logistic Support Regiment and asked if I wanted to come out with them ‘for a drive’, my heart didn’t exactly skip a beat.

Not wanting to disappoint and having a slight curiosity of what life was like on a Combat Logistic Patrol, I checked my diary and pencilled it in.

My first of several mistakes was to assume that I would be out with these guys for a few hours. I should have remembered flying around those patrols, providing valuable top-cover from a Lynx helicopter two years ago. Even more importantly, I should have remembered that we used to be out for hours and hours whilst the patrol made its way through the Helmand River Valley.

Anyway, having a terrible memory, lets just say I was more than a little shocked when attending the orders for the patrol, and discovered I would be out for over 24 hours. Nice!

Once I had recovered from my initial shock I was hit with mistake number two; photographers, as it happens, don’t get the comfy ride.

Top-cover man

In order for me to get on the patrol I had to take somebody else’s place on it. On this occasion I was heading to the heights of the EPLS (Enhanced Palletised Loading System) as the gunner / top-cover man. An EPLS only caries a two-man crew, and as I don’t have a HGV licence, yep, you guessed it, I was ‘stagging’ (On duty/sentry at a post) on the top. I could almost feel my bladder strain as I re-checked my notes from patrol orders to discover that the journey would take around eight hours.

Okay, so this was going to be a challenge for me, but one I relished. First thing to do was brush up on a few key skills that would be required such as: Patrol SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures), GPMG (The big machine gun on top) refresher training, and most importantly, ‘drop-down drills’, should we inadvertently roll over whilst out and about.

At this point I was introduced to my driver (drives), a 43-year-old Army reservist named Ian. Ian was a steady hand, and through his very broad ‘geordie’ accent he guided me through the basics and the essentials of the EPLS cab.

The Enhanced Palletised Load Platform

My ‘steady hand’ driver, Private Ian Coulthard.

The plan was relatively simple. My vehicle joined by another 30 or so would make their way from Camp Bastion, down Highway 1 and through the green-zone, stopping off at each of the main locations along the way. At each location a smaller vehicle packet would break away and deliver its stores, whilst the larger packet moved on. The main convoy would remain outside the wire the whole time, so there was no rest for the top-cover man.

Checks, checks, checks

With all the necessary familiarisation and refresher training complete I hit the sack. It was only 1600 hrs the day before the patrol, but I was due to be up and parading in the CMA, (Convoy Marshalling Area) that’s a vehicle park to you and I, for 0200 hrs.

Beep Beep Beep… “Oh my god. What am I doing?” I asked myself as I clambered out of my pit (bed). It took me a full half an hour to wake up, just as I joined my fellow dreary-eyed men and women in the CMA. We were quickly put to work as there were more preparations to be made; final kit checks, communications checks, weapons checks, vehicle checks, checks, checks and some more checks. To be honest, I was impressed by how professional the whole thing was.

It was reassuring to see the Squadron Sergeant Major, WO2 Turley, conducting random checks on individuals’ kit and equipment, including their clothing. All the personal protective equipment that we are issued in the Army is state of the art, so there really isn’t any point in leaving it in your bed space.

Before moving off around 0530 hrs, there was just enough time for a sausage bap, delivered to us from the kitchen by some RLC guys from another well-known trade group - the chefs.

Ian and I mounted up, and away we went. We were positioned around two-thirds the way into the patrol. The sun was breaking so I managed to grab a quick shot before heading out of camp.

Sunrise in the Convoy Marshalling Area.

Almost immediately I realised that the journey was not going to be a particularly pleasant one. The road surfaces were dusty gravel tracks for around 70 per cent of the journey, and when you are 13 feet up and standing on your feet, boy do you feel it! Side to side you’re thrown constantly, bouncing left, right, up and down. CRACK goes your elbows as they smash into another piece of metal in the turret. I never expected it to be so rough. I stupidly assumed that big tyres meant smooth sailing. Well, there you have big mistake number three.

Travelling along Highway 1 gave me a brief reprise, but watching all the other traffic squeeze every inch out of the tarmac was equally unnerving.

The Afghan Highway Code isn’t quite the same as the UK’s.

‘Twang’

By the time we had arrived at our first destination to drop off a few vehicles, two hours had passed. My knees and feet were fully aware I was carrying an extra 20 kgs in body armour and had also cottoned-on to the fact I hadn’t sat down in a while, so they were politely asking me to take a rest. As I was standing there observing my arcs of fire, I declined gracefully.

I remember Ian looking at me whilst I performed weird ankle rotating exercises to try and sooth the discomfort, and quipping: “That was the easy part of the journey”. Well, unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.

As we progressed, uneven track became potholes, which became bigger holes, and then finally what felt like full-on rocky outcrops. We forded fast flowing waddies, threaded huge lorries over bridges with little room to spare on either side and inched our way along the side of huge canals. The camber of which constantly fought against our high centre of gravity, trying to get us wet.

My feet, knees and elbows felt every single pebble until I was given a small blessing at the six-hour point, when everything went numb!

The journey down through the Helmand River Valley was otherwise a pleasant one. The landscape was beautiful, the adults and the children constantly waved and shouted hello. Sometimes the children would playfully throw stones at the vehicles in order to hear the ricochet “twang” off the armour. I could see them all laughing amongst themselves as it made the noise. Watching life carry on as normal from 13 feet up was fantastic, and everything from my chest upwards was thankful for the experience.

Afghan children laugh and joke as the convoy rolls by.

(I am going to save you the detailed account of how one goes to the loo whilst on the move, and stood right next to your driver’s head. Needless to say it becomes a very personal experience for both of you)

Winding our way through the Afghan countryside.

The Neb Canal.

The route is slow-going due to the state of the roads.

On the road again…

At the seven hours and fifteen minutes point, we rolled into PB Folad.  Once stopped, I cautiously jumped down from the cab. My legs had never been so happy to see terra firma and they showed their love for it by embracing it horizontally, for about 10 minutes.

Lying on the ground gave me time to reflect on what was happening around me. There was no time to rest for the guys who were carrying essential loads. I watched vehicles being guided carefully into position and dropping off stores, then picking up new loads. This was all done with the slickest of efficiency, as no doubt the Patrol Base commander had been eagerly awaiting this logistics patrol resupply for some time.

The occupants from other vehicles, which weren’t carrying loads, helped where they could and then laid in the shade of their vehicles. Almost every person who was resting took off his or her boots and socks, and I didn’t need to be told. The relief was instantaneous, and in a cruel way, so was the respite, as in no time at all we were loading up again.

In the small space of time at Folad, I had managed to force-feed myself a whole tube of Pringles (Salt and Vinegar, in case you were wondering), a Mars bar and a Twix, flushed down with a can of Mountain Dew. I thought I would need the energy for the return journey, but the sun was shining on me that afternoon as I was offered a swap into the Mastiff command vehicle. I am not even sure the officer had finished the sentence, and I had thrown my bag in the back and jumped on a seat. Not the comfiest of seats in the world, but I certainly wasn’t going to be complaining.

I said farewell to Ian and wished my replacement luck. We were on the road again. The journey home was pretty uneventful. There isn’t much to look at from the back of a Mastiff vehicle. For safety reasons you are strapped very tightly into a four-point harness, and it feels like being in an inverting roller coaster safety seat, only without as much fun, screaming or somebody throwing up next to you. I did manage to grab this very quick shot of our resident top-cover woman, Cpl Sheridan Lucas.

Cpl Lucas keeping a keen eye out on her arcs in the Mastiff.

We had a slightly longer break at one of the locations on the way back, so that the drivers could have some enforced rest and possibly a bit of shut-eye. I didn’t sleep for the two hours, but spent the time trying to convince the occupants of my vehicle (not the driver, who was flat-out) that it would be a great idea to let me experiment with some lighting techniques I had been mulling over during the last five-hour ‘roller coaster ride’.

Here are the results. I am reasonably content with the outcome considering how long I had been awake.

Extremely robust individuals

The other soldiers from my Mastiff chill and chat at dusk during enforced rest on the return journey.

WO2 Grant Turley poses for one of my lighting set-ups.

Corporal Lucas posing for a long exposure before waking troops from enforced rest.

When we finally rolled through the gates of Camp Bastion it was 0200 hrs. 25 hrs after my stupid alarm clock forced me out of bed. I sighed in relief to the Squadron Sergeant Major and made some dribbly comment about being happy it was all over. He laughed at me, and then educated me that every one of the 30-odd vehicles needed to be refuelled, which took time from two petrol pumps, and then all kit had to be ‘squared away’, weapons handed back, cabs cleaned out, only after dropping the loads. I felt pretty humbled at the time. I am not ashamed to say that I was, how we say, ‘baggage’.

I left the crews and headed back to my bed. Having spoken to the adjutant the next day, I am reliably informed the last person made it to their bed two hours after we breached the gates of Bastion. That’s some going as far as I am concerned.

I now believe that being invited out with the Combat Logistic Support Regiment on a Combat Logistic Patrol was a real privilege. Being out with 32 Squadron for over 24 hours has smashed any misconception about what these extremely robust individuals do for a living. It is an unpleasant job due to the sheer time involved in moving tons of kit around a battlefield, all the time under threat and needing to be that little extra bit alert to your surroundings, when fatigue may well be knocking at your door.

32 Squadron, 3 Combat Logistic Support Regiment, and the rest of the driver trade in the RLC, I wholeheartedly take my hat off to you…My eyes have been opened.

More tc.

Read Si’s other blogs here: Life Through a Lens…

Follow Si on Twitter: @Si_Army_Phot

Rock ‘n’ Roll

Herrick 18 Stories

Capt Mau Gris. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Captain Mau Gris is team leader for the British Army’s Combat Camera Team (CCT) based in Afghanistan throughout the summer 2013 as part of 1 Mechanized Brigade. Op Herrick 18′s CCT also includes Sergeant Barry Lloyd – video cameraman – and Sergeant Barry Pope – photographer.

A song and dance

It’s been a fun time for the CCT since I last wrote. Life has been dominated by the Combined Services Entertainment (CSE) Show. This is on the opposite end of the spectrum to what we exist to cover but has its difficulties. For those who haven’t had the pleasure of attending one, a CSE show combines comedy, music and dancing to help troops take their mind off work where ever they are deployed for a couple of hours.

Having directed a music video before I am well aware of the pitfalls of filming entertainment. The combo of noise, movement and lights if not handled correctly can be an absolute and utter nightmare to edit, doubling or even tripling the time it takes to complete a job. This was the first time that I had seen one of these entertainment shows and, like any typical soldier, I was sceptical about the show’s ability to distract me without the aid of alcohol. I was even a bit nervous for the stand-up comics, as sober soldiers on operations would be a tough audience.

I was proved wrong. Within minutes of the first comic coming on, I was relaxed and enjoying the show. So relaxed that I pretty much forgot I was working. Good for morale, bad for work. I realised, as we left the show, that Lloydie would need more interviews to create a video piece. We would have to come back and do the show again. Again, I thought I would be bored. Nope, second time round I couldn’t get enough of the dancers and the band called Front Cover, but still we needed more. The next night promised massive crowds as it was for the whole of the camp Bastion.

Sgt Barry Lloyd. Cpl Si Longworth (phot)

Capt Mau Gris and Sgt Barry Lloyd. Cpl Si Longworth (phot)

Sgt Barry Pope. Cpl Si Longworth (phot)

Sgt Barry Lloyd. Cpl Si Longworth (phot)

Large events like this pose their own problems for the guys – both Lloydie and his Holiness (Sgt Pope) have to contend with the crowd, who don’t like people pushing past them to get closer to the stage. Also moving around a venue that is much larger takes time and can make cutting a bit trickier. Lloyd and his Holiness nailed it – working like madmen to get the shots they needed. To add to the fun we had the talented Brigade Photographer Cpl Simon Longworth along to take some amazing ‘drag flash’ photos (I think that’s what he called them anyway.) We were nearly there, almost enough footage. We had one night to get the last shots that would make the piece.

Sadly just when we thought we had achieved our mission, operational commitments meant that the last show was cancelled. Just when you think nothing more can go wrong! So quick thinking by the guys meant that we worked out that a multimedia piece could still be possible. The Army definition of a multimedia piece is a video that relies fairly heavily on photos or even exclusively on photos with some audio on it. We learned a valuable lesson realising this.

There are multiple ways to skin a media cat in order to get that story across.

 

CSE Show in full swing. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

CSE Show in full swing. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

CSE Show in full swing. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

CSE Show in full swing. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

CSE Show in full swing. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

CSE Show in full swing. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

CSE Show in full swing. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

See you next time guys. Take it easy.

Read Mau’s other blogs here: Capt Mau Gris

Follow Mau on Twitter: @mau_gris

Filming close quarters combat in the third dimension

Herrick 18 Stories

Capt Mau Gris. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Captain Mau Gris is team leader for the British Army’s Combat Camera Team (CCT) based in Afghanistan throughout the summer 2013 as part of 1 Mechanized Brigade. Op Herrick 18′s CCT also includes Sergeant Barry Lloyd – video cameraman – and Sergeant Barry Pope – photographer.

‘Spray and pray’

With Lloydy gaining a bit of fame in for his 3D filming (he’s been interviewed by BBC Radio Merseyside) I thought it was time to talk about our 3D filming, so far, in this blog.

Last week, I found out that the Brigade Reconnaissance Force (BRF) were going to the Close Quarter Battle (CQB) range to practice their skills. So I set up a day to go down and capture them in action.

CQB ranges are pretty claustrophobic and seriously intense; as they are made to replicate urban warfare. Though for Helmand this is a thing of the past it’s still practiced, and it is ideal subject matter for a bit of 3D action. To give you an idea – here is a video we made on Close Quarters Marksmanship:

[http://youtu.be/OGetZAelPbg]

The ranges are set up in a kind of winding alley format, with lots of corners forcing the guys to practice the drills. They face all the problems that might happen in the real thing and they have to deal with them as they go.

With the perfect subject, we set about assessing gear that the production house 3Dizzy had given us. We’ve been given a p2, which is a large standard news camera, which has a large 3D lens on it. Advantages of this – great HD quality footage with complete control. Downside – very awkward to move with and fricking heavy. We also had a 3D Helmet camera, which had the opposite qualities – easy to use, but no monitor to watch the footage, to use military slang; a ‘spray and pray’ camera. We also had a 3D handycam which was in the middle of the two.

3D filming of close quarters marksmanship. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

3D filming of close quarters marksmanship. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Close quarters marksmanship being filmed. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Close quarters marksmanship being filmed. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

3D filming of close quarters marksmanship. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

3D filming of close quarters marksmanship. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

On 3D cameras you have an additional elements of ‘convergence’ and ‘depth budget’ to consider alongside the ordinary considerations such as exposure and framing. Simply put these are controls for whether something pops out at you from the screen and how three dimensional something is. Too much can actually ruin a shot or even make it ‘illegal’ according to broadcaster standards.

With all this to consider Lloydy and his Holiness (Sgt Pope) were really earning their pay on this shoot. As the producer I had to concentrate on holding my tongue and getting them the time they needed to do the job, as well as not ruining their shots by accidentally walking into them, which I have done more than once. Don’t ask me how, it just happens.

3D filming of close quarters marksmanship. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

We set up Lloydy with the big camera as he’s the specialist video guy, getting the tough arial tracking shots from an observation deck. Then his Holiness got the nice, tight shots on the handycam, we are hoping to show the results later in the year! Drop me a line in Twitter if you want to know more.

Filming from the Hospital

I also promised to talk to you about the difficulties of shooting in the Camp Bastion Hospital. From a producer’s perspective – it is about the clearances and preproduction you have to go through – for legal reasons actually filming patients is a no go, you can get their permission afterwards and in the UK but because of the nature of this environment it’s not always possible to track people down after they have left.

ISAF are teaching the afghan doctors and surgeons more advanced medical techniques to enable them to look after and care for the more seriously injured soldiers. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

ISAF are teaching the afghan doctors and surgeons more advanced medical techniques to enable them to look after and care for the more seriously injured soldiers. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Working in the hospital. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Also in that environment were people are very aware of cameras, you often have to contend with people messing up the shot by trying to avoid being in it. Or trying to stop you because they have not been told that you have permission. That said if you do go through the pain – the shots of the work people are doing there are worth it. Nothing worth anything is ever easy.

See you next time guys. Take it easy.

Read Mau’s other blogs here: Capt Mau Gris

Follow Mau on Twitter: @mau_gris

Herrick 18 Stories: Good times, sad times, wasting time

Capt Mau Gris. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Captain Mau Gris is team leader for the British Army’s Combat Camera Team (CCT) based in Afghanistan throughout the summer 2013 as part of 1 Mechanized Brigade. Op Herrick 18′s CCT also includes Sergeant Barry Lloyd – video cameraman – and Sergeant Barry Pope – photographer.

 

The meaning of CCT becomes clear

Hi guys – its been a little while since I posted something but a fair bit has happened.

One of the sad duties I have to do is cover vigils of fallen  comrades. It’s probably one of our most important tasks; documenting the vigil to a fallen serviceman, but you cannot help but feel a little scummy, a bit like the paparazzi as you take the photos and video of such a solemn occasion. I do wonder how people could do it for a living.

Vigil service for LCpl Jamie Webb of 1 MERCIAN Regiment. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

The team got its first run out as a deployed newsgathering unit. We had go down to Lashkar Gah, the capital of Helmand to cover the official changing of the Brigade from 4th Mechanized Brigade to 1st Mechanized Brigade. This happens when a new tour begins and a new load of people take over. We found ourselves working alongside Caroline Wyatt, the BBC’s Defence Correspondent and the British Forces Broadcasting Service guys.

We arrived a day early to film the goodbye Shura – which is an Afghan meeting with Afghan musicians and traditional food. There was this exquisite potato flat bread call Burkahra. All the top Helmand residents descended to say thanks to out-going Brigadier Bob Bruce and welcome Brigadier Rupert Jones.

With a real-time deadline of 12.30pm for 1pm News to get the material back to the UK in time, we had a real rush. The satellite decided it didn’t want to work. Great! So we had to rush around like mad men trying to hop on a computer anywhere we could. We managed it by the skin of our teeth and got to see our images on the news for the first time!

It was at this point that I began to realise the pressures and difficulties that traditional news teams must have when chasing a story. It’s not just being aware of the environment and the constraints on the kit, it’s getting the interviews, that are ‘clean’ – ie free from distraction in the picture and the sound, as well as the GVs (or general views) of whatever it is you are covering. That is before you have to worry about transmission back to wherever will be showing it!

Images of the 4th mechanized brigade Shura. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Filming of 4th mechanized brigade Shura. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Images of the 4th mechanized brigade Shura. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Images of the 4th mechanized brigade Shura. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Shawqat farewell

Following that faff, we were prepared for the next deployment to  Forward Operating Base Shawquat in the Nad-e Ali to see the Mercian regiment leave Afghanistan for the last time. Shawquat has is based around an old British fort that was used the last time the British were in Afghanistan! So we got some good pictures of where our predecessors would have stayed.

Take over of authority at Main Operating Base Lashkar Gah. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

As you can probably tell I’ve been doing a fair bit of travelling which is just as susceptible to delay as in the UK. The Afghan weather plays havoc with the Helicopters so the Baz(es) and I have been doing what all good soldiers do, when they get free time – sleeping.

Time for a well-earned rest. Sgt Barry Pope RLC (Phot)

Next time – I will talk to you about filming the elite Brigade Reconnaissance Force in 3D – the first British troops to ever be filmed in 3D!  I also will talk about the difficulties and constrains of filming in the Hospital.

See you next time guys. Take it easy.

Follow Mau on Twitter: @mau_gris

Military policeman, pilot, photographer…

Corporal Si Longworth @Si_Army_Phot

Corporal Si Longworth is one of only 38 trained British Army Photographers.  He left a career in aviation to pursue his passion for photography; capturing everything that military life has to offer. He is currently in Afghanistan as the Task Force Helmand Photographer, on Op HERRICK 18.

Those who follow me on Twitter will already know that I have been in Afghanistan for just over a month, and in that month I have managed to get out and about, visiting many of the locations where British troops are stationed. I have suffered at the evil hands of diarrhoea and vomiting and produced a handful of home-town stories – not to mention my first multimedia piece, which featured on the British Army Facebook page. I am going to take the time to write about my first month very soon, but it would be unfair of me not to give you a little insight into my career thus far. So please sit back, and try to stay awake…

The journey to Afghanistan was not unfamiliar to me, having done it twice before, but the job I have taken over was.

I wasn’t always an Army photographer. No Sir. I have been tinkering with cameras for years, but it is only recently that I decided to finish up my Army career as a ‘phot’. (‘Finish up’ as in the last few years – not commit career suicide.)

“How do you know there is a pilot in the room?”
“Don’t worry, he’ll tell you!”

Well, ladies and gentlemen, that’s what I was; an Army pilot. I have to get it out early, as no doubt I will be making reference to aviation in future posts (because I can’t help it, and because this blog series isn’t just about my life as a photographer; it’s a story of how I got here). In early 2012, after seven years as a qualified Lynx helicopter pilot, I decided that I wanted a change of pace, and I wanted to concentrate more of my efforts on the hobby I was passionate about: photography.

One amazing career; three different jobs

Throughout my Army career, I have made some great friends in the photography trade. Throughout every contact, meeting and occasional coffee (for ‘coffee’, read ‘beer’) with one of these mysterious men and women, I would always sit back and turn a little green with envy at their stories and experiences. To some people out there, the thought of demotion from Sergeant and the loss of flying pay may seem a little strange, and maybe it is. But the beauty of the British Army is exactly that: the ability to change jobs. Why get out when you can try something different? As an employee for over 17 years, starting out in the Royal Military Police (RMP), specialising in Close Protection duties, then applying for Army Pilot Selection, and now finally a photographer for the Army, I can see no greater incentive to stay in – or indeed join up. One amazing career, and three different jobs. Yes, of course I have suffered promotional setbacks at the hands of transferring, and will continue to as I reach the end of my career. But the balance to that scale is I have been kept enthusiastic and have loved – and I mean genuinely loved – every part of my diverse military career. Who else can say that?

Author during RMP Training in Northern Ireland. By WO1 Mike Harvey, RLC.

Here is an image taken (on film, of course) ‘back in the day’, during an RMP Close Protection training exercise at Ballykilner, Northern Ireland. What you may find interesting is that in Northern Ireland I lived and worked next to the Central Photographic Cell, and had invited a new-found friend, Corporal Mike Harvey (who used to process my ‘work-related’ (honestly) film from my Nikon F90x) to join us for the day and capture the action. He was, of course a Royal Logistics Corps Photographer. Today, WO1 Mike Harvey is the Command Master Photographer in the Army Photographic Trade.

So, where was I…? Oh yes, my friends who I have seen join the trade over the years. I had watched my best friend and successful Army shooter, Staff Sergeant Dan Harmer, travel to amazing places and capture fantastic images, just as the rest of our trade has done, and I wanted to become a part of that. One of the things I have noticed about photography is my reaction to it and how it makes me feel to look at a striking image. I could look at it and become more immersed in the story than I could with any video clip. That was what I wanted to do. I dreamed of people opening up papers and being stunned over an image I had managed to take. (I still live in hope…)

The seed, planted

It wasn’t until my first tour of Afghanistan that I bumped into a now friend and great photographer Corporal Steve Blake, who had sauntered into the Lynx detachment and asked me for a favour. He needed a flight and, as it happened, I wanted a picture. The mutual agreement and friendship was thus formed. He won’t mind me letting everyone know that I took him flying a few times, and convinced him that the angle of bank which made him scream like a little girl was required to allow him to get his pictures. (Sorry, Steve.) He took these pictures for me, and single-handedly – without knowing it, and just like the film ‘Inception’ – he planted the seed in my mind to transfer.

Author and his Lynx. By Sgt Steve Blake, RLC.

Author in his Lynx. By Sgt Steve Blake, RLC.

I had a few professional commitments to fulfill with my aviation role, including a second tour in Afghanistan. But under a year later, after a successful Army Photographic Selection course, I had started training at the Defence School of Photography at RAF Cosford, Wolverhampton, to become my current trade: an Army Photographer.

I still managed to snap a couple of sunrises while out and about, though. The pros of being an early-morning aviator, I guess.

Sunrise over a Helmand Lynx. By Sgt Si Longworth, AAC.

Flying into dawn – my co-pilot uses night vision goggles to aid in flying before the sun rises over the Helmand Desert. By Sgt Si Longworth, AAC.

So there you have it: a little more about me. I am sure you will all get to know me as time goes by; what makes me tick and what ticks me off. As I have said before, this is a journey, and we’ll take it together. Thanks for reading, until the next time…

More tc…

Read Si’s other blogs here: Life Through a Lens…

Follow Si on Twitter: @Si_Army_Phot