Deadly serious

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Laurie and Allen McLeod see their son Adam off at Yukon Lodge, Canadian Forces Base Trenton.

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Every Afghan-bound troop or equipment transport begins at CFB Trenton, which has become Canada’s most important and busiest base since the start of the conflict in Afghanistan. ( LUKE HENDRY / THE CANADIAN PRESS ARCHIVES )

David O'Brien is travelling with a small group of Canadian journalists to Afghanistan as part of a tour organized by the Defence Department. This is his first report.

AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION IN SOUTHWEST ASIA -- Battle helmet. Check. Ballistic eyewear. Check. Flak jacket with ceramic plates for body protection. Check. Lessons on how to behave around Afghans. Check. Instructions on what to do if all hell breaks loose. Double check.

I'm 40 pounds heavier, but ready, according to the army, for my venture into Afghanistan later today as part of a guided tour of Canadian operations in the theatre for a small group of Canadian journalists.

Our precise location at the moment is classified a secret by the Department of Foreign Affairs because the host country is sensitive about its support for the conflict in Afghanistan, although it has to be one of the worst-kept secrets in Canadian military history.

The base here is a major logistics centre for moving troops and supplies to Afghanistan. The troops are armed and briefed here before being shipped to the theatre.

During a side trip to the capital of the host country, we were warned not to say where we were staying or to make any mention of the Canadian military presence in the country.

The journalists have signed documents agreeing to a long list of ground rules that prohibit reporting anything that might, in the opinion of the military, jeopardize Canadian lives. Our escort, navy Lt.-Cmdr. Kent Penney, says we cannot even disclose the Canadian name of the base.

The base has been described as a cross between a prison and a trailer park, but it's also jokingly referred to as a sports camp, social club and holiday resort.

The galley serves home-cooked meals and is open 24-hours a day. There are basketball and volleyball courts, floor hockey, outdoor giant-screen TVs, games rooms, a fully-equipped gymnasium and other distractions.

But it's all penned in behind barbed wire and steel barriers. The sleeping quarters are nothing but row on row of makeshift trailers.

All in all, though, the 150 Canadian troops who run the base seem to like it. Among other benefits, it's warmer than Afghanistan and safer.

Our arrival here was the third pit stop in a long and tiresome voyage. We were in Cologne, Germany, three nights ago for a one-day layover to give the aircrew of our military Airbus time to rest. In addition to six journalists, the aircraft carried cargo and about 40 soldiers, mostly specialists like engineers, medics and signals technicians. There were also several civilians, whose roles and duties we also cannot disclose.

My journey began last weekend when I arrived at Canadian Forces Base Trenton, about 160 kilometres east of Toronto on the shores of Lake Ontario. Every Afghan-bound troop or equipment transport begins there. It's become Canada's most important and busiest base since the start of the conflict in Afghanistan.

Every soldier headed for Afghanistan departs from CFB Trenton. And they all return there after their tours, including the dead who arrive in draped coffins before being moved in solemn processions along the Highway of Heroes (401) to Toronto for autopsies.

Kelly Ayotte works the front desk at the Yukon Lodge, one of two hotels at CFB Trenton, owned and operated by the Defence Department. She meets many of the young men and women on their way to Afghanistan.

"Some you can tell are very nervous," Ayotte says. "Others say they're ready, but you're never sure if they mean it."

As I was checking out of the hotel, a young man dressed in the trademark desert camouflage worn by the troops in Afghanistan waited in turn behind me.

"Nervous? Ya, a little bit," he said after I explained I was a journalist heading out on the same airplane. "Actually, I'm going to replace a friend of mine who was killed over there."

Adam McLeod, 29, is a combat engineer with the junior rank of sapper. It's his job to blow holes in walls, and find and remove mines and other improvised explosive devices, the euphemism for the ubiquitous roadside bombs that have claimed most of the 133 Canadians killed.

Outside the hotel, Adam's mom and dad, Laurie and Allen McLeod, were waiting to take him to the airport on the base. They had driven from their home in Brantford to see their son off. They were very brave, but you could tell it wasn't easy.

"I haven't cried yet," Laurie said. "You've still got time, Mom," Adam responded.

They were very gracious in allowing me to use their camera for a family photo when the batteries in my camera suddenly died.

Later, at this undisclosed location, Adam was smoking a cigarette and enjoying the warm evening air. He said he supported the war and believed the cause was just. "I'm not here because someone told me I had to be here," he said.

We arrive at Kandahar Airfield today about 6 p.m. Afghanistan time, about a day later than originally planned, but our precise plans are classified for now and totally dependent on operational issues. Even Penney says he doesn't know for sure where we will go and what we will do because he personally does not have a secure link with his counterparts in Kandahar.

This may not be a war in the conventional sense, but the military treats all aspects of its operations with deadly seriousness. It's known, for example, that the Taliban monitor military communications and movements in and out of the theatre.

dave.obrien@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition November 25, 2009 A5