Desert islanders: Joining Pacific soldiers in Afghanistan

Desert islanders: Joining Pacific soldiers in Afghanistan

‘There we go, island sounds and a smokin’ barbeque’ says Ed Siguenza as we draw closer to a bunch of heavily tattooed men prepping food as some electro soul pulses from an ipod.

This could be just another cruisy Pacific island scene – except we are in a desert, far away, in a war zone that continues to take island lives: Afghanistan.

Camp Blackhorse, on the edge of Kabul, is where Sgt Siguenza and I have come in after a morning mission with some of his Guam Battalion, deployed as “guardian angels” for US contractors inspecting armoured vehicles to be handed over soon to the Afghan National Army (ANA). It is one of their regular missions here to provide escort and protection to a range of civilian and military contractors working with local Afghans, and to stop any ‘green on blue’ attacks between Afghans and ISAF (International Security Assistance Forces).  They will hover quietly behind the scenes, arms at the ready, always watching.

We ‘downgrade’ in the midday heat; peeling off helmets and body armour and reach for cold water in this place filled with endless dust.

Someone appears with a plate and a cheer goes up – fried fish with ‘special hot sauce’ from Guam lands on the table.

‘Trust us islanders to come up with fish here in a landlocked country,’ smiles Sgt Siguenza and we dig in before our MRAP armoured vehicle collects us for the return drive back to Camp Phoenix, where we are currently based.

Although they are rarely acknowledged, thousands of Pacific islanders have served in various theatres such as Iraq, Afghanistan and Africa since the ‘war on terror’ began with the attacks of 9/11 in the US. It has been 12 long years of war, particularly in Afghanistan, a conflict that has killed dozens of Pacific islanders and wounded many more. Most are Micronesian soldiers serving with US forces, but there are also Polynesians from Hawaii, American Samoa and Tonga, as well as Fijians serving with British forces and as civilian contractors.

The war hardly touches those South Pacific and Melanesian nations whose armies are not involved, but it is a daily issue for many in the north Pacific who listen to the news and wait for their loved ones to come home. Anyone passing through Guam’s international airport cannot fail to be moved by the dozens of pictures of the fallen, which hang over the entrance. Flags seem almost permanently at half-mast.

Australia and New Zealand have also committed substantial forces over the years but like the rest of the international forces, they are now winding down their involvement.

It already feels like we are entering the twilight of the NATO era here; many European forces have pulled out and the US plans to be gone by the end of 2014. But there are political deals to be hammered out yet with Afghan President Hamid Karzai, while shadowy negotiations go on with the Taliban in places like Dubai. Nobody is really sure when this war will end, or what will happen if the Taliban take power again. As coalition forces pull back from Forward Operating Bases (FOBs) around the country to large garrison camps, a vacuum is emerging and people are anxious. It is getting more dangerous here than at any time since the initial defeat of the Taliban in 2001.

‘Nobody is really sure when this war will end, or what will happen if the Taliban take power again.’

I have returned to Afghanistan after 21 years to see something of the end game here, and to see the role Pacific islanders continue to play in a country that could not be more different from their easy-going culture.

In 1992 I flew in just as the mujahideen swept into Kabul, ending the Russian era that had begun with the Soviet invasion in 1979 and their withdraw nine years later. Like many I had expected that the muj victory might signal the end of war, but in fact there was barely a pause before a new war began. As soon as they took Kabul, the muj split into three factions and fought bitterly for control of the city. I spent time with the charismatic leader Ahmed Shah Masood, a Tajik commander known as the ‘Lion of Panshjir’  – it was Masood who was assassinated by Al Qaeda two days before 9/11 in a pre-emptive suicide bombing. Knowing that he would be the likely leader of a US-backed intervention after the 9/11 attacks, Al Qaeda eliminated him first.  Today his portrait is on posters everywhere, still revered.

The imposition of Wahhabist Islam by the Taliban has been well documented and needs no recounting here: between their emergence and takeover between 1996 and 2001 Afghanistan went to a kind of year zero. Television sets were literally hung from telegraph poles, music was banned, girls education was forbidden and cultural vandalism ensued with the dynamiting of the giant Buddhist statues at Bamiyan and ransacking of the National Museum to destroy any other ‘idols’.

Whatever one may feel about the merits or failures of the NATO intervention, many Afghans were happy to see the end of Taliban rule and continue to fear its return. We must remember that the extremism of the Taliban is a complete aberration in the history of Afghanistan – this is a country that was Buddhist for more than 1200 years, was a centre of Silk Route trading and home since ancient times to tolerance and great learning. Nestorian Christians, Sufi mystics, Mahayana Buddhists and Zoroastrians all once found a place in this holy land.

Today that seems a dream long gone. Afghans today are struggling for their basic survival between competing armies and ideologies. In 1992 it felt like the countryside was mostly safe while battles raged around Kabul. Returning now it feels the opposite – Kabul feels mostly safe while the war grinds on in the rest of the country. Still the threats and attacks are escalating even in Kabul and there is a general sense – among foreigners particularly – that nowhere is safe in Afghanistan anymore.

Since Micronesians represent the most significant number of Pacific islanders serving in Afghanistan, I have decided to embed with the Guam Battalion and move around the country to get an islanders’ view of the war and the price they are paying for it. Most are from Guam but there is a good sprinkling from Palau, FSM, the Marshalls and the Marianas. Virtually all the Micronesians are serving in the Guam Battalion.

Over the years I have heard that “Micronesians have the highest participation rate  – and casualty rate – per capita, of any ethnic group in America and it has been that way since Vietnam”. Is it true? I have come here to find out, and to get a sense of the policy challenges ahead for many island governments as their service men and women return home with injuries that are both physical and mental. Few at home can understand the experience they have gone through in a place like Afghanistan, a place known in history as “the graveyard of imperial armies”.

‘This is a special deployment for us because it is the first time we have deployed in Battalion strength,’ says their Battalion Commander Lt. Colonel Michael Tougher. ‘We have about 600 men in 7 Companies operating across the Afghan theatre. Previously we only ever deployed in Company strength, with about 120. Now we have lots of specialists and are pretty self-sufficient as a Battalion. Micronesia produces fine soldiers, some of whom have risen to senior ranks including a two-star General.’

In the weeks ahead, as I move across the country with Guam Battalion, 294th Infantry Regiment, I’ll be seeing how they operate on a tactical and personal level, and hope to give a face to some of the thousands of Pacific islanders who have served here in a variety of ways, from Hawaiian firemen to Guamanian Marines. For the past week we have patrolled parts of Kabul.

Next stop is Kandahar and the southern provinces, where most of the fighting goes on and the bulk of ISAF forces operate. It is a hot desert plain interspersed with the towering mountain ranges of the Hindu Kush to the north.

I doubt there will be many fish dinners ahead but with islanders deployed you never know. At least there’ll be good music and their strong sense of community that brings its own aura of protection.

This article was written by
Ben Bohane

Ben is a photojournalist and television producer with over 20 years experience in the Pacific. He has worked for many of the world’s major news organisations and joined PiPP as Communications Director. He has a Masters Degree in Melanesian religion and conflict. More background on Ben can be found via www.wakaphotos.com