From war zone to boomtown for Helmand capital

BBC News South Asia Website

Lashkar Gah, the capital of Afghanistan's Helmand province, was a war zone when the BBC's Bilal Sarwary visited four years ago. Upon his return he discovers it completely transformed.

In 2006, Lashkar Gah resembled a ghost town. Deserted streets littered with shell casings, ruins in the name of buildings and dust-filled roads lined with burnt vehicles. The silence was occasionally broken by bursts of artillery and gun fire. There was the feel of death all around.


Well-connected by air and road with Kabul, Lashkar Gah's economy is thriving

Daily flights

But that was then.

Lashkar Gah today is teeming with life.

Fast-rising buildings, markets filled with shoppers and restaurants blaring loud music.

It seems the city wants to make up for lost time.

Its mud trails which once passed for roads have been replaced by two-lane asphalt streets. And instead of armoured vehicles, there are cars.

In fact, the number of motor vehicles has grown so much in the past few years that wardens have been deployed on all main intersections to ensure smooth traffic movement.

Although small, the city now has a proper airport - built by the United State's development agency USAID.

There are now daily flights connecting Lashkar Gah with the capital Kabul.

Earlier, there was only an air strip that was open only for Western forces and aid agencies.


Lashkar Gah city has grown rapidly as more people are attracted from less stable areas

Peace dividend

Residents, traders, Afghan government officials and others had to use the Lashkar Gah-Kabul road, which runs through the Taliban strongholds of Kandahar, Zabul, Ghazni and Wardak.

The people now have the option to fly to Kabul.

But what has brought about this change?

The answer is peace, established by the Afghan National Army with the help of Western forces, particularly the British Provincial Reconstruction Teams (PRTs).

The PRTs are military and civilian groups which have played a key role in Nato's mission to stabilise Afghanistan.


Lashkar Gah city has grown rapidly as more people are attracted from less stable areas

For the transformation of the city, residents also credit provincial Governor Gulab Mangal, who has a reputation for probity and competent administration.

"Security is good in Lashkar Gah. Peace has helped business," says fruit-seller Haji Mohammad Khan.

"Also, heavy fighting in other districts of Helmand has forced people to flee to the safety of Lashkar Gah. The arrival of these people is providing the city a steady stream of cheap labour," he says.

Mohammad Pasoon, who runs the Bost radio station in Lashkar Gah, agrees.

''A year ago, people were afraid to step out of their homes. They wouldn't dare to even go to the park. There was nothing in the name of security. The presence of Western forces has dispelled that fear."

Construction boom

Mr Pasoon's radio station is also a beneficiary of peace.

Until a few years ago, Bost was struggling to stay on air. There was no money to even meet the daily expenses. But now there is a long queue of advertisers.

''Shopkeepers, construction companies, non-governmental organisations and government all send us advertisements. You do business when there is security," he says.

Lashkar Gah is also witnessing a boom in property prices.

"The news that business is good here has reached other districts of Helmand. People in those areas are willing to sell everything off in their native places for a piece of land in Lashkar Gah," a property dealer said.


Lashkar Gah's landscape is also changing, with banks cropping up on its main street

Lashkar Gah's landscape is also changing.

One can see branches of several Afghan banks along the main street.

There are also private clinics and hospitals.

''It is the result of good governance. If traders do not feel safe they won't open their business. Same for people, they will not leave their homes if they do not feel safe,'' an aide to the governor said.

Lance Sergeant Dale Alanzo McCallum killed in Afghanistan

It is with sadness that the Ministry of Defence must confirm that Lance Sergeant Dale Alanzo McCallum of 1st Battalion Scots Guards was killed in Afghanistan on Sunday 1 August 2010.

It is with sadness that the Ministry of Defence must confirm that Lance Sergeant Dale Alanzo McCallum of 1st Battalion Scots Guards was killed in Afghanistan on Sunday 1 August 2010.

LSgt Dale McCallum
Picture: via MOD

Lance Sergeant McCallum, who was serving as part of Combined Force Lashkar Gah, was killed by small arms fire whilst commanding his men in an operation to provide security to Afghan local nationals in the Lashkar Gah district of Helmand province.

At approximately 1320 hours, the sangar at his checkpoint came under effective enemy fire from insurgent forces.

Lance Sergeant McCallum quickly moved to the sangar and as he was moving into a position to engage the insurgents he received a fatal gunshot wound.

Lance Sergeant McCallum’s family paid the following tribute:

“Dale was a wonderful father, brilliant brother a loving son. He was cherished and highly respected by everyone that knew him. He will be deeply and sadly missed. We all loved Dale for his easy going attitude and his sunshine smile, for his mannerisms and his charm.

“Dale was passionate about life and displayed immense enthusiasm for every challenge he took on. We all love and will miss him dearly and may his soul rest in peace.”

Read the full story here

PICTURE of the Day: Visit of the Muslim Chaplain to the British military

Imam Asim Hafiz, the civilian Muslim Chaplain to the British Military, who is responsible for the well-being of all MOD employed Muslims, visits Afghanistan. Asim also offers support to religious engagement in Afghanistan by underlining that Islam is part of British culture and to show that he caters for the spiritual needs of British soldiers.


Imam Asim meets with local Hajj members during a shura held at Bolan T








During the visit the Imam Asim (right) went to the Main Mosque in Lashkar Gah and meets with Haji Mokhtar Ahmad, Director Hajj and Religous Affairs in Helmand.(left) The Haji had previously made an exchange visit to the UK and commented on how much he loved the UK.


The Imam meets a Hajj member


Imam Asim (right) meets with local ANP members during a shura held at PB Bolan T


Asim with PB Dolan T's comander, Major Walker QRL


Pictures: Corporal Gary Kendall RLC

Sweating blood to make Helmand a garden of peace

By Caroline Wyatt, BBC

British troops are working hard to train Afghan police and soldiers in the heat and dust of Helmand, but with mixed results - and Afghans themselves worry that foreign troops will lose patience before the job is done.

Despite rises in police pay finding enough recruits is not easy

Every day inside the British military headquarters at Lashkar Gah, an elderly Afghan gardener tends a remarkable garden. He does not say much when I pass by, just nods good morning or good afternoon.

But he is there most of the day, working in the sweltering Helmand heat.

For several years now, he has lovingly sown the seeds for the flowers, and watered and nurtured them, eventually coaxing luxuriant red, white and pink blooms out of the thin, sandy soil.

His garden is at the heart of the camp, an unlikely but powerful reminder of home and normality under the harsh glare of the Afghan sun.

All around it are the usual sand-coloured tents and the gravelled car park nearby, where the heat-haze blurs the sharp metallic edges of the military vehicles.

But anyone taking that walk through the garden can be transported for a few brief minutes by the summer scent of mint and the buzz of insects taking the pollen.

On parade

I had forgotten how much Afghans love flowers until we went to see the latest police recruits graduate from the Helmand Police Training Centre.

After an eight-week course, they stood smartly to attention on the parade ground, while their British trainers watched.

As the recruits left for the police stations and spartan checkpoints where they will serve, some had hung painted hearts and flowers around their necks, smiling and posing for the cameras.

British soldiers are helping to train the Afghan police force

It was hard to imagine that the police, in too many places, are still very much part of the problem, often corrupt and addicted to drugs, their behaviour driving some into the arms of the Taliban.

Several policewomen had just graduated too. We met them in a separate room at the headquarters.

One of them, Islambibi, was a feisty woman, with a ready laugh. She told me she had been married at 10 to a man who was 43, and had had the first of her five children when she was just 15.

I must have looked aghast, because the women simply laughed.

"We have our tradition, and our culture," she told me.

One of her colleagues told me she had single-handedly squashed a would-be suicide bomber by throwing herself on top of him when he resisted arrest - a rather foolhardy thing to do, I thought, but apparently it worked.

Islambibi told us she had joined the police to try to create a safer future for her children. But her smile faded when I asked what security was like now.

The day before, insurgents had blown up a local bank on police payday.

"Security is worse again," she said. The others nodded. Yet they seemed to accept that violence was simply something that ebbed and flowed here. None of the women in this small stuffy room had known peace for very long in their lifetime.

Roast chicken

The next day we drove in an armoured vehicle to Highway 601, one of the main roads through Helmand, sweat dripping from the British soldiers' faces.

They are trying to make the roads more secure, because if people can move safely, that might just encourage some farmers to plant crops other than the opium poppy, one of the few things to grow well in this soil.

Living, sleeping, eating and working in a sandy base by the road, British troops were helping the Afghan police man to the checkpoints.

Their presence seems to ensure the police do their job properly and do not take bribes or intimidate, at least not when the soldiers are watching.

An overloaded van passes by with a wedding party inside, children smiling and waving as the adults play celebratory drums. Another van, laden with disgruntled goats passes by, the driver looking nervously at the police.

Afghanistan produces 92% of the world's opium

Right next to the small British base, where the heat has risen uncomfortably to the mid 50s, is the Afghan police station, where the police chief invites us in for lunch.

He has a tired face, perhaps from a lifetime of fighting. But he produces a feast of roast chicken and salad, and we eat cross-legged, the plates laid out on a blanket on the floor.

"How long do British troops need to stay here?" I asked the colonel.

"For as long as we need their help," he told me. "We still do not have enough police, and they do not yet have enough weapons or ammunition."

I ask what would happen if British and other Nato troops left Afghanistan soon. The Afghan colonel was unequivocal. The bloodshed would start again, rival tribes would vie once more to be the most powerful.

It did not worry him that the man at the top of the coalition forces had changed. Whether Gen McChrystal or Gen Petraeus, that was up to the Americans.

The main thing for him was the help their forces gave while the Afghans themselves tried to sort out their rivalries and create a government that worked enough of the time.

Unyielding soil

We visited to another patrol base the next day, where Afghan army recruits are being mentored by British forces. "They are not there yet, the Afghans," one soldier told me.

For most of the recruits, this is just a job and it is about daily survival. They have survived the wars that have raged throughout their lives, he said, and they just want to stay alive as long as they can, earn enough money for three bowls of rice a day, and at the end of their military service, go home to their families.

The soldier gestures towards the recruits. Some are good and the people here like them, but others do not even want to go out of the gate to go on patrol.

I knew exactly how they felt. The day before we came, a British soldier lost his legs to a Taliban roadside bomb not far from here.

As we walked apprehensively on a path between the fields, I looked over at the young faces of the soldiers with us, British and Afghan, and at the kit that weighed them down in the morning heat, sweat already soaking through their shirts and their heavy body armour.

Many British soldiers in Afghanistan are based in southern Helmand province

It was with relief that we returned to the nearest British camp in Nad Ali. It is built on the site of an old British fort, its crumbling clay walls all that remain of these soldiers' great-great-grandfathers' efforts.

The walls are a reminder that foreign armies have come and gone, and that the British have been here many times before. This time, British soldiers are trying to turn this hot dusty province into something that has at least a chance to flourish.

They are trying hard to sow those seeds into stubborn, unyielding soil and nurture the results, eager to point out a few small green shoots just beginning to peek above the sand.

But nothing in the Afghan garden seems to grow to a Western clock and the Afghans know that our patience is running out. And they fear we may not be the constant gardeners they need.

Our armoured vehicle is stuck in mud!

Oliver Harvey, The Sun

THE harsh voices crackling over the walkie talkie are Taliban fighters - and they are enough for the Grenadier Guards officer in our party to call for silence.


Their broad Pashto on the intercepted conversation is soon translated for us, as one insurgent barks: "Praise be to God, I'm in the same place as yesterday."

Shifting nervously, I glance over at 3 Platoon Queen's Company leader Lieutenant Mike Dobbin, a charismatic officer in the Guards tradition. He is surveying the cost of an attack the previous evening by a 25-strong Taliban raiding party on the isolated Afghan National Police outpost where we are now standing.

Bullet holes pepper the mud-walled compound. Lying on a filthy mattress inside is an Afghan policeman with a poorly dressed wound where a bullet had entered and left his calf.

Lt Dobbin, who during his four-and-a-half month tour has survived a direct hit from a roadside bomb that took out his armoured vehicle, smiles and says of the radio chatter: "We could be in for an interesting night."

In the light of a gas lamp, Sun photographer Andy Bush and I watch combat medic Michael Piantkiwskyj, 30, expertly re-dress the cop's wound.This is the other side of the brave British Army in war-torn Afghanistan - helping patch up the devastating toll Taliban bomb and gun attacks take on the country. And saving lives on a daily basis.

Guardsman Michael, from Northampton, did part of his 22-week medical training in a busy UK A&E department. He says: "Our policy is everyone gets treatment. I've seen amputations and dead bodies - that's what a medic does."

Lt Dobbin, from Reigate, Surrey, and a Cambridge economics graduate, explains that his patrol have come to bolster the attacked unit in this wind-blown compound at Kalabost, which guards the road into provincial capital Lashkar Gah. Nearby, scraps of brilliantly coloured red and green cloth flap in the breeze on antennae-like poles, marking old graves.

The lieutenant signals it is time to go. Addressing, the police commander he says: "Tell your officer he is a brave man." With that we quickly move in single file to the compound yard and prepare for the journey back to Lashkar Gah. Our interpreter, listening to the chat on the walkie talkie, believes the Taliban are not in the immediate vicinity. But it is still a hair-raising walk through the chill of a moonless Helmand evening to a 27-tonne Mastiff armoured vehicle.

Setting off in the pitch black across the bleak, lunar-like desert landscape, we soon come to an alarming halt. The Mastiff is stuck in the cloying, gloopy soil, left as thick as treacle after winter storms. I look around uncomfortably but the Grenadiers are untroubled. Eventually freed from the mud after a few worrying minutes, Sergeant Richard Archer, a Spurs fan commanding our Mastiff, then turns to address the crew.

Until now the sergeant from Burnham, Bucks, dad to five-month-old daughter, Ava, has been businesslike but jovial. Now his voice takes on more urgency. He says slowly: "We have reports of a suicide bomb at a hotel used by the Afghan police. The details are unclear but there are believed to be casualties."

Lashkar Gah - where Britain's task force is headquartered - was targeted early on Tuesday with a bike bomb. Seven civilians - one a child - were killed near the bus station, where women in burkhas shop for succulent oranges and huge cauliflowers grown in this fertile finger of green that is the Helmand Valley. Intelligence suggests the bomb is part of a wave of attacks on coalition forces in the town. At the sergeant's command, the Mastiff roars towards the scene.

The chatter in the back is matter-of-fact and punctuated with laughter as the men discuss their first crushes and which Premier League footballers could be gay. When we arrive at the disaster area it becomes clear the building has collapsed and not been subject to a Taliban attack. The four-storey hotel, which could boast being one of just two buildings in the mud-walled, low-rise city visible on Google Earth, is no more.

Two Afghan soldiers are believed to be trapped in the rubble.

The Brits try digging through the mass of twisted metal and thick concrete to look for their Afghan comrades. But it is a pointless task and Lt Dobbin orders his men back to HQ following a five-and-a-half hour patrol.

The top gunner in our Mastiff is Lance Corporal Mathew Mooney, 26, born in Coventry and raised in Australia. With an unmistakeable Sydney twang, he says: "My hairiest moment was being caught under heavy fire in a drainage ditch, but it's the bread and butter of the job. If you don't want to be in Afghanistan as a soldier you're in the wrong job." The youngest member of the platoon, who turned 18 in October, is Guardsman Simon Dent. An engineer's son and a keen runner, he keeps in touch with mates at home in Coventry on Facebook. He says: "Most of my friends are about to sit their A levels and I'm fighting the Taliban. "I've been shot at and you do get scared. The most rewarding thing is when the locals here wave and thank you."

Earlier in the day the platoon - on a six-month tour - had shown the importance of winning "hearts and minds" in the military strategy here. Helmand's Provincial Reconstruction Team - including staff from the British Government's Department For International Development (DFID) - say 44 schools have opened across Helmand since 2008.

DFID are funding road building, a new district hospital, a business park is under construction at Lashkar Gah airport and nearly 1,500 loans have been given to small businesses. The generals say winning over the population will deprive the Taliban of their hiding places and support structure.

The platoon are mobbed as they drop off pens and stationery at a 200-pupil boys school at Kalabost. The Afghan lads, some with reasonable English and a thirst for learning, say they appreciate the security the coalition forces provide. Ten-year-old Baryalai, who wants to be a doctor, says: "I would like to thank the people of Britain for sending their soldiers to help us. They will rebuild our country."

Headmaster Sor Gul, 54, adds: "The Taliban will be finished soon. There will be peace but we need factories and jobs."

Back at base, Lt Dobbin takes off his helmet to reveal blond hair, smooth cheeks and a fresh complexion. Remarkably, this leader of men, a Helmand veteran, is still only 25.

The hidden beauty parlour of Helmand

Make-up and fashion have become a form of resistance for many women in Afghanistan. Katrina Manson reports from Lashkar Gah.

Pamela Anderson and Afghanistan's most dangerous, conservative province might not at first glance seem to have much in common. But step into a busy, cramped room in Lashkar Gah, capital of Helmand province, and there she is: blonde locks, wide darkly made-up eyes, and petulant pink lips smiling down from a large mirror.

The crinkly laminated poster of the Playboy model's face is not the only surprise in a room filled with hairspray, fake eyelashes and lipsticks. For this is a hidden beauty parlour in a land where women appear in public only when shrouded in full-length burkhas that obscure even their eyes. Tucked into a private home down a dusty dead-end alley, women are indulging in playing at dressing-up in the province in which the fight against the Taliban rages and where more than 90 British troops have lost their lives since the start of the Afghan war in 2001.

It's the night before Roya's wedding, a white dress hangs on the wall, and she is leaning back. Wearing light, flowing fabrics of red, blue, gold and purple dotted with sequins, three more giggling women pack into the parlour. With a rapid, practised hand, beauty therapist Malika spreads lashings of gaudy, garish bright blue eye-shadow over Roya's eyelids before painting a thick goo of glitzy red lipstick on her parted mouth. "It's a form of personal resistance," says a justice expert at the British-led Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT), "and they're doing it with and for each other."

utside is the gritty Afghan reality familiar in the West from the coverage of the war. In the hot and dusty streets, bearded labourers pour concrete into ditches, auto-rickshaws painted with love hearts weave and swerve through a town which was planned by the Americans in the 1950s as a suburban "Little America" in Afghanistan. Amid the shopping stalls and mobile fruit-carts, men sit smoking and chatting as they drink green tea on the pavements, breaking off for the odd bit of trade.

Women are not allowed to run their own shops in the bazaar, the main shopping area, or to shake hands with men. Indeed, they rarely leave their homes. "Although we'd like to, we're not allowed to have this shop outside," explains Malika, "because it would not be safe and in any case our family would not allow it. But we like to wear colourful clothes and we love different colours – in fact, we'd like more make-up and more colours." Her tiny home-based boutique, one of three in the battle-hardened town whose name means "army barracks", makes 5,000 Afghanis (£60) profit a month.

For the full story click here for the Independent website

VIDEO: New prison opens in Helmand Afghanistan

A new £1.3 million prison has opened in the Helmand capital Lashkar Gah giving better security for local people and providing humane conditions for prisoners for the first time.

Until now murderers and Taliban lived cheek by jowl with petty thieves in a high-walled compound with no facilities other than a well. The prison was a no-go area even for the guards who ventured in only once a day to deliver food so in effect prisoners policed themselves.

Enforcing the rule of law is key to ensuring long term stability in Afghanistan. Projects such as the new Lashkar Gah prison are an essential part of the support UK is providing to help the Afghan government take responsibility for the justice system.

The prison was funded by the international Provincial Reconstruction Team in Helmand of which the Department for International Development is a key player. Local government and justice is a key element of the work being done by the PRT helping to improve peoples lives in the war torn province.

Under fire but Rachael enjoying life in war zone - The Northern Echo

A STUDENT has swapped her textbooks for Army fatigues to serve her country on a sixmonth tour on the front line in Afghanistan.

Teesside University student Captain Rachael Davies is serving in the Territorial Army (TA) with 3 Commando Brigade, based in Lashkar Gah, the capital of Helmand Province, in southern Afghanistan.

The 23-year-old, who is working towards a degree in disaster management, is helping to rebuild and stabilise the country during a year out between her second and third years at university.

Capt Davies, who has been in the TA for six years, is working for the Civil-Military Co-operation group, which is led by the multi-national, civilian and military Helmand Provincial Reconstruction Team.

Capt Davies, who plays rugby for Darlington Mowden Park Sharks, has career ambitions to work for the UN or an international non-government organisation doing postconflict reconstruction.

During her time in Afghanistan, she was based for three weeks at Nad-e-Ali, an area just regained from Taliban control, following heavy fighting during Operation Sond Chara.

“Operation Sond Chara was all about extending the security into new areas – therefore, the local people were not used to the presence of British Force,” she said.

“Understanding and appreciating their culture was very important to them.”

The brigade also helped with governance by supporting the work of a local elder in showing them how to organise the community in building two wells. During that period of service in the former Taliban stronghold, Capt Davies came under fire.

“It sounds strange to say, but it really has been part of the experience. At the time, it is just the training that takes over, you don’t feel scared, you just grab your body armour, helmet, take cover and react how we are supposed to. When you look back, it is terrifying, but hugely exciting,” she said.

“I would have been gutted not to have had this experience.”

Now her assistance to Operation Sond Chara is complete, she is now based in the 3 Commando Brigade HQ, in Lashkar Gah, where she will be out on patrols in outlying areas, gathering information on the progress of reconstruction and development.

She said she had enjoyed her experience on the front line.“It felt as if we were really doing something useful,”

she said. “We dealt with the local people on a daily basis, dealing with their problems and explaining who we were and what we are trying to do.

I saw it as being an ambassador for British Forces, helping to solve their problems and give them answers.”

*Pictured with her is Warrant Officer 2 Colin Butler and Afghan villagers

See the article on the Northern Echo Website