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request was doomed to

IEDs get in the way of my plan to reach Canada

troops continue to fight in this country, dying at a rate of about one a day.

Still, the war itself, now in its 11th year, commands little attention in the Western media and even less in the ongoing presidential campaigns.

At home in the United States, public opinion about the war effort is not favourable, with 66% opposed to it, and just 27% in support, according to a May AP GfK poll published by the Associated Press.

It makes the stories all that more important. Hopefully I get some soon.

When I showed up at the heliport Tuesday, there was the usual group of men standing around. No way to tell who they were, nor where they were going. The fashion seems to be to look as much like a special forces soldier as possible. This involves shaving one's head, sporting a thick ZZ Top mini beard, and a variety of tattoos, along with adopting a casual "It's just another day facing death" demeanour. I fit in perfectly apart from the missing beard, lack of tattoos, and the frightened look on my face. Of course it is also possible that they are all special forces.

One day after being bounced because there was no room in the helicopter, things were looking much more promising. The list said there were 30 spots available. All I had to do was set my alarm and get myself in the line up the next morning.

To fly on a helicopter you have to wear the full kit of helmet, Kevlar vest, long sleeves, gloves, ballistic goggles and closed toed shoes. It says so on the wall. I am by far the least fashionable guy around when it comes to body armour. I originally got mine in 2002 and it is a delightful orangey yellow desert colour. It is starting to show its age. But as far as I know body armour doesn't lose its potency no matter how old, and we have a bit of a shared history so I am sticking with it like it sticks to me from time to time. And 'so what' if it is not this year beige, or sage green.

I showed up on time with the same group of gentlemen from the night before and tried to look calm. I hate flying. I hate flying in helicopters even more. Then there are the Chinooks with the rotating intersecting blades. I try not to think about distracted helicopter mechanics.

I am there plenty early so I sketch one of the passengers reading his Kindle. After an hour or so, after roll call, we are all told to gear up. The Chinook is idling on the runway. As we exit the office onto the runway, everyone gets a free set of earplugs. Boarding the helicopter means forming a line like in primary school and walking in a 200 metre semi circle till we are directly behind the bird. In single file you march toward the back doors directly into the backwash from the rotors and the twin jet engines. There is a point where you actually feel like you might be Nike NFL Jerseys lifted off your feet before you enter the lea at the back doors.

I had planned ahead and written a note to the crew chief to ask if I could sit at the back doors. I was hoping to sketch and perhaps do a little filming. There would be no point trying to talk. I got the thumbs up from the chief.

The flight went smoothly. I concentrated on the sketching and the 40 minutes to FOB Qalat Lagman in Zabul Province went by very quickly. The sketches are a little wobbly.

At FOB Qalat Lagman, I Authentic Russell Wilson Jersey was met by First Lieutenant Christine Rosalin, the public affairs officer on the base. She gave me a quick tour and got me billeted. I dumped my gear and picked up my sketchpad and pencils. I was itching to do something. My previous day spent idle was weighing on me.

FOB Qalat Lagman has tightened security following a so called green on blue attack earlier this week. It was the latest in a string of such violence in which an Afghan police or soldiers have shot dead their NATO comrades. There have been dozens of these attacks this year, far exceeding any previous year.

After lunch I went and visited the soldiers in the maintenance wing. This is always an area I like to go and hang out. These guys don't see a lot of journalists, and fewer artists. When I arrived repair shed was empty and a basketball game was in full swing, using a very oily looking basketball. They were happy to let me hang out and draw some stuff while they played.

A couple of hours later, I had a couple of them come and pretend to be working on one of the vehicles I had drawn. Just so I could give them a shout out. I sketched them in from the photo afterwards. Years from now they won't care that we faked it.

So I am now in Zabul Province. It was never a home to any Canadian soldiers although it was part of Regional Command South when Canada had control. Zabul is not where I had hoped to be. It is nowhere I have been before. But I am out of Kandahar Air Field. Army Captain Troy Frey, who is in Forward Operating Base Ma'Sum Ghar a base previously home to a Canadian contingent. I had been pressing the PAO folks to get me back into some of the Forward Operating Bases, Combat Outposts (COP) Patrol Bases (PB) previously occupied by Canada. Firstly, most of the smaller bases were turned over to the ANA. This included the two at Chalgowr and Salavat, where the Canadians had worked hard to open schools. forces have no immediate presence in the area, nor contact with the ANA there. (For me, that means this particular avenue is closed. The last thing I need is to have a convoy veering off on some errand of mine unless there is a base there already). Secondly, apparently things are not at all well in the Horn of Panjwaii since the Canadians left. Captain Frey described them as "quite kinetic," soldier speak for lots of bad guys, and Improvised Explosive Devices.

He couldn't immediately see sending me in there and had been told by his commanders in the field that I was the last thing they needed.

The last "reporters" there were a group of filmmakers from Animal Planet. (You can't make this up). They were doing a very worthwhile piece on explosive sniffing dogs. I love those animals. They apparently struck an IED while in a vehicle convoy, leaving one of them with a torn up leg and one with a ruptured eardrum.

So my request was doomed to failure. I might still try and wholesale jerseys get to Ma'Sum Ghar or to Mushan to continue this story later in the trip.

The blog should be slightly more frequent from now on. Hopefully it will be about something else other than just me.

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