Reflections on a war

The Military Commander

Major-General Andrew Mackay, 54, was brigadier of Edinburgh-based 52 Infantry Brigade and led the Helmand Task Force from October 2007 until April 2008. He resigned from the army in 2009, three months after being made head of the armed forces in Scotland, Northern Ireland and Northern England

“I watched the Twin Towers fall from Kosovo, glued like the rest of the world, to a television screen. I had spent the previous nine months in Pristina but knew instantly, along with everyone else in the room, that the world was about to tilt, about to undergo a fundamental change as a consequence of what the US response to the attack would be.

“It was 2005 when I first set foot in Afghanistan. I was commanding 52 Brigade and went out to visit one of my battalions during their tour. They were in Mazar-e-Sharif in northern Afghanistan and even then you could spot that things were going badly wrong. I had been in Iraq throughout 2004, so had a good sense of what had precipitated its slide into anarchy. Afghanistan was different, was still heading towards a full-blown insurgency, but it was one that seemed somehow insignificant compared to what was simultaneously emerging in Iraq.

“My view was that Afghanistan lacked a coherent strategy and was unlikely to witness one while Iraq descended into further chaos. There existed an enormous gap between what was being discussed as strategy and what was actually going on on the ground. Policy, by some margin, did not reflect reality.

“It was as I prepared to deploy to Afghanistan as commander of the Helmand Task Force in 2007 that I learnt the full detail and that the descent into chaos had been a rapid one. There was no coherent strategy, muddling through was the order of the day and we were by no means implementing a coherent plan on the ground. We were essentially ‘making it up as we went along’.

“We fought a major battle for a town in Helmand called Musa Qaleh – we adopted high-risk strategies in an effort to get new ideas utilised and enforce a more non-kinetic approach to warfare, rather than the kinetic approach that had previously been adopted.

“But, more widely, the issue was that we were not an army – or indeed an armed force – that had adapted to the circumstances we found ourselves in. We were stuck with the old, tried-and-tested means and dismissive of new ideas. As an army we never really examined or questioned how we could do things better, how we could improve, and how we could adapt. The levels of systemic incompetence within the MoD that have been unveiled by Liam Fox over the last 18 months bears this out.

“I left the army 18 months ago. Some things, such as equipment, have improved but the fundamental problem – a clear strategy – remains elusive, and this will dictate, to detrimental effect, the course of events over the coming months. The gaps between policy, strategy and implementation remain as big as ever.

“I have concerns over the consequences of our involvement in Afghanistan. I’m concerned for all the soldiers who have died or been injured and the many families who have had to bear the brunt of those deaths and live with the long-term injuries. I wouldn’t want them to think what they achieved in Afghanistan was in vain. What we’re trying to achieve in Afghanistan is success – both for Afghans and our foreign policy for the region. It’s not about winning, it’s about a successful campaign – and that remains, I believe, achievable but unlikely.”

The Wounded Soldier

Private Paul Lambert, 30, joined the army in 2006. In 2009 he stood on an improvised explosive device (IED) in Sangin, Helmand Province, and lost both his legs.

“In 2001 I was working as an office junior in Edinburgh. I remember being shocked by 9/11 and when the war started in Afghanistan soon after, it made me think I wanted to sign up to the army. It was something I’d always wanted to do. In the end though, it was another five years before I joined. I worked for a law firm for a while and then a stone mason, but I wanted to do more with my life.

“I joined the army in 2006. It was exactly what I expected and I loved it. Looking back now I’m probably seeing it as more fun than it actually was, but that’s because I miss it so much.

“We were posted to Sangin in September 2009. We had been watching the news, and a lot of guys had been lost there so we were all quite worried. When we got there, though, I really loved it. It was our job to open up the bazaar, get the shops going and get the locals back to a normal way of life. One day, about seven weeks in, myself and another soldier were securing a compound. I put my right leg on the bottom rung of a ladder and my left leg on the foot of the ladder. That’s when I set off the IED.

“I knew instantly what had happened. I remember flying through the air and was so angry with myself. Every single day we were looking for these things and this had happened. It felt like hours had gone by from the detonation to when I landed. I knew I had lost one of my legs. I remember my mate saying ‘give him something to hold on to’. Then I was unconscious.

“They flew me back to Selly Oak Hospital in Birmingham after three days. It was touch and go for quite a while – I had a very low chance of survival and my dad was told it wasn’t looking good.

“It was a few weeks after coming round before I realised the state I was in. I thought my feet were through the hospital bed, that’s why I couldn’t see them. It was my dad who said ‘listen son, you’ve lost both your legs’.

“I came home after three and a half months, and moved in with my fiancée Gillian’s parents in Alloa. She was a pillar of strength. Everything I’ve been through, she’s been through twice as much. I don’t think I’d have got as well as I have if it weren’t for Gillian.

“I spend a lot of time going through rehabilitation and trying to get fit, and I’ve been doing some cycling in a specially adapted cycling wheelchair. Last year I cycled 325 miles from Brussels to Arnhem for Help for Heroes, and this year I’m hoping to cycle from Normandy to Paris. Next year I’m planning a cycle across America. I’ve done some work with Poppyscotland as well. It gives me a real sense of freedom.

“My pelvis was so badly damaged they had to go back to the drawing board with me when it came to making me prosthetic legs. I hate being stuck in a wheelchair and I’ve only recently got my prosthetic legs. Even though I’m only walking 50m or 100m at the moment, I’m coming on in leaps and bounds from this time last year.

“I wouldn’t have done anything differently. If I hadn’t joined the Army I would never have met my fiancée. Now we’re planning our wedding. I’m determined to walk down the aisle – It’s my aim to be able to do that on the day we get married.”

The Anti-war Protester

KATE CONNELLY, 25, runs the Stop the War Coalition branch in Colchester, one of Britain’s biggest military towns.

“I’ve been involved with Stop the War from the very beginning. At the end of September 2001 I went to the first anti-war demonstration outside the Labour party conference in Brighton. I was only 15 years old and still at school, but I felt very strongly that going to war was wrong. There had been all this rhetoric from politicians that 9/11 had polarised society and if you are against us you’re a terrorist. I thought it was important to be a part of challenging that.

“My schoolfriends and my family were all quite supportive of what I was doing. The difference was that before the war in Afghanistan I was the ‘weird’ one in class – the one asking questions about politics – but after the war more and more of my friends became like me. They started to care about politics and realise you can have an effect on it.

“In 2003, just before the war in Iraq, I organised a mass walkout at my sixth-form college. I got arrested, but I was only angry because I missed the protest.

“Demonstrations are so important because they cut through the rhetoric and show there is an alternative. We may not have stopped the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq but we have certainly stopped wars in other places by showing that we will not tolerate these kinds of invasions.

“Last year I moved to Essex to study, and set up a Stop the War branch in Colchester, home of the Royal Military Police and the Military Detention Centre. I was really apprehensive, setting up an anti-war group in a military town, but the response has been fantastic. We have wives, girlfriends, mothers coming up and saying ‘thank you for doing this’. We’ve had troops coming over and chatting. It just shows how sick people are of this war and how unpopular it really is.

“Joining the Stop the War movement was the most important event of my life. It’s changed the way I think and feel about everything. Next weekend we will be demonstrating in Trafalgar Square against the ten-year anniversary. Ten years of war in Afghanistan is ten years too many. We’ve been proved right by what we said ten years ago. We said it would prove unpopular, thousands would die, and the reasons for going to war were not legitimate. Unfortunately, all of that has been proved true.”

The Afghan Refugee

Dr Mohammed Khan, 57, fled Afghanistan with his family in 2001. He has lived in Glasgow ever since.

“Life under the Taleban was terrible. I lived with my family in Nangarhar Province and one day in 2001 my daughter and my sister were going to attend a marriage ceremony, and some men stopped them in the street. They disgraced them. When my son heard, he got angry and went out with his gun and shot at them. They were Taleban people and, shortly after, my son disappeared. I never heard from him again. Then a jirga [a local court made up of elders] decided that my daughter should be married to a man who was 65 years old. She was 11.

“I had no say in this decision and I decided I was not going to accept this. The decision of the jirga was like a court order, they could kill you or punish you if you did not obey. So I fled with my family, just as the war was starting.

“We arrived in Glasgow in late 2001. We watched the war happening in our country on the news. We didn’t know what was happening to our homes and our family. We didn’t have any contact and we didn’t know what the situation was. All we could see was what was happening in the media, and things seemed to be getting worse.

“In Afghanistan I had been a chemistry professor, but when I first came to the UK I could not work because I was an asylum seeker. I have never been able to do the work that I did in Afghanistan because I do not have the right teaching qualifications. Instead, I got qualifications as an interpreter, and worked as an interpreter for Glasgow City Council, and also worked with young people. The people in Glasgow have been so hospitable and we have found the Scottish people so friendly.

“The situation is getting worse in Afghanistan. The Taleban controls most of the provinces and many of the cities. The heart of the country has been torn out. I do not think I will ever be able to go back. I miss the seasons – the heat in the summer and the snow on the mountains in winter. But leaving was the right thing to do. I saved my children, I saved my life, and the life of my family.

“I feel so lucky because my children got an education in Scotland. My other son has graduated as an engineer, while my daughter, who was to be married off, has just graduated as a doctor. I am so proud of them both. They can go out in the world now and stand on their own feet.”

The Aid Worker

Dr Sarah Fane, 48, set up the charity Afghan Connection in 2002. It has since built 34 schools across Afghanistan.

“I first went to Afghanistan as a young medical student during the Russian war in the late 1980s. I fell in love with the place but I didn’t go back until spring 2001, when I was asked to go to have a look at a clinic in Panjshir Valley. I had four children, the youngest of whom was only two, and I said I wouldn’t go, but the next thing I knew I was on a plane.

“I was shocked at what had happened under the Taleban. The total destruction of the place was horrifying and women, especially, were really suffering. I came back and decided to set up a charity in Afghanistan, but it was difficult, there was absolutely no interest in the place.

“Then suddenly 9/11 happened, the Afghan war started and the world was talking about Afghanistan. For Afghans, I think they suddenly felt there was hope where there had never been hope before. We set up officially in March 2002, building clinics and schools. Over ten years we’ve raised £2.5m and built 34 schools that educate 40,000 children.

“I go there twice a year and each time I see changes. In 2001 there were no tarmac roads, no hospitals, no govern-ment. Now you have proper roads and people can get to markets, to hospitals and the capital more easily. There are now six million children in school rather than one million. Two million of them are girls. We’ve even got girls playing cricket. They weren’t allowed out of their houses ten years ago and they just cry out for joy at having that freedom.

“Over the years I’ve gone there and seen children studying outside, then you go back and you’ve built a school for them and they’re going off to university. It’s incredibly rewarding.

“It’s turned my life upside down. The combination of a charity and four children isn’t an easy one, but it’s been wonderful too. My children are all involved – one of them set up the cricket project, and they all go to schools that have twin schools in Afghanistan. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”