Our Man in Basra

By W.Bro M Caseman-Jones PPrGStwd

PM and Sec Waynflete Lodge No 4452

You will recall that I landed in Iraq as May was giving way to June, and was assisted to my current appointment as Divisional Liaison Officer to the Police and Prisons team working out of Basra Palace in fairly double quick time.    I suspect that there isn’t any one back in the UK who hasn’t heard of Basra, doesn’t know where it is or alternatively what is going on there.

My predecessor handed over to me and under his guidance let me get to know the job and eventually organised his journey out of theatre, said his good byes and then left.    I suddenly became the Div Lo.    During my first week in post I met numerous personalities whom I had either worked with, served with or been to Lodge with so it didn’t take me long to settle in and if nothing else confirmed that this is definitely a very small world.

There is definitely a community spirit here, and people a very helpful and do go out of their way to assist where ever possible.   There is a strange sense of isolation bearing in mind that we are located in the middle of the City, although this is helped by the phone calls home, together with mutual assurance of well being and love with that important person at home, in my case my new wife Gail.

We have been together now for 3 years, although married for only 2 months before I deployed on this operation.   Gail is very understanding and we did of course discuss this in length before I came over.   Its quite surprising that after now being here for 34 days here little things which I take for granted at home are cherished here, namely mail from any source, even junk mail together with e mails and phone calls.

I have started my countdown chart and am already hassling those that need it to get information on my successor and arrival dates her in theatre.   I am nearly half way through the tour, although 50 nights’ left to go is a very long time.   I tend to view time in weeks rather than days as it seems a lot less, and although I am enjoying my time and the experience here, I cant wait to get home.

Summer is fast approaching here, and the temperature has already started to creep up from 45 to 48 degrees and the locals tell us that this is baby heat, and if you think this is hot wait till papa heat comes along, then you know its hot! 

Already any journey more than walking pace is like opening the oven door whilst the Sunday roast is cooking and that blast of hot air hits you square in the face, but there is no respite from it other than to look for areas of shade and perhaps limit movement to either first thing or later in the afternoon.

There are camel spiders over here that are the size of a small orange, sandy in colour, to help disguise them against the sand, of which there is lots and they are very aggressive, although as a self confessed arachnaphobe I am delighted to say that I have yet to see one.  

I have taken the liberty to work out my IA (immediate action) drills just in case I do see one, namely  a) Scream loudly, b) Run very quickly, c) Look for something to climb on, although I am told that they can climb up things (not good)  d) Look for something to hit it with.  

I am hoping that these well thought out IA drills will keep me well protected although again a well seasoned vet tells me that ‘they wont do you any harm, its your shade their looking for and they can run quite fast’.   Not very reassuring bearing in mind IA (a)!

The thing we do have here is the swimming pool.   Not quite sure where it came from but we are very thankful its here.   The soldiers who are stationed at the palace use the pool every day, between tours of duty and the FCO staff get to use it during days off.   

There is also a sporting scene here with football played on the all weather pitch every evening, where the die hards attempt to rediscover their lost youth, pretend we are 23 when in fact most of us are 45 and also imagine that we are at least 3 stone lighter.   20 minutes of football in 48 degrees, playing 3 against 3 soon dashes that particular fantasy.

We have games of football against each other, but we really come in to our own when we play the resident infantry companies, who are the real 19 to 23 year olds, who are fit and are 3 stone lighter, but I can say hand on heart so far we are undefeated.   

At the final whistle we were all very tired, breathing out of areas we didn’t know we had, but undefeated never the less.   Something to do with pride determination and the fact that we were all keen to show that although we looked past it, we most certainly were not.

The previous regime built the palaces on an existing site and there are at least 3 small lakes within our side of the compound.   One of my colleagues Bro. John DYER, a man who co incidentally joined up the same time as me back in 1983, who served with me in the TA, early 90’s and mobilised at the same time as me who also happens to be a fellow Police officer and a Hants & IOW mason, and member of the Airborne Forces Lodge meeting at Aldershot (where else) has managed to purchase a marsh Arab boat which is now moored in one of the lakes.

John saw the recent honours list and as the owner of Easy Jet got knighted John thought he would offer cheap trips on the 3 lakes.   His cunning plan is to offer himself up as a boat operative, the Basra ferry if you will where by he would charge $5 for a trip in the boat, and after about 40 trips would have regained the money he spent purchasing said boat in the first place.   Bad news is he is not quite sure how to row the boat, and balance once in the water still appears to be an issue, and as yet the life jackets have yet to arrive.   What would the HSE say about it.   Suffice to say at this moment in time John has yet to get any takers, probably because we are not quite convinced that he is any good with marsh Arab boats, and that we are not quite sure what lies underneath the lakes, although there are copious amounts of fish in the lakes which tend to grow quite large!

The world cup has featured quite large here, and as you can imagine England are the preferred team to support, mainly by the English contingent where as the other nations here tend to support all the other teams that England are playing, which is quite annoying at times, but every time we win its great to see the look’s on their faces, even more so when we remind them that their own country of origin didn’t get through.

Tour T shirts also tend to feature quite a lot here, and I have commissioned a shirt for all the boys who were mobilised at the same time as me, although the time lines of getting said shirts through might be a little long as mail does tend to take its time to get here, normally about 10 to 14 days by land.  

C (Northamptonshire) Company, 2 R ANGLIAN are out here at Basra and I am desperately trying to get a shirt for my nephew Sean, who loves everything military and as a Northampton boy would be delighted if I could blag one for him.   Watch this space.

It is worthy of note that there is little grass here, however there is a lot of sand.   We have been challenged to a game of cricket by colleagues from another location, although the only stumbling block is where do we hold the game. Despite this lack of real estate we do have all the equipment we need to facilitate a game, courtesy of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, together with numerous willing players.   

I am making progress on the pitch, although it might mean asking the Americans if they would like to field a team, as a trade off against their helicopter-landing site, which we need to use.   The only problem with that is most Americans don’t understand the game of cricket although they do tend to be fiercely competitive.  

True to the stereo type of the Britisher overseas we are looking to make this the mother of all matches, with whites, cucumber sandwiches, pimms and of course the obligatory strawberries and cream all played in ‘Papa heat’.   Should be interesting.

We had a News team here the other day, who were keen to get that all gripping story, no matter what the headlines were going to be.   Every night whilst their reporters were with us their news programme had something about Basra splashed across the screens, and although they cant see what they are doing in general terms, it does nothing to help those loved ones who are at home watching the TV, waiting to hear some News from a father daughter or son, or who just need a little reassurance that things are not as bad as they seem.

So the days to do here are getting few, and as I count down the days till home I am looking forward to the Masonic season starting again, although that does tend to coincide with the onset of winter and I will have missed summer at home.   Looking at the pictures of Wimbledon being rained off, and working on 48-50 degrees of heat I will be glad of a little rain and probably didn’t miss much our beloved English summer at all.

If you are ever at a loose end every third Wednesday during the months of September to April inclusive, looking to get a trip to the SW of the Province in the last out posts of the empire, situated between ‘unknown’ and ‘ there be sea monsters’ on your map, please come and see us at Waynflete Lodge.   We would love to see you, will make you most welcome and all those rumours about really late finishes are completely untrue, except on Installation.