Reporting from the Afghan front

BBC Scotland's Cameron Buttle went to Afghanistan with cameraman Alan Harcus to report on how Scots in 52 Brigade are coping with operations in Helmand Province.

In December, Cameron saw 52 Brigade take part in the operation to capture Musa Qal'eh.

The commanding officer of task force Helmand, Brigadier Andrew Mackay, told him to come back in three months to see the difference.

On his return, Cameron filed a regular diary on their progress.

MONDAY

Cameron Buttle and Alan Harcus prepare to return home

We began our 24-hour journey home this evening with an unforgettable windows open, low-level Chinook flight to Kandahar airbase at sunset.

I thought this would be my overriding memory of this trip to Afghanistan - vast mountain ranges giving way to barren scrubland, merging into soft rolling dunes, the occasional mud-brick compound or remote tented settlement.

But while we sat on a bus at Kandar airbase, waiting to be driven out to the runway for our flight home, I can see the white hackles of the next batch of the Royal Highland Fusiliers to arrive here collecting their luggage.

I'm the best part of 40 years old so most of these soldiers look so young to me. We'd flown out with some of these guys last week, chatted with another batch before they left for Kabul, met more down in 'Lash'.

Having spent time with them I personally found an incredible maturity and sense of purpose, coupled with an irrepressible sense of mischief.

These are the guys who I expected to protect me without question when I briefly went out on patrol with them. And I never doubted that they would.

Tonight I watched them capering and fighting for their kit in a huge mountain of bags and rucksacks in the airbase spotlights.

But now I'm on the plane, I think my final memory will be of the soldier a few feet away from me. He's buckled into a stretcher with medics making him comfortable for the long flight home.

I won't say anything more about him. It's simply a moment I won't ever forget.

SUNDAY

Cancel that. Another day in "Lash Vegas" beckons.

That's part and parcel of daily life in Helmand you're never on a flight until your bum's on the seat.

We were supposed to catch the "Helmand Express" direct from Lash to Kandahar Airbase.

But this Sunday's "Express" was two American Black Hawks (there's always two aircraft on any flight for cover), there simply wasn't enough room for Alan and I and our 10-bag, 120kg load of kit on such a busy flight.

We'll have to catch a Chinook tomorrow.

No patrols to join again today so I spent the morning chopper-spotting down at the landing site.

I simply never tire of watch these huge machines drop down over the roof tops from nowhere.

He'd served all over the world in some very dodgy places and he'd never seen "thousand yard stares" like it

One of the more amusing moments was when some local contractors thought they had time to lumber across the landing pad in a fuel tanker as a chopper approached.

The RAF ground staff thought otherwise and made their feelings perfectly clear to the driver.

One flight brought in a group of pleasant, smiling, middle-aged Afghan men.

They were met by an American official working on a reconstruction project.

The official tried to speak to them in English, then French and finally Russian.

It was incredible to hear the American speaking to the Afghans in the language of the last nation to fight here in a war which that nation lost almost two decades ago.

When these men were growing up, if you wanted to get on in life you learnt to speak Russian in school.

Now it's the next generation who are learning to speak English.

It reminded me of a comment made by a CP (close protection) guard when we briefly got out of the Land Rovers in the centre of Musa Qal'eh the other day.

He'd been part of the perimeter protection immediately set up when we stopped and he'd stood face to face with a group of Afghan men.

Musa Qal'eh is not a place you go into lightly or hang about in for long.

When we got back into the Land Rover he said he'd served all over the world in some very dodgy places and he'd never seen "thousand yard stares" like it - world class he said.

The Afghans have had generations of practice.

SATURDAY

There's a box of yellow ear plugs next to every helicopter landing site.

They're the small yellow foam kind that you squeeze flat before putting into your ear and they expand inside.

They are vital if you want to keep the massive thundering, thudding noise of the twin rotors of a Chinook at bay but not so good if you want to get a decent night's kip in the same room as a snoring cameraman.

He's unbelievable!

But my flagging spirits lifted when Sgt Forrester from the Royal Highland Fusiliers came to tell me I could join him and A Company out on patrol into Lash this morning.

A Company of the Royal Highland Fusiliers on patrol

I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some butterflies in my stomach when we loaded up into three Land Rovers.

The aim was to get Sgt Forrester's men familiarised with this sprawling town, to working in the heat.

As we drove through the streets, children would shout and cheer as we went past but any adults or vehicles coming anywhere near the patrol were shouted back to a safe distance.

Within 20 minutes we were back safe inside the base walls.

I felt myself relaxing and was surprised at how tense I'd been the whole time we'd been out.

It hadn't seemed to put the men of A Company neither up nor down.

This is what they'll be doing as a mater of routine for their six month tour.

We begin our journey home tomorrow.

FRIDAY

I'm not sure whether I heard it or not.

As you'll appreciate there's a lot of noise in and around a busy military camp in a hostile country.

But at 0824hrs this morning a suicide bomber blew himself up in the centre of Lashkar Gah, killing two Afghan police officers and a civilian.

I was told it was clearly audible in the camp but you had to know what an explosion really sounds like, and I don't.

The soldiers are on patrol duty in Lashkar Gah

There was no chance to join a patrol into Lash today so I joined the men from A Company of the Royal Highland Fusiliers on a training morning inside the camp.

They had only been in Afghanistan for a couple of weeks at the most, there was still a bit of sun burn to be seen.

They practiced their SOPs, standard operating procedures, such as automatically securing a perimeter.

These SOPs have been developed over decades of operating in hostile urban areas from Malaya and Yemen, from Northern Ireland and Bosnia.

All of them were performed to the satisfaction of Sgt Davie Forrester from Kilmarnock, a seasoned solider with a few hostile tours under his belt.

But few in A Company could match 20-year-old Charlene McConville from Castlemilk in Glasgow.

Working behind the counter in the NAAFI shop, she's done two Iraqs and now on a third Afghanistan.

She was an incredibly cheery soul who took everything in her stride.

While we sat and watched a mixture of Foreign Office, UN, young Afghan lads and some Jocks play volleyball I heard that there'd been some contacts up in and around Musa Qal'eh - where we would have been if cameraman Alan hadn't dislocated his shoulder.

There's still a chance of a joining a patrol tomorrow morning.

THURSDAY

Alan made it back from Camp Bastion today. No broken bones, but he's out of action for the rest of the trip which is now being cut short to get him back ASAP.

As you would expect here, the medical care is first class - within five minutes of touching down at Bastion he'd had his x-ray, within half and hour he'd been given the all clear.

When we were in Bastion last year the field hospital was very impressive.

A complex web of ribbed tents with some amazing equipment in them.

Now, Alan tells me, engineers have built a new hospital which is bigger and even more impressive.

Everywhere we travel around the military camps in Afghanistan you get the same sense of the temporary being made permanent, tents making way for pre-fab buildings.

Since we arrived we've been working out of Lashkar Gah, the Brigade HQ for Helmand Province.

Some, mostly those deployed elsewhere, refer to it as Lash Vegas.

And it has to be said, it does have a lot going for it, a gym, a NAAFI, a post office and a TV tent.

But it's still in the capital, right in the heart, of one of the most dangerous places in the world.

These guys are itching to get out from the camp walls

I don't think I've ever washed my hands so much in my life.

No matter where you go in any base, you're never standing far away from a bottle of disinfectant hand gel or a sign drumming into you how serious and debilitating a bout of D&V (diarhorrea and vomiting) might be to the brigade.

Although it does give you awfully chapped hands.

I felt like a school boy buying condoms when I queued with some dusty Jocks to buy some hand cream in the NAFFI.

At dinner we often catch envious glances from some of the staff officers when they overhear us talking about our travels out of 'Lash Vegas'.

These guys are itching to get out from the camp walls, most of them have done tours of Iraq already and commanded patrols out there but this time that's simply not their job.

The chances of them getting out and about on this tour are pretty slim for most.

Tomorrow I'm hoping to join some Royal Highland Fusiliers on patrol around Lashkar Gah town centre.

WEDNESDAY

We spent most of last night in the medical centre at Lashkar Gah. Alan Harcus, the BBC Scotland cameraman out here with me, dislocated his shoulder when he fell walking round the camp.

Ironically, Alan's rather spectacular fall sent him stumbling right into the medic centre and pretty much straight into the arms of the doctor.

Injured cameraman Harcus and reporter Buttle at the medical centre

This morning we joined the queue at the helicopter landing site, Alan destined for an x-ray in the field hospital at Camp Bastion, me for Musa Qal'eh.

Three months ago I visited Musa Qal'eh with Brigadier Andrew Mackay, just days after his 52 Brigade from Edinburgh had re-taken the town from the Taliban.

The town has become iconic in the fight against the Taliban in Afghanistan. Military commanders believe it's vital for the Afghan government to stay in power here.

Today the Brigadier and I stood and chatted about the approaching Melrose Sevens rugby tournament (Brig Mackay was going to miss it again).

An hour later we were in Musa Qal'eh, Brig Mackay striding off to meet the local governor in the brand new residence built by the British reconstruction teams. The idea being that a new residence will bring credibility and respect to the beginnings of a local authority.

We had a lightning-quick tour of the town in a convoy of "snatch" Land Rovers, "agile but fragile" I was told.

We stopped at the tower dominating the middle of the town. This is where it's claimed the Taliban hanged people, including teachers. Today it overlooks a brand new school building, once the Taliban's headquarters.

A man had tried to force his way into the camp before being shot down by an Afghan Police sentry

It was impossible for me to tell exactly what the changes meant for the people of Musa Qal'eh, but I could see for myself it was cleaner, new roads were being built, a new power generator was up and running, shops were open and a radio was playing music in the street.

None of those things were true three months ago.

A convoy of Warrior armoured personnel carriers ploughed through the dust to take us to Forward Operating Base Edinburgh, about seven kilometres up in the mountains overlooking Musa Qal'eh.

Here the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, the Royal Highland Fusiliers and a company of The Highlanders had just started their six-month tour.

As we lifted off from FOB Edinburgh into the sunset the Chinook pilot took the low and fast option back to Lash. As the chopper swung from side to side and in and out of the deep valleys I caught the occasional glimpse of our Apache protection escort.

As we landed back at Lashkar Gah we heard the main action of the day had happened back here in our absence.

A man had tried to force his way into the camp before being shot down by an Afghan Police sentry. Just like Alan, the man had been treated in the medical centre before being sent off for more treatment at the field hospital in Camp Bastion.

Unlike Alan, he'd gone in handcuffs.

TUESDAY

They do a good breakfast at Kandahar Airbase, almost anything any nationality serving in Afghanistan could wish for. We shuffled along through the queues of Czechs, Canadians, Dutch, French and Americans, mostly trying not to jab ourselves on the barrels of the weapons that some nations insist their soldiers carry at all times.

By 0900 LOCAL the temperature was getting well into the high 20s (it'll peak well into the 40s in the next few months). Thankfully you don't have to wear your body armour in Kandahar, even though there had been a couple of rocket attacks recently. That's because the threat is very low and it's not until we caught our next flight out that you can see why.

Brigadier Andrew Mackay said come back in three months

The airbase is simply vast - there are now 15,000 people stationed here - it's perimeter fence stretches for 12km. A rocket would have to travel a long way and be pretty lucky to do any real damage.

As our Royal Navy Sea King lifted off over the base I was hoping the temperature would drop as we were back in helmet and body armour for our 40 minute flight to Lashkar Gah. But the down draft just swirled the heat around the back.

While I write these notes in my notebook, my heart rate is just settling back to normal. A few moments ago the rear-door gunner opened up with his heavy machinegun with a quick burst. Even with my earplugs in I still jumped about two feet out my seat.

I've no idea why it happened - we'll be jumping out with no time for questions when we get to Lash , but no one else seems overly concerned. Alan is still pretending it didn't bother him.

NOTE: I've just been told that once the pilot clears the airbase, it's good practice to fire off a few rounds and check the gun is working. I couldn't agree more.

MONDAY

We were in the departure lounge at RAF Brize Norton when the news broke - two Royal Marines had been killed in a roadside bomb in Southern Afghanistan.

Cameraman Harcus and reporter Buttle at Kandahar airbase

Word spread quickly among the 200 passengers, the latest deployments to Op Herrick 07, the British military campaign in Afghanistan.

A few minutes later the pilot walked in and announced a four hour delay to our flight to Kandahar Airbase. We had to wait for a Critical Care Team to be scrambled, while another severely injured casualty had to be urgently transferred back to the UK on the return flight.

I watched a detachment of Royal Highland Fusiliers exchange glances and a few quiet words. But then they did what all military personnel do so well, fall asleep wherever and whenever possible within minutes.

By 1100 BST we'd all boarded the RAF Tri Star jet. We sat up front next to the stretchers bolted to the aisles, metal rigging waiting for drips and slings, webbing and strapping for the patient and equipment.

The CCT arrived sweating and panting, lugging cases and emergency packs that were quickly stowed under the bed. The team sorted and checked the gear throughout the seven hour flight.

Half an hour before landing we began our descent into Afghanistan. Helmets and body armour had to be worn, every light was switched off for a complete black-out on board.

Flight RR3420 finally touched down at Kandahar Airbase just after midnight local time.