Saturday, December 15, 2007:

I spent the day with mam and dad in Scarborough. We wandered around the town and I got a Shemagh – also known as my desert scarf – which was red and white and the colours of Sunderland AFC for the trip.

Bizarrely when I washed the scarf much later the colours leaked and it turned pink so it was ruined. Having said that I still wear a Shemagh scarf to this day.

And, looking back, I reckon my parents were visiting because I was going into such a dangerous situation and they wanted to see me before I headed out there.

Sunday, December 16, 2007:

Travel to RAF Brize Norton – the journey begins:

I was feeling a bit apprehensive all afternoon, realising what I had let myself in for and the fact I had signed away any responsibility on Johnson Press if I might die when I am out there, but I finally left Scarborough in the early evening.

All went well until I got to Oxford. I missed my turning and then struggled to find my way along badly lit B-roads with very few road signs. But I eventually found the airbase – RAF Brize Norton.

Monday, December 17, 2007:

Afghanistan bound:

Finally got checked in at 1am and managed to get three hours kip before an early morning alarm call at 5am. There are several rooms available to those flying out from the base – they were basic but comfortable. The flight is at 8.05am and check in is at 6.05am.

After a quick breakfast I checked in at about 6.05am. This means I face a two-hour wait before we can board our RAF Tristar. I have to admit I am feeling very apprehensive particularly as I am surrounded by soldiers and other military personnel who know exactly what to expect.

The plane is quite comfortable, compared with what it could have been, and we are looked after very well by the crew. But, at eight hours, the flight gave me plenty of time to dwell on what I was getting myself into.

As we approached Kandahar Airfield there was a short briefing about mortar attacks and then we were asked to don body armour and a helmet in preparation for landing. It was an eye opener when they instructed us to pull down the blinds on the windows to make the aircraft more difficult to spot by enemy troops on the ground.

It was at this point that I actually thought: “What the fuck have I got myself into?”  

Having said that the landing was uneventful and straightforward. After getting booked in on arrival I have a very eerie ride in a Land Rover in the dark and the desert dust was everywhere.

I am sharing a room with a team from the Sunday Times who, I later discover, have just returned from Musa Qala – the very place I would like to get to.

The town was liberated from the Taliban shortly before I arrived and soldiers from the Scarborough area were involved in the operation.

They are both asleep and the room is in darkness and I realise my sleeping bag is at the bottom of my rucksack.

So it was a very cold night’s sleep as I covered myself with fleeces, so they were not disturbed, and I was mainly kept awake by the constant stream of aircraft landing and taking off.