KANDAHAR - The weather has been cool and unsettled lately in Kandahar. But there's one group of Canadian soldiers who are watching the sky with more than casual interest. They know what's coming.
"On some days, it's already hitting 30 degrees, and it's only going one way," says Captain Craig Volstad. He gestures with his thumb. "And that's up!"
For the troops under his command, it won't just be hot; it will be more like hell.
Captain Volstad is a Strathcona, and takes his regimental history very seriously. The Strathconas began as a horse guard back in the year 1900, and are linked to some great moments in history, Canadian and otherwise. The Boer War and the Klondike Gold Rush, Superintendent Sam Steele and the North West Mounted Police.
Then it was horses.
Today it's tanks, and a mission called Task Force Afghanistan.
Leopard tanks to be exact and Captain Volstad is second-in-command of A Squadron. That means he mostly stays behind in Kandahar Air Field making sure these tired old beasts function on the battlefield. And that's not easy when you consider the Leopard was bought more than 30 years ago, and never with the heat and dust of Afghanistan in mind. In fact, not so long ago, there were plans to scrap the lot of them.
Yet, necessity often prevails, and in this case, that meant the resurgence of the Taliban fighting a guerilla war with suicide bombs and stealth attacks, hiding in orchards and vineyards where vehicles on wheels could never go.
So, bring on the Leopards.
Leopards with no air conditioning, in a country where summertime temperatures hit fifty degrees, which means 65 degrees inside a tank. Think dripping sweat and hot stuffy air; think of that heavy flak jacket and helmet you're wearing cramped into a space that's meant for mice not men. And if you're the gunner, think of your legs wrapped around the hydraulic cylinder, the hottest place of all.
Let me out of here.
So why would a young guy like Trooper Jesse Patterson ever want to become a tank man, roasting his body parts inside a steel box in the Asian desert. His job is loading the big gun.
"Ever since I was a kid, like four years old, I've always been fascinated by tanks," he says. "They're the biggest thing out there. Just driving around in one, you get a great sense of power."
"It's a pretty amazing feeling."
The defence ministry has promised a solution to the heat problem by May, just when it's beginning to boil here. There's talk of installing air conditioning units, but that would be hugely expensive-the soldiers have heard rumors of a million dollars a tank. The other suggestion is to give each crew member a coolant vest, the same kind of thing used by professional race car drivers, but that would mean putting on yet another layer.
Yet clearly, something will have to be done.
"The solution won't be pushed on us, unless they can perform their job effectively," says Captain Volstad. "I'm confident the people working on it in Ottawa are aware of our restrictions."
Now there's a man who has faith the in the brass back home.
So what does Trooper Darren Beatty think, having only ever trained in tanks back in the frozen Canadian north? He by the way is a gunner, and lucky him for, is a little guy.
"When you're in there seven, eight, nine hours, it starts to get a little uncomfortable." Now that's an understatement. "It feels like a really hot bath, a hot spring almost." How about an oven?
For now the answer is to suffer, drink lots of liquids, and when you can, hide in the shade like a desert rat.
"I'm not worried at all," says Trooper Patterson, who's 20-years-old by the way, and joined the armored corps when he was fresh out of high school. "I know there will always be a supply of water, and as long you hydrate, you shouldn't have any problems."
Okay, but 65 degrees is not just uncomfortable, it can also be dangerous, life threatening. For the military, there's both a safety issue here, and a strategic one.
"Obviously as the heat rises, the chain of command has to be conscious of the soldiers' welfare," says Captain Volstad. He doesn't spend much time inside tanks anymore, but he has endured a Kandahar summer, back in 2002.
And he believes the first 105 mm shell fired from a Leopard was a big bold message from Canada to the Taliban. Heat or no heat, he says the tanks are crucial to the success of the mission.
"It would be detrimental to the operation if this piece of equipment were deemed incapable."
"That won't happen."
We're standing in the repair yard where at least two of the tanks are in for servicing. Old equipment tends to break down, even when millions have been spent to refurbish them. The mechanics by the way can change a motor in less than 45 minutes.
So how reliable are these old Leopards anyway?
The captain answers with the care of a politician, or an officer who doesn't want to get into trouble.
"The vehicles are getting old," he says with a smile, "but we're still operationally effective."
"We do have our challenges, but we're keeping them rolling."
