After a large breakfast, JK fetched the VW van from the underground parking lot and picked up Kaare, Ulla and the rest of the patrol in front of the hotel and headed north. By the time they reached Vedbæk, the Danish and foreign media had already arrived. It was a beautiful summer day, already twenty degrees centigrade. Channels DR1 and TV2 had decided to cover the press conference live and had lined up a couple of vans with satellite dishes on the large parking lot in front of the Defence Command. Other news channels had started background reports on Henrik-sholms Allé that led to the main entrance.
The press release prepared by the Defence Command’s press section had background information on the DANSOF mission in Afghanistan. Typically, the press would not get much information on the Special Forces, which made them especially intriguing. The mission in Afghanistan was novel enough to bring the foreign media out in force, too. A van with a CNN logo on its side drove up to the main entrance and parked beside the barrier to the parking lot. One of the sentries had already spotted the van and ran towards it. He knocked gently but firmly on the driver-side window. The driver struggled to roll the window down while 72simultaneously pausing his MP3 player on the dashboard and removing his headphones. The sentry did not lose his composure.
‘You are not allowed to park here. It’s all down there,’ said the sentry smilingly, and he pointed to the line of cars heading for the parking lot.
The young man behind the wheel nodded compliantly, turned the ignition and drove towards the pack of crew heading from their cars. The reporters were already queuing up for ID check before being shown to the first floor, where a Military Police Sergeant would direct them to the operations centre of Defence Command; there the thirty or so journalists, photographers and cameramen found a seat. The air-conditioning had been running all morning, and the air was surprisingly crisp and chilled in the room, although the spotlights of the cameras produced a lot of heat.
Kaare stood with the chief of defence by the speaker’s chair. Behind them were two large flat screens built into the wall, and in the opposite corner was a camera for videoconferencing. One of the flat screens displayed a frozen picture from CNN while the other displayed a large operations map. Ulla stood a few metres away with a policeman and the members of Kaare’s patrol.
‘It’s probably best if I start. Then you can read your description of events aloud. Ten minutes for Q&A at the end. We will execute this to the letter of the script, agreed?’ said the Chief of Defence to Kaare.
‘Absolutely, sir,’ said Kaare; he knew that nothing was up for debate.
Kaare was uneasy at the whole spectacle. He made sure, for the umpteenth time, that his maroon beret sat smartly. He did not want to show any cracks in his steely appearance, especially not in 73front of the General. But everything was getting under his skin. The photo of him on the press release meant that his anonymity was compromised for good. The sharp light from the cameras blinded him. And the row of journalists sat like hatchlings with their mouths open, waiting to be fed. It was all just too much. I would rather kick a door down in the middle of the night, a round in the chamber, he thought and stepped to the side, allowing the Chief of Defence to move towards the speaker’s chair. Ulla moved beside Kaare, gently squeezing his hand and kissing him softly on the cheek. He smiled nervously at her, positioning himself directly behind the General, sat on the speaker’s chair. Mads Andersen, Johan, PW, Hans and JK lined up discreetly behind Kaare. He also noted, with relief, that they looked warily over the gathering. The very public appearance was something they were all unaccustomed to and something they had all sworn that they would never be part of. Going public like this could compromise co-operation with foreign special force units – who shunned media attention like the plague. Today’s press conference was not in and of itself particularly controversial. But anonymity was, for operators, often a prerequisite in executing a mission that, for operational reasons, was not allowed into the public domain, at least not until the mission was complete. And even then, the identity of operators was never revealed.
‘Welcome and thank you for attending,’ the Chief of Defence started with a smile and continued: ‘Over the last week, the Defence Command and the Defence Secretary have received several enquiries from the press about the recent events in Afghanistan. We have called this meeting to give you the facts and thus remove the need for any speculation. Due to the confidential nature of the 74operation and our co-operation with ISAF forces, there are details we will not be able to disclose. I kindly ask you to respect that. But we can today give you an account of the episode’s main features, which have rightly attracted so much attention.’
The General let his introduction sink in and glanced at the room to build up suspense:
‘The events took place east of Lashkar Gah on the border between Helmand and Kandahar provinces. The area is shown on the screen behind me, and the map is also in your press pack on your chairs,’ he said as he pointed with a small laser pen at the map behind him. ‘The Defence Command has nothing critical to say about how the mission was handled. Absolutely nothing. The Defence Judge Advocate Corps has already investigated the incident in detail. The firefight, which patrol leader Kaare Strand will explain in full, was entirely a matter of self-defence. Russian ISAF soldiers opened fire on our soldiers first. It has since come to light that the Russians were involved in illegal opium transport. During the firefight, two Russian soldiers died. Thirteen persons were detained, and the narcotics were impounded. The detainees have been handed over to the US Military Police in the region as we’re not authorised to take prisoners. Those of local descent have, for the most part, been released, and the Americans have confirmed that those held captive will be dealt with following the Geneva Convention. As the media has already reported, negotiations are ongoing to hand over the Russian prisoners to the Russian authorities. The same goes for three ethnic Chechens. That part is, in reality, no longer a matter for ISAF or, for that matter, for the Defence Command. Our ongoing co-operation with ISAF, particularly with the Russian units in ISAF, is still exemplary. All 75sides are treating this event as an isolated incident,’ the Chief of Defence explained and turned towards Kaare: ‘I will now hand over to Staff Sergeant Kaare Strand and take this opportunity to thank him for an exceptionally professional effort. It also gives me pleasure to announce that Her Majesty the Queen has decided to award the entire patrol the Ministry of Defence’s Medal for Bravery.’
As the Chief of Defence stepped aside, a pre-recorded snippet from CNN’s coverage of the episode in Afghanistan came to life on the screen. The sound was turned down low, but everyone in the room instinctively focused on the sunlit images and the closeups of the vast amounts of narcotics impounded. Even though most journalists had seen the news flash, the images spellbound the audience. Pictures speak a thousand words, thought Lieutenant Colonel Mikkelsen, head of the press and information section, darting a self-assured look around the room. Kaare stepped up to the microphone under the cover of the CNN piece and waited for it to fade out.
‘I actually don’t have much to add to what the Chief of Defence just outlined,’ he began in a firm voice. ‘That morning was one of the more extraordinary in my career. I had never fought against Allied troops, and that was bizarre. We were shot at and returned fire, following our Rules of Engagement. We detained a group of people and impounded a large amount of narcotics. I understand that the Russian soldiers’ behaviour was not condoned by Russia.’ Kaare cleared his throat and continued: ‘Our mission was confidential, but I can confirm as much as that we accomplished the task we had been given. The narcotics were not our target but pure serendipity. We did not know that ISAF forces would be 76present in the area. As far as I understand, what the Russian soldiers were doing there is still being investigated. No Danish soldier was harmed, and I’m proud that we have been found worthy of a medal; although, I think many others have done similar things. I, for obvious reasons, cannot comment on the actual grounds for us getting the medal. We’re proud of our actions, and all Danes can be as well. Questions?’ Kaare ended with apparent relief.
He had rehearsed the words repeatedly but was nervous and spoke too quickly. At least the worst is over, he thought, noting the murmur spreading amongst the journalists. Suddenly, a male TV reporter stood, and within seconds a microphone had been placed in his hand. He made sure the microphone was switched on, consulted his notes briefly, and directed his gaze to the speaker’s chair:
‘The Russian narcotics transport is not the first example of black-market trade amongst ISAF forces,’ he stated, following with a question: ‘Do you really not know who’s masterminding all of this?’
The question hung in the air for what seemed to Kaare like an eternity.
‘I believe that’s for me to address,’ said the Chief of Defence, stepping towards the microphone. ‘I understand the premise for your question. However, I have to refute the notion that there should be any kind of illegal activities amongst the ISAF contingents,’ he continued with a wry smile.
Another journalist had now stood and was handed a microphone:
‘Isn’t there a large responsibility on the part of the Russians in this matter?’ He did not wait for an answer but continued: ‘Has the minister or the Defence Command contacted the Russian authorities officially to get to the bottom of this?’77
‘This is an internal issue for ISAF, not an issue between our governments. The ongoing investigation is not something that I can comment on,’ retorted the General, barefacedly.
The questions had clearly aroused the appetite of further journalists, and one signalled aggressively for the microphone.
‘Peter Grønnegaard, TV 2,’ he said in the unlikely case anyone had failed to recognise him as TV 2’s most famous reporter. He scanned the room for attention and turned to Kaare: ‘Are you prepared to return to Afghanistan? You said it was a day that left its mark on you. Have you come to doubt why we have soldiers in Afghanistan and why Jaegers put their lives on the line there?’
The Chief of Defence nodded at Kaare, prompting him to answer.
‘I’m a soldier,’ Kaare began falteringly. ‘If I’m assigned a mission, I must carry it out to the best of my ability. This is true wherever the mission is located, including Afghanistan,’ he continued with a tired smile, detailing his position: ‘I would like to emphasise that I am absolutely fine with helping to establish and maintain peace in Afghanistan. And by the way, the Army Operational Command needs volunteers for ISAF forces, so anyone watching today who is interested should sign up. I can fully endorse that: Afghanistan has a huge task ahead, and Kabul is fascinating.’
The Chief of Defence sensed that Kaare had forgotten the script and stepped closer to the microphone:
‘I completely agree with the Master Sergeant on that point. Are there any more questions?’
His tone of voice made it abundantly clear that the session was over. But a female journalist ignored him, ensuring her cameraman had her on live while getting the microphone.78
‘Anja Vibe-Holm, Channel 1. Can we really not get a detailed account of that day’s events in Afghanistan?’
Kaare glanced defiantly around the room and locked eyes with the journalist: ‘I’m sorry. Our mission was classified. I have nothing further to add.’
She was unsatisfied with the answer and took a more aggressive stance: ‘One wonders why you’ve called this press conference. The public has a right to know what Danish soldiers are doing. And I would like to hear how the events have affected you. And your girlfriend standing right next to you.’
Her pointed demeanour made the time stand still in the room, and Kaare sensed the growing discontent amongst the journalists. The mood had changed in a heartbeat. His gut feeling had once again been right: taking part in this media circus was a mistake. All he wanted was to return to Aalborg. But despite the turn of events, he leaned towards the microphone with resolve:
‘It was no Sunday picnic. But we are trained professionals. Although I understand the public interest in this matter, I regrettably cannot say anything more due to national security interests. I believe the man on the street fully understands that.’
The Chief of Defence felt things were getting out of hand and stepped forward to Kaare’s rescue: ‘We have the pleasure today of having Chief Superintendent Nygaard from the Police Drug Enforcement Centre present. He can explain a bit about narcotics,’ he said sternly, gesturing towards the policeman.
The Chief Superintendent walked keenly across the floor as a large map appeared on the flatscreen.
‘On the map, you can see the traditional routes of narcotics trafficked to our part of the world,’ he said as he drew lines on 79the map with a laser pointer. ‘Our soldiers disrupted a shipment at the beginning of the Balkan Route. Combating the production of opium for the western European market is front and centre for the police in Afghanistan. The objective is to turn the opium fields over to agriculture and, simultaneously, remove the financial foundations of terrorist and criminal gangs. The Balkan Route is one of the most trafficked routes, and we, therefore, have a man stationed out in the region to keep an eye on what goes on,’ he continued enthusiastically.
Kaare tuned out. The rambling through a long list of technical facts about opium production sites, brown heroin, and the prices in the different layers of the distribution chain were merely background noise. Only when the Chief of Defence, roughly fifteen minutes later, stepped up to the microphone did Kaare switch back on.
‘And with that, I’d like to thank you for coming today,’ the General said, turning off the microphone.
The final words sparked outbursts of exasperation from the floor. The press corps agreed vocally on the unacceptability of being given no accurate details. Lieutenant Colonel Mikkelsen tried to smooth things over with some of the more vociferous journalists. But the crowd was breaking up, and the situation turned chaotic when a couple of burly military policemen assertively started to clear it. The highly trumpeted press conference was a shambles, according to several journalists, and a couple of members of the foreign press corps batted their eyes at the amateurishly executed event. When the room, at last, had been cleared of the journalists, a photographer pulled Kaare and the patrol to one side for some posed shots with the Chief of Defence. Kaare shook his head and looked at Ulla as he tried to force a smile. 80
‘Well done, my love,’ she said and sent him an air kiss.
My man on national television. One of Denmark’s heroes, she thought. And as the photographer appeared satisfied, she kissed Kaare on the cheek. Another photographer’s flash startled her, and Ulla turned towards the photographer as a Military Police Sergeant managed to escort him from the room. Kaare was relieved that it had finally ended and exchanged a few words of courtesy with the Chief of Defence before heading for the car. Finally, they could drive home to Aalborg.