CHAD DIARY:An 'attack' turns out to be a false alarm, while soldiers are reminded that life at home goes on, writes Lieut Seán Byrne
MY BODY clock is getting used to my new routines in the base; we rise with the sun at 5.30am and often are asleep before 10pm. We're here almost a month now and my whole platoon has arrived.
We've set about bringing everyone up to speed on the camp SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures). Everyone is briefed on meal times, laundry days, dress codes, fire drills and the base's scheme of defence. All important issues are covered, including camp restrictions on water and electricity use.
For the last two Saturdays we've gone to the range to test fire our rifles. It focuses the lads' minds that they may need them.
As the routine continues all week, there is physical training and sports to fill the afternoons.
Then on Friday, as I changed into sports gear, the sound of automatic gunfire rang out.
Pat Moroney and Mark Tormey, the two cavalry officers in my company, looked at each other, then me. We ran outside the tent to investigate. Again the sound of gunfire rang out, a heavy calibre weapon, this time with by an airburst from a projectile.
The wail of the general alarm began to sound - just like the air raid sirens in the second World War. With that, we dived back into the tent, frantically getting into uniform. We grabbed our body armour, helmet and rifles, and ran to the form-up point.
By this time all personnel were running to their defensive positions. Armoured personnel carrier drivers pulled their vehicles on to the square. Mortar crews raced to mortar pits.
It turned out that the local force, the ANT, or Armée Nationale du Tchad, was conducting a live fire shooting exercise about a kilometre away and forgot to tell us.
As we walked back to our tents, the hill burned brightly with fires in the dusky sky. It was a lesson on the unpredictable nature of the region, and it was reassuring that our drills were tight.
The following morning was like the previous Saturday mornings. Off to the range to finish the last of the weapons "zeroing", and to conduct rehearsals for our upcoming patrol. We work hard on Saturday so we don't have to work hard on Sunday.
As unpredictable as life is out here, we are sometimes reminded that life at home continues without us. On Sunday morning the duty officer called to say he had received a call from home. The grandfather of a young soldier in my platoon had died.
I walked to his tent and told him he needed to contact home. My platoon sergeant and I called back later to see him. We felt helpless; there was little we could do or say to make him feel better.
This is a harsh learning curve for this young lad on his first trip away from home. It's another example of the sacrifices members of the Defence Forces make overseas. He wouldn't make it home in time to mourn with his family, but I was heartened to see the other young soldiers in his section rally around him: Army camaraderie, representing every soldier's second family, at its best.
We received our first long-range patrol tasking by the battalion operations staff. My company commander called all his staff in for a briefing. He gave us a warning order for a four-day patrol to the southeastern region of our area of operations. This gave us enough information to prepare what kit we needed before he delivered formal patrol orders detailing the operation.
I instructed the corporals to carry out a kit inspection to ensure all essential items were brought. Personal first aid kits, toiletries, foot powder, spare socks'n'jocks - they make a big difference in the desert. I want to ensure we set the standards early. Everyone is psyched about the upcoming patrol; this is what we came here to do.
• Lieut Byrne remains on duty with the Defence Forces in Chad. Further information may be obtained on the Defence Forces website, www.military.ie