The rules
1. Two in-game weeks to collect information on most Soviet outposts.
2. Try to find as many senior officers as possible.
3. Just observe. The Soviet army can never know I was there.
This is a debriefing from Flaming Buffalo (I arrived late to assign the code name), of reconnaissance in the Soviet army controlled region of Afghanistan. I was given two weeks to navigate and gather as much information as possible about the USSR’s presence before the arrival of Big Boss. He’s a busy man, you know – it’s not like he can be in two places at once. finally.
I was helicoptered in at 1800 hours near Spugmay Keep at the southernmost point of the region, intending to navigate the entire outer rim. On foot I made my way to the nearest small sentry, where I positioned myself on a ridge with a view from above. I spent a whole day watching this paltry camp learning all about their operation and let me tell you that these Soviet soldiers are a disciplined bunch. They hardly sleep, hardly talk and certainly don’t take a break. When the one and only sandstorm of my two-week excursion came in, she barely cringed. If we find out they’re all robots, I wouldn’t be surprised.
On my way north I came to a larger settlement called Da Shago Kallai with a dozen soldiers, although something I would learn is pretty standard in their profession is the use of decoys. This time I planted myself in an abandoned house on the edge of town, which was convenient for its proximity and great view, but also because it made it a little easier to rest and pass the time.
From here I made a log of the trucks coming and going. Or a single truck, the same one of which seems to be rotating with a few neighboring settlements, returning about every four hours. I couldn’t find any hierarchy here. There were specialist positions such as radio operators, but no officers or leaders visible.
I spent more than a day observing this place and noticed a few shift changes with two guards sleeping at the same time. Finally, with no discernible prompting, they decided to extend the perimeter of their patrols to the suburbs where my building stood. On the afternoon of my third day, a guard decided to use this to his advantage and forced me to stealthily climb around the back of the building to find a position on a hill nearby.
I waited until nightfall before continuing, dodging trucks and searchlights to head into the dunes for supplies before heading to Lamar Khaate Palace. It struck me how little the region resembles mountainous Afghanistan, where it rains and snows, I was told. In fact, it looks a lot like Jordan, a country nearly 3,000 kilometers away. Maybe the Soviets terraformed it, like Big Boss encountered that Russian jungle years ago.
The palace is one of the few places that resembles anywhere in Afghanistan, and looks a lot like the Darul Aman Palace. It turned out to be defended by a skeleton crew, supported by decoys and numerous mines. A truck came and went and stopped for less than an hour on each trip north or south. Do these soldiers have any other missions than defending these random places?
Words and deeds
It’s about day five when I start listening to cassette tapes to pass the time while observing, in the absence of any life in the world or any dialogue from the soldiers. The only time I’ve heard these soldiers speak so far was to urge some goats to clear the way, an admittedly rare sign of activity.
The most surprising, or perhaps disturbing, thing I realized was that there were no Afghan people – civilians, resistance fighters or otherwise. It seemed absurd that none would be there, especially given their resistance is one of the few things the Soviet soldiers stationed here talked about. In fact, you’d be forgiven for thinking that the Soviet army has invaded Afghanistan just to wait for Big Boss to show up.
After observing the palace for a day, I continued north to reach the Wakh Sind barracks. While weaving through a small gorge, I come across a bear. Despite the threat posed by the creature, it is genuinely pleasant to see a living creature in the world. I’ve been looking at it longer than is probably reasonable given my mission. Luckily I wasn’t beaten to death.
When I arrived south of the barracks it was immediately clear that this is the best defended place I have come across. Nestled on a steep slope, the place can only be entered from the front and is heavily fortified with high barricades and several emplacements where sentries scan with searchlights. There were still only a dozen guards present, but the dense outpost makes those numbers count. With so little of the interior visible from the outside, I decided I had to find a way in if I wanted to gather useful information. But before I could get that far, a searchlight illuminated me for a split second. Enough time for a guard to be convinced he saw something and have someone come and have a look. I didn’t linger and quickly reached a fissure in the rock wall, which I climbed to get into the barracks.
Soldiers were speaking! An honest to god conversation! Something about Reagan and the futility of nuclear war. Still a sign of life in these vending machines. I crossed the gate to a perched dugout that seemed to be falling into disuse and set up for a day of observation.
At dusk, perhaps because I had spooked them the night before, they had sentries placed over the gate, which certainly made my exfiltration more difficult. I was halfway through the gate when someone thought they saw me. I pushed on, hugging the edge of the cliff, unable to do anything but hold my breath as the soldier approached, torch in one hand, scanning the bushes. He came to stand just a few feet away.
If I had a stun gun and no restrictions, this would be a moment of nothing and he would already be unconscious – but for my mission, this was pretty much dead. I thought this was it, I ruined everything. It was impossible that he would not see me. I even got ready to draw my gun. Then, impossibly, he didn’t see me and assumed he had imagined it. He turned and walked back to his post as if an enemy spy were within two steps of him. Relief!
Escape New Folk
Er… I was hesitant to add this to my report, but after my escape I found myself being plagued by flies – a sign that my smell from a week in the field had become quite strong. Unfortunately, due to a dive in the nearest river, I wasn’t good enough to get rid of them, so I was stuck listening to their buzz. Facing certain death or torture is one thing, but these flies, boss? Nothing in my training prepared me for them and their incessant noise. They are the greatest asset of the USSR, a weapon to surpass Metal Gear. Ahem, once Metal Gear is invented, I mean. What year is it?
The supply depot to the north is surprisingly light on defenses and vulnerable from the rear, where I positioned myself on a ridge overlooking the entire site. Not sure what supplies are kept here as trucks never seemed to stop on their way through. I watched for a day and as in every place before, nothing unexpected happens. The Soviet army is a well-oiled machine, its soldiers follow an endless, unchanging routine. It feels… inhumane.
I had become too comfortable and not so careful, like a fool!
I continued under darkness to the central base camp, believed to be the largest Soviet army presence in the region. What I found was skeletal: the bones of a huge base occupied by a handful of soldiers had stretched too thin to adequately defend it. From the outside it looked formidable, but I infiltrated it quite easily. Half of the hangars are in ruins. There were no tanks or armored vehicles of any kind. Again, I haven’t been able to find any officers.
I saw what looked like some sort of briefing among soldiers, but no one seemed to be in charge. Who runs this place? There is a sense that their troops are simply trapped in a futile effort, dwarfed by the vast landscape around them, in no way up to the task. They are little more than cannon fodder for Big Boss.
After a short call-up with a patrol, I got out of there and started the long march south, now afraid I wouldn’t be at the rendezvous on the 14th day. Fortunately, the remaining sites I had to visit were easy to observe and poorly defended. Things seemed to go smoothly until I stumbled into a minefield. I had become too comfortable and not so careful, like a fool! I accidentally detonated one of the explosives and injured my hand, but worst of all, I set the whole area on edge. I hope they thought it was a wild animal that caused it. None of the other outposts I passed afterwards seemed to be waiting for an attack. I think I got away with it…
When I went south again, I found a single soldier patrolling alone in the middle of nowhere. Usually the soldiers stayed at their designated posts, so this was way out of the norm. Why was he here? And why alone? I chased them for a while, adjusting my footsteps a few paces behind them, until I could finally get around them, undetected.
On the 11th day I came back to Spugmay Keep. Not expecting to be early, I took a short scouting walk to the town to the north, which was just as poorly defended and unobtrusive as the others. When the helicopter arrived at dawn, I climbed aboard without hesitation, but I began to feel a little wistful as the landscape rolled away from beneath me.
Not for my two weeks in this place, but for what I thought it might be when I first saw it years ago: a vibrant, complex beast full of life and the unexpected. Instead, it’s a lifeless rock populated by robots that pose as much of a threat to the boss as shrapnel in his face. He won’t have any problems here. Hell, I think he has to make his own fun to get any kind of challenge or tension out of the place. If you’ll excuse me, I really need that shower. Flaming buffalo, out.
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