The third instalment of a column by Michel Rentenaar, civilian leader of the Task Force Uruzgan and director of the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Uruzgan.

After a week of visits to here there and everywhere, last week, I finally arrived at the place that I will call home for the coming six months. The dry heat robbed me of breath as I gazed upon an immense vista of sand and dust.

I wasn't even allowed to unpack my bags before the handover/takeover or HOTO started. My attempt to get all the information was doomed before it even started. I very quickly understood that I was being thrown in at the deep end and would have to sink or swim. As I ran from meeting to briefing, I felt as though I was meeting old friends as I bumped into members of the armed forces that I had met during postings to Iraq.

Warm cola and wet prefabs
The first three days sped by like a bullet train. Until late into the night, sitting at a dusty green army table drinking warm cola, I and my fellow newcomers attempted to catch our breath and process the wealth of information and impressions that had been assaulting us all day.

On my first morning, I was surprised to see just how many men had stopped shaving. In Afghanistan, a beard is proof of masculinity and commands respect. It might also be due to the fact that the camp is overcrowded; the outgoing team is still briefing the incoming team and a long queue for the showers - known here as wet prefabs - has already formed at six o'clock in the morning.

Exercise
Immediately after breakfast, the HOTO process got under way at a fast clip; briefings on security sector reform, the upcoming election, reconstruction efforts, battle group plans, tribal relations and the Australian Mentoring and Reconstruction Task Force followed one another at a dizzying pace. We also looked at plans for the future, toured the outer perimeter of the camp and visited a police training centre.

On the third morning, I'd settled into my rhythm and got enough sleep to get up at 5:30 and exercise. It did cut into my sleep hours but I faced the day in a fitter frame of mind and body. My working day begins at 0730 with a daily update for the director of the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT), followed by an eight o'clock briefing for the general and the civil representative (CIVREP). As I am both the director of the PRT and CIVREP for the task force, I attend both meetings.

47 in the shade
The official Transfer of Authority was on Monday 3 August. After months of training, General van Uhm and I took command of the Task Force Uruzgan and the Provincial Reconstruction Team. I tossed and turned more than usual on the night before the ToA.

It was 47 degrees in the shade - not that there was any - and the entire staff stood at attention on the burning sand as helicopters thundered overhead. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a number of people faint due to the heat and the first thought that came into my mind was, this cannot be allowed to happen to me when photographers or cameras are present.

One minute’s silence
A quick reaction force with numerous impressive-looking military vehicles surrounded us and there were speeches by the Governor and the generals. A minute of silence for Private Azdin Chadli, killed in a rocket attack on the camp during the last troop rotation, made a deep impression on everyone there. All the speakers said they hoped the new team would continue the work already underway. At the end of his speech, my predecessor Joep Wijnands handed a large bunch of wooden keys, symbol of the PRT. In my address, I thanked him and said I hoped he'd given me the keys to success and development.

After the ceremony was over, many congratulated me and welcomed me in military jargon: "Hey Rent, you are now from it." (which means you’re in charge now).