An Iqaluit policeman teaches Kandahar lawmen how to detain suspects without 'shooting; them

Henry Coman turns amateurs into cops

By JOHN THOMPSON

Henry Coman, 36, is glad to sleep once again in his own bed in Iqaluit, away from the siren wails and the rumbles of rocket-propelled grenades exploding in Afghanistan.

Coman, a constable with the Iqaluit RCMP detachment, spent seven months this year in Kandahar to help train the local police force.

It's a big job. Corruption is rife. Police are only paid $70 a month, and may not receive their salary for several months, so bribery is a big problem.

Some officers don't even have uniforms. They wear soccer jerseys or loose cotton shirts, and carry AK-47s or rocket launchers in their hands while standing at roadblocks around the city.

Just as many Inuit grew up shooting seals and caribou, many Afghan policemen grew up shooting Russians, and now Taliban. They know how to fight, but may not know more basic policing tasks, such as how to detain a man without shooting him.

Coman showed them how to use handcuffs. He also showed how to properly search vehicles for guns, bombs and drugs – there's a lot of all these in Kandahar. And Coman taught police how to perform basic first aid.

Kandahar is hot. Temperatures reach 60 C. Coman would drink three litres of water during a typical day. He'd drink more at night, when temperatures would drop to 30 C.

He lived with about 300 other soldiers in a compound located 45 minutes from the Kandahar airstrip, where the U.S. military is based. The airstrip has a population of 26,000 – nearly as many people as those scattered across Nunavut.

Kandahar is a vast, sprawling city, home to 450,000 people. Most buildings are built from mud, so they only stand one or two stories high.

The place is dusty – even dustier than Iqaluit during the summer. Coman's laptop is still coated with the stuff.

Nunavut may have lots of problems, but you don't worry of roadside bombs exploding in Kimmirut or Whale Cove. In Afghanistan, this is commonplace.

Electrical blackouts are common. There's not much food.

"It just makes me really appreciate how well we have it," Coman says.

Cops probably aren't popular anywhere. In Nunavut, drunks often complain they're handled roughly by police. It could be worse.

If Afghanistan, people arrested and handed over to U.S. soldiers have reportedly been stripped naked, hooded, deprived of sleep, sexually humiliated and terribly beaten.

Some Canadians complain they don't understand what our soldiers are doing in faraway Afghanistan. It's simple, Coman says. They're helping rebuild a war-ravaged country, so its people can one day enjoy the same luxuries we take for granted, such as going to work or school without fear of being shot or blown up.

"They got a lot of work ahead of them," Coman says. But he points out the good work being done by Canadians: "Bridges are being built. Wells are being dug. Schools are being rebuilt. Roads are being repaired."

Many Afghans are just trying to get on with life, and wait for the day-to-day fighting against the Taliban to end. Those whom Coman spoke with said they're grateful for the help from Canada. "They really do appreciate that," he said.

On several evenings, late at night, Coman would wake up to the sound of Taliban attacking the compound. A bomb would explode. Machine guns would fire. Sirens would wail. He's retreat to a concrete bunker, and when it was all over, he'd go back to sleep.

Coman admits he's been lucky. More than 50 Canadian soldiers have died in Afghanistan. So far, the closest to armed-conflict he's been in was a minor fender-bender, when the armored vehicle he sat inside bumped with another vehicle while on patrol.

After his one-year tour of duty is complete in March, he'd like to return to Iqaluit and keep working as a cop, or maybe put his law degree to use in the RCMP headquarters.

Coman returned to Iqaluit Oct. 22. He leaves for Afghanistan again Nov. 11

Until then, he will enjoy sleeping in his own bed, spending time with his wife and his two daughters, who are nine and 11, and not having to worry of donning a helmet and bulletproof vest before he leaves the house.

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