I saw people who weren’t Afghans today, while we made our rounds. Not sure where they were from, spoke a language as hard on the ears as Dutch or Afrikaans, but looked Chinese. Fortunately, I look and act like a local. I’m feeling for these people too. We crossed into Iran and came back to Afghanistan. The situation is dire and the leader of the cell is a hunted man. God willing, I’ll make it to my next assignment, none the worse for wear. Any of me mates back in Blighty reading this, I’m alive and well. You’ll have to take my word for it though, as I don’t have a camera — we Afghans are a primitive lot. Instead of the Tube, we have two-dumped camels. Will try to write more later. Almost 43 C now.