Police Raid on Cocaine Lab
- 23 Nov 07, 01:20 PM
Posted from: Palma Pampa
Today we have gained access to film the flip side of the cocaine story in Peru, the fight against the trade in cocaine by the police and army forces, who are in turn supported with US funding.
We arrive at the police base in the small town of Palma Pampa, which is in the centre of the Apurimac Valley, the very dangerous cocaine-growing region of Peru. All around are fields growing coca leaves so it’s easy to see that the fight is a token one and any actions will hardly touch the surface of this industry. The police base itself is heavily fortified by high walls, razor wire, lookout towers and armed patrols. Inside is a heavily armed force of about 60 young men, mostly in their late teens and early twenties. They are backed up by three Huey helicopters supplied by the US government complete with onboard heavy duty machine guns. Louis, our fixer, has worked wonders to gain us this great access here. On arrival we are met warmly by the commandant who could not be nicer and looks like a Peruvian Christopher Biggins in combats.
We have requested the chance to film with the troops on a helicopter raid of a cocaine paste lab but after an hour or so of sweating it out in the sun, news comes back that the US embassy has denied us permission to travel onboard their helicopters. The Commandant is undeterred and promises us that he will do his best to help out as we will be showing honestly their forces’ side of this fight against the cocaine industry.
The military police
In the meantime we are invited to join him as he briefs his troops on the specifics of today’s mission. It’s all very moody as the armed combat troops enter the briefing room, many silhouetted against the windows, automatic guns in hand. As I start filming, a US Special Forces man who is there quickly ducks from the shot and sits to the side behind a plant pot. The young troops listen carefully to the plan and take down GPS co-ordinates. Once dismissed the troops make last preparations to their weapons, they are a great bunch of young guys and there seems to be a lot of humour and banter between them. Some even video themselves and laugh to a small camcorder.
What is not told is the fact that this is the posting they all dread as the Apurimac Valley is the most dangerous posting to have and troops are regularly shot at and sometimes killed. Most are carrying automatic rifles but one stands out, silhouetted in a doorway, as he looks like Rambo. Across his chest are two huge wraps of machine gun bullets and in the heat he holds the most ridiculously large machine gun. I shoot some nice shots of him, shades on, looking tough and some of the other recruits laugh and joke with him. As a force they seemed to be slightly un-disciplined but this seemed to be made up by a great camaraderie.
We film the troops exiting the base and splitting into two units. As two of the helicopters land in front of the base the first group jump on board and quickly take off, disappearing low over the trees. After 20 minutes of waiting the commandant is radioed back from them an exact GPS location and the second group of heavily armed police board the open backs of three four wheel drive vehicles. With the commandant in the front, Zubin and I ride in the back seats and Bruce hangs on in the open back with a small DV camera to film shots of himself among the troops on the drive out. Wearing ski goggles because of the dust our officer from earlier rests his huge machine gun on the cab’s roof and looks down the barrel, finger on the trigger.
Because Bruce is wearing a radio microphone we are able to record his chat to the small DV camera on the large HD camera with Zubin monitoring and mixing the sound from inside of the cab. As we speed along the bumpy tracks I take shots of the small villages and coca fields whizzing past. Our convoy slows down on some particularly bumpy sections and the locals stare at us with disgust. By being with the narco police we are now an open target ourselves so it is reassuring that the mission is going in so heavily armed. Also watching out and tracking our every move from above are the two helicopter gunships, making circular passes of the area and searching for any potential ambushes from the also heavily armed drugs cartels.
After about 40 minutes we reach a river and, with the helicopter gunships still circling overhead, all of the troops quickly jump out and take up perimeter of staggered positions, in the long grass and on the river bank. Not quite sure if this development is partly a PR stunt for the camera I follow in among the troops, filming some fantastic hand-held shots of them staking positions with their guns at the ready, ending on a close-up shot of a young lad aiming his machine gun back down the road. Luis tells me later that this was all very real, as they have been ambushed at this crossing point in the past. As the troops wait anxiously, sweating in the hot sun, there is the surreal scene of a local villager standing in a stream in just his underpants and all soaped up. He ignores the developing drama around him.
Eventually and with the helicopter gunship still buzzing overhead it becomes more surreal when two narrow canoe boats held together by just two planks of wood pull up to the riverbank. Two more planks of wood are placed between this and the riverbank and the first vehicle carefully drives down the bank and over the plank’s ending with the front two wheels on one of the boats and the rear wheels on the other. The soldiers then jump on to even smaller canoes and both police and vehicle precariously head across the fast flowing river and disembark on the other side. This sight happens several times until we are all across. On the other side is a small ramshackle of buildings and from watching too many movies I’d say this was the prefect place for an ambush. The troops seem to agree and several nervously jump into the grass and secure the area. They wait until we are all back in the vehicles before climbing on board themselves.
After 20 minutes driving and taking in more hostile looks as we pass through some more small villages the commandant is happy with our GPS position and we pull into the side of the dusty track. We take to travelling on foot and film with hand held camera among the troops as they traverse down a steep bank and into the lush steamy jungle. Carrying our heavy HD kit Zubin and I do pretty well keeping up with Bruce and the troops as they push through the very dense terrain until Zubin, not being able to see his feet because of the sound mixer, gets tangled and trips down a slope. As Zubin and I are radio linked and not connected with a sound cable I push forward with Bruce knowing that Steve and some more troops will quickly catch up with Zubin. I film some nice shots of Bruce describing the mission and what they are looking for and while doing so he jumps down a four foot drop. I try to do the same while filming and for some reason land with one leg bent, the other straight and feel something pop with a sharp pain in my hip. Luckily we are just about there so I take a rest and try to stretch it out lying among the ants on the floor. Zubin, also bruised, catches up and we take some shots of the troops discovering the cocaine paste lab.
It’s not much to see, just a paddling pool sized pit with some drain pipes leading into it from a nearby small steam and some discarded plastic sheeting. Also visible are large piles of pulped coca leaves. Each of these pits is used only several times before the paste makers move on to make another and hence this whole mission of the troops destroying the leftovers does seem to be rather in vain. The troops gather the plastic piping and sheeting into a pile and try to set light to it. Because it’s still damp from the remaining water in the pit the plastic merely smokes slightly so a can of fuel is sent for. The plastic begins to burn but the troops want a bigger fire so send for a larger can as they have the bright idea that they will pour more fuel straight onto the already burning flame.
Suddenly there is a huge whoosh, a massive fireball bursts into the air, the volunteer holding the can falls backwards into the undergrowth and, being next closest, I feel a sweltering warmth from the flame. The plastic lens shade on the front of the camera feels unwisely hot and I check that my eyebrows are still there. The commandant happier with the size of the fireworks and calls the mission a success. On the way out he shows us some of the pollution left by the cocaine paste makers but one cannot help think that this is not the best way to take the problem on.
When we get back to the vehicles the troops set up a temporary road block and, with machine guns pointing at the passengers, stopped vehicles in search for cocaine paste, coca leaves or guns. Luckily nothing was found as it would have been lively if they had stopped a group of heavily armed drug traffickers. Instead the nervous families are told to pass on and in turn learn to hate the police just a little more. We film some more searches and with this as a background Bruce sums up the day.
On the way back I catch the eye of Rambo in the open back of the vehicle, machine gun still resting on the cab’s roof and he lets me jump up with the camera next to him. As we speed back along the dusty tracks, in between the bumps I manage to grab some fantastic shots of him and the other armed troops but am not sure if this was the wisest thing to do as they all seem nervous passengers - standing up here in the open we are all pretty much open targets for a sniper. There is no chance of stopping in these hostile areas so I also quickly appreciate Rambo’s choice of ski goggles because as we speed along I eat dust and flies for the next hour. We later all arrive safely back at the police base and say a fond farewell to our enthusiastic and gracious hosts.
Comments