Men, alone. Or in groups, but still alone. Facing away from each other – or, not so much away from each other as just facing different ways. Absorbed in their reading: numbers and words that are helping them make sense of what is happening in the surrounding environment. It is beautiful, by the way, the surrounding environment. It looks clean like concrete on a bright day looks clean. Very empty though. Space for everyone to stand or squat or sit on coloured plastic chairs looking at their newspapers that aren't really newspapers. When I say the surrounding environment, I mean a racetrack - a velodrome. I'm not trying to pretend it isn't a racetrack by describing the photographs as if it isn't obvious where they were taken. But I just want to recognise the strangeness of the photographs - as images, as situations - before we get any further. That's my first impression from looking at the photographs; of an out-of-time strangeness. But then maybe all photographs have that quality. Time removed from itself. The men in the pictures emanate this quality too, they are in-between one moment and another. They are frozen by the camera, caught considering their...

Tim Bowditch is a photographer. His brother, Matt Bowditch, is a bandsman in the Royal Marines. For his band duties, Matt is based in Exmouth, but in April 2011 he began a three month tour of Afghanistan. His main role for those three months was driving a Mastiff Ambulance providing medical support on Combat Logistic Patrols – regular convoys that provide supplies to troops all over Helmand Province. He was based at Camp Bastion, and in between driving as part of the convoys, he worked in the camps’ ambulance crews, and in other roles around Bastion. When Matt announced that he was going to Afghanistan, Tim decided that he wanted to collaborate with his brother on a photographic project. For Christmas 2010, Tim gave Matt a Fuji Instant camera, and enough film to last him for his three month tour. Tim asked Matt to take pictures of anything he liked, the only request was for 'quiet photos'. The three months of Matt's tour were marked by three packages of photos sent back to Tim in England. These packages are known as 'Blueys', taking their name from the blue paper which is used for letters to family and friends. Tim...

(In January 2012 I spend a night with Tim and Nick whilst they take some of these photos. In the summer, I go out with them again to record some sound for an installed version of the Hind Land project to be exhibited in Portugal.) Tim, Nick and I are walking down a dark, overgrown path towards an underpass beneath the M25. Nick has a torch and he points it ahead of us, lighting the way. He stops for second and says “I think I just saw someone”. We all flinch with fear, but it's probably just kids messing about on the private land under the road. The motorway bridge is huge, passing over a river and a train line that we can hear but not see. We drink cans of beer and talk in whispers whilst I record the different sounds of the road. We forget about the person Nick saw on the way down here. We don't see any other movement until we finish the recordings, walk back up the path to our parked car, when suddenly two huge Alsatian dogs run out of a house and bark at us until we drive away. -- All around...