Gisborne-born Terence White drifted into photo-journalism when he was in his twenties, while on a trip to Cambodia during the Vietnam War - which by then had spilled into the Southeast Asian country.
White hitched a trip to the front line where he found himself in the middle of a furious gunbattle, proceeded to shoot some photos and was hooked.
"Let's say it was unorthodox," he said while describing the entry into his career.
White eventually found himself in Afghanistan where he photographed daily battles between the Government and religious militia, the rise and fall of the Taleban and the introduction of democracy to the country.
However, his five-year stay in the country was rudely punctuated by a mortar bomb explosion during a battle between Government troops and Taleban militants in 1995.
Shrapnel nearly tore the photo-journalist apart and doctors in an Afghan military hospital almost gave him up for dead.
But three major lifesaving operations later, and after a well-needed rest back in Gisborne, White returned to the land he had come to love.
He has recorded the details of his injury and recuperation in a recently published book, Hot Steel - named for the shrapnel that will be lodged in his body forever.
A French psychiatrist advised White to talk about the incident as much as he could in an effort to avoid any later mental trauma.
"I don't feel traumatised, I don't think I'll ever have a traumatic experience but I was glad to get it down on paper," he said.
"I'm not sure it is a catharsis but I do want to leave a record and it's important for me now that I'm a married with kids to leave some sort of legacy behind for them."
Being blown up was a "unique experience" in the sense that he should have been killed in the incident.
"I should have died but I didn't, I survived. It's hard to put into words. It wasn't a life/death experience - I didn't see the light at the end of the tunnel."
The experience also gave White "a sense of proportion".
"I've seen the worst and nothing can touch me. There may be a downside to that but, most of the time, it's an advantage."
The incident, in a way, cemented White's attachment to Afghanistan.
"For one very good reason, I've got Afghan blood coursing through my veins. I had blood transfusions and, as the doctors told me, 'You're an honorary Afghan now'."
White's time in Afghanistan ended abruptly in 1997 as his contract with news agency Agence France-Presse finished and the Taleban expelled him.
After the fall of the Taleban, White returned to the country and re-acquainted himself with the doctors who had helped to save his life years earlier.
White said that for all the years he had worked at the front line of war zones in Asia and Afghanistan it was always in the back of his mind that he could leave whenever he wanted.
"I like to remind people who may get the wrong impression about the thrill of the front line - it's not thrilling for the soldiers, or the civilians either, like it is for me. They're stuck there all the time.
"And I was going to the front line on a daily basis but, at the end of my day, I knew I could get back to my house and have a hot shower. I could kick back, get the fire going and have a drink or a smoke and relax. But they couldn't."
Although being a photo-journalist was White's choice for a job, practising it did not sit well with his mother.
"Being in war zones, my dad would take this blokish attitude 'He can look after himself, he's a big bloke'.
"But mum took it to heart and she was always concerned about my safety and well being and, when I finally did come to the edge as it were, she just about went over the brink."
After his body had healed and White was itching to get back to Afghanistan, his mother was appalled.
"But she didn't interfere, she knew that was the thing I had to do - or the thing I wanted to do most."
But now White has children himself, he said he would like to think he would not put himself in that kind of danger again.
And as a parent, he would prefer it if neither of his children followed in his footsteps - although he would never stand in their way.
"I would have to support their own free will. That's the principle I live by."
Now living in Paris with his French wife and children, White is keen on them having stability in their lives.
"We're trying to give the kids a normal upbringing. She [White's photographer wife] didn't race off to Lebanon, I didn't race off to Iraq, but who knows what the future will bring."
One thing is definite though, White will definitely make it back to Afghanistan.
"I look forward to going to Afghanistan in times of peace. Take the kids up to the mountains, get some horsemen and camp up there.
"The serenity of those mountains is so overwhelming that up there I always felt I could reach up and touch the face of God."
White would love to bring his family back to New Zealand to live. "Now I see the true meaning of God's own. It's obvious to me because I've lived in the armpit of the world."
He recommended people visit Afghanistan to get a true understanding of the country - they would experience a place that was something how life would have been in the Middle Ages.
In other words, a place "trapped in time".NZPA
* Hot Steel has been published by Penguin Books NZ.
'Honorary Afghan' steps back from front-line danger
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