Clear and present danger for NZ troops in Afghanistan

Members of the National Support Element load their weapons before leaving Bagram Air Field for the drive to Kabul.

On the road from Kabul airport to to Bagram Air Field, four Taleban cruise the dusty highway in an explosives-laden car. We must have passed them, the New Zealand support group and I. They were delivering me to the massive United States base for a flight into the Hindu Kush mountain range.

A report I saw later said the roving car bombers were looking for a target on the same road we took during the 90-minute drive.

These are the risks of Afghanistan.

"Will you call us peacekeepers?" asks one Kiwi later. "It's been a long time since I've seen the Army referred to as soldiers." But there's little peace to keep near Kabul, and the Kiwis are strictly soldiers.

My introduction to Afghanistan was body armour and a helmet, followed by a quick lesson on how to use a gas mask in case the soldiers guarding me needed to use riot gas. I'm given a field dressing to put in my pocket "just in case".

Pointing to the roof-mounted machine-guns, atop the armoured Humvees the Kiwis are driving, Lieutenant Colonel Mark Blythen says: "There is a 7.62 [mm] in front and a 7.62 [mm] behind, ready to rain badness down on anyone who tries to stop us." Each soldier carries a pistol and a Steyr automatic rifle. Grenades sit in canisters at the front.

Then, the four-and-a-half ton vehicles, on loan from the United States but painted with black Kiwis on the side, hit the road. And don't stop until we reach safety.

This is New Zealand's eighth tour of duty in Afghanistan as a Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT). The scheme is aimed at trying to rebuild the devastated Bamyan province, about 180km from Kabul - an eight hour-drive on rugged roads.

Most of the New Zealanders are based high in the Hindu Kush mountains, the awesome range which cuts Afghanistan in half. But 11 spend their six-month tour outside Kabul, at the Soviet-built, American-occupied Bagram Airfield.

That small band can feel like the poor cousins. The PRT have regular contact with the Afghans but the closest the support team get is working their way through the crowd of children at the gate of Bagram. "They get to hug the kids up there," says one.

Colonel Blythen: "We don't interact with them other than driving through Kabul. We're not in Bamyan. We have a significantly higher threat and we deal with it in a different way."

The National Support Element provides logistics, arranging food, ammunition, fuel and flights from the base in the hills, and supporting the few NZDF staff working in Kabul.

"That's the life of a logistician," says Blythen. "It's not the sexy side of soldiering."

But it is also the most dangerous side, particularly the weekly or more trips into Kabul.

Military are considered "high-value" targets by the insurgent remnants of the Taleban. The New Zealanders have had close calls. About a month ago they were waiting to shepherd a supply truck when a bomb went off. "This fried-up Afghani came running around the corner with his skin falling off him," says Humvee turret gunner Private William Thomsen, 22, from Auckland's North Shore. "Then a guy blew himself up at the gate just a couple of days later."

The risk is high and real.

Lance Corporal Bryce Wright, 22, is driving the Humvee. He signed up as an infantryman at age 18, "just a couple of months out of school" and coming here "is an opportunity to test yourself. And you're doing good, even if it is just getting stuff."

"We don't so much see the good stories. . You've just got to deal with it. This is our job down here."

Wright grew up watching the Army carry out exercises near his rural Hawkes Bay home. "When I was young I decided that's what I wanted to do." The Army lands responsibility on its young soldiers early; he's now a LAV III commander, in charge of a driver, gunner and the seven guys who ride in the back. He found out in November he was heading here, "I was stoked. This is what we do it for."

Trips to and from Kabul are tense. "When you hit Kabul, you're definitely on edge. You do your prep so if it does happen you're ready for it. There's not a sense it won't happen to us, because it could."

Leaving the airport, the convoy muscles through traffic. The principle is that a moving target is a harder target, and there is no stopping. At first glance, Afghanistan appears like any Third World country, but look closer and you see the pockmarks of bullets marching across walls.

Captain Sam McQuillan, second in command and co-ordinator of "missions" to Kabul, points out the "star" left by a rocket propelled grenade.

As I arrive in Kabul the head of Nato is visiting and there's a line of heavily armoured Landcruisers.

"Is that what we've got?" I ask Colonel Blythen. "Nope. We've got Barry Crump's Hilux. And he didn't have half of Afghanistan shooting at him."

Momentum in convoy is important, and so is staying close. One Humvee takes the lead and there's another at the rear. Going through a roundabout, the vehicles move to block incoming traffic and to stop any other vehicle from getting into the convoy.

"You have to be careful," says one of the team. "You don't want an upset driver today becoming an insurgent tomorrow."

This is a stretch of road that has become extremely dangerous.

The intelligence report tells of an Afghan killed about 8am that day from a homemade bomb, and of the four men and their explosive-laden vehicle looking for targets. Four coalition soldiers were killed last month when a bomb tore apart their Humvee. A photograph shows the vehicle peeled back like an orange. The Kiwi soldiers use the term "pink mist" - all that is left of a human body in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The heat is stifling, and the body armour uncomfortable. Later Blythen says: "Today we know it's hotter than 55C because that's as high as our thermometer goes." The convoy turns to roll through a small town outside Bagram Airfield, the intersection later identified as the site where the four troops were recently killed. A US marine searches under the vehicles for bombs while the Kiwi soldiers clear their weapons. Then we're into Bagram, home to 12,000 Americans and 11 Kiwis.

The main road, Disney Way, seems a bizarre importation of American culture but it is named for US Army Specialist Jason Disney, killed when heavy equipment fell on him at Bagram.

Further on we pass Camp Vance, named for Sergeant Gene Vance, killed in 2002 while fighting the Taleban and al Qaeda. The current coalition death toll is 407.

Everywhere on base, soldiers are armed. One in the dinner area carried a large M60 machinegun to his table. There are racks next to diners for M16 automatic rifles.

The bizarre becomes surreal at the PX, a shopping area about 10 minutes' walk from the Kiwis. It's referred to as "the mall", and holds home comforts for the Americans, most of whom don't leave Bagram.

It has a beauty and spa salon, offering massages and haircuts. A facial costs US$7 ($11), while a full leg, arm, chest and back treatment will set a soldier back US$38.75.

There's Burger King, just across from the Green Beans Cafe, which carries commendations from US military units for its contribution for "the success of our combat mission".

In a jewellery shop, three young American men ponder the silver, rifles slung over their shoulders.

Inside the supermarket, a Hawaiian-style shirt sports Apache gunships instead of palm trees. A magazine rack offers Handguns, Guns & Ammo, Guns of the Old West and Military History.

A soldier jokes that they should have been prepared for culture shock in dealing with Americans, rather than Afghans.

Private Thomsen says, "Most of the Americans in Bagram spend a year here without going outside the wire. Our guys go out once, sometimes twice a week."

The day dawns early for the National Support Unit. An early flight of ammunition and other supplies has to leave for Bamyan about 4.30am.

The morning is still and cool. Just after 5am the sun rises and paints the hillside with gentle, soft light. It's a watercolour, framed by razor wire.

New Zealand's role in Afghanistan

* New Zealand has been taking part in military operations in Afghanistan since December 2001. Since September 2003 a provincial reconstruction team (PRT) has been deployed in Bamyan Province.

* Personnel serve for six months. This team is the eighth, having been sent in April.

* The New Zealand commitment was meant to finish next month but has been extended until September next year.

* A total of 122 New Zealand men and women are in Afghanistan, most in Bamyan, but 11 in support are based at Bagram, near Kabul. New Zealand police officers train local police and small numbers of personnel work with the Afghan National Army, with the International Security Assistance Force headquarters and with the Coalition joint taskforce.

* Up to April this year, New Zealand had spent $130 million on peacekeeping and development. The decision to extend the deployment will cost $27.08 million for the PRT and $3.91 million for Afghan Army training and other costs.

* Afghanistan is awash with weaponry and for years during the 1980s was the world's fifth-largest importer of arms.

* The focus of the PRT is developing sustainable rural livelihoods and helping to provide health and educational systems.

* One of the PRT's more unusual tasks was the destruction of 1.746 tonnes of opium resin, which took 12 hours to burn.