Arrival of soldiers a sign of Afghan peace

Vernon Small reports from New Zealand's forward base at Do Abe during a three-day armoured patrol in the tensest region of Bamiyan province. He returned to base to learn that a fellow Kiwi had died in a firefight while saving staff from the British Council in Kabul.

The locals in Bamiyan province say this is the first time they have had peace for 200 years. It speaks volumes when four New Zealand Defence Force light armoured vehicles rolling though your village and a foot patrol in your main street bazaar in full combat gear is your idea of peace.

They might have added a few centuries to those 200 years, given the violent history of the area astride the old Silk Route.

The wisdom is that the more Mongolian features of the local Hazarans are a legacy of Genghis Khan's bloody passage; centuries-old forts dot honeycombed sandstone hills like disused human termite nests.

Each has a chilling reminder of the more recent 1979-89 invasions by the Russians; stones painted white to show the safe route and red where the mine fields have not been cleared.

One, the Infidel Fort, overlooks the New Zealand forward base at the frontier coal town of Do Abe, one of the most important strategic links in the north-east.

A large Pashtun population (the most sympathetic to the insurgent Taleban and the long-time enemy of the Hazarans) makes it one of the tensest towns under the Kiwis' watch.

Since a Taleban attack on the base from the high ground in 2009 lookouts manned by Afghan police have been set up around the summits of steep, barren mountains that ring the area to protect the base, the town and the growing Chinese interests in the coalmines.

The New Zealand forward base itself is, well, basic. The only hot water is solar-powered, a pipe into a pile of rocks is the urinal, excrement is periodically burned, bats roost above the door, and meal times are filled by US army rations; meals like Sloppy Joes (probably baked beans and mince) that heat up when you add water.

The camp dog Sausage –a low slung multi-cross – does not go short but would a generator and a fridge be too much to ask for a Kiwi army base in the 21st century?

With the main street spitting distance away on one side and a weigh station for coal trucks on the other, to the non-military mind the location looks less than ideal. But it has one advantage drawn from the counter-insurgency manual; it is close to the people.

The opposite applies to the larger New Zealand forward base at Romero (where for our visit breakfast is French toast with maple syrup courtesy of able chef Jaxon Pritchard). Romero is in a sparsely populated mountain-ringed valley with an entrance so narrow and steep it looks like a machete blow.

IT CAN be only a matter of time before the Defence forces shift their main presence to the increasingly wealthy Do Abe, where they are also looking for a new compound.

Take away the cars and the satellite dishes and Do Abe's bazaar looks like Europe in the middle ages; grimy faces from the coalmining, a pot-holed dusty street, sack-covered roadside stalls and a wagon loaded with huge watermelons.

The two-storey secret police headquarters sports a very modern crater from a rocket-propelled grenade.

Heading out to the bazaar for a foot patrol, troops that were five minutes before joking and pumping iron on the veranda at the base are reminded of their formations and the rules of engagement: when they should shoot to kill.

A group of boys follow the Kiwis down the road, but in contrast to the warmth greeting foreigners in Bamiyan city, the adult faces here (all men) are set somewhere between indifference and hostility.

A couple of men spit on the ground as we pass, and unlike other villages around Bamiyan province there are no return waves or smiles.

As an apparent "VIP" with an armed escort and a camera team, it draws mixed feelings. Are you safer or just drawing huge attention to yourself?

On balance safer, because the troops ooze confidence and competence. But they seem more on edge here than on other patrols.

In the roads near here Lieutenant Timothy O'Donnell was killed last August in an attack on his armoured Humvee by an improvised explosive device (IED), the insurgents' weapon of choice that accounts for 80 per cent of the combat casualties in Afghanistan.

Just across the border is Baghlan province, a hotbed of insurgent activity that is nominally monitored by Hungarian forces, but where actual patrolling is scarce. It is one of the frustrations for the Kiwi troops, made worse by coalition ISAF rules that prevent raids and pursuit across the borders and which slow down any air support.

The patrol ends when a visit to the local headmaster draws a blank. A child's voice from behind the compound door says he is away in another village.

On the return journey we stop to buy huge watermelons at $2.50 a pop from one of the spitters. The price is fair but still no smile.

Our visit coincides with Ramadan, so perhaps the melon-seller was irritable at the end of a long day of fasting.

The soldiers say that at other times the mood can be vastly different and even friendly.

But the air of low-level hostility in Do Abe this past week, and the increased frequency of attacks on troops in the area, dispels the myth that the whole of Bamiyan is a peaceful haven where Kiwis are welcomed with open arms by grateful locals.

- © Fairfax NZ News