NZDF

Kiwis in Afghanistan - Three years on

05 September 2006
By Judith Martin

On a mountainous Afghan road little better than a goat track, a young Kiwi soldier adjusts his body armour, wipes dust from his face, and counts the hours till he will leave the boulder strewn road and reach his destination.

For Private Todd Young,  a soldier who has just celebrated his 21st birthday in the grime and heat of Afghanistan, patrolling is everything. “We get out, just 11 of us, and we’re gone for three weeks. The locals in our area know us now and we’re getting to know them quite well. It’s our area and we pretty much know what’s going on. I look forward to getting out there, sitting with the boss while he talks to the local governors, and hearing what’s going on.”

This is Bamyan, the sprawling highland province of Afghanistan where the New Zealand Defence Force’s Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) is based.

The PRT’s mission is to enhance the security environment in the formerly war-torn province, and promote reconstruction effort in the province’s myriad of small towns and villages. At the same time it is monitoring and assessing military, civil and political reforms by establishing relationships and links throughout the wider community.

All this is to encourage Afghanistan back on its feet after decades of oppression, and to prevent the re-emergence of trans-national terrorist groups.

It is nearly three years since the New Zealand PRTs first arrived in Bamyan under the auspices of the international relief effort-  Operation Enduring Freedom.

Is it achieving what it set out to?

In the starkness of the Bamyan countryside, dotted with mud huts, scrawny donkeys and barefoot children, it’s difficult to imagine how it may have been before the Taliban began wreaking havoc in the 1990s.

The 120-strong NZ PRT was one of the first established in Afghanistan. There are now 24 throughout the country, and the Kiwi operation has been used as a role model for other teams, with observers regularly dropping by to see how things are done.

Since the PRT’s arrival the people of Bamyan have for the first time in their history voted for a president and parliamentary representatives.

Ask any English-speaking local what’s changed, and they’re enthusiastic.

“The children can go to school now, we have water, and we can get help if we really need it –the clinics if we get sick, that sort of thing. The best thing though is we are no longer frightened,” says Masaud, a businessman at the local bazaar.

Standing behind his sacks of spices, cans of soft drink and baskets of sandals, he talks about how he hopes the road through the bazaar may some day be sealed – it is full of huge potholes and turns into a swamp in winter.  “Sometimes things have to happen slowly but that is alright. Most of the time we have what matters.”

Providing “what matters” is proving something of a mission for the PRT’s planning officer, Air Force engineer Squadron Leader Shane Meighan.

He scratches his head and wonders aloud if everything that needs to be done will be finished in the short construction season – 20 weeks – available in Bamyan. Beyond that snow is falling, concrete won’t set, and local workers can’t get to their sites. The bigger jobs undertaken by the PRT – the rebuilding of the local university, a new college for local children, five new police stations, the rebuilding village schools are among projects on the list – are undertaken by locals, funded mainly by the New Zealand Agency for International Development (NZAID), and supervised by the PRT.

In Afghanistan, a different attitude can prevail towards time keeping. It can be frustrating, says Squadron Leader Meighan. “But we’re getting there. We just have to adjust and do the best we can.”

It is up to him and his team of three Army engineers to ensure standards are met, and projects carried out efficiently.

“We have a regular inspection cycle, and the contractors have milestones they must meet before they are paid. If the work isn’t done to our standards it has to be done again. I want the PRT to walk away from this place knowing that any building we were responsible for will stand up, is safe, and will last.”

In the two months the latest PRT has been in Bamyan there have been 127 “gate requests” – pleas for help with projects from people who turn up at the base gate. Each has been considered, and while many are not feasible due to their size or availability of funding, most are referred to the local government council which decides their priority.

Meighan: “We’re trying to build capacity, to get the local council to support itself, and take care of its own planning and decision making. We’re here to help them develop the skills to be self-governing. Ultimately we should do ourselves out of a job here I hope. That’s our aim.”

Just five kilometres away from the Kiwi base, the contingent’s padre, Chaplain Kirstie MacDonald, nursing officer Captain Kathy McCrory and  Sergeant Kath Spence are visiting one of their own unofficial projects, the local orphanage.

The modern building is unadorned, built in what seems to be the middle of nowhere, and has neither trees, nor grass, just uneven clay surrounding it..  About 20 children, some toddlers, all of them bright-eyed and confident, spill from the stark building and run towards the women. Visibly delighted at seeing Chaplain MacDonald, Mahmud, 9, throws his arms around her waist and slips his hand into hers as he leads her inside.

The padre, it seems, has a plan. On her last visit she noticed Mahmud and other children playing soccer in the makeshift yard, stubbing their toes on the rocks and metal.

“Their footwear just isn’t adequate. I talked about it back at camp and we decided we could raise enough money among ourselves to buy each of the 25 kids a pair of shoes down at the bazaar. I think we have most of the money already. All we need to do now is enlist several soldiers into helping us get the kids to the bazaar, fit them, and get them home again. Easy.”

The women, and others from the PRT have “adopted” the privately run orphanage and visit regularly, talking and playing with the children.

“It seems well run, and the children are doing well with their studies. You just wish you could give them what our New Zealand children have,” says Chaplain MacDonald. “They’re better off than many Afghan kids though.”

Back at the Kiwi base, a five-vehicle convoy is practising counter vehicle ambush drills in preparation for another patrol under the watchful eye of Sergeant Major James Moohan.

The language is colourful as Sergeant Major Moohan insists they practise again and again what they should do should things go wrong.

The PRT’s four patrols head out from the main Kiwi base for three-week stints in their assigned areas. With their vehicles loaded with fresh rations, and accompanied by a medic, they look after themselves in small makeshift bases. In daylight they patrol.

“That’s the best part,” says Private Young, who provides protection for the patrol commander. ”There’s always something different to do.”

Their duties vary: they constantly watch for combatants or suspicious activity, but also deliver aid, such as clothing, school equipment and food, and meet with the local “sub-governors “ and chiefs of police to drink tea and hear what’s going on.

Sometimes pleas for assistance are made, and if the patrol can’t help immediately, the request is relayed back to the team headquarters for further consideration. It may be that a water pump needs repairing, a cache of weapons needs to be destroyed, or part of a local classroom rebuilt.

The PRT’s commanding officer, Naval Captain Ross Smith, says the signs are “very encouraging” the PRT is making a significant impact in Bamyan.

“There are frustrations- what job doesn’t have those? Each PRT rotation is here for only six months, and there are good reasons for that but you can lose a bit of continuity. The construction season is short, and there is so much assistance needed here. We’d like to help everyone who asks, but that is unrealistic.

“The best part of all this is you can see where you have been – you can see the effect of the work you have done, and what it means to these people. This team is very young, but that’s the nature of our military. I think their enthusiasm stems from seeing that they are able to make a difference to people who really need it. For me, that makes it all worthwhile.”


Sidebar:

Learning to read and write is one of the biggest hurdles Afghan policemen and women face, says Wellington police officer Detective Inspector Simon Perry.

He is one of three New Zealand police officers in Bamyan training and mentoring local police. The development and upskilling of the Afghan National Police, which will ultimately increase security and stability, is one the New Zealand government’s key areas of assistance in Afghanistan.

NZAID has funded seven new police vehicles for the local police, and five new stations are being built throughout the province An NZAID- funded literacy programme is also in place, as are several other smaller policing-related projects.

Inspector Perry trains trainers in order to build capacity in the local force.

He has covered a small amount of criminal investigative training, but has mainly concentrated on ethics, the meaning of democracy, corruption, law, human rights issues, and the use of force.

“The police here are keen, and that’s good. They just need formal training to bring them up to speed. We even have a couple of Afghan women under training. That was unheard of until recently.

“You can’t overlay how we police in New Zealand with how it’s done here – there is no comparison.”

Emerging from the graduation ceremony of a room of senior police officers, he feels positive about what the New Zealanders have imparted.

“I feel optimistic about what these guys will take out into their communities. If we can change the way senior staff  do things here then hopefully they’ll pass that on to their junior counterparts. Eventually they should be self-sufficient.”

Judith Martin is a New Zealand Defence Force journalist.

This page was last reviewed on 27 November 2007, and is current.