They came scrambling out of ruined mud huts and from invisible dugouts high in Afghanistan's dusty hills to greet us yesterday - the men of the elite First Brigade of the rebel Northern Alliance, now preparing to go on the offensive.
This brigade is the spear tip of the main Alliance force, now ready to strike west against the Taliban as part of a drive to seize the strategically key town of Mazar-e-Sherif. With these attacks, the rebels hope to capitalise on the fear and chaos among the Taliban as they endure Anglo-American air strikes.
Getting to First Brigade involved a two-hour bone-shaking ride in a jeep along rutted roads close to the mountainous border with Tajikistan.
The dusty tracks were full of trucks bringing men and supplies up the line. Troops lounged in the shade of the few trees in this dusty, rocky landscape. "Very goods news, very good news," said our driver, Abdulaziz, dressed in traditional Afghan dress of loose brown tunic and trousers, in English when we ask about the air strikes.
"We are very happy about this bombing. But you know, most of the guys here are refugees from the Taliban. We have families there. I don't care what they do to bin Laden, just as long as they leave my family alone." First Brigade sit in the deserted village of Chaghatai, a collection of ruined mud-walled houses, in positions only a few hundred metres from the Taliban forces. Its commander, Gen Abdul Manon (52), is dressed in a brown and green cardigan and sports a thick salt and pepper beard.
Over tea and boiled sweets, he explained his men's motivation: All of them were expelled by the Taliban from Mazar-e-Sherif.
"My unit is a real mix. We've got Uzbeks, Tajiks and Pashtuns too. We are nicknamed the Mazar-e-Sharif battalion - what my men want most is just to go home." Then we were taken to the top of the highest hill, crawling through trenches carved into concrete-hard dried mud. "Look, there they are, there is the Taliban" shouts a soldier manning a machine gun. Looking over the parapet, it was possible to see three men, less then a mile away, walking over a bare hill. The machine gunner opened fire. The Taliban fired back. And suddenly we were in the middle of a battle.
Scrambling back through the trenches to the far slope, it was possible to watch the flaming red tracer bullets of a heavy machine gun as they went by overhead with a loud crack, hitting a field far behind the hill with a puff of dust.
With each shot, the journalists jumped and the soldiers, veterans of six years fighting against the Taliban, roared with laughter.
Finally, the soldiers led us sprinting down the hill to safety.
"I've been at war 23 years," says Gen Manon, who first fought with the forces allied to the Soviet Union before switching to their opposition, the Mujahadeen, in the 1980s. "Twenty three years," he repeats. "You know, our people really are hungry for peace."