CHAD DIARY:TONIGHT WE'RE set up as an over-watch looking down on the local town of Goz Beida. It's 3am and pitch black, but we can see everything we need in various shades of green and red through our night vision.
We're doing this as QRF (Quick Reaction Force), one of the stand-by tasks we perform when not on long range patrol. This "force" is always ready to be deployed at a moment's notice to anywhere in our area of operations for 48 hours.
We have to be self-sufficient, so vehicles are readied with our weapons, ammunition, food and water, so that in an emergency the QRF can tear out the gate. We test this reaction time regularly; things could go bad within hours, with no warning.
A possible incursion from the recently reinforced rebel force on the Sudanese border is now more of an annual "rally" than anything else. They might give it one big push before the three-month wet season, which starts in June. During these months, routes deteriorate greatly, and wadis become virtually impassable.
With eight weeks before the rain, we prepare for the "what if" scenario for Goz Beida, given that it's on the way to N'Djamena, the capital. Should an incursion happen, the lives of humanitarian workers, refugees and internally displaced persons (IDPs) could be in real danger.
The NGO compounds are attractive targets to potential looters as they hold food and fuel. If this happens, the QRF would be launched to evacuate NGO workers from their compounds to the safety of Camp Ciara (if they wish) and then return to town and support troops that would secure refugee and IDP sites as well as NGO equipment and vehicles from theft or vandalism.
Routine operations the QRF carry out are short patrols in the town to monitor the situation and get the general "vibe". These local patrols are an important source of information, as the QRF is the "eyes and ears" for the operations cell in Camp Ciara.
Careful observation and an acute awareness of surroundings in these narrow streets is vital in order to spot indicators that something may be up. Something small such as fewer people at the mosque, lights off in certain compounds or children not going to school are signs we look for.
In the year since EUfor (and now Minurcat, the UN force) has deployed, locals say they have noticed a significant reduction in banditry in the area, but it is still happening. Not tonight, however - not on my watch.
At first light we "bug out" and do a final lap of the town to show we've been here for the night. The sun greets us as we drive through market square, and locals are called to Morning Prayer. Goz Beida wakes up, and locals start about their routines of gathering firewood or opening stalls. Truck drivers emerge from overnight perches under their old trucks and head for prayers.
Chad is the 5th poorest country in the world, and the evidence is stark. There are very few solid buildings in a town with 40,000 inhabitants, living mostly in mud and straw huts. There is a weird blend of stone-age amenities, with a hint of 21st century living. On my first tour of duty overseas I am struck that infrastructure is almost non-existent.
Washing facilities, running water and an electricity grid are luxuries not yet found in Goz Beida. By the look of things, they will not be here soon. It is a hand-to-mouth existence. Yet, free enterprise is responsible for the most prominent feature in the town: a gigantic mobile phone mast. Around town and in Camp Ciara, reception is quite reliable, as my girlfriend will confirm.
On the way home we pass a local on horseback with a spear in one hand listening to a radio in the other. We arrive in camp after a long night and I go to Operations for debriefing.
Normal patrolling, even here in the desert, can become repetitive. But my patrol, flying a UN flag, tells everyone we're watching and ready. Repetition, here meaning the absence of immediate conflict, is a good thing.
Capt Cahill remains on duty with the Defence Forces in Chad