In this final dispatch for his series on military technology, Business Edge writer Tom Keenan reports from Canadian Forces Camp Julien near Kabul, Afghanistan, where he learns about – and test drives – some of the tools being used by Canadian troops on and behind the front lines.

Canadian Forces Camp Julien, Kabul

"Nobody owns the night like we do."

That's the proud claim put forward by a member of Canadian Forces Bravo Company stationed at Camp Julien in Kabul, Afghanistan.

Photo courtesy Canadian Forces
Columnist Tom Keenan checks out the technological edge used by Canadian Forces troopers as part of Operation Athena.

To demonstrate why, he gingerly passes around a $60,000 pair of night vision binoculars. "We can fight in the visible or the IR (infrared) spectrum, and the others guys don't have that capability."

He reaches over and flips a switch on a small gizmo that Canadian soldiers wear on the left side of their uniforms. Nothing seems to have changed, until you look through the binoculars and realize it's now giving off bright flashes of infrared light. "That means he's wounded, and it allows our medics to quickly recognize that he's a friend, and not a foe."  In my recent five-day visit to this amazing place, I saw countless ways in which technology is helping the Canadian troops here do a very big job. Canada currently supplies about 700 soldiers to the UN-Authorized International Security Assistance Force (ISAF), which is trying to bring peace, order and good government to this war-torn country. To put that in perspective, last year there were 2,000 Canadian troops here and the workload hasn't really changed much.

The Canadians also act as landlords for this sprawling complex. It isn't unusual to see soldiers from other countries eating in the mess beside Canadians. Some are based at Camp Julien; others are just dropping in.

"They do their best to be on patrol around here at mealtimes," joked one Canadian, "because the food is the best of any of the camps. If they sign in, we get paid for their meals, but they don't always do that."

I'm taken on a patrol with Recce Squadron, the Edmonton-based unit that goes through the street of Kabul and sometimes to remote places such as the Surobi region, three hours east of the Afghan capital.

They're the eyes and ears of Operation Athena, and they have some remarkable technology to help them, much of it installed in their super-snooper Coyote armoured vehicles.

The Coyote has been called "the most sophisticated military surveillance vehicle in the world.”

It has specialized radar, enhanced video cameras and forward-looking infrared and laser rangefinding along with an extendable mast.

These electronic signals all come up at the operator control station (OCS), which has the feel of a highly sophisticated video game console.

The difference is that the blips moving on the screens are real people and vehicles, some of whom are up to no good. Soldiers on Operation Athena are continually under threat from rocket-propelled grenade attacks, landmines and suicide bombers.

"I can mark this target and follow it," says the soldier operating the OCS, "and communicate its exact position to the gunner.”

They don't like to release information about how far away the Coyote's gear can see, but a little digging on the Internet produces claims like "it can detect a moving man at three kilometres and a moving vehicle at 12 kilometres.”

And, of course, GPS technology plays a vital part in tying this all together.

We tour in the Coyotes, but we actually travel mostly in Bisons - older, less-techy armoured vehicles with hinged roof hatches. Popping our heads out like gophers, we see Kabul's resurging city life, and especially its children.

The vast majority wave or give us the "thumbs-up" sign. Only once in five days did I see a local raise his middle finger at us, and that was probably teenage boy bravado.  Sometimes we travel in G-wagons, the armoured vehicle that replaced the poorly protected Iltis jeep that carried two Canadian soldiers, Sgt. Robert Short and Cpl. Robbie Beerenfenger, to their deaths on a landmine in the nearby Khost Valley. Their vehicle, or what's left of it, is still around in what the soldiers ruefully call the "Iltis graveyard."

Yes, the G-wagons have started to develop cracks in the floor, but that seems to be a cosmetic problem that a red-faced Mercedes Benz is fixing under warranty.

Canada's role in Afghanistan is to support the ISAF, charged with providing a safe and secure environment, encouraging free election, and spreading the rule of law in a war-torn country.

"Operation Athena is about hearts and minds, not guns," one soldier tells me. This is why I'm so eager to see the work of Canada's CIMIC (Civilian Military Co- operation) teams. But there's not enough room for all 10 of the civilians in our group to do this. Our names go in a hat, and mine is the second one pulled.

I find myself feeling a little foolish wearing a flak jacket to a meeting in which everybody else is in loose-fitting Afghan garb, chatting and drinking tea. But by now I've learned to follow orders. It's the weekly gathering of "Wakils" (neighbourhood leaders) in the office of the "local mayor."

This could be the Calgary or Edmonton city council chamber. One guy wants his neighbourhood's main road graded. Another is concerned because aid meant for widows in his district is being given to people whose husbands are alive. The discussion becomes heated and I'm starting to be glad for the flak jacket.

CIMIC representatives Capt. Dave Myles and Capt. Brent Purcell follow the meeting through a translator, and then offer to help when they can.

In real life, Myles is an engineer with the City of Victoria, serving here because he's a reservist. His professional background comes in very handy. He tells the guy who wants his road graded that what it really needs is a huge load of gravel and a major rebuilding. That's far beyond what the base's lone grader can accomplish. The CIMIC guys want to be helpful, but they also realize that they can't solve every problem in the whole swarming city of Kabul.

Other techno-highlights of our visit include using a water cannon to blow up an IED (improvised explosive device) and driving tEODor, the German-made robot that does explosive ordnance disposal. This baby would look great under any gadget freak's Christmas tree. It has a Canadarm-like appendage that can stroke like a feather or crush like a vise. It's also equipped with cameras and can draw its gun, so don't mess with it! tEODor's not cheap at over a million euros, but it's a bargain if it saves even one life.

I return to Canada tremendously impressed with the work being done in Operation Athena, and with a new sense that they will need to rely even more on technology in the future.

Canada wants to be a force in world peace support operations, but probably isn't going to send huge numbers of soldiers overseas.

What it can, and must, do is ensure that those who go into harm's way have every technological advantage, and the skills and training to use them to the fullest.

Web watch:
www.cbc.ca/news/background/cdncasualties/
www.cmhg.gc.ca
www.nato.int/issues/afghanistan/040628-factsheet.htm

(Tom Keenan is a professor at the University of Calgary and an expert on technology and its social implications. He can be reached at keenan@businessedge.ca)