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They cleared away our in-flight meals, then told us to put on our helmets and body-armour. That's when you it hits you - you're flying into a war zone. The plane's plunged into pitch darkness, and swoops down to Kandahar like a roller-coaster. That's to avoid getting shot down.

Welcome to Afghanistan.

Arriving in Helmand

We arrive to find the flags at half-mast. A soldier's just been killed in an explosion. He was Kieron Hill, a popular lance corporal. Kieron was one of more than four hundred soldiers who came here with the Mercian Regiment's second battalion. Soldiers recruited across Derbyshire, Nottinghamshire and Worcestershire.

They paid tribute to Kieron at a moving vigil service. Among them, soldiers who looked as though they were just out of school. Then, late at night, they lined the runway in darkness, as Kieron's coffin was carried slowly into a brightly-lit military transport plane.

Kieron died on a mission supporting Afghanistan's National Army, the ANA. They're patrolling – and fighting – with Mercians as part of a mentoring and training programme. It's designed to get local soldiers up to speed, so our troops can eventually come home.

They've created what they call 'security bubbles', to protect Helmand's main towns and cities. Now they're trying to push those bubbles out into territory controlled by the Taliban. But their enemy's fighting hard to keep them back.

And the risks soon become crystal-clear. We're given a briefing about the danger from landmines and the deadly 'improvised explosive devices' known as IEDs. We're shown how cooking pots have been booby-trapped, and trip-wires laid across roads.

Into battle

Today we're heading into Gereshk, a strategic commercial centre on the Helmand River. Recent suicide bombings in the town have claimed the lives of British troops.

The threat's so high that the soldiers drive through town pointing loaded pistols. And they let off flares to warn approaching vehicles to move out of our way.

It wasn't long before I got a taste of what they're up against. I'm with "Amber 93", a small team of Mercians who are mentoring the ANA. 

There are warm greetings for the British soldiers as they arrive at the Afghan base, to go on a joint patrol.

I'm sitting inside a Vector armoured Landrover. Captain Neil Cresswell and Private Chris Roberts are standing either side of me, through hatches in the roof. They're 'top cover' – lookouts, armed with rifles and fixed machine guns.

At first, locals wave and smile as we move into the countryside. The low, rolling hills and wheat fields remind me of parts of the East Midlands. But look closely, and you can see there's a newly harvested opium crop. And the farms are mud-built compounds which look like something out of the stone-age.

The convoy stops. The Afghan soldiers are worried. They've spotted 'dickers': men watching us from bushes, using mobile phones. They could be spying for the Taliban and that makes us a target.

There's a warning shot. Then a farmer comes to tell us there are Taliban in a compound ahead. As we close in, "k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k" – the sound of distant gunfire – from across the canal. 

"CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH". Chris and Neil fire back. "CH-CH-CH". This is what they call a contact. Contact? I call it a fierce gun battle!

"K-k-k-k-k... CH-CH-CH-CH… Ting.

"CH-CH-CH… Ting-Ting…"

That's the sound of Neil's empty cartridge cases rattling down like rain.

"WHOOSH" (a rocket).

"PING": one of our group hears a Taliban bullet hit the back door.

"Rapid fire!" shouts Neil. "CH-CH-CH-CH". Am I scared? Not as much as I ought to be, because inside this heavily armoured truck you get a false sense of security. 

Our guns sound much louder than theirs. You can't see the enemy. It feels more like a film or a video game, and you have to remind yourself they're trying to kill each other.

But listening to the banter you'd think they were playing football.

"k-k-k-k-k-k". "Miles off", says Chris. Then he laughs "Well, not too bad like!"

"Five second rapid, stand by. CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH…k-k-k-k".

"Incoming fire left." Now we're being attacked from another direction.

It carried on for 45 minutes, until two air force jets roared over, in what the army calls a show of force. It's a final warning to the Taliban: stop shooting, or you'll be blown to pieces.

The Mercians fired more than 2000 rounds, including 250 from grenade launchers.

"Routine", Chris tells me. That was routine?

I couldn't help wondering about the faceless enemy who were firing from across the canal. What are they like? Do they have the same sense of humour? And were any of them killed today?

Neil Cresswell told me they simply don't know. What they do know is the Taliban are good at moving their casualties to safety. And the enemy might have simply melted away to fight another day.

So who won that battle? "It's difficult to say who won and lost", Neil replied. 

And what did that patrol achieve? "It identified there are locals friendly towards (our) troops, but also identified the enemy forces on the far side of the canal are observing that area."

There's another brief exchange of gunfire as we head back to base. Four men in a pickup truck fire six rounds into the Afghan Army truck at the head of our convoy, then drive off. The soldiers think they were trying to lay explosives across our route out.

The next day, we heard the same patrol didn't have such a lucky escape. One of the Afghan National Army trucks hit an IED. One of their soldiers was killed.

Asymmetric warfare

This is what they call 'asymmetric warfare'. The Taliban simply don't have the firepower to win conventional battles. So they're using 'insurgent' tactics. 

Getting shot at doesn't seem to worry these British soldiers too much - two young privates casually told me about a five and a half hour gun battle.

It's the IEDs that really scare them. They kill and maim without warning. And for thirty Mercians on the AVA Platoon, they're an occupational hazard.

These men guard the huge supply convoys which snake their way through enemy territory, delivering vital supplies to the army's isolated forward bases.

On their last trip they were shot at, and attacked with mortars. And they discovered three IEDs which had been laid in their path.

Lance Corporal James Tipton lost two friends when another IED exploded. Private Brendon Ogden told me he carries a 'St Christopher' with him, and kisses it every time they go out.

These soldiers are risking their lives every day. And you can only admire their professionalism, their commitment, and their casual bravery. 

Back at the Mercians headquarters at "Camp Shorobak", I spoke to Private Wayne Cadmore and Private Leroy Risi. 

"I always see it as either us or them", Wayne told me. "When you get back into camp you feel a bit depressed, because you've probably killed a person. But obviously he's trying to hurt you. So at the end of the day I'm just being professional and just doing my job."

Leroy put it this way: "You don't get none of this 'he was a father... he could have been someone's dad'. Imagine trying to score a goal. Because they're trying to score a goal against you, you're always happy that you've scored. So when you shoot someone, it feels kind of good."

But time and again, they're marking the deaths of their own comrades here. And after yet another remembrance service, one soldier spoke for them all. I saw him turn to his friend, and say "I'm fed up with saying The Lord's Prayer."

A fortnight later, safely back in the East Midlands, an email pops up on my computer.

It's from one of the Mercians who took us out on patrol – who fought that gun battle.

He says the lads from "Amber 93" want to thank me for my visit, and I'm welcome to join them any time.

What an offer!