SIX weeks ago, I received an unexpected call from the Ministry of Defence press office, informing me in courteous but clipped, to-the-point army tones that I had been squeezed on to the flight for a brief visit to Helmand, Afghanistan, in the run-up to Christmas.

It is a rare opportunity to get close to the major story of the last few years and meet the London-based civilians, soldiers and reservists taking the fight to the Taliban.

I didn't need a second invitation.

On Friday I'll be aboard a charter flight or a lumbering transporter with an ITN crew, the press officer for the Territorial Army and a few dozen soldiers heading to the combat zone.

Or, as the good people from the MoD have forewarned, I'll be slumped in a corner at either RAF Brize Norton, Oxford, or an airfield in Dubai waiting it out while my flight is rescheduled.

I am due to spend five or six days at Camp Bastion, the sprawling British headquarters, in the middle of the forbiddingly-named Desert of Death in the poor, opium-riddled Taliban stronghold of Helmand.

It is the hub of British and American military operations in the region, supplying, feeding and housing our soldiers before they are deployed to the Forward Operating Bases (FOBs) where much of the 'persistent low level dirty fighting' - as the head of the army General Sir David Richards captured it - is taking place.

My brief is to catch up with the NHS London civilian medics of the 256 Field Hospital - TA volunteers who provide the 'gold standard' medical services at Camp Bastion, saving the lives of many seriously injured soldiers and Afghan civilians caught up in the fighting.

They have been there for a few months, since I met them during their last pre-deployment training, and I wonder how the stresses of being away from home for so long and handling a relentless procession of trauma injuries are affecting them.

Depending on the access allowed by the MoD, I will also be following other stories and reporting on the troops as they gear up for Christmas far from home.

The last weeks have been fairly manic as I've tried to stick by the army mantra of the Five Ps - 'Preparation Prevents P*** Poor Performance'.

My editor and the health and safety bosses at my employer Trinity Mirror fought my corner and managed, with little notice, to get me on a three-day Hostile Environment Training course hosted by News International - vital for both my ability to handle what may be in store in Afghanistan, and to gain insurance cover.

Run by former soldiers, the course sprinted through a panoply of dodgy scenarios faced by journalists working abroad, from being taken hostage, extorted, arrested and spied on, to some basic counter-surveillance techniques.

All very James Bond, but there were some useful elements to it, not that I am likely to face any of those threats on a short embed with the British Army.

A basic war zone first aid training course followed, which was sobering, but excellently delivered by an army paramedic who has served in both Iraq and Afghanistan.

I now know how to tourniquet a limb - including my own - that has been blown off by an improvised explosive device, administer basic resuscitation and dress gunshot wounds.

Obviously I hope never to encounter any of the above scenarios, but it is reassuring to have some skill to act if I have to.

The major headache has been sourcing gear for Bastion, including all manner of cold weather clothing (temperatures can dip to minus 10 at this time of year), goggles, boots and waterproofs.

I have begged, borrowed and bought items from former soldiers, friends and outrageously overpriced outdoor shops.

Hopefully I have all I need, especially if I spend most of the trip in the warm tents of Bastion, which soldiers call Slipper City.

You can follow my reports on the website and on Twitter. My username is AidanpaJones.