There seems to be a notion that, in the 21st century, wars are fought electronically – at a remove. They are not. To control the ground, you’ve got to be on the ground, and for that you need the infantry.

I recently spent three months with the 1st Battalion the Royal Anglian Regiment – known as the Vikings – watching them train and witnessing a battle with the Taliban. It was the closest I’ve come to dying and the most frightening moment of my life.

There were rounds flying between my legs and whizzing over my head. We were almost hit with an RPG, a rocket-propelled grenade. I’ve never hugged the ground so tightly.

I was not hit. But some in the regiment were not so lucky. The Vikings have so far lost nine men in Afghanistan, and when I was with them, they lost Corporal Darren Bonner, whose vehicle was hit by a roadside device. I was further up in the convoy, so our vehicle missed the mine by yards.

For me, the hardest part of making a film about them wasn’t Afghanistan, it was back home, when I met the parents of guys who had died – people such as Darren’s mum and dad. My first reaction when I heard about Darren was shock. But when I began to think about the ramifications of his death, it struck me how few soldiers actually have proper insurance, even though they are encouraged to do so.

If you’re an 18-year-old lad who’s taking home less than £1,000 a month in pay, are you really going to spend it on an insurance policy? But if you’re an 18-year-old who loses one of his legs and one of his eyes – which I saw happen – who’s going to look after you?

Sometimes your parents might, but some of these lads come from broken homes. That’s why they joined the army in the first place.

The reality is that even when you’re not engaged in fighting, the experience is uncomfortable. The ration packs were designed for a cold war. But it’s 50 degrees in Helmand. Who wants to be eating hot lamb stew in that heat? Halfway through my time in Afghanistan, I was given a Canadian ration pack. At the bottom of it were pineapple chunks. I hadn’t had any fruit in 2½ weeks. You may not think that’s a long time, but I drooled over that pineapple like Homer Simpson.

The weapons systems were very effective but clothes can be a problem, simply because you’re sweating so much. The sweat dries and the clothes rip. Everyone’s wearing rags most of the time.

I really can’t speak highly enough of the commanding officer, Stuart Carver, or the regimental sergeant major, Ian Robertson. These guys are highly professional, well-organised leaders. But it’s hard to win hearts and minds when someone is trying to shoot yours. And the locals don’t want a war zone in their back garden.

People talk about giving soldiers more medals, and I’m all for that. But what I’d rather see is more hospitals. I’d rather see them with better ration packs and kit. In America the military get half-price food in certain chains and discount travel. Once they’d finished their tour, I know a lot of the boys went to America for their holidays. They knew they’d get looked after there. They knew they could bring out their service cards and get free cinema, free food. That doesn’t happen in Britain, probably because we feel uneasy about Iraq.

Even so, I hope we are paying attention to the possible long-term psychological damage that happens in a war zone. One sniper I met shot at least 30 people while I was with the regiment. And when you’re a sniper you see their heads go. He’s 19. He still gets turned away from nightclubs because he looks too young. But he’s shot 30 people.

I’d like to meet the men a year down the line and see what’s happened to them. Who’s left? Who’s divorced? Whose wife’s had a baby? As I said, it’s the guys on the ground who win wars, and nothing could be more important than their stories.

Ross Kemp in Afghanistan begins on Sky One tomorrow at 9pm

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