UNMISS
United Nations Mission in South Sudan

Mongolian peacekeepers safeguard a lifeline convoy through danger and dust

UN Peacekeeping UNMISS South Sudan

UPPER NILE – It’s a little after 8:00 am in Bentiu, but the temperature is already above 32 degrees Celsius.

In bulletproof vests and helmets, a team of 23 peacekeepers from Mongolia serving with the United Nations Mission in South Sudan listen attentively as Captain Bilguun Mandakhbayar briefs them about the mission they are about to undertake.

He tries to keep it light and positive, because the journey will not be.

Their mission is to drive up to the halfway point to Abiemnhom to meet compatriots escorting a fleet of 22 fuel trucks, take custody and guide the same convoy safely back to base in Bentiu.

The first seven kilometres of the 50-kilometre stretch is grandiosely named the Main Supply Route, running smack through a lake that floods during the rainy season and completely submerges it. It must be rebuilt every year after the rains stop. The rest of the journey is across a denuded terrain, dry and dusty now, but boggy and unpassable from July to November.

The peacekeepers, including six women, head out in five vehicles with Capt. Bilguun in the lead car, trailed by an armed personnel carrier.

The team passes slowly through multiple security checkpoints in a region beset by intercommunal conflict, cattle raiding and criminality.

After three hours, the team finally gets to the rendezvous point.

“We’re here, that’s them,” says Captain Bilguun, pointing at the glimmer of trucks in the distance. He steps out of the vehicle, walking towards the convoy’s lead officer, saluting each other and shaking hands.

It feels like standing outside on open oven door as the temperature hits 40 degrees. But the soldiers quickly encircle the entire convoy to provide a 360-degree protective cover.

The cargo is very precious; 396,000 litres of fuel to support the entire year’s operations in Bentiu.

“We have been driving for two days from Wau,” says Salim Khamis, one of the truck drivers. “I’m glad we have protection from the UN, otherwise, this is a very dangerous job.”

“One of the biggest challenges for providing protective cover for large convoys like this is the sheer length – because the convoys can stretch to almost two kilometres,” says Capt. Bilguun, after his team have taken custody of the fleet.

“The biggest obstacles are often not external threats or actors, but nature itself. The amount of dust kicked up by the vehicles in the front can easily blind those following too closely so they must keep a distance – which means that our protective cover also must stretch to accommodate them.”

His radio crackles and he speaks into it. It’s an “all clear” from the last sentry vehicle to begin the journey back to Bentiu.

At the mouth of the great lake on the home stretch, the trucks come to a halt. The road straddling the murky water is not very wide, and only one vehicle can pass through some sections.

With hazard lights flashing, the convoy surges ahead warning incoming vehicles to stop and let it pass.

“If something goes wrong, that’s what can happen,” says Capt. Bilguun pointing to a red steel excavator lying rusting in the water. “That is why we must ensure that our vehicles pass as they are very heavy and there’s no room for error.”

Seven hours later, the fuel lorries arrive at the gates of the UNMISS base in Bentiu. The captain leaps out of the car and climbs atop a dyke giving the thumbs up.

Mission accomplished with thanks to the Mongolian battalion.

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By Robin Giri