NEARLY 12 years ago -- in March, 1991 -- I became a sort of war correspondendent.

The editor of the day decided that I should join a party of North-west journalists taking part in an army public relations exercise in the sands of Kuwait.

(This followed a request for a rise and I never found out whether the trip was reward or punishment).

I spent the most uncomfortable week of my life travelling in helicopters and on various army vehicles as we were whizzed around the desert to meet local soldiers who had helped defeat Saddam Hussein's invading Iraqi army.

Perhaps inevitably, we called ourselves the "Desert Prats."

Troops which were part of the army's Fourth Armoured Brigade helped the Americans to win what became known as the "100-hour war."

Then, instead of pressing on to Kuwait City, the politicians decreed that the various units involved should set up camp and wait for the orders which would eventually send them home.

Everything was impressively neat and tidy by the time we arrived.

My colleagues and I were kept busy asking "Anybody here from Bolton/Preston/Blackpool/Manchester etc?"

It was good fun and marvellously surreal as I found myself being berated in a good-natured manner about the Wanderers coverage in the Bolton Evening News.

At one point I was told that the chap playing golf in the far distance -- yes, really -- was from Bolton.

As I trudged towards him I knew how Stanley must have felt when he bumped into Dr Livingstone in deepest Africa.

And one of my most vivid memories from the trip concerns the attempts made by the polite young soldiers to add homely touches to their tents.

Some of the lads -- many of them 18, 19 or 20 -- had painstakingly created a fake "brick" fireplace from blocks of wet sand and others had made "speakers" from cardboard boxes to give visual support to a small portable radio.

But the memory of recent grim events was overwhelming.

Nine British soldiers were killed and another 11 were injured as a result of so-called "friendly fire" from American A10 Warthog fighters.

In contrast, we were taken to see the remains of an Iraqi tank which our allies had destroyed with "unfriendly fire."

The result was much the same -- young lives snuffed out in horrific fashion.

I was encouraged to pick out souvenirs from the wreckage, but there was no way I could do that.

In the years since the Gulf War, Saddam has continued to defy Western expectations of internal "regime change" and is apparently still regarded as a threat.

The Americans and the Brits are now preparing for war and there is a strong suspicion that they will go ahead whatever the results of the UN weapons inspection. Saddam, for all his reputation as a thorough rogue, looks likely to win this public relations battle and convince the Arab world, in particular, that he is not the bad hat.

I am deeply uneasy about the prospect of military deaths on both sides and the slaughter of innocent civilians.

There are millions of us around the world who have yet to be convinced that all this is necessary.