Author Chris Masters at the launch of the Middle East display and Afghanistan DVD release at the Australian War Memorial Credit:Karleen Minney When the Dutch and the Canadians pulled out of Afghanistan in 2010, Australia stayed in support of other allies, notably the US and Britain. When an exit date was announced, that ever-shifting mission strategy – from counter-terrorism to counter-insurgency to capacity building – formed into an almighty rush. Maintaining discipline in the final phase of the mission became more of a challenge. It had been clear for a while that killing more Afghans would not bring the coalition closer to victory. But it could be hard dissuading soldiers that a long-discredited "kill count" was actually no measure of success. Finding moral authority

Rumours of bad behaviour involving Australia's special forces intensified. Common sense suggested after 23 Special Forces rotations, emerging evidence of unlawful conduct should not come as a surprise. Worry that a small number of Special Forces soldiers might have been exposed to too many tours, too much brutality and become increasingly difficult to control turned serious. Image from Chris Masters' book, No Front Line Credit:Courtesy of Allen & Unwin Major-General Jeff Sengelman, at the time Special Operations Commander, bravely bit the bullet. Chief of Army Lieutenant-General Angus Campbell supported him and an inquiry by the inspector-general of the ADF was commissioned to begin in May 2016. Australian War Memorial director Brendan Nelson was this week critical of the inquiry. He told the ABC: "I don't see the national interest in having protracted inquiries calling for people to come forward on the basis of rumours." Governor-General Quentin Bryce talks with Corporal Ben Roberts-Smith after awarding him the Victoria Cross in January 2011. Credit:Australian Defence Force

I have high regard for the remarkable work Nelson has done at the Australian War Memorial, ably assisted by his chairman, Channel 7 boss Kerry Stokes. I worked with both of them on films and galleries developed to better educate the Australian public about the Afghanistan conflict. I would also regard Nelson as a friend, and clearly sometimes friends disagree. I do not know what has gone on inside that inquiry, but I have spoken to witnesses who have cooperated. Their evidence goes well beyond rumour. War Memorial director Brendan Nelson at the launch of the Special Forces exhibition "From the shadows" Credit:Karleen Minney In my view, the inquiry should run its course for many good reasons. One of the few victories left for Australia within that ugly battle space is moral authority. For the sake of our international reputation we must be held above the standards of those we opposed. History is a tough judge. We should be alert to what may be revealed in time, and better the government does it than a broken soldier wracked by PTSD.

Ben Roberts-Smith, VC, MG on Anzac day, 2017 Credit:Darrian Traynor If we don't, someone else could do it for us. The International Criminal Court has jurisdiction and will be prepared to investigate matters if Australia looks the other way. For the sake of the integrity of the service, we should know what actually happened, so we can correct bad behaviour. And if it is found there was no wrongdoing, the innocent are fairly and publicly absolved. The hunt for evidence I travelled three times to Afghanistan to cover the Australian mission. Most of my time was spent with conventional forces. The overall experience clutched me and will do so forever. I admired the particular bravery of young Australian men and women going out daily, risking their lives to improve and protect the lives of an embattled and poverty-stricken population. In my view, the humanitarian elements of the mission deserved emphasis. The third trip saw me embed with Australian Special Forces, the first and only reporter to do so. Again, I was admiring and somewhat struck by the relentlessness and momentum of fighting, far more intense than was understood back at home. So I decided to tell the Special Forces' Afghanistan story, culminating in a 594-page book chronicling 13 years of conflict.

While historians wait for the records to accumulate, journalists go on the hunt for primary evidence. The best sources are those who were there. Over time I conducted 200 interviews, my notes swelling to hundreds of pages. Australia's longest war tended to be understood in unrelated snippets. Personnel from recycling rotations knew fragments of their own stories, but not so much about the work of other task forces. A chronology composed from media reporting, open source material and information drawn from coalition partners was then fused with interview content. When gaps in my understanding emerged, I asked questions. As the manuscript came together, it was sent to Special Operations Command for scrutiny. Some of my colleagues might wonder about this step. Pure journalism is generally presumed to be absent of official intervention. I do not see it that way. Sometimes we work inside the tent. Sometimes we work outside the tent. Sometimes we do both. I never saw the maverick reporter trawling the hills of Afghanistan interviewing the Taliban as any better informed than the journalist taking notes at a Defence media conference.

Having my work checked by Defence delivered greater accuracy as well as comfort for those who had stuck their necks out to be interviewed. I can't pretend the arrangement always ran smoothly. Cooperation waxed and waned. Special Forces personnel are culturally resistant to publicity. An admirable ethos of not seeking publicity eternally competed with principles of transparency and public interest. But in time they came to see I was being thorough and fair, and on occasions even managing to tell them something they did not know. For all that, when people read my book they will see it is not about the inspector-general's inquiry. Friends and enemies

Neither is there a particular focus on Australia's most famous soldier, Ben Roberts-Smith, VC MG, who has oddly attacked the book on the front page of The Australian newspaper as an attempt to undermine his legacy. For his sake and mine, I am doing my best to avoid advancing that impression, which was driven by initial press coverage of the book. But so it goes. You give the book extract rights to Fairfax and you take a beating from The Australian. Accusations in that newspaper of me being unfair to Roberts-Smith and insensitive to family members who have lost their sons in Afghanistan have no merit. I had given Roberts-Smith all content relevant to himself months ahead of publication. And I had collaborated with the Australian Defence Force about notifying families. Challenges and criticism have since turned to my arrangement with Defence that allowed access to Special Forces personnel and prospectively sensitive information.

Channel 7 (Roberts-Smith's employer) has made Freedom of Information requests to the Department of Defence for documentation relevant to my book, No Front Line: Australian Special Forces at War in Afghanistan. If they had asked me, I could have told them that my agreement with Defence allowed for the vetting of my work regarding operational security and identification issues. Defence was allowed no editorial control and I was gifted no formal access to classified information. When you finish a book, a hiatus follows and after publication, it is as if you awake from a deep sleep. It is still a touch bewildering coming to terms with the way the planets have aligned. Loading Who could have anticipated that my opponents would be neither the government nor the Defence Force, but a constellation of friends, fellow journalists and a television network?

Chris Masters will be in conversation with former chief of army Peter Leahy at the ANU on November 14 at 6pm. He is launching his book No Front Line at Readings in Hawthorn on Wednesday, November 15 at 6.30pm.