NZSAS operating at half its traditional operational strength, sources say
Friday, 26 June 2026
New Zealand’s Special Air Service is world-renowned for its bravery against the Taliban and securing peace in places like Bougainville and East Timor. Made famous by Willie Apiata, the first Kiwi solider to be awarded a Victoria Cross since World War II, the elite commando force also supports police in protecting New Zealanders from terrorism at home. Now, sources tell The Post, its personnel and capability are down by a half. That’s upset our only ally Australia plus our Nato and East Asian defence partners – and raises questions of how authorities would cope in a terror attack. National Affairs Editor Andrea Vance investigates.
The accolade came from one of the most authoritative figures in modern warfare.
When former Defence Minister Ron Mark bumped into retired US General David Petraeus at a global conference in Kyiv last year, the legendary commander of the surge in Iraq didn’t mince his words.
“My God,” Petraeus told him. “You have one of the finest special force regiments in the entire world, and I was privileged to command them.”
It was a reputation forged in blood, sweat, and professionalism, honed over two decades of deployments in Afghanistan, decorated with US Presidential Unit Citations, and revered by elite allies like the British 22 SAS.
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For a long time, the New Zealand Special Air Service (NZSAS) was the undisputed jewel in this country's strategic crown.
But as the Government prepares to spend $12b rebuilding military capability, current and former defence figures are warning that the elite regiment is grappling with the same recruitment and retention crisis that has hollowed out the wider defence force.
And that depletion is being felt far beyond the regiment itself, disappointing Australia, as our formal bilateral defence ally and partners across the Indo-Pacific.
Historically, the regiment has been built around a small cadre of badged operators – traditionally numbering fewer than a couple of hundred across the unit.
Each squadron is understood to include around 100 personnel, supported by logistics, intelligence and specialist enablers.
The Defence Force declines to confirm current figures, including a number put to it by The Post. But sources have said the number of fully operational personnel in a squadron is now closer to half its traditional strength.
“I would say it's [capability] gone,” Mark, who served as defence minister between 2017 and 2020, said.
“I would say that with my heart ripped out of my chest. And there will be those who will condemn me for saying that, but I would say it's gone, because the wealth of experience that we have built up, the human ability capability, has left us.”
That warning comes after a worrying official assessment of military readiness.
During Parliament’s recent Scrutiny Week, defence minister Chris Penk told the foreign affairs, defence and trade select committee that the army’s land combat capability has fallen to 45%. At sea, the picture is similar, with maritime combat capability assessed at around 57%.
This public admission has intensified concern among defence insiders about the system that underpins our most elite units.
Major General (Retired) John Howard, a former senior NZDF commander and intelligence chief who also held a senior role at the US Defense Intelligence Agency, said the figure should ring alarm bells.
“The recent public admission by the minister responsible of Defence that our land combat capability is operating at just 45% should be a matter of serious concern for CDF [the Chief of Defence Force], the Cabinet and New Zealand's national security system.
“You can be certain it is also a serious concern among our close allies and partners – and among those who may seek to exploit the vulnerabilities of a small nation.”
He added: “To me the real question is not the number itself, but what level of strategic risk New Zealand, and by default our Nation Security System, is prepared to carry.
“One of the key roles of our senior military leaders, in this case, the Chief of Defence Force and the Chief of Army – is to act as a warning mechanism to the government when such risks become real or are about to.”
Howard said he would be “very surprised” if international partners had not already raised “the state of New Zealand's military capabilities – particularly our land combat capability, which includes our special operations forces' with senior military leaders, diplomats and Penk.
“'We've lived through what I would describe as an extended holiday from history, where we've tended to see national security as something someone else takes care of for us,” he said. “That's changing.”
A shrinking talent pool
Compounding the crisis is a recruitment pipeline that is failing to replace the talent walking out the door. The SAS refuses to lower its uncompromising selection standards to fill empty boots.
Entry to the regiment remains open to serving NZDF personnel who meet strict medical and fitness standards, but insiders say a shrinking army base has made sustaining a selection pipeline increasingly difficult.
Alongside this, a civilian direct-entry pathway was introduced in 2010. Hopefuls attempt the same selection process, including the infamous 24-hour Exercise von Tempsky march carrying full loads in difficult terrain.
Between 2010 and 2019 only seven passed civilian selection and subsequent training. In several recent years, success has been even rarer: at times, no civilian candidates have made it through.
Insiders also suggest the SAS did not run its core selection course this year due to a lack of suitable candidates. NZDF would not confirm this.
“If you’re not getting the numbers to the selection course, it tells you your base has shrunk too far,” Mark said. “You are no longer capable of sustaining a credible military elite.”
(With 20 years military experience, Mark put himself through selection as a Royal New Zealand Electrical and Mechanical Engineers logistics officer and says he was one of only two regular force officers to pass the course during that cycle, alongside future Governor-General Jerry Mateparae.)
‘The pay rates were really stink’
The roots of the exodus lie in pandemic-era deployment decisions and a highly competitive global private market.
During the Covid-19 response, the wider army was used as isolation staff for MIQ facilities.
Compounding this, elite operators were deployed to guard 501 deportees arriving from Australia. Those duties sapped morale, sources said.
“This is not a new problem. The Covid period was demoralising for service personnel, tasked with duties that they were not trained for, and did not sign up for,” said John Battersby, a Senior Fellow at Massey University’s Defence and Security Centre. Soldiers “expressed concern not only about recruitment and retention, but especially skills fade as normal training was not occurring,” he said.
Combined with the fall of Kabul reducing future deployment opportunities, these conditions prompted an exodus of the unit's most seasoned personnel.
“There was, certainly within the army especially, there was a lot of people that left during Covid, because they didn't want to be basically, as someone described it, Stalag XIII camp guard isolation… and the combat capability of all three services was diminished significantly because of it,” retired Lieutenant Colonel Josh Wineera, now a defence consultant, said.
Former Defence Minister Peeni Henare said the SAS was just as vulnerable to the “white-hot” pandemic job market as any regular unit, with middle-to-senior rank personnel leaving because they could earn significantly more in the civilian sector.
“Before Covid, the pay rates were really stink,” Henare, who held the portfolio from 2020 to 2023, said. “You had all these middle rank to senior rank people just [think], hey, I can earn $300k being a builder, than being a tradie of the army, and they were all leaving.”
That attrition affected the regiment's selection pipeline, because it shrank the talent pool needed to find and source the top 1% of elite operators, Henare said.
Highly-trained SAS operators also resigned for lucrative private security contracts in the Middle East, he said.
Sources told the Star-Times of overseas recruiters targeting camps, including the SAS home base in Papakura, with “suitcases of cash” and in high-end cars.
“I'm told we have more New Zealand SAS operators in the UAE than we have in New Zealand right now,” Mark said. “That’s tragic.”
Wineera said the draw to Gulf states is unrelated to the recent US-Iran conflict and goes beyond generous pay packages.
“Many of the Middle Eastern nations are really looking to really step up their special forces in the training, and so that seems to be a natural pipeline.”
They are recruiting heavily across the global special forces landscape, drawing in personnel from other top-tier international units. “You get our officers who then become surrounded by similar level operators… it's almost like the band's getting back together.”
Alongside working with elite peers, they are also tasked with training foreign forces – a role central to the traditional identity of the SAS, Wineera said.
Crucially, the talent drain has hit the regiment’s senior non-commissioned officers (NCOs), the backbone of the unit, sources say.
They link policy and execution, mentor junior staff, and oversee less experienced officers. Henare said the pandemic-era exodus mainly affected these middle to senior ranks.
Mark pointed to a widening gap between senior NCOs and Defence headquarters, where experienced combat sergeants felt sidelined by a system that rewards time in Wellington over frontline service. When they leave, the passing on of skills and discipline to new operators is broken, he said.
NZDF, and Penk, declined to answer questions about the strength of the SAS, citing national security concerns. But Chief of Defence Force Air Marshal Tony Davies told the select committee NZDF attrition rates have stabilised post-Covid, with a current level of just under 8.5%.
In a statement, NZDF said the army “continues to provide its government-directed outputs”.
“Appropriate ministers are regularly briefed on the state of the armed services, including the NZ Army.
“The New Zealand Defence Force (NZDF) continues to explore its options as they relate to retaining key personnel in critical trades across the organisation.
“To avoid prejudicing the security and defence of New Zealand, the NZDF does not publicly provide specific information detailing individual unit readiness.”
‘They're trashing our name’
Experts say what remains of the SAS is under strain and that has reduced frontline defence capability.
Sources said the NZDF has wound down D Squadron, a specialist counter-terrorism unit. Wineera said that responsibility has shifted to the police Special Tactics Group.
D Squadron personnel were given the option of attempting full SAS selection or returning to conventional units. That has meant maintaining a fully resourced B Squadron has remained difficult.
As a result, the NZDF now relies on A and B Squadrons, previously focused primarily on offshore deployments, to respond to any domestic incidents that police can’t deal with.
Those two Sabre squadrons are combat units capable of amphibious, air, mobility and mountain operations. After completing the selection course, candidates undergo intense training.
Those who pass are awarded the legendary sand beret, with a badge depicting Excalibur flanked by a pair of fiery wings and inscribed with the motto Who Dares Wins.
E Squadron, which provides explosive ordnance disposal and was deployed during the the March 15 terror attacks, the Whakaari/White Island eruption, and the 2022 Parliament protest, and support squadrons also remain active.
Howard said Kiwi special forces are highly regarded when deployed, but operate with fewer supporting resources than larger allies.
He said these “enablers” include equipment, advanced intelligence, modern technology, and dedicated transport such as helicopters and aircraft.
Howard also pointed to limited career pathways after years of service and multiple deployments.
“The question becomes: where do you go next? In New Zealand, such pathways can be limited.
“We recognise and thank our military on Anzac Day, but for the rest of the year there is often a disconnect between that recognition and the lived reality of service life, career opportunity and family commitment.”
Mark said those who raise concerns about the secretive SAS are often criticised. But he said a culture of silence is masking a deeper problem.
“Staying silent gives licence to those who know about it to ignore the problem and do nothing about it,” he said. “What they don't understand is that they're trashing our name, they're trashing in the real world of combat capability, and they are trashing our reputation and our value proposition in the eyes of our strategic partners.
“You've got to ask yourself, how important is this? Or you're going to throw your hands up in the air and say, ‘we're going to become Switzerland of the South Pacific, have our own independent foreign policy, and we're going to become neutral.’”