ianstone
10-02-2010, 09:17 AM
« LIFE IN A WARZONE TOWN (http://druryblog.dailymail.co.uk/2010/09/life-in-a-warzone-town.html) | Main (http://druryblog.dailymail.co.uk/)
01 October 2010 11:35 AM
THE LEGACY OF MAJOR SEAN
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c4b866970b-320wi (http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c4b866970b-pi) A mini-riot seems to have broken out at the village school.
Wide-eyed pupils are jostling, shrieking, clambering on benches, clawing frantically with tiny hands. Teachers struggle in vain to calm the classroom of jabbering children.
What has sent the youngsters, aged just 7 to 9, into such a frenzy? A few fruit sweets, ballpoint pens and coloured pencils. For inexpensive things which are commonplace to kids in Britain are like gold-dust in remote parts of Afghanistan.
Bearing gifts, we have visited a school in Basharan that re-opened last year after being shut when Taliban militants executed its headmaster. Today, it has around 200 pupils. Its champion, the man who fought tirelessly to give local children a place to learn to read, write and do maths, was Major Sean Birchall.
He is seen by people in the area as a hero. But, tragically, the popular Welsh Guards officer never had the pleasure of seeing the fruits of his efforts.
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c4184e970b-800wi
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c41ab6970b-800wi
For the married father-of-one was killed by an enemy roadside bomb before the school opened its doors.
But Major Birchall's legacy lives on. Not only is the school thriving, but from beyond the grave he has saved the lives of countless fellow soldiers.
Inspired by the much-loved officer, killed aged just 33, the community has turned against the Taliban.In March, one parent tipped off the 1st Battalion Scots Guards that insurgents had seeded a key road they were working to open with deadly improvised explosive devices (IEDs). Each of the 10 booby-traps the Afghan father pointed out under cover of darkness could have killed several UK soldiers.
Since then, grateful parents and children have formed closer bonds with the troops and routinely tip them off if they see anything or anyone suspicious.
Such is their vigilance that the Taliban have not returned to the area and more and more youngsters are travelling greater distances for an education which, with luck, will help battle-scarred Afghanistan to a brighter future.
Carrying a rucksack full of blue pens, colouring pencils and penny chews, photographer Jamie Wiseman and I join the Scots Guards on a foot patrol to the school.
Even though there have been no attacks in Basharan recently, insurgents have refused to desert the surrounding area.
The hazy peace of the morning is repeatedly shattered by the rapid rattle of machinegun fire.
Three or so miles away, Taliban fighters are targeting bomb disposal experts trying to clear a huge IED planted in the middle of a crucial route. It was intended to murder and maim British soldiers.
It is mid-morning and the sun beats down relentlessly. As the troops begin to walk down the dusty path outside Patrol Base Tapa Paraang, a sharp crack splits the air behind us.
We freeze, and the soldiers tense and grip their weapons in case we are caught in an enemy’s sights. But a second later the culprit is found.
One of the soldiers from the Scots Guards battle group, performing a mandatory pre-patrol check to make sure his weapon is safe, had fired a bullet from his SA-80 assault rifle into the ground. It appears to have been accidentally left in the gun’s chamber after a previous outing – a breach of the rules.
Shaken, he is removed from the patrol. But his mistake is likely to lead to disciplinary action, docked wages and a plethora of unpleasant camp chores.
He will also need to regain face and the trust of his comrades.
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c42c92970b-800wi
Setting off again, we pad down the path, which runs past a field of tall corn stalks almost ready for harvesting, across a broad stream and past some compound walls. In recent years, this is the landscape the insurgents fought in but they look to have been driven out by fed-up locals won over by efforts of the British Army.
Sweating under the body armour and helmets, we arrive at the school to be met warmly by headmaster Ananulla and his five teachers.
‘Salaam Alaikum’, they say - a traditional Islamic welcome: 'Peace be with you' - placing their hand above their hearts. We return the greeting and enter the school, built first in 2004.
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c4248a970b-800wi
One of Major Birchall’s last acts was to clear the Taliban from Basharan, which he believed could become a model Afghan village, and his men took up the gauntlet, providing the school with electricity, new benches and desks and a fresh coat of paint.
Today we find several windows smashed during the summer holidays. Another piece of bad news is that Ismatullah, a village elder and one of Major Birchall’s closest allies is in hospital.
He was recently shot six times by suspected Taliban supporters and he requires an operation.
After chatting to the staff, it is time to say hello to the children, who are learning the local language Pashtu, maths, writing and English.
Around 40 are in a classroom, sitting quietly. They look up curiously as we enter.http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef013487e40a1e970c-800wi
Ananulla explains the reason for the visit and then it is time to hand out the goodies.
The first little boy, dressed in a white dish-dash, the traditional Afghan male dress, looks non-plussed as he is offered a green pencil. But his eyes light up as the bag of sweets are proffered.
That was a mistake. He snatches at the packet. He can hardly be blamed, though. It’s unlikely he has ever seen so many sweets before, and the idea of politely taking one is probably an alien concept.
His classmates, sitting in rows, lean closer. A second boy receives a few sweets and a pencil. A clamour is growing.
By the time I reach the end of the first row of benches, I am surrounded by a maelstrom of bodies, buffeted by the pushing, shoving children as they call for sweets. Little hands are thrust upwards, imploringly, for chews.
One of the teachers eventually rides to the rescue. He takes the boxes of pencils and bags of sweets and carries them to a safe place. In future they will be handed out one by one as rewards for good schoolwork.
But in sober reminder of the danger still facing ordinary Afghans, as soon as the camera is lifted most of the children cover their faces with shawls, books and bags.
'They are frightened the Taliban will beat them if they find out they are coming to a coalition school,' said their teacher.
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c42578970b-800wi (http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c42578970b-pi)
Before we leave, Ananulla asks the children to make a gesture to the school’s guests. He asks them to raise their fingers in the air – the sign of a pledge – and promise ‘not to be terrorists’, explains Sayib, the Army interpreter.
Maybe they forget because as we stride away from the school, some of the more boisterous pupils shout ‘Taliban good! Taliban good!’ It’s impossible to say whether they are repeating views they have heard from their fathers and uncles, or simply making mischief like children the world over.
But one man, Commander Israel, a local police chief, has no doubt who is ‘good’.
‘Local people were very happy about Major Sean,’ he says. ‘Before, the Taliban were in Basharan and there was no peace. He came and the Taliban disappeared and left us alone and he helped reopen the school. ‘He was a really brave person. He was a hero.’
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c426a3970b-800wi (http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c426a3970b-pi)
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef013487e40f1d970c-800wi (http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef013487e40f1d970c-pi)
Photography by Jamie Wiseman for The Daily Mail
01 October 2010 11:35 AM
THE LEGACY OF MAJOR SEAN
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c4b866970b-320wi (http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c4b866970b-pi) A mini-riot seems to have broken out at the village school.
Wide-eyed pupils are jostling, shrieking, clambering on benches, clawing frantically with tiny hands. Teachers struggle in vain to calm the classroom of jabbering children.
What has sent the youngsters, aged just 7 to 9, into such a frenzy? A few fruit sweets, ballpoint pens and coloured pencils. For inexpensive things which are commonplace to kids in Britain are like gold-dust in remote parts of Afghanistan.
Bearing gifts, we have visited a school in Basharan that re-opened last year after being shut when Taliban militants executed its headmaster. Today, it has around 200 pupils. Its champion, the man who fought tirelessly to give local children a place to learn to read, write and do maths, was Major Sean Birchall.
He is seen by people in the area as a hero. But, tragically, the popular Welsh Guards officer never had the pleasure of seeing the fruits of his efforts.
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c4184e970b-800wi
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c41ab6970b-800wi
For the married father-of-one was killed by an enemy roadside bomb before the school opened its doors.
But Major Birchall's legacy lives on. Not only is the school thriving, but from beyond the grave he has saved the lives of countless fellow soldiers.
Inspired by the much-loved officer, killed aged just 33, the community has turned against the Taliban.In March, one parent tipped off the 1st Battalion Scots Guards that insurgents had seeded a key road they were working to open with deadly improvised explosive devices (IEDs). Each of the 10 booby-traps the Afghan father pointed out under cover of darkness could have killed several UK soldiers.
Since then, grateful parents and children have formed closer bonds with the troops and routinely tip them off if they see anything or anyone suspicious.
Such is their vigilance that the Taliban have not returned to the area and more and more youngsters are travelling greater distances for an education which, with luck, will help battle-scarred Afghanistan to a brighter future.
Carrying a rucksack full of blue pens, colouring pencils and penny chews, photographer Jamie Wiseman and I join the Scots Guards on a foot patrol to the school.
Even though there have been no attacks in Basharan recently, insurgents have refused to desert the surrounding area.
The hazy peace of the morning is repeatedly shattered by the rapid rattle of machinegun fire.
Three or so miles away, Taliban fighters are targeting bomb disposal experts trying to clear a huge IED planted in the middle of a crucial route. It was intended to murder and maim British soldiers.
It is mid-morning and the sun beats down relentlessly. As the troops begin to walk down the dusty path outside Patrol Base Tapa Paraang, a sharp crack splits the air behind us.
We freeze, and the soldiers tense and grip their weapons in case we are caught in an enemy’s sights. But a second later the culprit is found.
One of the soldiers from the Scots Guards battle group, performing a mandatory pre-patrol check to make sure his weapon is safe, had fired a bullet from his SA-80 assault rifle into the ground. It appears to have been accidentally left in the gun’s chamber after a previous outing – a breach of the rules.
Shaken, he is removed from the patrol. But his mistake is likely to lead to disciplinary action, docked wages and a plethora of unpleasant camp chores.
He will also need to regain face and the trust of his comrades.
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c42c92970b-800wi
Setting off again, we pad down the path, which runs past a field of tall corn stalks almost ready for harvesting, across a broad stream and past some compound walls. In recent years, this is the landscape the insurgents fought in but they look to have been driven out by fed-up locals won over by efforts of the British Army.
Sweating under the body armour and helmets, we arrive at the school to be met warmly by headmaster Ananulla and his five teachers.
‘Salaam Alaikum’, they say - a traditional Islamic welcome: 'Peace be with you' - placing their hand above their hearts. We return the greeting and enter the school, built first in 2004.
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c4248a970b-800wi
One of Major Birchall’s last acts was to clear the Taliban from Basharan, which he believed could become a model Afghan village, and his men took up the gauntlet, providing the school with electricity, new benches and desks and a fresh coat of paint.
Today we find several windows smashed during the summer holidays. Another piece of bad news is that Ismatullah, a village elder and one of Major Birchall’s closest allies is in hospital.
He was recently shot six times by suspected Taliban supporters and he requires an operation.
After chatting to the staff, it is time to say hello to the children, who are learning the local language Pashtu, maths, writing and English.
Around 40 are in a classroom, sitting quietly. They look up curiously as we enter.http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef013487e40a1e970c-800wi
Ananulla explains the reason for the visit and then it is time to hand out the goodies.
The first little boy, dressed in a white dish-dash, the traditional Afghan male dress, looks non-plussed as he is offered a green pencil. But his eyes light up as the bag of sweets are proffered.
That was a mistake. He snatches at the packet. He can hardly be blamed, though. It’s unlikely he has ever seen so many sweets before, and the idea of politely taking one is probably an alien concept.
His classmates, sitting in rows, lean closer. A second boy receives a few sweets and a pencil. A clamour is growing.
By the time I reach the end of the first row of benches, I am surrounded by a maelstrom of bodies, buffeted by the pushing, shoving children as they call for sweets. Little hands are thrust upwards, imploringly, for chews.
One of the teachers eventually rides to the rescue. He takes the boxes of pencils and bags of sweets and carries them to a safe place. In future they will be handed out one by one as rewards for good schoolwork.
But in sober reminder of the danger still facing ordinary Afghans, as soon as the camera is lifted most of the children cover their faces with shawls, books and bags.
'They are frightened the Taliban will beat them if they find out they are coming to a coalition school,' said their teacher.
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c42578970b-800wi (http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c42578970b-pi)
Before we leave, Ananulla asks the children to make a gesture to the school’s guests. He asks them to raise their fingers in the air – the sign of a pledge – and promise ‘not to be terrorists’, explains Sayib, the Army interpreter.
Maybe they forget because as we stride away from the school, some of the more boisterous pupils shout ‘Taliban good! Taliban good!’ It’s impossible to say whether they are repeating views they have heard from their fathers and uncles, or simply making mischief like children the world over.
But one man, Commander Israel, a local police chief, has no doubt who is ‘good’.
‘Local people were very happy about Major Sean,’ he says. ‘Before, the Taliban were in Basharan and there was no peace. He came and the Taliban disappeared and left us alone and he helped reopen the school. ‘He was a really brave person. He was a hero.’
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c426a3970b-800wi (http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef0133f4c426a3970b-pi)
http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef013487e40f1d970c-800wi (http://anmblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341c565553ef013487e40f1d970c-pi)
Photography by Jamie Wiseman for The Daily Mail