Paratroopers defeat Taliban in decisive day of battles - Telegraph

Paratroopers have defeated the Taliban in a decisive day of battles in fighting similar to scenes from the Second World War. A day of heavy fighting left 25 insurgents dead in a former haven in northern Nad-e-Ali district of Helmand. The story of the Battle of Washiran can be told for the first time after soldiers described the assault to The Daily Telegraph.
Surveillance first identified eight fighters readying their weapons for attack in a compound that was targetted by RAF Tornado with a 500lb satellite guided bomb. The Paras were then ordered to fight through the village but met with fierce enemy resistance and roads laced with hidden IEDs (Improvised Explosive Device). Lt Sam Whitlam, commanding 5 Platoon, B Company, 3 Para, decided to outflank the Taliban fighters by moving a troop of Mastiff armoured vehicles through fields free of IEDs. By mid-afternoon a hole was punched in the first of four compound walls by engineers using an anti-tank mine. The 27 ton, six-wheeled Mastiffs punched through the gap the infantry followed behind immediately coming under heavy fire from machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades.
L/Cpl Andrew Wiltshire, 25, one of the Paras in the advance described it like a scene from the wartime drama Band of Brothers. "The blokes were ducking down behind the Mastiffs with rounds coming in hitting the sides. We were trudging through fields trying to keep up with the vehicles with mud clogging our boots. You certainly got an idea what it was like for an infantryman to be following a tank while under fire in World War Two. Either you stay behind it or you get shot."
With the Mastiffs ahead of him Lt Whitlam, 25, had to lead his men for 100 yard slog across an open field. As they got to a muddy patch in the middle a Taliban machine gun team opened up a short distance away to their left. "It was a nightmare, we were wading through mud up to our knees while putting rounds down on the enemy position," he said. Mortars dropped smoke grenades into the enemy bunker to "flush them out" and a few minutes later an American F15 jet screamed down making the first of three strafing runs landing cannon shells 50 yards from the soldiers. "The rounds were literally snapping over our heads," said Lt Whitlam. "But we are Para Reg so we went forward and finished the job." By 8pm, as darkness covered the picturesque landscape of irrigation ditches lined by trees, the soldiers had taken compounds that had been the enemy stronghold for months.
Just two miles away Lt Col James Coates, the commanding officer of 3 Para, was in town of Naqilebad Kulay with a small force holding a shura meeting with local elders. Well-trained and heavily armed Taliban withdraw from the village but were tracked by powerful aerial surveillance systems tracked them for an hour until two American A10 ground attack aircraft moved in. The aircraft made four passes sending 600 rounds into the Taliban leaving no survivors. Since the attack two weeks ago, there has been no sightings of the Taliban in the area. According to the Paras, locals have been able to go about normal business free from Taliban harassment as a result of the action. "That one big op on November 10th cleared it," said Lt Whitlam. "The locals were thanking us because they could now go and farm their field without being shot. We have broken the Taliban rule. There's been no attacks on the compound since when once they were daily."

Change or Perish

Before leggings, when there were letters, before texts and tweets, when there was time, before speed cameras, when you could speed, before graffiti management companies, when cities had souls, we managed just the same. 

Before homogenization, when there was mystery, before aggregation, when the original had value, before digital, when there was vinyl, before Made in China, when there was Mao, before stress management, when there was romance, we had the impression we were doing all right. 

Before apps, when there were attention spans, before “I’ve got five bars,” when bars were for boozing, before ring-tone selection, when the phone rang, before high-net-worth individuals, when love was all you needed, before hype, when there was Hendrix, we got by just the same. 

Before social media, when we were social, before thumb-typing, when a thumb hitched a ride, before de-friending, when a friend was for life, before online conduct, when you conducted yourself, before “content,” when we told stories, we did get by all the same. 

Before non-state actors, when states commanded, before the Bangalore back office, when jobs stayed put, before globalization, when wars were cold, we did manage O.K., it seemed. 

Before celebrities, when there were stars, before Google maps, when compasses were internal, before umbilical online-ism, when we off-lined our lives, before virtual flirtation, when legs touched, we felt we managed all the same. 

Before identity theft, when nobody could steal you, before global positioning systems, when we were lost, before 24/7 monitoring and alerts by text and e-mail, when there was idleness, before spin doctors, when there was character, before e-readers, when pages were turned, we did get by just the same. 

Before organic, when carrots weren’t categorized, before derivatives, when your mortgage was local, before global warming, when we feared nuclear winters, before “save the planet,” when we lived in our corners, before the Greens, when we faced the Reds, it seemed we did somehow manage just the same. 

Or did we? Before iPads and “Search,” in the era of print, before portable devices, when there were diaries, before the weather channel, when forecasts were farcical, before movies-on-demand, when movies were demanding, before chains and brands, in the time of the samizdat, before curved shower curtain rods, when they were straight, before productivity gains, when Britain produced things, and so did Ohio, did we really and honestly get by just the same? 

Before January cherries, when fruit had seasons, before global sushi, when you ate what you got, before deep-fried Mars bars, when fish were what fried, before New World wine, when wine was tannic, before fast food and slow food, when food just was, before plate-size cookies, when greed was contained, before fusion, in scattered division, before the obesity onslaught, in our ordinariness, could we — could we — have gotten by all the same? 

Before dystopia, when utopia beckoned, before rap, in Zappa’s time, before attention deficit disorders, when people turned on, before the new Prohibition, when lunches were liquid, before Lady Gaga, when we dug the Dead, before “join the conversation,” when things were disjointed, before Facebook, when there was Camelot, before reality shows, when things were real, yes, I believe we got by just the same. 

Before “I’ll call you back,” when people made dates, before algorithms, when there was aimlessness, before attitude, when there was apathy, before YouTube, when there was you and me, before Gore-Tex, in the damp, before sweat-resistant fabric, when sweat was sexy, before high-tech sneakers, as we walked the walk, before remotes, in the era of distance, I’m sure we managed just the same. 

Before “carbon neutral,” when carbon copied, before synching, when we lived unprompted, before multiplatform, when pen met paper, before profiling, when there was privacy, before cloud computing, when life was earthy, before a billion bits of distraction, when there were lulls, before “silent cars,” when there was silence, before virtual community, in a world with borders, before cut-and-paste, to the tap of the Selectra, before the megabyte, in disorder, before information overload, when streets were for wandering, before “sustainable,” in the heretofore, before CCTV, in invisibility, before networks, in the galaxy of strangeness, my impression, unless I’m wrong, is that we got by quite O.K. 

Before I forget, while there is time, for the years pass and we don’t get younger, before the wiring accelerates, while I can pause, let me summon it back, that fragment from somewhere, that phrase that goes: “The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionizing the instruments of production ... and with them the whole relations of society.” 

Yes, that was Marx, when he was right, before he went wrong, when he observed, before he imagined, with terrible consequences for the 20th century. 

And if back in that century — back when exactly? — in the time before the tremendous technological leap, in the time of mists and drabness and dreams, if back then, without passwords, we managed just the same, even in black and white, and certainly not in hi-def, or even 3-D, how strange to think we had to change everything or we would not be managing at all. 

From an article by Roger Cohen published in The New York Times on October 4, 2010 

Occupation or Preoccupation

Taking a flight may be a good way to take a break from work. However, it might not be the relaxation one is looking for when striking up a conversation. The first hurdle is how to answer the question, “What do you do for a living?” Revealing one’s gynaecologic occupation might open one up to intimate and familial questions that might be difficult to tackle and involve elaborate explanations. Some might even expect treatment on the spot.

Disclosing the line of work can also leave one vulnerable to legal and ethical considerations such as confidentiality issues. To avoid such situations, one might filter the truth about one’s work. Saying things like “I run a non-profit association” or “I’m a sociologist’ is an effective conversation-ender. Being a professional, and thinking myself as a decent human being, I feel that I should be truthful about what I do.

I personally have no such conflict. I feel that I should not have to hide my professional identity. Thus, I have no hesitation in revealing the proud and honourable nature of my trade. However, I think the most important motivation in this revelation may be the extra attention, peanuts and drinks from the stewardesses!

Motivated by an article by Liz Galzt in The New York Times 27 September 2010.

"Contraception dates back to ancient Egypt, where amorous couples relied on condoms made of linen. Yet after three millennia, although we can now intercept a missile in outer space, we’re often still outwitted by wandering sperm."

Nicholas Kristoff in The New York Times 25 September 2010

University Senates get the treatment

In this editorial in The Star, Dr Arzmi Yaacob, a management academic in a local university, outlines his idea that management staff in universities should be composed of professionals and not academics. While this is pertinent,  the heart of the matter is that the senates have lost their influence in matters at the core of a university's existence, academic excellence. Management now is more interested in prestige, politics and finance. No university will excel if academia is not its main goal, irrespective of who's running it.http://keptinslogs.blogspot.com/p/meded.html