Team Infidel
Forum Spin Doctor
Columbia (SC) State
April 20, 2008
Pg. 1
Exclusive from Afghanistan
S.C. Guard soldiers say goodbye to orphans they adopted, after giving as much aid as they could
By Chuck Crumbo
KABUL, Afghanistan — The boys waved and offered a triumphant thumbs-up as five S.C. National Guard Humvees rolled through the orphanage gates.
When the vehicles stopped, the children surrounded them and pressed against the doors, barely giving the soldiers enough room to open the doors.
“Pen. Pen. Pen,” the boys shouted in English. “Soccer ball. Volleyball.”
The Palmetto State soldiers, on their final visit to the Tahai Maskan Orphanage, did their best to oblige.
Members of the Guard’s 218th Brigade Combat Team — which next week ends its yearlong tour of duty in Afghanistan — adopted the orphanage in August as one of several civil affairs projects.
The troops brought the children clothing, blankets, school supplies and sports equipment. They also fixed things at the orphanage — a roof on one building, electrical wiring, a pump, a floor, a drain.
The troops hope their good works will make life a little better for the 350 boys at the orphanage. But the soldiers also concede there’s much more that needs to be done.
“It’s great that we can bring a smile to the kids,” said Chief Warrant Officer Michael Byrd of Orangeburg, a grandfather of two. “I just wished we had more to give.”
Helping the children at Tahai Maskan has been a rewarding — and humbling — experience.
“It’s pretty remarkable,” said 1st Sgt. Ervin Capers of Eastover.
“You look at what our kids have,” Ervin said, offering a laundry list of electronic games, computers and cell phones. “Here, these kids are just praying to get a pen to write with.”
Big problem, few resources
Thirty years of war have left more than 1 million Afghan orphans, said Soraya Abdulla Hakim, president of the country’s Department of Orphanages.
The country, though, has few resources to cope with a problem of that magnitude.
Tahai Maskan is just one of 27 orphanages that the Afghan government operates, Hakim said. Only 10,000 children — about 1 in 100 orphans — live in government-sponsored orphanages.
The rest are in orphanages sponsored by charities and non-governmental organizations or live on the streets. Hakim’s agency estimates there are more than 38,000 homeless orphans in Kabul alone.
“We want to help every child over here,” said Sgt. 1st Class Terry Wessinger of Cayce. “But if we can help a few, we can help build a better nation for them and their children.”
'Here, I'm happy'
Although Spartan by U.S. standards, the orphanage’s buildings and grounds are lavish compared to the way most Afghans live.
There’s an orchard and garden, where the children grow fruits and vegetables. In stark contrast to the barren, rocky playgrounds found at the typical Afghan school, grass covers the soccer field.
The boys live in dormitories. Their bunks are made every morning and clothes hung up neatly in lockers.
The exteriors of the orphanage’s buildings are undergoing a major paint job. The orphanage also has a learning center and computer lab.
While most would consider the Ulhaq brothers unlucky, the three boys from Badakhshan province — in the county’s far northeast corner — think they’re fortunate to be at Tahai Maskan.
Six years ago, their father died when Taliban fighters attacked the mosque where he was praying, said 16-year-old Faz, the oldest. Because their mother had died earlier, the boys and their two sisters were orphaned.
First, the children went to live with an uncle, said Faz, who hopes to be a civil engineer “and help build our war-torn country.”
But the uncle, a farmer, couldn’t support all the children. The brothers wound up at the Tahai Maskan; their sisters remained with the uncle, Faz said.
Faz thinks things worked out for the best.
“When I lived with my uncle, I had to help on the farm all the time, herding cattle,” he said through an interpreter. “Here, I’m happy. I have freedom. I get to play. I’m getting a good education.”
Younger brothers, Zai, 13, and Noor, 12, also agreed they are better off.
“The happiest part of being here is that we’re living together,” said Zai, who wants to be a doctor.
Other boys, including Kamal Din Madyar, don’t remember living anywhere else.
Kamal was just a tot when his father, a colonel in the mujahedin, died fighting the Russians.
His mother remarried, but her new husband would not take in Kamal or his older brother.
The boys were left at an orphanage. At the time, Kamal was just 2.
Now 18, Kamal doesn’t feel sorry for himself. He’s looking forward to completing his education, finding a job as a computer programmer and, maybe, getting married.
He stays in touch with his brother, who is 20, and living on his own.
Stretching out his arms as if he were hugging the whole orphanage, Kamal said, “These are my brothers, too, all of these persons.”
Finding family
In August, when the S.C. troops made their first visit to the orphanage, Cayce’s Wessinger spent time talking with the boys, playing a little soccer and taking pictures with his digital camera.
One of the boys he took a picture of was Zai Ulhaq. Back at his base that night, Wessinger made a print of Zai’s picture. He looked into the boy’s face and started to cry, realizing just how much he missed his three sons, ages 10, 8 and 7.
“I don’t know why, but when I looked at him, I saw my middle son,” Wessinger said. “There was something in his eyes, the way he held himself that reminded me of my boy.”
The next time he went to the orphanage, Wessinger looked for Zai but couldn’t find him. The same thing happened on Wessinger’s third visit.
On the last trip, which was Friday, Wessinger took along the boy’s picture, asking around if anyone remembered Zai. “I was worried that he was gone or that something had happened to him,” Wessinger said.
The orphanage’s teachers quickly recognized Zai and pointed him out to Wessinger. That’s when Wessinger discovered that Zai had two brothers.
Wessinger spent time Friday with Zai and his brothers, posing for pictures and retelling the story of how he searched for the boy and found a family.
There were no tears, just smiles.
In a few weeks, Wessinger will leave Afghanistan and reunite with his wife and sons.
But he said Friday, “This experience has helped me cope with being away from my family.
“And it’s made me realize how much I have.”
April 20, 2008
Pg. 1
Exclusive from Afghanistan
S.C. Guard soldiers say goodbye to orphans they adopted, after giving as much aid as they could
By Chuck Crumbo
KABUL, Afghanistan — The boys waved and offered a triumphant thumbs-up as five S.C. National Guard Humvees rolled through the orphanage gates.
When the vehicles stopped, the children surrounded them and pressed against the doors, barely giving the soldiers enough room to open the doors.
“Pen. Pen. Pen,” the boys shouted in English. “Soccer ball. Volleyball.”
The Palmetto State soldiers, on their final visit to the Tahai Maskan Orphanage, did their best to oblige.
Members of the Guard’s 218th Brigade Combat Team — which next week ends its yearlong tour of duty in Afghanistan — adopted the orphanage in August as one of several civil affairs projects.
The troops brought the children clothing, blankets, school supplies and sports equipment. They also fixed things at the orphanage — a roof on one building, electrical wiring, a pump, a floor, a drain.
The troops hope their good works will make life a little better for the 350 boys at the orphanage. But the soldiers also concede there’s much more that needs to be done.
“It’s great that we can bring a smile to the kids,” said Chief Warrant Officer Michael Byrd of Orangeburg, a grandfather of two. “I just wished we had more to give.”
Helping the children at Tahai Maskan has been a rewarding — and humbling — experience.
“It’s pretty remarkable,” said 1st Sgt. Ervin Capers of Eastover.
“You look at what our kids have,” Ervin said, offering a laundry list of electronic games, computers and cell phones. “Here, these kids are just praying to get a pen to write with.”
Big problem, few resources
Thirty years of war have left more than 1 million Afghan orphans, said Soraya Abdulla Hakim, president of the country’s Department of Orphanages.
The country, though, has few resources to cope with a problem of that magnitude.
Tahai Maskan is just one of 27 orphanages that the Afghan government operates, Hakim said. Only 10,000 children — about 1 in 100 orphans — live in government-sponsored orphanages.
The rest are in orphanages sponsored by charities and non-governmental organizations or live on the streets. Hakim’s agency estimates there are more than 38,000 homeless orphans in Kabul alone.
“We want to help every child over here,” said Sgt. 1st Class Terry Wessinger of Cayce. “But if we can help a few, we can help build a better nation for them and their children.”
'Here, I'm happy'
Although Spartan by U.S. standards, the orphanage’s buildings and grounds are lavish compared to the way most Afghans live.
There’s an orchard and garden, where the children grow fruits and vegetables. In stark contrast to the barren, rocky playgrounds found at the typical Afghan school, grass covers the soccer field.
The boys live in dormitories. Their bunks are made every morning and clothes hung up neatly in lockers.
The exteriors of the orphanage’s buildings are undergoing a major paint job. The orphanage also has a learning center and computer lab.
While most would consider the Ulhaq brothers unlucky, the three boys from Badakhshan province — in the county’s far northeast corner — think they’re fortunate to be at Tahai Maskan.
Six years ago, their father died when Taliban fighters attacked the mosque where he was praying, said 16-year-old Faz, the oldest. Because their mother had died earlier, the boys and their two sisters were orphaned.
First, the children went to live with an uncle, said Faz, who hopes to be a civil engineer “and help build our war-torn country.”
But the uncle, a farmer, couldn’t support all the children. The brothers wound up at the Tahai Maskan; their sisters remained with the uncle, Faz said.
Faz thinks things worked out for the best.
“When I lived with my uncle, I had to help on the farm all the time, herding cattle,” he said through an interpreter. “Here, I’m happy. I have freedom. I get to play. I’m getting a good education.”
Younger brothers, Zai, 13, and Noor, 12, also agreed they are better off.
“The happiest part of being here is that we’re living together,” said Zai, who wants to be a doctor.
Other boys, including Kamal Din Madyar, don’t remember living anywhere else.
Kamal was just a tot when his father, a colonel in the mujahedin, died fighting the Russians.
His mother remarried, but her new husband would not take in Kamal or his older brother.
The boys were left at an orphanage. At the time, Kamal was just 2.
Now 18, Kamal doesn’t feel sorry for himself. He’s looking forward to completing his education, finding a job as a computer programmer and, maybe, getting married.
He stays in touch with his brother, who is 20, and living on his own.
Stretching out his arms as if he were hugging the whole orphanage, Kamal said, “These are my brothers, too, all of these persons.”
Finding family
In August, when the S.C. troops made their first visit to the orphanage, Cayce’s Wessinger spent time talking with the boys, playing a little soccer and taking pictures with his digital camera.
One of the boys he took a picture of was Zai Ulhaq. Back at his base that night, Wessinger made a print of Zai’s picture. He looked into the boy’s face and started to cry, realizing just how much he missed his three sons, ages 10, 8 and 7.
“I don’t know why, but when I looked at him, I saw my middle son,” Wessinger said. “There was something in his eyes, the way he held himself that reminded me of my boy.”
The next time he went to the orphanage, Wessinger looked for Zai but couldn’t find him. The same thing happened on Wessinger’s third visit.
On the last trip, which was Friday, Wessinger took along the boy’s picture, asking around if anyone remembered Zai. “I was worried that he was gone or that something had happened to him,” Wessinger said.
The orphanage’s teachers quickly recognized Zai and pointed him out to Wessinger. That’s when Wessinger discovered that Zai had two brothers.
Wessinger spent time Friday with Zai and his brothers, posing for pictures and retelling the story of how he searched for the boy and found a family.
There were no tears, just smiles.
In a few weeks, Wessinger will leave Afghanistan and reunite with his wife and sons.
But he said Friday, “This experience has helped me cope with being away from my family.
“And it’s made me realize how much I have.”