This story and its photographs are the copywrite of the Australian Department of Defence. Permission to reproduce may be sought from the Editor, Army Newspaper Unit by contacting armynews@defencenews.gov.au

The following story was filed by Cpl Brian Hartigan following a twelve-day trip to Bougainville and was published in ARMY Magazine in December 1998 under the title:

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JOHN was a school teacher in a small village on the south-western coast of Bougainville. He was unaware and largely uninterested in the trouble brewing in similar-sized villages around the contentious Panguna copper mine in the centre of his tropical island. News reports came through with regular monotony of attacks on the mine, its equipment and its workers. But all that seemed a world away until one day, for no apparent reason (and indeed there may have been no legitimate reason), John's village was attacked by elements of Bougainville's resistance movement, natives loyal to the PNG Government.

John led his family, friends and students into nearby jungle to escape the frenzied attack and watched from the distance as the village was systematically destroyed.

In a sad twist of faith and confused logic it was assumed by all sides that because John's village was attacked by resistance fighters then the village must have been affiliated with the other side -- the Bougainville Revolutionary Army (BRA). That assumption brought the homeless refugees under attack from the PNG Defence Force (PNGDF).

Thus it happened that a simple school teacher was drawn, reluctantly, into a war he had no desire to fight and cast as a leader to his people. John and his 'army' settled into survival mode in the hills of their native land, fighting not only for survival against armed countrymen but forced to go back to basics -- surviving off the land.

John's 'army' adopted a purely defensive stance in their hillside shelters, fighting fiercely and courageously for their lives, in the process killing many government troops sent to flush them out.

As time went by John tired of the hopeless situation of his people and began to seek involvement in the peace process slowly gaining momentum on the island. At a school concert, 12 of John's men were singing to a gathering of local villagers, equally fed up with the trouble, when they were fired upon from the rear of the building. Six men died and the hard road to peace took its first major U-turn.

On another occasion he sent an emissary to a local PNGDF outpost with a message of reconciliation. The unarmed ambassador was shot dead on sight.

Yet another attempt at a settlement was initiated by the PNGDF when they sent an invitation to John and his people to join in the latest round of talks. Two men were dispatched with letters of acceptance but were gunned down before delivering their message of peace.

In nearly 10 years as leader of a dispossessed people, John lost not a single soul to the ravages of war but lost nine men in the pursuit of peace.

His story is but one on an island where the whole truth may never be known. But it serves as a vivid illustrator of the confusion and mistrust that developed between the many sides of a sad and destructive civil war.

Thanks to the tenacity and courage of men like John, on all sides, all around the island, peace on Bougainville is at last tangible.

With the signing of the Lincoln Agreement earlier this year, all that remains is to negotiate the mechanisms by which peace may take permanent root and the people of Bougainville can settle down to a normal life.

Pivotal to this process is the involvement of the multinational Peace Monitoring Group (PMG). The PMG is a 300-strong coalition of Australian, New Zealand, Fijian and Ni Vanuatu defence force and civilian personnel committed to peace for Bougainville. It consists of a large logistic-support element based at Loloho and five monitoring teams (MTs) scattered throughout the island. One such team, MT Tonu, covers 100 by 40kms of mostly flat, coastal land rising to rugged, mountainous terrain.

They patrol the AO six days a week by foot, 4WD and helicopter. The team must keep the inhabitants informed of the latest developments in the peace process and in doing so, dispel malicious and dangerous rumour mongering by the few remaining elements bent, for their own selfish reasons, on disrupting progress.

Operations officer for MT Tonu, Maj Tony Darlington says the team's mission is to constantly display the neutral, unarmed aspect of the PMG down to grass-roots level.

"The combined nations' approach to every patrol lends credibility to the information we provide," Maj Darlington says.

"We keep the locals informed of the latest developments, facilitate and attend meetings and generally do what we can to ensure all goes smoothly."

He says the team's safety is directly proportional to its success in fostering the peace process.

"The fact that we operate without weapons is never underestimated but through our own and our predecessors efforts, the various factions have sufficient confidence in us to forewarn of impending problems and at times head off problems before they get within range."

On a recent visit to the island I patroled with members of MT Tonu and was surprised and educated by the efforts of the team on what turned out to be a not-so-typical day.

Despite the haste of the newly laid plans, nothing was left to chance. Options were discussed and solutions arrived at for every conceivable outcome ranging from coming under attack to having mechanical problems. For safety, a second vehicle and two more personnel were added to the patrol, which set out on time -- despite the last minute changes --  at 8am. The patrol was also accompanied by a local guide.

The first stop on the road was to visit the local PNGDF commander to pick his brains for information on the shooting incident. But as it turned out his knowledge of events was very limited at that stage. He and his men had recently been curtailed from active patrolling in deference to the fragile peace process and as such were as reliant on outside information as anyone else.

A young boy from a neighbouring village was in town with a bunch of his mates drinking Hom Bru (the locally distilled illicit alcohol). They had become rowdy and abusive, eventually molesting a woman on her way to the local health care facility. The woman was verbally abused, pushed around and prodded with a bush knife and her cries for help summoned the local constabulary who fired at the boys, wounding one in the leg.

After half an hour of clarifications on Phillip's story he led us to the local constabulary compound. This was a complex of bunkers half dug into the ground and covered by a traditional banana-leaf roof. The room/bunker we were shown into served as the kitchen and featured a large open fireplace and heavy wooden table. Here, Inoch, the officer who fired the telling shot, his chief and interested onlookers settled in to a long and detailed nutting out of the facts, from the police point of view.

The assault on the woman happened as stated but Inoch did not go to her rescue. In fact the original incident was separated from the shooting by several hours and at the time of the shooting Inoch was unaware of the damsel's distress. The shooting happened after Inoch was personally taunted from across the river by the youths. Inoch fired out of frustration and anger, from the riverbank.

While the police were being interview by two patrol members, the rest of the patrol was conversing with the villagers and playing with the children.

One villager of considerable age and wearing military medals on his chest attempted, through language difficulties, to explain that he was a veteran of the "big pella pight" (big fella fight -- WW2) and fought as an Australian soldier in the Australian Intelligence Service (later checks through the Central Army Records Office substantiated his claims). The lovable old man could not answer the question of his age, "How many Christmas blong u?" and was happy enough to concede "plenty Christmas."

Time came to seek out the injured party. With a second guide on board, the patrol set off for the next village north, the road becoming more and more unlike a road as the journey progressed. In fact there was no road at all in many places, with the rocky riverbed doubling as the accepted navigable route. This was not always the case, however, as the remains of a once-substantial bridge lay testimony to the wider destruction of the island's infrastructure.

Inoch chased the boys out of town and followed them across the river. At the time of the wounding, Inoch had fired two deliberate shots followed by two bursts of automatic fire from an M16.

Mark's wounds did not seem to substantiate his claims, however, for although he did have a single entry/exit wound they were far too small and neat for a high-powered assault rifle. On the other hand it was also hard to comprehend that a single 12-gauge pellet would have sufficient power to cause an exit wound. The plot thickened.

Delegates from the village were also to make the journey to Boku in an attempt to negotiate an amicable conclusion to the tense situation (Mark and his village were BRA, thus making him a recent enemy to the constabulary). It was felt prudent that advantage be taken of the stabilising presence of the PMG patrol to chair the meeting.

With Mark placed in the care of the local health volunteer, the tense negotiation got under way. Phillip chaired a well-ordered meeting with both sides having ample opportunity to present its case.

After nearly two hours of reasoned debate, it was finally agreed Inoch would forfeit the equivalent of several months wages to Mark's family by way of compensation; the police would not carry weapons on routine patrols, only bringing them out when the situation warranted; and the village elders, for their part, would double their efforts to stem the consumption of Hom Bru. Everyone was happy, with the possible exception of Inoch.

"Another day, another dollar. Who's turn to cook dinner?"

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