AMID the thunder of gunfire and the acrid smell of burning, Mohamed Fofana ran for his life. Earlier that fateful day in 1998, the rebels had descended on his village in the north of Sierra Leone.

Twenty-eight of his friends and neighbours had been captured, and the remainder were caught in a terrible dilemma - to face capture or to brave the gunfire and make a run for it. In the same moment that the machine guns began their rhythmic tirade, instinct took over and those who could began pounding across the dry earth running blindly towards a hoped-for salvation.

It was as Mohamed, 25, was making his escape, adrenaline pumping and his head bowed against the stream of bullets, that he was hit.

The single shot entered the underside of his arm, ripped through the flesh and bone, and came out of the other side, where it traced a path across his cheek and into the rim of his eye.

Now he is among more than 200 casualties living at Grafton war wounded camp, Hastings, near the capital city of Freetown. Like the others, he drifted here after receiving piecemeal medical treatment. With the prospect of surgery unlikely, he will probably be disfigured for the rest of his life.

The father-of-five, who includes his teenage sister and her baby among his dependants, hides his scars beneath dark sunglasses.

Yet, like most of the camp's residents, he is happy to expose them to the camera when requested, and will share his most painful memories as if recounting something trivial.

Mohamed is well-known to members of the Second Battalion, the Light Infantry (2LI), who accompany us on the visit. They liaise with Padre Moses Kargbo, the camp chaplain, to offer whatever assistance they can and are greeted warmly whenever they arrive.

For our driver, Private Ian Thompson, known as Tomo, from Hebburn, South Tyneside, the sight of Mohamed's injuries is new to him, and he is visibly moved by it. He says simply, "You are very brave."

Since arriving in June, 2LI, which recruits mainly from the North-East, has fulfilled two functions in Sierra Leone; its official task of training the Sierra Leonean army to defend the country and a less obvious, but equally valuable humanitarian role.

Whether bringing donations from their families back home or challenging the locals to football matches, the soldiers are forging relationships, promoting kindness by example, and most importantly, showing that they care.

It will be hard for them to leave the country next month knowing that with the slightest glitch, it could revert to the civil war that has plagued it for a decade.

Captain David Hamilton, 43, from Spennymoor, County Durham, says: "I would be happy to stay here for the next two years, but the British Government is committed all over the world, and we can't make this a protracted stay."

One of those who will be sorry to see the battalion leave is Francis Josiah, the camp chairman. The ravages of bullets have left the 47-year-old crippled, but he is an intelligent and dignified man, and is keen to secure whatever help he can for the camp's residents.

As we sit together outside the hut he shares with his wife and five children, he lines up casualty after casualty for me to interview, each with a story more terrible than the last.

I am taken inside by women who, in the dim light, show me scars that divide their abdomens in two and cancel out any prospect of childbearing. A young man whose arm is mottled with pink and white describes how the rebels locked him in a house and tried to burn him alive, and another with a gnarled and useless wrist explains that this is the work of a blunt machete.

Francis wants people to see and hear these things. He has written to his own g overnment appealing for help but with the country in post-war chaos, he realises there is little it can do.

He says: "The pain for the war wounded is unlimited. We need an orthopaedic surgeon to review all the cases and we need medicine and quality education for the children. I think if the children were educated, we would divert ourselves from this kind of carnage."

His sentiments are echoed by 2LI's commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Peter Davies MBE, a Durham University graduate.

He says: "There is a moral component to what we are doing. We are educating people and giving them an idea of the Geneva Convention. Sierra Leone is capable of standing on its own two feet and I'm reasonably confident that we have set so many systems in place, peace will win through."

As it prepares to return home from this beautiful yet troubled country, 2LI can only hope he is right.