...privileged to count chief reporter David Whitehead as a colleague.
David has a very personal connection to Southcliffe.
He was born and grew up there.
It's a place about which he cares deeply
and he knows many of those directly involved in the recent tragic events.
We go over to him now live at the town centre
for a unique perspective.
I come from this place.
A sleepy little English market town.
People don't commit mass murder in a town like this.
Close-knit, law-abiding community.
Uncomplicated souls...
good folk...
Anglo-Saxon England.
That's what it says on your television.
Is that what you think you are?
It isn't what I remember.
It's not what I see now.
'On behalf of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency
'at 12.05 on Monday 31st October 2011.
'There are warnings of gales in Shannon, Rockall, Malin,
'Hebrides, Bailey, Faeroes and South East Iceland.
'The general synopsis at midnight...'
What you got in there then?
It's treasure.
Can I take a look?
'..The area forecast for the next 24 hours,
'Viking, North Utsire, south-easterly five to seven, rain or showers,
'good, occasionally poor.
'South Utsire, southerly four or five,
'backing south-easterly five or six,
'moderate, occasionally poor...'
I want my bag back.
Yeah.
I want my bag.
'...part of their life for many, many years to come.
'This is a tool that will help them become more comfortable with electronics.
'For Mom and Dad to feel secure that it's a great learning tool for them
'and the kids are gonna have some fun at the same time.
'Exactly. I want to introduce you to Cassie...'
Mr Morton!
Mr Morton, are you there?
Woman from the council is looking for you.
OK. Thanks, Miss Price.
Urgent business, is it?
Maybe.
Our regiment has strong community links with Southcliffe.
On the war memorial are the names of the departed who served before us.
We must remember those soldiers who lost their lives
fighting on our behalf.
Yet when you're out there,
you sometimes don't feel you're getting much respect from back home.
But here, seeing this, it shows people appreciate what we're doing.
Welcome home, lads.
♪..You'd better change it back or we will both be sorry
♪ Don't you want me, baby?
♪ Don't you want me, oh-oh-oh?
♪ Don't you want me, baby?
♪ Don't you want me, oh-oh-oh? ♪
Cheers, mate.
How did you get on out there?
I know what it's like. Been there myself.
Right.
Northern Ireland, Afghanistan. Yeah?
Well, you're the don, ain't you?
I'm a what?
D'you wanna take me home? Eh?
Lead the way. I'm driving.
I think that's probably best.
Fuck off!
I know, but I'm proud.
I'm glad you are. Weird!
I didn't put up any decorations for you or anything
cos I just thought you would've had enough of all of it.
No, I love it. Yeah?
Yeah. It's home, innit?
Yeah.
I think you should go and take a nice hot shower.
'It's a river, I told you.
'Paxman would have got this by now. He would have done.
'Do you think Paxman would have sat next...?'
I asked three fucking nurses to help me with my back.
Not one did it in the end. Not one cleaned up my shit.
Don't let 'em beast you, mate.
We'll come through all right.
They crash about with their trolleys and stuff. Every bang sets me off.
Nurse, we need some assistance here, please.
What's the problem?
He needs painkillers.
You've had your painkillers.
Well, he needs more.
The pain team will be back on in a couple of hours.
I'll make sure someone talks to them then.
A couple of hours?
A word.
They say my military career's over.
That's bollocks.
Now, you're going to rest up, get fit and get out of this shithole.
Back to fucking Helmand.
All right, mate.
He can't stay on this ward with civilians.
We don't have a military section.
It's full of old people.
Your friend's already on the highest dosage of painkillers.
You know, sometimes these things can be more in the head.
That's fucking outrageous.
I used to dream of that. Yeah?
No, you're all right. It's on the commander.
Cheers, Jimmy.
Chris.
Stephen.
Commander?
Yeah, they use it as a joke. They think it's funny.
But they don't know, do they?
Afghanistan, you said. Special ops.
No way. The regiment?
Yeah, I was a lot fitter back then.
I bet you've got some stories.
Hmm.
I was with Andy McNab and his boys out in the Gulf.
Gulf War? You're not old enough for that, are you?
Oh, I'm old enough, all right.
You come through it OK then?
Yeah, I did.
Some didn't, though.
Don't get it, do they, civilians?
No.
Not even your wife, really.
Steady.
No disrespect.
You're right, though. They don't get it. Best fun you can have, innit?
It was... shit, obviously, but combat...
Ain't nothing like it.
What are you going to do with 38 days?
This and that.
Rest up, go nuts.
You fancy a bit of basic training.
You know, keep fit, that sort of thing...
let me know.
I gotta go.
Well, it was nice talking to you, Christopher.
All right, Stephen.
Oh! That's it, Mum.
- Come on now. - Claire?
There we are.
What's going on? Hello, Stephen.
There we are.
What's wrong? Stephen...
- No, you'll hurt her. - Ow!
It's fine, Stephen.
Give over, Claire. You're hurting her.
Lean on me.
Don't touch her hair.
Why don't you get some fresh sheets?
And a nightie. Yeah.
I feel like a dead pigeon.
There you are, Mother.
I met ten-year-old Latifah,
who had made the dangerous journey from Afghanistan alone.
Her parents had paid a high price
in the hope that she could find a better life in the West.
She's already tried more than ten times to climb into lorries
in her bid to get to England.
I couldn't have asked for it better.
If she was an actress, she wouldn't have done it better.
Yeah, yeah! Thank you, you beautiful immigrant woman,
with your real tears and your real pain.
Fuck you, CNN!
Eh? Fuck John Simpson.
Madge the Vag.
Hello, John Simpson's phone. Can I help, please?
Ah, yeah. I'll just see if he's free.
Hey, give it here.
Hey, Madge.
Thank you. I know.
Yeah, I know. Poor kids.
Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could do a follow-up
and see about those kids that didn't make it in.
Yeah?
Oh, well, have a think.
All right, thanks again, Madge.
OK, take care.
She loves me!
I should go.
The world's a shitty place.
You're just knackered, mate.
You want one for the road?
Christ, David.
I'll get a cab.
See you tomorrow.
David? You're on your way back, I guess.
I watched the news.
Well done, you.
See you after you've decompressed.
Bye now.
It's beautiful up here.
I did a lot of my training round here.
The SAS got a camp about three or four mile down that road.
Go see 'em if you want.
Yeah, you could get us in now?
A cup of tea, swap a few old stories.
That'd be great.
Get them to put you on isolation training. See how you do.
You never know, if you impress them...
SAS?
I think... I think Lou might have a few words to say about that.
She doesn't need to know, does she?
There you go, Mum.
Mum?
What do you reckon?
I'm gonna have to drop the flue liner down her, mate.
Yeah, really? Yeah.
Yeah, it's gonna be messy. She's an old chimney.
How much is that gonna cost me?
I don't know. I'll ask around.
Yeah, you do that, Commander.
What's wrong with that baby?
It's nothing. It's what they do.
Yeah?
You know the gate I fixed for you a while back?
Yes, mate.
Oh! Right, yeah, course. Sorry, I owe you...75, right?
Well, no. 100, you said.
Did I? Yeah.
OK then. 100.
I haven't got it on me this minute, have I?
It's just I'm a bit short at the moment.
Well, you want to cut back on the wank mags, don't you?
Wank mags?
I'll get it for this afternoon.
All right? I've got a few things on my mind right now.
Yeah, I'm sorry. Course.
Excuse me. Where's...?
Where's Jamie?
Your friend was moved to Queen Elizabeth's in Birmingham last night.
Why? What happened?
Do you want to sit down? Look, just...
tell me what happened.
There were complications.
He was very badly hurt.
Right.
So Birmingham?
He didn't make it.
I'm so sorry.
Fuck me!
Is it legal?
It is for me.
Rubber ammo. That's a single shot. Have a bit of fun.
So where are the lads?
Something went off.
Something went off where?
Can't tell you that.
So what are we doing here then, Commander?
Selection training. You wanna do it or not?
We're here.
20 degrees north.
That's the kill house.
That's your target. Off you go.
You got 20 minutes. I'll be the bad guy.
Fuckin' hell!
Ah!
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Hey!
Come back! I've fucked my knee!
Steve!
Agh! Fuck!
Mate, you need help.
'...took just weeks to eliminate the regime.'
'There were scenes of joy as the Afghan opposition swept into Kabul.'
'They went into Helmand in 2006.'
'Afghanistan has cost 382 British lives.' Babe, what are these?
'Some 2,750 from NATO countries in total.'
Why are you going through my stuff?
Why didn't you tell me you were taking them?
Just put them back where you found 'em.
Babe... Just put them back.
'There is widespread anger about civilian casualties caused by NATO.'
Lou?
Don't you ever go looking through my things again.
'...a target of these protesters' anger.'
'So Afghan forces are being trained, equipped'
'and massively increased in numbers.'
Shit!
OK, you don't need your brolly up. Come on - let's get you in the car.
Killer's coming.
He's all alone.
His head down.
All on his own.
Watch your step.
You can't cross.
I said, you can't cross.
Your dad's a murderer.
Killer! Your dad's a killer.
Your dad's a murderer. Your dad's a killer.
Get off!
Where's he going then? He's a killer.
'Part of the revenue is passed to the company
'providing the service to the receiver of the call.
'It's totally unacceptable for an organisation...'
All right, Christopher?
Yeah.
This is my uncle. He's ex-SAS.
22 Regiment. C Squadron.
Uncle Alan fancies joining us for training.
Don't know what you're on about.
22 SAS. You said that was your outfit, didn't you?
No-one called Stephen Morton ever served in the regiment.
Someone called Stephen Morton served in the Royal Artillery.
It was a long time ago.
But he failed SAS selection.
You can pick up a lot of gossip drinking tea with the lads on exercises.
No selection pass, no badge.
No postings, no official duties.
You're no SAS, mush.
Come on then, Commander.
Come on. What are you waiting for?
See you later, Jimmy.
Fucking look at him!
Let's make that cunt sweat.
Yeah, get up, you rabbit.
This'll fucking teach him to take the piss.
Fucking hell!
Run, rabbit, run!
You pick on my family.
You're a fucking sand nigger.
Waiting, are you?
You little fucking prick!
Run, rabbit! Run, rabbit!
All right, that's it, Al. He's had enough. It's done.
He's not had enough. He's not had e-fucking-nough by a long chalk.
Now, Chris...
None of this happened tonight, OK?
OK.
Good boy.
Oh, hello.
Here they are.
We've been waiting for you.
I can take my nephew for a pint, can't I, sis?
Yeah. Bringing him back is good.
Lou? Yeah, course. How are you?
All right. Good.
Sorry, sis. Sorry, girl.
What did you marry her for, Chris?
All right? You done all this for me?
If you'd arrived on time.
I'm worth it though.
Shall we get a drink? No drinks?
Want one?
I'll have one. All right, lovely.
You all right? Yeah.
Claire?
It's Stephen.
I...need to speak to you.
Close your eyes, Mum.
'Now the shipping forecast issued by the Met Office
'on behalf of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency
'at 05.05 on Wednesday 2nd November 2011.'