Oyster card in hand, student from London fights for the rebels in Libya

A London student who flew to Libya to fight Colonel Gaddafi today said the rebels cannot overthrow the regime without more military support.

Housain Bairahiem, who 10 days ago was studying dentistry at a London college, is now at the front of the ragtag army engaged in a bloody battle amid the sand dunes outside the regime-controlled town of Ajdabiyah.

He is fighting alongside cooks, taxi drivers and builders led by a solitary colonel who defected at the start of the uprising and is struggling - and often failing - to keep them in order.

Mr Bairahiem carries not only his Kalashnikov but in his breast pocket a London Underground Oyster card as a reminder of the life he gave up to go toe-to-toe with the Libyan army's highly trained soldiers and their modern equipment.

"The Gaddafi men are not running yet," he said, as wide-eyed young men armed to the teeth raced past in beaten- up cars and pick-up trucks. "They still shell us and have tanks. They continue to fight. My friends are dying here." When asked how they can achieve victory, he said: "We wait for air support."

He is just one of the thousands of volunteers that the West is relying upon to break Gaddafi's stranglehold on his country. But, as the Standard witnessed as it joined them on the advance on Ajdabiyah, it is an army which is chronically under-trained, although fuelled by bravery and fervour.

It was on March 12 that Mr Bairahiem, 31, decided he could not stay in Britain while his countrymen fought for their freedom. Born in Benghazi, he had been living in Lillie Road in Fulham for the last 18 months as he completed his studies.

While there he became a Chelsea football fan, spent his time going to the sights and Hyde Park with his friends, watched EastEnders whenever he could and met an English Muslim girl who he fell in love with and became engaged to.

But as the war turned against the uprising and Gaddafi's troops started advancing relentlessly towards the rebel de-facto capital of Benghazi he realised he had to join the uprising.

"My fiancée was crying when I told her," he said. "I explained I had to go and in the end she understood, though I know she worries about me every day. I love her and l loved my life in London. But this is my country and I have to fight."

He flew to Cairo and travelled overland to Benghazi, where he was placed with another group of volunteers being sent to the front. Military training was a two-hour lesson on how to fire, load and maintain his AK-47.

Since then he has been in the fighting almost every day. "I have seen friends killed," he said. "I have been shelled. I have killed people myself. Yesterday we ambushed three soldiers outside Ajdabiyah. This is war."

His comrades are all similarly amateur fighters. They call themselves the "shabab", or the "youth", and go into battle in cars or in pick-up trucks holding mounted machine-guns.

All those whom the Standard talked to are proudly Muslim but make clear they are even more proud to be fighting for freedom and democracy.

Some wear cast-off military clothes. Most are dressed like civilians in motley jeans, hoodies and T-shirts. Mr Bairahiem was going to fight in a Nike woolly hat and adidas trainers.

With him in his blue sedan car was Hussein Farsi, 27, who works as a builder, and Adel Farsi, a cook at a hotel in Benghazi. None had been given their orders for the day. They had simply been told to head to the front and find a man called Bahir who would give them their instructions.

It is this lack of command and control that is particularly hampering the rebel forces. All this morning and the previous day, rebel troops were piling forward but few had much knowledge of what they were meant to achieve.

Yesterday a group burst straight towards Ajdabiya having heard rumours that Gaddafi's troops had fled the city. They were ambushed, turning their column into a chaos of honking horns and desperate three-point turns.

By the time they reached the safety of the nearest rebel-controlled checkpoint a number were dead or injured. A grave for one was dug immediately by the side of the road, its headstone a slab of concrete pulled from a pile of rubble.

The rebels do have some military officers. Near the front line Colonel Abdul Osman was in his Libyan army fatigues seeking to give direction, the bags under his eyes betraying a chronic lack of sleep.

A few men - the ones among the best equipped - were taking his orders. Others did not stop to acknowledge his presence.

Despite the chaos and confusion, progress has been made. Although Gaddafi's men are still believed to be in control of Ajdabiyah, the surrounding areas have been cleared of his snipers and the city partly surrounded, with fighting now focused at the north and south gates.

It was to the north gate that Housain Bairahiem was going. When asked if he was frightened, he laughed and said No. When asked if his family worried about him, he said they were proud he was fighting for their country.

But before his car pulled away, he admitted his mother did have a concern. Reaching into his backpack, he produced a pile of dentistry textbooks. "I have an exam on April 4," he said. "She is worried I am not doing enough studying and insists that I have them with me so that I when I am not fighting I can prepare. Let us pray this is over in time for me to get back to London to sit it."