Sunday, bloody Sunday

Extract from 'Sunday Bloody Sunday - A Soldier's War in Northern Ireland, Rhodesia, Mozambique and Iraq'
This happened just days before the end of the war. I was struggling with my own PTSD problem. Thank the Lord, I didn't hit a mine as these guys did.

" Pete Lawrence was driving when we rounded a bend and the front left wheel hit the mine. Fortunately, I was sitting in the back of the vehicle and I got blown clear, flying metres into the air and landing on one of my arms and on my knees. I didn’t feel anything at the time but there was an instant hush around us as everything went silent. Through the haze and confusion I really didn’t know what had hit me, but I felt like I might have felt the morning after a serious night out.

It seemed as if everything was in slow motion, as I crawled to the side of the road looking for the others around me. Huge clods of earth were raining down and the acrid sulphur of explosive was stinging my nostrils. I distinctly remember looking down the valley and watching a huge black cloud drifting away with the prevailing wind.

When I realised what had happened, my first instinct was to prepare for a follow-through ambush. Surprisingly I was still grasping my rifle in my left hand and I was trying to switch the safety catch to fire but struggling to do so. I couldn’t feel my right hand but there was no other pain. I placed the rifle between my knees and fumbled with my good hand and was eventually successful.

When I looked up I could taste blood and grit in my mouth. The smoke had cleared and there were bodies lying everywhere. A high-pitched drone hummed in my ears. There was a huge crater from the explosion and the vehicle was lying next to it, half in and half out the hole. I got up to ascertain the damage.

Suttil was walking around in a confused state. He was holding his arm and there was blood and snot hanging out of his nose in huge balloons. Every time he breathed a big snot globule would expand from his nose like the bulbous throat of a croaking frog. From head to toe he was covered in thick black soot. He didn’t have his weapon as it had been crushed in the blast. We would later discover that he had crushed ribs and a broken collar bone as well. He was lucky to have been in the back with me.

The three guys in the front were really messed up. Gerry Webster of the BSAP had two shattered legs. As I approached him I saw bones sticking out of his tattered flesh and uniform. He was in extreme pain and grimaced bravely. I comforted him for a few seconds before I reached Grant.

He was under the vehicle. He had somehow managed to switch places and the vehicle had landed on top of him. Pete Lawrence was unconscious and was lying in the road next to him. Both his eyes were bulging like obese cricket balls, swollen and purple. He was covered in blood and thick dark oil. All of us were black from the residue of the blast.

Being the least injured I quickly gathered my wits. In a futile attempt, I looked around for the jack to try and lift the vehicle off Grant. He was conscious and moaning. I couldn’t find it so I went in search of a loose log to use as a lever, but couldn’t find anything suitable. Eventually I called Suttil to the vehicle and got him to hold under the hood of the engine. I told Grant that on the count of three we would lift and he was to pull himself clear. I counted to three and Ian and I strained with our injuries, lifting the Land-Rover clear of Grant while he inched himself backwards. With every centimetre he gained his face contorted with enormous pain. He had a broken pelvis, broken ribs, and a broken arm and nose. Lucky the terrs didn’t ambush us after the explosion. I had managed to keep my rifle without letting go of it once, except when we lifted the vehicle, but with the concussion I was feeling, I don’t think I would have put up a defence.

While we waited for a casevac I had to give Grant a Sosegon jab so he wouldn’t go into shock and also to help him with the pain. When I’d sucked the ampoule dry, I flicked the syringe before stabbing the needle through his skin. For some reason I couldn’t depress the plunger so I had to use my left hand. I got it in eventually, but it was a clumsy, uncoordinated fumble. I was distressed that I was causing him more discomfort but I was not as distressed as he was. Despite his pain he still found the humour to ridicule my attempts at nursing him: ‘C’mon Jake, surely you are used to jabbing things with your prick?’ I didn’t find it funny at the time.

‘You should get more used to your left hand, Jake. You never know when you’ll be unable to use your right.’ His inference was phallic. While I was acting medic, a vehicle arrived from the farm. They had heard the explosion and came to investigate. Luckily they had a radio and called for the medivac.

When the chopper arrived I was left behind due to the less threatening nature of my injuries. The other lads were carried, or climbed aboard, the helicopter and lifted off. A team of medical staff arrived from Concession and a nurse came over to me where I was lying on the side of the road. She put a cigarette in my mouth and told me it would soothe my nerves. I tried to tell her that I didn’t smoke but she was insistent so the cigarette just dangled from my lips.

I eventually got a lift to Ian Fleming Hospital in Salisbury. When I got there I discovered my wrist was broken, but that was the worst of my injuries. Apart from tinnitus and a few bruises I was well enough to go home.

Later that day I learnt that it took four men to lift the vehicle from the crater. I still don’t know how two of us had managed to help our mate. I have since spoken to paramedics who told me of instances where in an emergency they had managed to summon incredible strength far beyond that of the people who were on the scene of an accident. It must have something to do with the adrenalin surge that comes with near-death encounters.

The day we hit the landmine was 22 December 1979 – three days before Christmas. On 21 December a settlement agreement had been signed between all the feuding parties in the Rhodesian war and a ceasefire had been declared."