Forward into Hell

by Vince Bramley

  I received a call from Denzil Connick, who put me under the wing of an old hack, who being loyal to the Paras wanted the same outcome as me: the Regiment’s name intact. Alistair McQueen, Irish and solid, this guy saved my sanity. Thank you. He guided me through the media snakepit, protecting me and advising me. He made sure the truth of what I said was printed. Every interview I did was always aimed at stopping the inquiry and in praise of 3 Para.

  I cocked up once when one particular paper just wouldn’t let go. They sent the same journalist to my door time and time again. So I whacked him. Big mistake: next day, I was assassinated on the front page. As Alistair said, ‘You cannot hit hacks, Vince, they will be judge and jury in their columns.’

  At one point, after clearance by the Argentine government through my solicitor Julie Nixon, I found myself with Denzil, Dom Gray, Alistair and the legendary photography Ken Lennox (famous for his photo of Maggie leaving Downing Street in tears). We were on a plane to Argentina to do a joint story about ex-foes meeting each other to discuss the war. Two armed security guys went with us everywhere, even to a Latin tango bar run by exiled Cubans. What a night out! The whole thing was a success, but, before we travelled back, the synopsis for my second book was already in place. But that is another story.

  It was around this time that the World in Action team approached me. They had collected a fair bit of information, enough to warrant a programme. I agreed to be interviewed once they had captured on film the letter-writer who was the source of the inquiry, which I wanted turned on its head.

  It was once said to me by an MP in a bar after a TV show that the government needs to wash its dirty linen now and then, just to show the world that it can. Today, our troops are being hounded in Iraq for spitting. And aggressive fighting men on the frontline are now expected to act like policemen.

  Before I can go any further, I must explain how this book came to be published. It was never meant to be like this: the manuscript was a rough bundle of papers so my father could read about my experiences. Nothing more, nothing less. However, the text found its way to a publisher.

  Next thing I know, there I am sitting with publishers thinking, Wow. Before I signed a contract, the manuscript was passed to my old regimental HQ for approval. I received a reply, saying it was a good book, and it would be nice to have the exploits of 3 Para on the record. The book hit the shelves and ticked along with good reviews.

  All I had wanted was recognition for 3 Para and to explain how troops suffer to achieve government aims. In my opinion, this war was the most heavily censored war of all time and I wanted to put across the experiences of the ordinary soldier.

  Well, my turn did come. Throughout the Scotland Yard inquiry, the police travelled up and down the country searching for witnesses and piecing together events. Many lads called in to tell me the score. At least these lads could see the bigger picture. I received a call from Julie Nixon, my solicitor, informing me that I had to attend an interview at Aldershot Police Station. My fear and anxiety was indescribable.

  Although Julie was calm, collected and supportive, I knew I was going to be grilled. The two detectives were smart and intelligent, as well as being overpowering in their seriousness and professionalism. We shook hands. I respected them immediately, and I felt sorry for all the lads who had to endure the raking up of old ghosts, memories and mental scars. I know I couldn’t assist them. The bravery of all 3 Paras was more important. ‘No comment, no comment,’ I kept saying.

  After about two hours, I was informed that they might require me at a future date, and that it would be advisable not to get involved with the media, as charges of looting or murder could be raised against me or others.

  I wanted to scream, ‘Tell the suits to bury it, stop this now!’ How could they (the suits that is) even think about a trial?

  I walked from the station into fresh air and freedom. I feel angry towards the Tory government, whom this war helped re-elect who were now stabbing the troops in the back. Time passed, weeks, months, and then every now and then the story would pop up and disappear as it turned into the next day’s fish and chips wrapping paper. But, to me and everyone involved, it was a long nightmare.

  World in Action did screen its programme, putting forward their view and mine. I had known for many months the source of the letters and had had many verbal confirmations as to who really kicked this off. Ex-Captain Mason, Support Company 3 Para, had written to an MP who had always moaned about the legalities of this war. The letters were written over a period of time and were filed even before this book was first published. They became a kind of eventual launching pad for the inquiry.

  The bigger picture is that lots of men were dragged through this inquiry because of a misinterpretation of orders. That is also how this inquiry ended after eighteen months of nightmares, with a thirty-second slot on the TV news and half a column in the papers. The line was ‘It’s not in the public’s interest to pursue this any further’ – to me that was the right conclusion and what I had been fighting for.

  Who ended the inquiry? Well, most probably it was the same suit who started it all in the first place.

  You may sense my anger at the word ‘suit’ throughout this small chapter, but it was a big chapter and nightmare for me, my family and all those 3 Paras who were grilled. To me, suits are faceless bureaucrats who can abuse their power and ruin lives without losing sleep. Sadly, they run this country. But we don’t learn by history, do we? The same things are happening today in Iraq. Just as in the Falklands, the suits will be wined and dined, while the troops will always have to suffer.

  As for me, well, I’ve said my piece now; it’s put to bed. I’m not a first-class author or military critic, but I will always speak out in defence of the troops. I do some lectures and have fallen in with the rank of ‘Joe Public’. I have lost a few friends, and some have returned to say ‘Sorry’. That’s fine. I know the crap we all went through. I’m happy with my work and my colleagues. Hopefully, I will retire peacefully and gracefully.

  Acknowledgements are normally carried at the front of a book, however, I wish to do this now. John Blake and Lucian Randall, who have reprinted this book, are thanked wholeheartedly. There are many friends who have stuck by me throughout: Paul Reid, Jez Hemming, Mark Rawlings, Jon Cook, Dom Gray, Martyn Benson, Mark Eyles Thomas, who as a 17-year-old boy has already made a success of his life. Alistair McQueen and Julie Nixon who assisted me when I was alone against the powers that be. Everybody needs friends and family to get them through life. My family closed ranks and supported me throughout. They are all heroes to me.

  But one person remains my main strength, my wife Karon. She may not have given me a welcome-home kiss, and we did get divorced soon after the war, but we quickly remarried and brought into the world our daughters, Beth and Meg. It is she and she alone to whom I owe so much, a quiet, inoffensive, routine girl who has endured years of nightmares with me.

  My nightmares exist to this day, the nightmares of the inquiry and the war. She never moaned once and she is the one who wakes me gently when I moan at night. She has quietly supported me for nearly twenty-four years. She is also a war veteran in my eyes and should wear my medals, and I’m sure there are other wives the same out there. One day the nightmares may end for everyone who suffered but for now, as when all wars end, the casualty list is bigger than you think.

  GLOSSARY

  ACC Army Catering Corps

  a.s.a.p. as soon as possible

  AT Anti-Tank

  basher improvised sleeping shelter, often using a poncho

  bergen backpack containing mess kit, food rations, sleeping bag, spare clothing, etc.

  blowpipe hand-held, wire-guided, ground-to-air missile

  blue-on-blue accidental clash between forces fighting on the same side

  Cabbagehead Marine

  Chinook powerful twin-rotor helicopter used by both the British and the Argentineans

  chopper helicopter

  CO Commanding
Officer

  compo standard-issue dried food rations for use in the field: GS (General Service) – canned; Arctic – dried

  Craphat soldier not of one’s own regiment (not applied to the SAS)

  CSM Company Sergeant-Major

  DF defensive fire

  Endex end of exercise

  Exocet variable-range guided missile particularly used in sea warfare

  FAP first aid post

  FIBUA fighting in built-up areas

  FN Belgian-made automatic rifle

  FOO forward observation officer

  FPA final protection area: target on which a machine-gun is locked, or registered

  GPMG general-purpose machine-gun

  H hour the time at which an action or battle is to commence

  HE high explosive

  IWS individual weapon sight: infra-red for night use

  JNCO junior non-commissioned officer

  MG machine-gun

  Milan short-range, wire-guided, anti-tank missile; also used against bunkers

  Mirage French fighter-bomber used by the Argentineans

  MOD Ministry of Defence

  MT Motor Transport

  NCO non-commissioned officer

  ND negligent discharge (of a weapon)

  NOD night observation device

  OC Officer Commanding

  OGs durable cotton-denim battle dress; often preferred, particularly in cold conditions, to standard-issue ‘lightweights’

  OP observation post

  PC Platoon Commander

  Pucará twin-piston-engined ground-attack aircraft used by the Argentineans

  QM quartermaster

  RAC Royal Armoured Corps

  RAMC Royal Army Medical Corps

  R & R rest and recuperation

  RMP Regimental Military Police

  RSM Regimental Sergeant-Major

  rubber dick hoax, wind-up

  SAS Special Air Service

  SBS Special Boat Squadron

  Scimitar light tank equipped with a seventy-six-millimetre gun and particularly suited to cross-country use

  Scorpion light tank equipped with a thirty-millimetre automatic cannon and particularly suited to cross-country use

  Seacat medium-range sea-to-air missile

  Sea King anti-submarine helicopter for naval use with a capacity of up to twenty persons

  SF sustained fire

  SLR self-loading rifle

  SMG sub-machine-gun

  stag duty guard duty

  stand down cease guard duty

  stand to begin guard duty

  tab Parachute and other regiments’ term for a brisk march or run

  Tom private soldier

  PLATES

  Heading towards the South Atlantic aboard the SS Canberra.

  Landing-craft drills on Ascension Island.

  On Ascension Island.

  One of B Company’s gun crews. Left to right: Steve Ratchford, Taff McNeilly, me.

  Left to right: Pte Dominic Gray, me, (?), Ben.

  The machine gun platoon, 3 Para. Back row, left to right: Pte John Skipper, Pte Stewart, me, Sgt Deaney, Cpl Johnny Cook, Lte Mike Oliver, L/Cpl Tony Peers, Cpl Thompson, L/Cpl Mark Hawlings, Pte Chris Dexter, Pte Tony Jones. Front row: Pte Steve Ratchford, Pte Taff McNeilly, Pte Robert Jeffries, Pte Chaderton, Pte Dave Chambers, Pte Rick Westry, Pte Billy Knight, Pte ‘Rats’, Pte Bob Geddis, Pte Mick Coleman.

  Gun positions in a bunker at San Carlos Bay. Left to right: me, Ratch, Taff.

  Boarding chopper to fly to the summit of Mount Estancia for the assault on Longdon.

  SF machine-gun tracer lights the sky during the battle for Longdon.

  Me with Kev Connery shortly after the battle.

  On the hard-won summit of Longdon.

  Me on a captured 81mm mortar position.

  View from my machine-gun position along the ridge of Longdon (about 1,000 metres).

  Argentinian prisoners.

  Rick Westry (left) and me with two Argentinians found hiding in a bunker.

  First aid post for 3 Para at the base of Longdon. L/Cpl James (centre) was wounded in the back and foot.

  Young Argentinian soldier killed by a collapsing bunker.

  Charred remains of an Argentinian killed by a phosphorus-filled grenade.

  Cpl Pete Thompson (left) and me pointing at the wound from the bullet that killed this Argentinian.

  The mutilated victim of a shell attack.

  Bodies awaiting burial. The Argentinians were buried on Longdon.

  Two helmet-topped SLRs mark the spot where Doc Murdoch and Geordie Lang were killed.

  Tony Jones (left) and Bob Geddis entering Port Stanley. The Red Cross buildings were in fact ammunition depots.

  Human faces of war. Taff Williams surrounded by Argentinians who gave themselves up in Port Stanley.

  Prisoners clearing up.

  Marines and Paras looting in Port Stanley.

  Left to right: Lt Mike Oliver, me, Pte Tony Jones, Cpl Johnny Cook.

  Homeward bound. Celebrating Airborne Forces Day on SS Norland. Left to right: Joe, (?), Kev Connery, Johnny Cook, me, Paul Reid, Billy Baker.

  The twenty-three temporary graves at Teal Inlet for the dead of 3 Para.

  The funeral at Aldershot for the repatriated dead of 2 and 3 Para.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  On the military side, many serving and former members of 3 Para have lent their valued support, notably Johnny Cook, Dominic Gray and Grant Grinham. Also a tower of strength was Johnny Weeks, who is and will always be a professional soldier’s soldier.

  Bravery is not confined to the field of action. In this connection, I cannot thank enough Rita and Bill Hedicker, who allowed me to relate the tragic death of their son and my friend, Pete. This is bravery and strength of a special order.

  I should like to thank my family: Fred, Pam and Brian, who have unfailingly supported me through thick and thin; and my brother Russell, who gave me invaluable encouragement from the start.

  Finally, my thanks to Wally Camfield, formerly of 3 Para, who inspired me to join that elite regiment, and also to my wife Karon who at times lives with my battles when everyone else is asleep.

  COPYRIGHT

  Published by John Blake Publishing Ltd,

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  ePub ISBN 978 1 84358 644 9

  Mobi ISBN 978 1 84358 654 8

  PDF ISBN 978 1 84358 664 7

  First published in paperback in 2011

  ISBN: 9781843583202

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent publisher.

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