The Two Worlds of Charlie F

by Owen Sheers

  Psychologist And what about your first contact? How did you find that?

  Charlie Well, it kinda found us really. They attacked our compound and, I won’t lie, Doc, it was fucking great. It was like, finally, we get to do our job. We’d had weeks of just gash sweeps, sangar duty, that kinda shit. So to finally have a defensive shoot – it was the best day of my military career. It was simple, you know? They brought the fight to us. We won, they lost. We suffered no casualties, but lots of our guys got confirmed kills. So yeah, it felt really, really good.

  The following speeches are projected on to the gauze.

  Roger You can’t tell how you’ll react. When that first RPG went across our bonnet me and Jimmy just looked at each other, then started laughing. A month later he was dead, killed by one.

  Frank Your training kicks in. There’s so much adrenalin the body takes over. And you’ve got rounds coming the other way too, at you, so yeah, I was just trying to stay alive.

  Simi It was the kids that were my deepest surprise. On Telic 8. Coming at you with automatic weapons, petrol bombs. Eleven, twelve years old. And you have to make that choice. It’s you or them. You fire some rounds over their heads, and you hope they run away. But if they don’t, then …

  Richard I loved my first contact. I was in an orchard with my mate Parry. A sniper’s round just missed my head. I felt it brush past my face. We didn’t have our gats, so we ran for it, back to the camp, with the whole orchard being thrown up around us. And Parry, he starts singing from behind me, ‘Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run.’ Just over and over. When we got our rifles, we just ran straight back into it. And we were, like, is this what we’re meant to be doing? But yeah, it’s a real buzz, it is.

  Psychologist And how did that experience change for you? Over the tours?

  Charlie Well the war changed, didn’t it? Afghanistan changed. I mean, on Herrick 5 it was Wild West stuff, bandit country. Ten dollar Taliban doing Beirut unloads. A lot of spray and pray, shoot and scoot. But by Herrick 14 it was proper guerilla warfare. Seasoned warriors. Giving us come-ons, planting IEDs fucking everywhere. I mean, Sangin was IED central. Low metal content, infra-red switches, strapping bombs to donkeys. They were even planting decoys so they could watch how we examined them. You had to respect your enemy. Were they honourable tactics? No. Was it effective guerilla warfare? Yes. I mean, the guy who did this to me did a really, really good job. He killed two incredibly good soldiers and took myself and JJ out of action. It was a legacy IED, laid a while ago. But the batteries – those batteries had been changed regularly, to keep it active.

  Roger, Frank, Daniel and Richard enter as a patrol in full combat gear. They slowly move in formation downstage.

  Psychologist Were you out on patrol often?

  Charlie Yeah. I mean, you’ve got to take the fight to them, haven’t you? You can’t just sit back in the compound with your thumb firmly up your ass. But I’ll tell you, Doc, that first time I stepped outside the gate, my mouth went dry. I had to take a sip from my CamelBak straight away because … well, we were suddenly outside our comfort zone. You know that once you’re out that gate anything could happen, at anytime. And that it probably will. Every day we were playing Afghan roulette.

  Roger We’d snake, spread out, change our routes. We had two Vallon men on most patrols, and ECMs. But sometimes there was nothing you could do. There were some bad days. Once, in the same afternoon, we lost two blokes and an interpreter. But there were good days too, you know, when you’re seeing them drop.

  Frank We’d always be watching the atmospherics. If you see the women and children start to leave, or some bloke who might be dicking you, we’d go firm, straight away. Take no chances.

  Daniel You’ve got your eyes down all the time, trying to follow the Vallon man’s route exactly, trying to step in the other man’s prints. But then you’re also trying to look for firing points, or murder holes. And trying to command. There’s a lot of tension. Then the next day we’d be at a Shura, a gathering of the local elders. And for all I knew the hand I was shaking had planted the bomb that blew up one of my boys the week before.

  Angus Coming back from one patrol we saw a leg in a tree. It was a come-on. I sent an Afghan National to investigate and sure enough the Taliban started firing grenades. We still got the leg. It belonged to a marine from J Company, killed the week before.

  Richard On my second tour we never saw them, not once. It was like fighting ghosts. You might see a muzzle flash, a puff of smoke, but that was it. When we did night ops sometimes they’d communicate by howling like animals, like dogs. That could be pretty scary. I took a Pashtun language course before I went out. That helped loads. I could talk to people when we were out on patrol. Sometimes they’d tell us where the Taliban were, or warn us off certain routes. I reckon that language course saved us more than our Ospreys.

  Psychologist And what about relations with the locals? Did you have much interaction?

  Charlie Well, yeah, sure, hearts and minds and all that. But that was the biggest change of all, Doc. I mean, knowing who the enemy were. On the early tours you could bet anyone still in the smashed-up village you were occupying was up to no good. But then later? On Herrick 12, 13, 14? It was a whole different ball game. Farmers, bazaars, kids, families. So the war card changed, didn’t it? You had to PID someone before you fired.

  Psychologist PID?

  Charlie Postively identify. Which I completely understand, but it was like we were stuck between these two fucking TLAs – PID and IED with old ‘Tommy Atkins’ getting fucked over in the middle.

  Beat.

  The only way I can explain it is that you’re not living with ‘if’ any more, but ‘when’. A company loses a man and things change. The young ones want revenge. It gets personal. You’re out there for each other. That’s it. You’re fighting for the man next to you. Fuck anything else. But at the same time you’re waking up every day expecting something to happen. It’s like there’s five of you in a car, going on a road trip, but you know at the end of that trip two of you will have lost your legs, one of you will be dead and another one will be wounded. You just don’t know who, or when.

  Psychologist Do you want to talk about your ‘when’, Charlie?

  Beat.

  Charlie Sure. I was taking part in an op …

  Simi enters. She begins singing her gospel song to the tune of ‘His Eyes on the Sparrow’.

  Daniel I was commanding a company …

  Richard I was on top cover …

  Frank I was against a wall …

  Roger I was in a Snatch …

  Young Simi I was in the comms room …

  Marc I was on patrol …

  All When / When / When / When …

  A sudden simultaneous moment of contact. The sound of explosions and gunfire. In slow motion Frank is hit by an RPG. Richard is blown from his vehicle. Roger’s Snatch turns over. Chris, Daniel, Charlie and Leroy are hit by IEDs. Simi, still singing, has joined Young Simi in the centre of the stage.

  Young Simi There were two mortars, back to back. The first one killed my best friend. I was trying to get to him when the second one brought the wall down on me.

  She kneels in front of Simi.

  I was trapped. They were trying to dig me out. But all I could hear was Mummy, singing the song we always sang.

  As Young Simi also starts singing ‘His Eyes on the Sparrow’, Simi combs her hair, as in the earlier scene. All around them the moments of wounding continue.

  The non-wounded Soldiers form medic teams around those who are down. Shouts of ‘Man Down!’, ‘Morphine!’, T1 casualty reports.

  John is crouched over Chris. Angus over Frank. Darren over Daniel. Marc over Roger. Dave over Richard.

  As the medics work the wounded Soldiers sit up to speak.

  Daniel I was blown twenty metres …

  Frank I heard the rocket coming in …

  Richard I was blown sixty feet …

  Chris I caught th
e backlash …

  Roger The Snatch went over and I hit the roof …

  Daniel The shrapnel went through the back of my brain …

  Frank It shattered my cheek bone, pierced my eye …

  Richard My mates thought I’d bought it, that I was pink mist …

  Chris I felt the sand hitting my face …

  Roger I could hear the others screaming, as it filled with water …

  Simi and Young Simi’s singing fades to silence.

  Richard And then there was silence …

  Frank Just this ringing in my ears, nothing else …

  Chris Just a blue sky above me …

  Daniel And nothing else …

  All lie down to be treated again. Leroy sits up on the other side of the stage.

  Leroy My mate had been shot. So I was like, fuck this! Osprey off, helmet off, dropped my GPMG. Got him over my shoulder and ran for it. Then, everything went dark. No boom, no hitting the ground, no pain. I was just lying on the floor.

  He lies back down as John and Angus run over to him.

  John Fuck! You all right, mate?

  Leroy Yeah, yeah, I’m good.

  Angus Yeah, you fucking look it, mate.

  Leroy What’s that supposed to mean?

  Angus and John start treating him.

  John You’re going to be OK, mate, you’re going to be OK.

  Leroy looks up and sees his legs have gone.

  Leroy Fuck! Oh fuck!

  Angus You’ve been hit by an IED, mate. But you’re going to be fine, you’re going to be fine.

  John checks his balls.

  You’ve still got your balls, mate.

  Leroy Fuck, I’m going to die! I’m going to die! Give me a cigarette! Give me a cigarette!

  Angus You’re not going to die.

  John We can’t give you a fag, we can’t, mate.

  Leroy I’m going to fucking die, give me what I want!

  John hands him a fag, and lights it. John, Angus and Leroy all inhale deeply.

  I swear, that fag went down in one drag. My right leg was still hanging by a thread but as they carried me away it fell off and rolled into a ditch. I was like, ‘Get my leg, get my fucking leg.’ They couldn’t reach it, so the lads gave me a stick, said ‘Here’s your fucking leg,’ and at the time I could have sworn it was. The last thing I remember is passing out in the chopper, thinking, ‘Fuck me, I didn’t even have any last words.’ Apparently I came round again in Bastion. I was crying, screaming for my mum. But I don’t remember any of that.

  As Angus and John exit carrying Leroy.

  Sarah and Lauren enter to stand in front of two screened hospital beds.

  Sarah For three weeks we experienced two different kinds of hell. He was suffering hallucinations in his coma, while I was out here, not knowing if he was going to live or die. It was strange, because he looked perfect. He was dirty, but he was tanned too, and really lean and fit. And his skin … they all come back with such good skin. Sand-blasted, smooth. But he wasn’t perfect. Far from it. Three times I took the kids in to see him because the doctors thought he wouldn’t last the night. We assumed he didn’t know we were there. But in a way he did. He told me afterwards that each time we’d gone in he’d had the same hallucination. He was coming to meet us at the funfair. But every time, just before he reached us, he’d have to say goodbye. To me. To the kids. That was him fighting for us I suppose. Saying goodbye at the fun fair.

  Beat.

  On the first night, just after he was brought in, I went to have a cup of tea in the waiting room. There were two other women in there, on their knees, on the floor, praying. They were wearing burkas. I know I shouldn’t have, but I felt so angry at them. I mean, Daniel was fighting for his life next door. But then I heard them say his name. Major Daniel Thomas. And I realised they were praying for him. They were praying for all the patients on the ward.

  Lauren paces up and down.

  Lauren Please save him. Please, oh please. I promise if you do I’ll come to church every week. I will. I’ll go and see Mum more often. I’ll cut back on the drink. I will. I’ll … I’ll give more money to charity. I’ll do a night every week in the soup kitchen. I’ll stop smoking. Really. I will. Just let him live. Please let him live.

  A Doctor enters.

  Doctor Miss Preston?

  Lauren Yes. That’s me.

  Doctor You’re Charles’s …

  Lauren Fiancée. Yes, yes, I am. Is he OK? Is he going to be all right?

  Doctor Well, he’s been really put through it. But yes. He’s going to pull through.

  She flings her arms around him.

  Lauren Oh God, thank you! Thank you so much! Can I see him?

  Doctor Not yet. He’s still in surgery. But in about an hour or so, that should be fine.

  The Doctor exits. Lauren roots in her bag for a cigarette.

  Lauren Oh thank you, thank you!

  She pulls out a cigarette and is about to light it when she pauses. She looks up.

  Lauren After this. OK? I promise. Last one.

  The lights fade up on Charlie and the Psychologist upstage.

  Charlie But like I said, I don’t remember any of that. I was there, but I wasn’t.

  Psychologist Right.

  The faint sound of military radio chatter, the thudding of a helicopter, building through his speech.

  Charlie I don’t remember waking up.

  I don’t remember eating breakfast.

  I don’t remember being given orders, or loading up, or leaving the compound.

  I don’t remember going where we went.

  I don’t remember walking through an archway, a low archway.

  I don’t remember the IED going off.

  None of that.

  Beat.

  Just that taste. Grit in the mouth. And a few sounds. I remember a few sounds.

  The sounds begin to fade.

  But that’s because it’s the last to go I guess. Your hearing. Your hearing’s the last to go.

  The sounds fade to silence.

  Fade to black.

  Act Two

  SCENE ONE – PHYSIO

  Physio room.

  Classical music.

  Lights come up to reveal an amputee wearing a regimental T-shirt sitting on a therapeutic ball working with his physiotherapist. Using a pair of bats they hit a bright orange balloon back and forth. Other patients enter, all wearing regimental T-shirts. Other physios also enter. They begin performing different exercises.

  Charlie enters on crutches.

  Charlie Welcome back. So, yeah, this is where we come afterwards. When we survive. Personally I thought I was going to Heaven. I’m not kidding, a lot of us here did. You’re floating on the morphine, you’re being medevaced into the heelo. There’s this ringing in your ears and a blue sky above you. You’ve just been blown up – where do you think you’d be going?

  Turns out I was wrong though. Wasn’t Heaven. It was Selly Oak. Then here.

  Beat.

  It’s a bit like doing basic training again – ‘Break to build’, that’s what they told us back then. Well, we’re sure as hell broken now, aren’t we? So, plenty of building to be done. Learning drills and skills for our ‘new normal’. Our new world. Our ‘brave new world’. That has such creatures in it …

  So yeah, this is, I guess, our new drill square. The physios our new PT instructors. The doctors, consultants, our majors and generals. Prosthetics, wheelchairs, meds, our new kit. The operations our, well, new operations. It’s a bit of a freak show to be honest with you. I wasn’t too happy about it at first, I mean, a few weeks ago I was a steely-eyed dealer of death. Then, wham, bam, thank you mam, and I’m in this circus. Seals on bouncy balls. In Surrey.

  He looks about the arches of the set.

  And very nice it is too. Big grounds, gardens, orchards, regular Downton fucking Abbey.

  As Charlie takes his place in the physio room Richard enters, wearing headphones. His physio tells hi
m to remove them.

  As he does the music switches from classical to dance. The exercises begin to syncopate into a choreographed dance.

  SCENE TWO – FLASHBACK

  The physio dance routine is suddenly interrupted by a massive blast. A cloud of dust blows in from offstage. All the patients and physios collapse to the floor. The stage darkens. Torch beams sweep the scene as two soldiers in full combat gear, Darren and Marc, enter from the direction of the blast. They are panicked by what they see.

  Darren Oh Jesus. Fuck, fuck! They’re locals!

  Marc They said it was empty!

  Darren Well, it obviously fucking wasn’t, was it?

  Darren begins checking for signs of life.

  Marc But we saw them leaving! We saw them fucking leaving!

  Daniel enters

  Daniel Jesus Christ! What the fuck is this, Sobey?

  Darren We didn’t know, sir!

  Daniel Any survivors?

  Darren No sir.

  Marc We saw them leave! We saw them fucking leaving!

  Daniel Zero two zero alpha. Civilian casualties. Wait out. Move on through. Sobey? Clear?

  Darren moves to check their exit.

  Darren Clear.

  Daniel Anderson. For fuck’s sake, Anderson!

  Darren and Marc exit. Daniel remains, looking at the bodies about him. A faint musical score begins towards the end of his speech.

  Daniel OPTAG prepares you for most things. But there’s no training for this. Seeing it, smelling it. Which is why when some of us come back from Afghan, Afghan stays with us. Or us with it. You walk these corridors at night and, believe me, you’ll hear a bit of Afghan behind every door. Sangin … Kajaki …

  He begins to move upstage, picking his way through the bodies.

  Musa Qala … Nad Ali … Gereshk … Lashkar Gah … Garmsir … FOB Gibraltar … FOB Jackson … FOB Inkerman …

  SCENE THREE – SLEEP

  Daniel exits. The bodies remain motionless for a moment before beginning to shift and turn. As the musical score gets louder they become syncopated, repeating a sequence of movements of discomfort.