His sentiments were echoed by Prince Mired Raad Zeid Al-Hussein, chairman of the Board of the Hashemite Commission for Disabled Soldiers in Jordan. ‘We hope that Ulfat’s performance and example at the Invictus Games will help to shatter stereotypes about what is possible for injured soldiers to achieve in Jordan and elsewhere. We also hope that Ulfat will be a role model for young girls in Jordan about what they can do through sport and in society.’
For the Invictus Games are about all the nations which compete, not just the larger ones. It had taken the Afghanistan team almost 24 hours to reach Orlando, and through no fault of their own they had come ill-equipped: no coaches, a team manager none of them had met before, no prosthetic limbs, scarcely a tracksuit of their own. They had had neither the funds nor the facilities to train properly; even the main Afghan training base in Kabul had no rowing machine.
So the other teams helped them out. The Americans covered the cost of the Afghanis’ flights, hotels and food. During the powerlifting, the Australian lifters spotted for their Afghan competitors and encouraged them. When Afghanistan briefly took the lead against France during the sitting volleyball match between the two nations, the crowd roared as loud as at any time during the Games.
And from the all too visible evidence of disparity – state-of-the-art prosthetic legs for the Westerners, 25-year-old hooks for the Afghanis – may yet come some good. Will Reynolds, the US team captain who lost part of his left leg in a Baghdad bomb, said: ‘I’ve got eight (artificial) legs – more than I need. Some of the legs I can’t even wear. And to know there are other service members out there wearing stuff that’s not serviceable is unacceptable.’ He suggested a donation programme in which discarded prosthetics are sent to countries like Afghanistan, which desperately need them.
The Georgians were also enjoying their time in Orlando. Always good value at international sporting events, as countless players and fans will testify from the last four Rugby World Cups, they play hard, on and off the field, and it’s a brave or foolish man who takes on a Georgian in a drinking match. They were good value here too. When Giorgi Bochorishvili won silver in the men’s IT6 100 metres, the cheers from his teammates could be heard from all around the stadium.
‘For the first moment I could not realise what happened,’ Giorgi said. ‘When I understood, it was an amazing feeling to bring a medal back home.’
And they lit up the sitting volleyball tournament with their formation chanting and intense team huddles. They ran the British close in the semi-final – the two teams had been sharing tips via Skype in the run-up to the Games – and then defeated the Netherlands to win the bronze medal. ‘The Games have been amazing,’ said Besarion Gudushauri, Georgia’s captain. ‘It’s allowed us to make friendships, restart our sporting careers and encourage others to achieve by joining us. I am humbled to be a part of these Games.’
Him, and everyone else.
COMPETITOR PROFILE:
RAHMON ZONDERVAN, NETHERLANDS
The national flag on the coffin was what Rahmon Zondervan remembered most. Rahmon was eight years old, and his grandfather had just died. He remembered the red, white and blue draped perfectly across the lid. His grandfather had been a soldier, and Rahmon wanted to be one too. He watched war movies and fell in love with the idea of army life.
He joined up at 17, and was deployed to Afghanistan pretty much immediately after basic training. Three months into his tour, he was wounded by a suicide-controlled IED in Uruzgan province which killed the man – a colleague, a friend – standing next to him. Rahmon lost his right eye, badly damaged his eardrums and wrist, and needed more than 200 stitches on his arms, legs and face – ‘In the two and a half years after the attack I underwent 13 operations, ranging from work on my eye to removing pieces of boxer shorts which the blast had driven into my body.’
He continued in the Infantry during his rehabilitation, but like many others in similar situations found himself caught between two stools: he obviously couldn’t go back out on combat missions, but still felt himself to be a soldier with much to offer the Army. In the end, he left the Infantry to retrain as an army physiotherapist. He’d always been a keen sportsman and had run a lot during his rehab to keep fit and relieve his stress and anxiety, so the move made sense in more ways than one.
The physio course was a civilian one, so Rahmon spoke with his new classmates about what had happened to him – ‘That’s one advantage of my type of injuries: they’re very visible, so people do ask you about them.’ He worked hard to get his diploma as quickly as possible. ‘I had it much easier than some of my classmates, who needed part-time jobs or loans to do the course. The Army was paying for me to do it all, so I was very grateful.’
He captained the Dutch team in London – ‘a big honour’ – and went to Orlando too, both times with the Invictus Games ‘I AM’ logo painted on his prosthetic eye. ‘They were so different, the two Games, in lots of ways, but I can’t say which one I preferred. I give them both a big fat 10! The camaraderie and the support is unbelievable.’
Like many other competitors, Rahmon is happy to give up his place for Toronto if need be so that someone else can have a go and experience what he has.
‘I try to get all I can out of life, every day. The way I see it, if I’m not enjoying life then my buddies died for nothing. I don’t put a limit on what I can do. I’ve found that many people look for the worst: “Oh, I’m missing an eye, I can’t do this or that or the other.” My advice is to just try it. Even with one eye I can now drive and shoot again. You can do more than you think you can.’
EPILOGUE
THE CAPTAIN OF MY SOUL
London 2014, Orlando 2016, Toronto 2017, Sydney 2018 … At the time of writing, that is all we know so far. Where the Invictus Games go after that, and when they go there, is still to be decided. There is no set timetable, no rigid cycle which must be maintained, come hell or high water. The Games will go on for as long as they’re needed, whether that’s one year or 100 years. The one thing which everyone involved wants to avoid is any sense that the Games may one day be held just because it’s always been that way: the Games should go on, and will go on, for as long as they continue to change lives.
The phrase ‘life-changing injury’ or ‘life-changing illness’ is almost always a negative one. In that context, the word ‘change’ implies reduction: reduction of ability, reduction of opportunity, reduction of life quality itself. And this, of course, is often the case – but not always. The Invictus Games have shown that ‘life-changing’ can mean just that – ‘change’ scented with overtones of freshness and positivity. The opposite of change is stasis, and stasis leads to stagnation, to withering and to death – a death which pretty much every Invictus competitor has stared in the eye and faced down.
‘I’m still here,’ says Josh Boggi. ‘I’m still the same person as I was before – I’ve just got a few limbs missing. Yes, I did want to be a soldier, but now I’ll settle for just being me.’ And if the man who set the IED which almost killed him walked in here now, to this Salisbury coffee shop where we’re talking, what would he do? Josh holds up his one remaining hand: ‘I’d shake his hand.’ Honestly? ‘Honestly. He was doing his job, I was doing mine. It wasn’t personal.’
Sarah Rudder looked round the stadium in Orlando at her fellow competitors: men, women, amputees, post-traumatic stress survivors, cancer sufferers and more. They were all wearing the colours of the nations they were so proud to represent, but those flags united more than they divided them – ‘We fought the same war together. We suffered together, we got injured, we died together. And we survived together. I lost 13 years trying to save that darn leg. Now I’m going to get those years back.’
For Stephan Moreau, it’s simple: ‘Something really significant happened to me with Invictus. I’m not the same person any longer.’ Maurillia Simpson found similar: ‘It’s the beginning of a new dream and something I never thought would happen. It never ends there. If you have that breat
h of life in you there is a purpose, there’s always something you can do.’
Mike Goody is helping to raise money for Canine Partners, the company his girlfriend Sara Trott works for, and is also giving motivational talks. ‘If I could go back to myself under that vehicle, I’d say it’ll be tough, hard, rough, but stay strong and life will get better. The future’s wide open for whatever you want it to be. You might have to do some things differently, but you will do them.’
Near the end of our Skype chat, Darlene Brown suddenly laughs. ‘You know, a year ago, I could never have done this interview – I’d have been a bawling mess. Invictus has made me think anything’s possible. I’ve learned to ask for help and look after myself more. I’m happy not to be angry. It was like someone has moved into my head, and now they’re gone again. And for post-traumatic sufferers, we can’t go to the Paralympics, so Invictus is our place, you know? Who knew the world was so full of nice people?’ She laughs again. ‘Mind you, my illness did have its positives. Since I never went out, I ended up paying off the mortgage in record time!’
Bart Couprie should, with any luck, have his final injection and be in full remission from prostate cancer in late 2017: ‘Cancer has taken so much from me, but it’s also given me so much. Without cancer I’d never have gone to Invictus, never met presidents nor princes, never met all these incredible people – guys who’ve won the Medal of Honor, the VC, those guys. Those memories will last so much longer than any embarrassment I had about my illness. When life flips you the bird, flip it the bird back. Scar tissue is stronger than skin.’
For Mary Wilson, the Invictus Games were most of all her fellow competitors and teammates – ‘They’re a core of people I’d do anything for. My life is so much better for having met them.’ And that includes Prince Harry: ‘I told him, “Your mum would be proud of you,” and she would be. She would be very proud.’
Harry is still a young man with decades ahead of him, but he will surely be hard-pressed to find any cause whose impact matches what he has already achieved with the Invictus Games. I spoke to dozens of people while writing this book, and not a single one of them had a bad word to say about him. The more people who told me of their encounters with him, the more I was reminded of Raymond Chandler’s instruction in the November 1945 edition of the Atlantic Monthly that ‘down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. He must be a complete man and a common man and yet an unusual man. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a man of honor, by instinct, by inevitability, without thought of it, and certainly without saying it … The story is this man’s adventure in search of a hidden truth, and it would be no adventure if it did not happen to a man fit for adventure. If there were enough like him the world would be a very safe place to live in without becoming too dull to be worth living in.’
The Invictus Games are at once quintessentially Harry’s and yet set totally apart from him. They are not an end in themselves, but a springboard to things wider, deeper and greater. Ken Fisher, Chairman of Invictus Games Orlando 2016, spoke of his three aims: honouring the service these men and women have given and the sacrifices they have made, educating people around the world about the impact of injuries, visible and invisible, and inspiring others who may feel themselves lost to re-engage with society, rebuild their spirit and restore their self-esteem.
The men and women of the Invictus Games could do amazing things for our society, if only we let them. In his closing speech at London 2014, Prince Harry said, ‘By definition, servicemen and women are highly skilled, well trained and motivated people. Many of those injured are young men and women with their whole lives ahead of them. For those no longer able to serve in the Armed Forces, the future is often uncertain. We should be there ready to support them, if or when they need it. For a few this may mean long-term physical and mental support, but for the majority, this means fulfilling employment. Not special treatment, but to be treated as they were before injury, with respect, admiration and recognition of their considerable talent.’
And just imagine what that talent could do. Imagine an Invictus Games competitor come to talk to a school, for example. Imagine the sparks which that talk could fan in a child listening to those stories. Imagine those same stories being told to a youth group, or in a prison, or even an ordinary office environment. We bemoan the slickness and emptiness of our politicians, but here we have a group which actually has something to teach us if only we will listen.
Harry’s final remarks at Orlando 2016 were addressed to the competitors, but they apply to all of us, for the Invictus spirit is there for anyone who chooses to take it.
‘You are all Invictus. You are now ambassadors for the spirit of these games. Spread the word. Never stop fighting. And do all you can to lift up everyone around you.’
PICTURE SECTION
Maurice Manuel (black jersey #9) during tip-off at the Danish National Championship.
Maurice Manuel during his fifth deployment. Photo taken after one of many patrols in Rahim Kalay in Helmand, Afghanistan in 2008.
Josh Boggi and his partner Anna at the Invictus Games Orlando 2016.
Sarah Rudder, USMC vet. ‘You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice’ (Bob Marley).
Sarah Rudder with her seven medals from the Invictus Games Orlando 2016.
Stephan Moreau competing in indoor rowing at the Invictus Games Orlando 2016.
Mike Goody with his partner Sara at the Invictus Games Orlando 2016.
Maurillia Simpson living her childhood dream as a soldier.
Darlene Brown with friend and fellow Team Australia competitor Mark Urquhart at the Invictus Games Orlando 2016.
A 21-year-old Bart Couprie (2nd left) with his twin brother Boudewyn, and Ron and Roger Sheehan. Taken while deployed in Sembawang, Singapore in 1988.
Christine Gauthier with Batak, her service dog who is beside her in everything she does.
Mary Wilson during one of her swimming training sessions.
Phillip Thompson (2nd left) at the Invictus Games London 2014.
Phillip Thompson in Afghanistan talking with the villagers’ children. This was the day before Phil was critically wounded by an improvised explosive device.
Sébastien David at the Invictus Games Orlando 2016 with his family: wife Nathalie, son Axel and daughter Lucie.
Zoe Williams, second from right, with fellow UK team competitors at the Invictus Games Orlando 2016 Closing Ceremony.
Fabio Tomasulo with his fellow Italian team competitors at the Invictus Games Orlando 2016.
Amy Baynes took up archery for the 2014 Invictus Games as a way to challenge herself with a sport she’d never thought of doing.
Kai Cziesla taking part in the Crossfit Open 2017.
‘I won the silver medal in Orlando in the 4-minute indoor-rowing competition. This is why I had tattooed the medal on my wounded leg.’
Rahmon Zondervan in Afghanistan, two weeks before he was wounded by an IED explosion.
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