The One That Got Away: My SAS Mission Behind Iraqi Lines (Memories of War)
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the Field Marshal added in his own hand: ‘What a feat of courage and endurance. Well done indeed.’ The Director of the SAS wrote in similar terms, saying that my escape ‘more than proves that our E & E training is fully justified’. Another stirring tribute came from Colonel J.A. McGregor, who wrote on behalf of the Parachute Regiment to say that ‘undoubtedly Airborne Forces are very proud of your dedication and professionalism, and you will certainly inspire others to follow in your footsteps’.
huge shotgun; if they whipped one of them up there, that was us finished. ‘Get the 66s open,’ somebody shouted, and we cocked our rocket launchers. The guys had spread out round the end of the wadi, lying behind whatever cover they could find. Dinger chose that moment to light up one of his filthy, home-rolled fags, amid strong protests. There we were, waiting for this tank to come into view round the corner. Every second the squealing and grinding got louder. We were stuck, pinned like rats in
look: I think we’re there,’ because it would have made me think harder – but he’d gone completely inert. Anyway, we kept going until 0500, by which time we were all at the end of our tether. That was hardly surprising, as we’d covered the best part of seventy kilometres during the night. I was thinking, ‘Dawn can’t be far off. We’d better find somewhere to hole up for the day,’ when we came across an old tank berm. This took the form of a bank of soil about six feet high, built in the shape of a
from me. While I’m still trying to get over the fact that he’s wearing more make-up than Barbara Cartland, the first question he hits me with is about this exact thing! For the most part, the book was very well received. People bought it and no one from the patrol had any problems with the way I described events. With the benefit of hindsight I would have written some things differently – I come across as more cocksure than I would like and I could have written about some incidents in ways which
the passenger seat pulled it down far enough for me to see. Then, leaning over into the back, he began to strip-search me: he took off my ID discs by pulling the cord over my head, undipped my belt, undid my boot laces, removed my watch, emptied my pockets, took my notebook and map. One thing which escaped him was my belt, which had 19 gold sovereigns taped to the inside. That was another frightening moment, when I felt his hands on me. The guy on my left was holding my arm, and I was thinking,