by Geoff Wolak
‘The philosophy is simple: no point in rescuing four men if you’re going to kill twenty civilians in the process. Best stay at home and watch the TV.’
Questioning moved to the lady. ‘You have a high body count, even by SAS standards. How does that fit ... with what you just said?’
‘The fit ... is that our successes created a rod for our own backs. People like Bob here find us jobs that are very tough, and that most units would shy away from. Hence more fighting, a higher body count.’
‘And you don’t resent that pressure?’
‘Not at all. My unit motto, thought up by the men, is: we came to fight, not read about it.’
‘Sounds like they like fighting.’
‘They do.’ I waited.
‘And is there not a danger that such men may kill for fun?’
‘Not in my unit, no. I select my men, they live and train with me, and a poor attitude is not tolerated. If I thought a man liked to kill people I would remove him.’
‘But your men do seem to like to kill.’
‘They like the training, they like the camaraderie, and they like rescuing people, and they like the newspaper stories. They don’t kill people on the weekends for fun, and in places like Sierra Leone they mixed with children and women, helped locals, saved an albino baby. Hardly the cut-throats you seem to be suggesting.’
‘But these men readily volunteer for such dangers.’
‘Yes, because all soldiers want to do well and be the best, not just march up and down.’
‘But being the best ... does involve killing.’
‘Did your father or grandfather fight in the Second World War?’
‘My grandfather took part in the D-Day landings,’ she proudly stated.
‘And he probably killed a great many people during those years, yet went home to a loving wife and raised a family, did he not – or do you think of him as someone who liked killing?’
‘He did his duty -’
‘And killed many people.’
‘For his country -’
‘Whereas we do it for fun? No sense of duty?’
‘I was not implying that -’
‘Yes you were. And in answer to your real question, some of the men I’ve served with would be best held behind bars, because they do like killing for fun. I’d not have such a man in my team.’
‘Such men exist in the Army?’
‘They do, and have always done so and will always be there. There have always been unbalanced soldiers, a great many executed in the Second World War for what they did.’
‘Are such men to be found in the modern day SAS?’
‘I don’t work closely with the modern day SAS, my team is kept separate and isolated, often abroad, and in my team I have Marines, SBS, Paras, an American, two French commandos, and some former and current SAS men.’
The questioning moved on to the next man. ‘Why such an odd mix?’
‘I choose men with special qualities. They volunteer for a gruelling three day test, after which they may work with me, and then I test attitude – which is key. A good attitude is better than being a good shot, but we expect both.’
‘You take from all the services?’
‘Yes.’
‘And the reason that this team was created, instead of using regular SAS?’
‘Some think I’m one in a million, that I have some unique way of soldiering and training men, and maybe that’s true – I don’t know. My successes in the SAS got me noticed, and I was selected for difficult jobs, but did very well, and that led to me being given a wide latitude to chose men for a team to undertake difficult rescues overseas.
‘I built on those successes, bringing us to where we are today; a team of approximately sixteen men, a good budget, good training, and we’re sent out for hostage rescue work, a good success rate achieved.
‘But I’m not saying that the SAS could not do those jobs. I got started with the best five SAS soldiers available, and we built on that elite team. Six of my men are regular SAS, many of the support staff are regular SAS.’
‘And who do you answer to?’
‘There’s an administrative SAS Major above me, and he answers to the colonel in charge of the SAS.’
‘But you operate for Bob Staines here?’
‘Not quite; Bob does not ring up and say we must go rescue someone. Often that comes from the JIC or the Cabinet Office. It goes to SIS and the Special Forces Directorate for feasibility, then often comes to me for feasibility. I make a plan, discuss it with various agencies such as the Army Intel staff based with us, I discuss it always with the Major and the Colonel, and a decision is made.’
‘And the exact role of SIS?’
‘They get the intel about where the hostages are being held, and FCO and MOD staff facilitate us in-country. In Niger, there was an FCO team dealing with hostages, and MOD staff dealing with logistics such as planes - and barracks for the men, even food and water.’
‘And who dictates the make-up of training and exercises?’
‘I do, based on what I think we need for hostage rescue. In Leominster, we built a dedicated facility to practise. I told Bob what I needed, and he organised it through the MOD, the facility where the French, Americans and Germans train with us.’
‘And if there is a problem, who do you answer to, the SAS or SIS?’
‘Both, but they have different roles. The SAS is our parent unit, they pay our wages, and I discuss green-field soldiering with the Colonel. Bob is about intel and jobs.’
‘And does the JIC play a direct role?’
I wondered about his meaning. ‘Of course, they often provide the initial impetuous for operations, they come and see what we’re up to on occasion, they like to be informed of our training and direction, but they don’t usually deal with me direct.’ I considered my next few words. ‘They mostly talk to the UKSF director, and his department talks to me,’ I lied. ‘They did, however, draw up our charter.’
‘Charter?’
Bob handed over a document. ‘That’s in the Common’s library.’
‘And this charter states ... what?’ he asked as he scanned it.
I replied, ‘If defines our guidelines, who we answer to, how we operate, etc. And on a job like Niger, I made three calls a day at least on my sat phone; one to the Colonel in Hereford, one to Army Intel, one to SIS. We certainly don’t work in isolation.’
‘But given that you have your own charter, you are separate to the SAS.’
‘Not really. Have you been listening?’
Bob turned to me, a look of caution I caught out the corner of my eye.
The next man took over. ‘Captain, what’s your unit’s policy on wounded enemy soldiers?’
‘We don’t have a policy.’ I waited.
‘Well, what do you normally do with wounded enemy soldiers?’
‘We don’t stop to find out if they’re wounded. We’re in and out fast.’
‘But as a soldier, you have a moral duty to give first aid.’
‘Where does it say that?’
‘In the Geneva Convention -’
‘The Geneva Convention does not apply.’
He straightened. ‘Britain is a signatory -’
‘No it’s not, do your homework. For the Geneva Convention to apply to a conflict a country must declare war and register it with the UN at least 24hrs before the start of a conflict. Britain did not declare war on Niger, or the Falklands, or Northern Ireland.’
‘That is correct,’ the chairman pointed out.
‘Then what laws apply to you?’
‘I wish I knew. What laws would you like to apply to me?’
They exchanged puzzled looks.
‘British and International law, for starters.’
‘International law has no sections covering counter-terrorism and hostage rescue, I’ve looked. As for British law, I kill people every week, lots of people. If the laws of murder and manslaughter applied I’d be in trouble, so would my men
. I assume they don’t apply, because when I rescue hostages and kill the hostage takers I get a medal by you lot – the law makers. So you tell me what laws apply.’
‘Military law is based on civil law -’ he began.
‘Up to the point of, but not including, shooting people. Military law allows it, civil law allows it for armed police in certain circumstances.’
He was getting frustrated. ‘Let me ask a different question. Do you finish off wounded enemy soldiers?’
‘Yes.’
They straightened.
‘You do?’
‘Of course.’
‘That would be against military law -’
‘Are you sure? Because I’m sure of what I do.’
‘If you come across a wounded man, you should give first aid.’
‘And if that man is in a mine field?’
They exchanged looks.
‘That would be different.’
‘How so?’ I pressed. ‘The law is the law.’
‘Getting to the wounded man would be very dangerous.’
‘So ... what you’re saying ... is that my men are entitled not to put themselves in unreasonable danger?’
‘Well, that would seem good soldiering; we can’t ask soldiers to throw away their lives.’
‘Let me give you an example, and you – the lawmakers – can teach me what to do. I’m part of a small patrol in the jungle, we suddenly come across an enemy patrol. We get to cover, open fire, the enemy go down – shot by us.
‘I send forwards my sergeant to give first aid, but a wounded man shoots him dead. So I send forwards the corporal, and he’s shot dead as well. So I send the next man forwards, and he’s shot dead, soon just me left. What do you think I should do – regarding offering first aid to wounded enemy soldiers?’
He shot me a peeved look. ‘I would suspect that, in that case, your judgement as officer in charge would be questioned.’
‘But you want me to give first aid to enemy soldiers...’
‘Where it doesn’t result in your men being wiped out.’
‘Ah. Now, if you can find those words in any law written down, or any military document I should have read, I’ll buy you a new car.’ I waited, getting a peeved look.
The chairman put in, ‘We can research that.’
‘Good luck with that. But when you don’t find those laws or guidelines, perhaps you could create one.’
The chairman asked, ‘Realistically, what is your policy?’
‘We shoot quickly, many times, then run like hell and don’t look back. If we shoot a man and he spins and goes down, we fire again to make sure, then run like hell, or throw a grenade. In simple terms: we never break cover and advance on the enemy if in any way it endangers the men.
‘Walking up to a wounded man in the jungle is a death sentence, as many British soldiers learnt about the Japanese in the last war, the official British policy back then being to finish them off. The terrorists I go up against are ten times worse than the Japs ever were, and if wounded they will pull the pin on a grenade. So we don’t move forwards, and we therefore don’t give first aid.
‘But I can say that we have never fired on a white flag, that we have taken prisoners where they threw down weapons and surrendered, and we don’t fire on civilians. In Sierra Leone we took two prisoners, fed them, gave them some money and converted them to our side.
‘In West Africa, we stormed compounds and shot the armed men, leaving the women and kids unharmed. My unit’s policy is my policy, and I chose carefully who we shoot. But we do make mistakes. In west Africa, after a rescue, a ten year old boy walked up to us, pulled out a pistol and shot one of my men a few times. We shot the boy dead. Regrettable.
‘In Somalia we set fire to a weapons store, not knowing quite what was in it. The blast levelled half the town, so much was stored in it. But, an accident with a cigarette would just have easily caused that blast without us. We try and keep the casualties down, but as I said at the start, we’re handed the tough jobs because we’re most likely to pull them off.’
‘And in Liberia?’
‘We were tasked partly with rescuing the hostages, which we did, partly on getting evidence of Russian arms dealers, and partly on stopping the ex-president from toppling the current president. Looking for evidence put my men in harm’s way, it was not something I wanted to do, and attacking the invasion force was regular soldiering work.’
‘The regular soldiering work ... was to attack a force inside Liberia?’
‘Yes. That force had attacked into Sierra Leone several times, and had attacked us directly, and was about to move on the capital. They sent armoured personal carriers into Sierra Leone to attack us, but we were lucky.’
‘The mission, the political mission, was to protect Sierra Leone?’
‘I guess so, you need to ask those higher up than me.’
Bob put in, ‘The UK Government had signed a defence treaty years earlier, and was about to equip and train the Sierra Leone army. We had treaty obligations. The fact that this group was straddling the border was academic. There was no border fence as such.’
‘What did you not like about your mission, Captain?’
‘Everything that did not include hostage rescue, which was most of it.’
‘You prefer hostage rescue?’
‘It gives what I do a clarity of purpose. But, I go where I’m told.’
Questioning was passed to the second lady. ‘In Mali, you shot up a police station and killed many men.’
‘The local police killed and kidnapped British soldiers, so I pursued them in the heat of the moment – a daft thing to do in hindsight. I followed them to a town, and then attacked the police station and rescued my man. Was it heavy handed, yes, and could have best been avoided. But someone recently asked me a question of culpability.
‘If a man picks up a gun and shoots at his neighbours, armed police arrive and shoot back, and kill the man’s wife and daughter in the process. Who’s culpable for the deaths of that man’s wife and daughter? I say the man is, because he took up arms whilst knowing that it may bring a shoot-out to his home.
‘There have been civilians killed in the cross fire during hostage rescues, including children belonging to the hostage takers. But I say that ... if the father is using his home to imprison hostages taken by force, he is responsible when we kick down his door and open fire.
‘If you point a gun at an armed policeman there are consequences, and it’s the same for hostage takers, most of whom had their families around them, hostages in the next room.’
She nodded. ‘I agree ... that culpability would lie with such an idiot as to have hostages in his home, his kids playing on the carpet. And what a lesson for the kids as they grow up. But just to be clear, you never stop to give first aid?’
‘Hardly ever.’
‘To a wounded civilian caught in the crossfire?’
‘Never. We grab the hostages and get them out as fast as possible, a matter of minutes, no looking back. We’re tasked with getting the hostages quickly, not giving first aid.’
‘And shooting men at a distance?’
‘Yes, same as shooting them close up. Let me give you an example. We’re hidden in the trees, but see an enemy soldier four hundred yards away, back to us, walking away. Would it be OK to kill him?
‘No, because he’s no threat to you.’
‘So we leave that man, walk off. He turns and spots us, brings in mortars, men are killed and wounded. Should I have killed that man?’
‘A difficult scenario,’ she admitted.
‘Then perhaps you’ll leave the soldiering to me, and you watch it from your comfortable armchair.’
She did not like comment at all.
The next man asked, ‘Who is responsible for selecting your men?’
‘I am.’
‘And how is that achieved?’
‘Servicemen are allowed to attempt my three-day test, after which they’re assessed and profiled
by the MOD for suitability, and then they come to reside and train with my team, and if the man is an idiot we get rid of him. I like to take them for a few beers, to find out how they tick, and someone with a fondness for violence would be let go.’
‘The profiling ... is done by who?’
‘You’d have to ask Bob here that.’
Bob eased forwards. ‘We profile men using psychiatrists, military doctors and others, with a view to finding someone who will work well for Queen and country, work alone in dangerous situations, yet is ... mentally stable. What we don’t want is someone who is trigger happy, we want someone who will do the job without being seen.’
‘You say that you, SIS ... want such things?’
‘Yes, since my department is tasked with the overview of hostage rescue worldwide, the protection of FCO and embassy staff overseas, and overseas intelligence gathering. We make use of men from the SAS for that overseas intelligence gathering, as you are all very well aware.
‘What has happened in recent years ... is that our success rate has increased thanks to Wilco, since he selected and trained men. We desire well-trained men with the right attitude, and in recent years that attitude – the SAS attitude – varied in its standards.’
The man asked me, ‘You select and train men for SIS?’
‘I don’t initially select such men, they’re sent to me for training and assessment, the idea being that we get to know beforehand if they are ... unbalanced and likely to embarrass the government.’
‘You’re saying, that in previous decades, some of the men utilised in such a role were less than ideal for that role.’
‘I would say that was a fair assessment, yes. Hard to know what a man will do under pressure, or when captured. And let’s not kid ourselves here. Our well-trained ex-SAS men go down to Africa to make some money, and embarrass the government through ... less than honourable conduct.’
‘Such as Colonel Roach.’
‘Very much so, he worked directly against the British Government.’
‘He died at a time when you were in the Congo...’
‘And I had planned on going after him, and bringing him back, but the Prime Minister diverted us to Zambia to protect mines. Intel suggests he died at the hands of the local warlord, some dispute, and it was witnessed by many locals.’