Abandoned

by Lee Shepherd

  ***

  As he approached the end of his twenty-four weeks Medical Combat Technician training, Charles watched with great interest as things were really starting to get serious in the Persian Gulf. The Iraqi Dictator, Saddam Hussein, had ordered the invasion and occupation of Kuwait, his apparent aim being the acquisition of the nation’s large oil reserves and expanding Iraqi power in the region. On August 3rd 1990, the United Nations Security Council called for Iraq to withdraw from Kuwait. On the 6th of August, just five days before Charles’ eighteenth birthday, the Council ordered a worldwide ban on trade with Iraq. Iraq’s response was to formally annex Kuwait on the 8th of August, thus posing a potential threat to Saudi Arabia, the world’s largest oil producer and exporter. This in turn prompted the United States and its Western European NATO allies to rush troops to Saudi Arabia to defer a possible attack. Egypt and several other Arab nations joined the anti-Iraq coalition and contributed forces to the military build-up, known as Operation Desert Shield. Iraq meanwhile built up its occupying army in Kuwait to about 300,000 troops.

  Charles and the rest of his platoon from ‘S’ company were given the news on the 29th November that year, just three months since Charles’ eighteenth birthday, that they were to be deployed to the Gulf with immediate effect. Saddam steadfastly refused to withdraw Iraqi forces from Kuwait, however: he maintained that it would remain a province of Iraq.

  Charles, although nervous at receiving this news, secretly revelled in the prospect of entering into a live combat area and putting his new skills to the test as he and his ‘brothers’ prepared themselves for their forthcoming six-month tour of duty, led by his friend and mentor Marcus Lancaster. The company landed in Saudi Arabia a week later to prepare for instructions. The men received orders they were to take part in Operation Granby, the objective being to flank the opposition Iraqi forces from the left and eventually force them to withdraw from Kuwait.

  ***

  The allied coalition’s military offensive against Iraq began on January 16th – 17th 1991, with a massive U.S.-led air campaign that continued throughout the war. Over the next few weeks, this sustained aerial bombardment, which had been named Operation Desert Storm, destroyed Iraq’s air defences, before attacking its communication networks, government buildings, weapons plants, oil refineries, bridges and roads. By mid-February, the allies had shifted their attacks to Iraq’s forward ground forces in Kuwait and southern Iraq, destroying their fortifications and tanks.

  This gave way to Operation Desert Sabre, a massive allied ground offensive, which was launched northward from eastern Saudi Arabia into Kuwait and southern Iraq on February 24th. Within three days, Arab and U.S forces had retaken Kuwait city in the face of crumbling Iraqi resistance, assisted by the British-led coalition forces from the west — including ‘S’ company from the King’s Own Royal Border Regiment. During this short period, Charles and his unit encountered many pockets of Iraq’s elite Republican Guard units, as they side swiped them from the left. The Republican Guard was a fierce and well-respected foe, and Marcus’ men found themselves coming under heavy enemy fire on numerous occasions. It was on one of these occasions in particular, whilst trying to force the enemy to retreat, that ‘S’ company endured their first and only fatality. One that would prove to have a massive impact on Charles’ life.

  Whilst engaged in live combat with the enemy, and sustaining round after round of Kalashnikov AK 47 gunfire just outside of Kuwait city, the men from ‘S’ company found themselves outnumbered and surrounded, after breaking away from the other allied forces they were recently with to go on a reconnaissance mission to gather intelligence on enemy troops’ numbers and weaponry. As Marcus led the men into a desolate industrial estate just on the outskirts of the city, he inadvertently led them into an ambush; somewhere in the region of forty Republican Guards were strategically hidden in the buildings scattered around them.

  As soon as the enemy spotted the company of eighteen men, they opened fire, quickly pinning ‘S’ company into a small, two storey building — right in the centre of their firing line.

  The men’s training quickly took over before panic could set in, and they took up positions inside the building, close to the broken windows and doors where they could return a volley of fire at the opposing troops.

  Charles’ heart felt as though it would burst right out through his chest as he composed himself and returned short bursts of fire from his standard issue SA80 assault rifle. Although the hairs on the back of his neck stood upright, he was buzzing with adrenaline. He felt as though he was John Rambo from the Sylvester Stallone movies he had seen growing up.

  This went on for the next couple of hours, as Marcus called for aerial support, and was informed that all allied air forces were currently engaged in other active zones. The men just had to dig in and hope that support would come before their ammunition ran out, carefully picking off targets with single bursts as the enemy tried to close in on them. All around them, all they could hear in between grenade blasts and heavy duty rounds, were chants of, ‘Allahu Akbar’ — ‘God is great’ — as the opposing troops sensed a small victory and bayed for western blood. An overwhelming sense of inevitable doom fell upon Charles and his platoon.

  ‘EVERYBODY TAKE COVER!’

  ‘RPG INCOMING!’

  Before any of them had time to react, the rocket propelled grenade tore right through the side of the building, totally exposing the north-westerly rooms to enemy sniper fire. The next thing Charles heard were the screams of one of his fellow soldiers as a .32 calibre sniper round tore right through his thigh muscle, dropping him instantly and leaving him vulnerable to another shot that would possibly end his life.

  Charles automatically sprang into action and dragged the man out of his vulnerable exposure and pulled him into cover, away from the possible scope aimed at him. His medic training quickly coming to the forefront of his mind, he desperately checked to see if the bullet had hit the femoral artery. Fortunately for the man it hadn’t, and there was no trace of left over fragment remaining in the wound as he poured his canteen over it, cleaning the charred wound and swiftly bandaging the leg to stem the blood flow. His colleagues continued to battle on and fire covering rounds to give him time to work.

  Just as he finished applying the dressing, his attention was diverted as one, then another, RPG rained down on the crumbling building they were using for cover. The next wave of attack more devastating than the one before. Just as Charles managed to regain composure and offer return fire with the other men, he was blown clean off his feet as two mortar rounds hit the building simultaneously. Dazed and confused, with ringing in his ears as he struggled to stand back upright, he could make out two of his unit lying on the ground: one appeared to be unconscious, and the other was Marcus, his commanding officer.

  As he neared to where Marcus was lying, he could clearly make out a great amount of blood that seemed to be coming from Marcus’ abdomen. As he rushed to the officer’s aid, he could make out a welcoming sound overhead. He recognised the distinct sound of the approaching Apache helicopters, and knew aerial support was close by.

  ‘Hold on Marcus, they’re here, they’re coming for us.’

  He quickly set about investigating the extent of Marcus’ injury. By now he was able to work undisturbed as the two helicopters above made light work of the Republican Guards futile resistance, quickly eliminating the enemy before bringing the choppers down and offering ground support. Charles got the shock of his life as he removed Marcus’ desert camouflage then his Kevlar body armour. He reeled as he saw a ten inch laceration just above Marcus’ waist — just below where the body armour offered protection. There was a six inch piece of shrapnel sticking out from the wound, and the young officer’s intestines were protruding out through the opening it had created. Marcus could see the look of fear in Charles’ eyes as he desperately tried to keep the intestines from falling out even further.

  Charles administered Marcus with morphine to nu
mb the panic and pain the officer must be feeling. He tried to offer Marcus reassuring words, but knew it was in vain: there was no way he could stem the increasing blood flow, and he knew he would not make the journey back to base. Charles stopped trying to hold the torso together and chose instead to take his friend’s hand in his own. He looked Marcus straight in the eye and began to cry — there was nothing more he could do for his dying friend.

  ‘I’m sorry, Marcus. I’m so sorry, mate, there’s nothing I can do. Please forgive me.’

  Through a pain contorted face, Marcus looked up at Charles and told him. ‘It’s ok, Charlie boy, you did good today, my friend. We fought a good fight. Just do me one favour would you, please?’

  ‘Anything, Marcus, what do you want?’ Charles replied.

  ‘Would you tell my father I tried my best to make him proud? Tell him how well we fought today, please.’

  ‘Of course I will, mate, no problem.’

  Marcus then offered one last remark to his young friend that cut Charles deep to the bone.

  ‘It has been a real honour fighting alongside you, Charlie boy. I couldn’t have wished for a better man to watch my back.’

  ‘The honour was all mine, sir,’ Charles said, his voice choked with emotion as he sat and watched his friend’s eyes close for the very last time.

  Charles knelt there, tears streaking his face, for a very long time as he looked at the dead body before him. He was numb and in shock when the helicopter crew came and helped him and the other wounded men from the building, into the choppers, and away to safety.

  That was the last action Charles was part of in active duty, as the U.S. President George Bush declared a cease fire on February 28th, just a day later, after the last remaining Iraqi resistance collapsed completely. The way was clear for ‘S’ company to return back to the U.K.

  Charles tried to settle back into normal military duties upon his return to Britain, but something just didn’t feel right anymore. Over the following weeks and months he reverted back to his old ways, switching himself off from the rest of the platoon, only doing the bare minimum required of him in his role. He became extremely disillusioned with military life, and felt immense grief and guilt for not being able to save his dying friend.

  Nobody could quite figure out what was wrong with Charles as he became more and more introverted. Even his boxing coach could not get him back into his once ritualistic training regime. Slowly, he fell into a deep, dark depression over the following six months, to the point where he wasn’t even bothering to adhere to the strict army disciplines anymore. He was spending more and more time in the military prison for insubordination as he was becoming extremely difficult to manage and very challenging of authority. It wasn’t until the summer of 1992 that Charles was eventually diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), which the psychiatrist concluded had been brought on after witnessing Marcus’ death in Kuwait the year before.

  At twenty years of age, and after months of counselling, it was decided that Charles would receive an honorary discharge with full pension for service to his country, as the armed forces decided he was no longer fit for duty.

  Chapter 9

  Charles had nowhere to go upon his exit from the army, but due to his savings he had accrued over the last few years, along with his army pension, he was able to immediately put down a deposit on a one bedroom flat. He’d opted to settle down in Lancaster after falling in love with the architecture of the city when he’d visited Marcus’ grief stricken but proud parents to carry out his earlier promise.

  It was here that he started to attend church again every Sunday morning after initially going in to pray for his fallen officer, and forgiveness for not being able to save the young man’s life. Once again he found sanctuary in these familiar surroundings, taking comfort from the words of the Bible, always being brought back to that same verse, Isaiah 49:15.

  Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet I will not forget thee.

  Charles often thought about tracking down his birth mother around this stage of his life, but just could not bring himself to do so: he could not forgive her for abandoning him, for tossing him aside as an innocent new-born, for condemning him to the torture of his youth.

  Charles was at a crossroads in his life. His army career was over, yet he was still a young man and a very long way from retirement age. He pondered what he was going to do with his life from hereon in. He knew he was reasonably comfortable money wise, so he decided to explore options of future career paths, starting by visiting the local Lancaster College nearby, only a five minute walk from his new flat.

  Charles decided he wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere or do anything after settling in Lancaster. With his lifelong love of animals, and his Combat Medical Technician qualifications, he decided he was going to put his two passions together and embark on a five year veterinary science degree course. Charles’ mental health issues started to subside over the following few months as he found a real interest in his course, and as he was studying very long hours, he made little time for others, instead choosing to shut himself away from the world out of college hours, and opting instead to study as many books on veterinary medicine as possible. He did, however, make time a few nights a week to go to the gym; he’d recently become a member of the local leisure centre, after realising that exercise is great help in battling depression. He had missed the euphoric buzz he used to feel after his army day workouts.

  Charles, being ever shy, didn’t have much luck with the opposite sex, as he never knew what to say when females approached him. More often than not, he would blush and freeze if any girl showed an interest in him. True, he did go on a few dates in his first year in Lancaster, after meeting girls either in the gym or in college, but many of them never got beyond a first date, due to lots of uncomfortable silences over dinner. Charles also had a bad habit of taking them to the cinema to watch action movies so he didn’t have to make conversation. Needless to say, nothing ever materialised any further, mainly due to his shyness. He wasn’t particularly bothered, as he had developed serious trust issues over the past few years and could never let himself get too close to another person. He instead opted to visit ‘massage’ parlours and brothels to fulfil his physical needs so he didn’t have to involve emotion. To him it was just a business transaction, and that suited him just fine.

  This all changed during his third year of studies when, as he was walking along the long college corridor, he was left totally speechless and blown away as he noticed a young, slim, mousey haired vision of beauty walking towards him. As she approached him, his feet suddenly firmly rooted to the spot and his nostrils flared as he caught the scent of her sweet perfume. He just stood staring in awe as she flashed him a shy smile. Her skin glowed and she oozed sex appeal in a played-down, understated manner. As she passed him in the hall, he could not take his eyes off her shapely, toned legs that fell from her mid-thigh length floral dress. He practically pulled his neck muscles as he turned to take another look at her firm behind as she casually strolled further away down the corridor and out of his sight.

  Charles had no clue who this girl was; he had never seen her in college before, and presumed she was a new student. But he knew he wanted to get to know her, as in that moment he felt something he had never felt before. His palms were sweaty, his stomach was in knots and his heart raced with excitement at finding out just who this girl was. He wondered if this is what being in love felt like, but couldn’t be sure, as he had never experienced that feeling before. All he knew was that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life, and told himself in that one moment that she would be the girl he would marry. He just didn’t know how to make that dream become a reality yet.

  Charles saw the girl on several occasions over the weeks that followed, but he could never quite muster up the courage to engage in conversation with her. However, he was pretty certain she ha
d taken a fancy to him also, for whenever they did cross paths she would often look his way as if to gain his attention, hoping he might actually talk to her. By this point he had already found out her name — Rebecca — from one of the other students in conversation, but just couldn’t find the right words whenever he came face to face with her.

  All that changed one afternoon. As Charles sat studying in the library, he noticed her enter with two of her friends. But instead of studying with them, she broke away from the others and made her way over to where he was sitting.

  ‘Do you mind if I sit here?’ she asked, as she removed the seat opposite him.

  ‘Err, no, not at all,’ he nervously responded.

  She flashed a clear white smile at his ever reddening face. ‘Charles isn’t it?’

  He tried to divert his blushes by swiftly perusing through his text book that was sat open in front of him. Slowly, he looked up at her, his shifty blue eyes catching hers for an instance. He started to panic; he didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot and blow any future chance of romance with the girl he had already decided was the ‘one’.

  He quickly composed himself, took a deep breath and replied. ‘Yes, and you are Rebecca I believe?’

  ‘Indeed I am. I see that somebody’s been doing their homework?’ she replied playfully.

  He wasn’t too sure how to respond to her question, as he did not want to come across as the sleazy stalker type.

  Before any words could enter his mouth, she said, ‘Relax, I’m just kidding, Charles.’

  Charles immediately felt at ease as they just sat there and smiled at each other for what seemed like an age, but was really only a matter of a few short seconds. Not much studying was done by either party over the next hour, as conversation seemed to flow so freely, and Charles felt so comfortable talking with her after his initial apprehensions.