We in Plymouth have contributed to this nation’s history as much as any other major city. This has continued through recent conflicts. It cannot be right that our transport, health and other spending settlements are less than half of what they are elsewhere. In a seat that once elected Michael Foot, I do not underestimate the burden of trust that the people of my city have placed at my door to ensure that we as a government deliver a more resilient, stable and fair economy that must include better funding settlements from central government for our core services in Plymouth.
I want to speak briefly about my two main missions in this Parliament. First, mental health provision in this country remains poor. There are some extremely dogged and determined characters who fight night and day to improve the services offered to those who struggle with mental health problems. Often, those who struggle with mental health problems cannot shout for themselves, and suffer in silence because of the ridiculous stigma placed on mental health. That stigma ends in this Parliament. It is not good enough to have sympathy, empathy even, or simply to understand these issues when they affect someone close to us. It is time to get this right and I look forward to starting this crusade in Plymouth.
Secondly, the past decade and a half has defined a whole generation of us in often unseen wars against enemies of the state that only seem to grow darker. We have no complaints about the duty that we have chosen. It formed many of us; indeed, it made many of us who we are today. We were proud to defend this great nation in the same traditions of the immense sacrifices of our forefathers. However, last week my right honourable friend the Prime Minister spoke of the gravity of the end of combat operations in Afghanistan. For many families, that marks the end of the sleepless nights by the phone and the ever-dreaded knock at the door.
I am sorry to report, however, that there remains a great stain on this nation of ours when it comes to conflict. In 2012, we reached a very unwelcome threshold when, tragically, more soldiers and veterans killed themselves than were killed on operational service in defence of the realm. It goes without saying that there are some genuine heroes in our communities and charities up and down this land who work tirelessly night and day to look after and assist those who have found returning to a peaceful life the biggest challenge of all. A great many of these veterans are not only from Afghanistan.
My key point is this: there has been a fundamental misunderstanding by governments of all colours over the years that veterans’ care is a third sector responsibility and that the great British public, in all their wonderful generosity, support our troops well enough, and any new initiative is met with the response, ‘Well, there must be a charity for that.’ That is fundamentally and unequivocally wrong, and I make no apologies for pointing it out to anyone of any rank or position who may be offended by my candour.
I am not a charity and neither were my men. We gave the best years of our lives in defending the privileges, traditions and freedoms that this House and all members enjoy. It is therefore the duty of this House to look after them and, crucially, their families, when they return. I would be grateful if you granted me your patience, Mr Deputy Speaker, to bring just two of them to the attention of the House this evening.
Lance Sergeant Dan Collins of the Welsh Guards was typical of the soldiers I was privileged to command in my tours of Afghanistan. His story had a profound effect on me. I implore members to look him up tonight before they go to bed and to read his story. He endured events that were atypical of a fighting man’s deployment in that theatre. He returned to Britain’s arms a deeply scarred man and entered a dark, dark place that too many are familiar with. Dan worked hard to try to find treatment that worked for him, but repeated changes of staff and six-hour round trips for appointments did very little indeed. He fought his demons with the same spirit and courage that he had demonstrated on a daily basis against the enemies of the state in foreign fields. When he returned home, however, unlike when he was in his battalion, we did not have his back.
Dan liked to take on his demons alone in the mountains, where perhaps the outside arena made him feel more empowered. However, in 2012, during the period of new year’s celebrations – that time of year when all the world is celebrating – Dan recorded a video message for his mum on his mobile phone. He said:
‘Hey, Mum. Just a video, just to say I’m sorry. Ever since I came back from Hell I’ve turned into a horrible person and I don’t like who I am any more.’
He went on to say: ‘I’ve tried everything, and there’s nothing that seems to be working. I love you, and I’ll see you, okay? I love you.’
With that, our nation failed one of her bravest sons once more, as yet another victim of the Afghanistan war lost his life, not bleeding out in some dusty foreign field in the intense pressures of combat but in his homeland, which he had fought so hard to defend.
Next Monday, it will be five years to the day since I conducted a particular dawn patrol in southern Afghanistan with my troops. We were enduring one of the most contested fighting seasons of that campaign in 2010, and fear was rife. I was particularly blessed to have with me in my small team a man of colossal courage called Lance Bombardier Mark Chandler, who in our role was duty-bound to protect me in close-quarter combat while I continued in our primary trade. While most people in this country were still in a morning slumber, we closed in on an enemy position, and in an intense close-quarter gunfight Mark was shot in the face right next to me and died in my arms.
In the five years since, I have become intimately familiar with another quiet yet very stoical group of casualties of this country’s war.
Mike and Ann Chandler, Mark’s parents, like parents, wives, sisters and brothers up and down this land, now endure a daily sacrifice. It is very difficult for those of us who have not experienced it to truly grasp the bottomless well of grief that comes from losing a child, husband, brother or sister in war as a result of a grave decision made in this House. Theirs is the greatest sacrifice on the altar of this nation’s continuing freedom, and it is a price that is paid daily. For many families up and down this land, it is indeed at every going down of the sun and every morning that we remember them.
I come here, unapologetically, to improve the plight of veterans and their families. The last government under this Prime Minister did more than any before it in this cause, but there is still some way to go. It is a deep privilege to come to this House with the hopes of tens of thousands of Plymothians, and I do not underestimate the duty that is incumbent upon me in the years ahead. I cannot promise anything but noble endeavour, relentless positivity and an abounding sense of duty to look after those who, through no fault of their own, find themselves on the fringes of society, and who find life an interminable struggle. I look forward to the challenge.
GLOSSARY
2IC second-in-command
3RHA 3rd Regiment Royal Horse Artillery
Ack closest assistant, right-hand man
AK47 assault rifle
ANA Afghan National Army
ANGLICO Air Naval Gunfire Liaison Company (US Marine Corps)
AO area of operations
AQ Al Qaeda
BDA Battle Damage Assessment
Bergan rucksack
CamelBak hydration pack
CAS close air support
CASEVAC casualty evacuation
CH-47 Chinook helicopter
CO commanding officer
CPR cardiopulmonary resuscitation
de-confliction the separation or organization of airspace to allow airframes to operate safely
ECAS Emergency Close Air Support
FOB Forward Operating Base
frag grenade fragmentation grenade
FST Fire Support Team
GPMG general-purpose machine gun, the standard infantry machine gun of the British Armed Forces
Grot military slang for accommodation room and/or bed-space
HE high explosive
HESCO bastion system of wire-cage blocks used to create a pr
otective barrier or perimeter wall
HLS helicopter landing site
Huey an attack helicopter
Husky landmine and IED detection vehicle
ICOM handheld radio system used by the Taliban
IED improvised explosive device
ISAF International Security Assistance Force
jet shorthand for any fixed-wing air platform delivering close air support to troops in contact
joint fires co-ordinated air, artillery and mortar fire
JTAC Joint Terminal Attack Controller
Kandak company of the Afghan National Army
Kevlar plate body armour
MEDEVAC medical evacuation
MERT Medical Evacuation and Response Team
monkey walk walking in a crouched position
NCO non-commissioned officer
NEB Nahr-e-Bughra (Canal)
OC officer commanding
OMLT Operational Mentoring and Liaison Team
on point in the forward position in a military formation
Ops room operations room
ORBAT Operational Order of Battle
Pan/flight Pan – the area in a camp separated for the operation of aircraft
PB patrol base
pulk sledge used to carry equipment in the Arctic
QRF quick reaction force
R&R rest and recuperation
RFA Royal Fleet Auxiliary
RPG rocket-propelled grenade
RSM regimental sergeant major
Rupert derogatory term for a military officer
RV rendezvous
sangar protected sentry post normally located around the perimeter of a base
SATCOM satellite communications
SF Special Forces
SITREP situational report
tab march (from TAB, tactical advance to battle)
TiC troops in contact
TRIM Trauma Risk Management
uptick small or incremental increase
VA vulnerable area
wadi dry river valley
wash-up informal debrief
WMIK Weapons Mount Installation Kit, a stripped-down Land Rover
yomp the Commandos’ word for tab.
WE WERE WARRIORS
Johnny Mercer served in the British Army for twelve years. A captain in 29 Commando, he was deployed on three tours of Afghanistan, and weathered some of the heaviest fighting of the campaign. No longer prepared to tolerate Britain’s treatment of her veterans, he retired from the Army in December 2013 to run for Parliament. He was elected in May 2015 for his home seat of Plymouth Moor View, and used his maiden speech to bring the realities of his generation of warriors to the floor of the House of Commons, in a speech hailed around the globe. Johnny and his family settled near Plymouth, where he continues to serve as an MP.
Praise for We Were Warriors
‘A highly charged, vivid and moving account of frontline combat, and then an even harder fight to honour the sacrifice of so many. Utterly compelling throughout’
Tom Newton Dunn, Political Editor, Sun
‘One of the great British accounts of close combat, matching Orwell in Catalonia and MacDonald Fraser in Burma. It is the inner conflict, as much as closing with a shadowy enemy, that gives the book its edge . . . His exploration of fear, and the dread of fear, is profound . . . a remarkable book by a man remarkable in his humanity and courage’
Robert Fox, Evening Standard
‘Beautifully written, Johnny Mercer’s account of his personal journey through a conflicted childhood, on to Sandhurst, into the Commandos, and then out to Afghanistan, and eventually Parliament, is a real page-turner. Moving, honest, humble and never naive, it’s a must-read for anyone who wants to understand the real quality of our fighting forces’
Sir Sherard Cowper-Coles, British Ambassador to Afghanistan 2007–9
‘This is a gripping and honest story of one man’s escape from the frying pan of an unhappy childhood into the fire of combat. From the brutal initiation of Sandhurst’s Rowallan Company to the killing fields of Afghanistan – it bears testimony above all to the redemptive power of that extraordinary institution, the British Army’
Mark Urban
‘Full of gory details of war; moments where suddenly there’s something in your eye and others where you laugh. Mercer’s sense of humour is as dry as the desert around Camp Bastion’
i newspaper
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1. On exercise on Salisbury Plain, in my early days as a commando officer.
2. On the rope over the regain tank on my Commando Course at Lympstone, winter 2003.
3. Jungle training in Belize, 2005. I ate, shat and fought like an animal and loved it.
4. Jim Philippson, who was rather like a big brother to me.
5. Jimmy Goddard and me in Norway, 2004.
6. Jimmy’s peerless efforts on Mount Kilimanjaro in June 2006.
7. Trying to brush up on my mortar skills on my first tour to Afghanistan in 2006.
8. With Bing (left) and Baz (right) at PB Khaamar, 2010.
9. Bing (standing), Baz and me in our tent.
10. Bing takes a knee and looks over at me. My favourite picture of him.
11. On patrol, finding time for a cigarette.
12. Dawn in Afghanistan.
13. In the Ops room with Baz.
14. I always felt drawn to the children in Afghanistan, and what they had to endure.
15. I respected my men as individuals and as soldiers, and always felt they respected me in return.
16. The memorial we had built for Bing at PB Khaamar.
17. With Bing’s parents, spring 2011.
18. Amalie and I spent much time together on the moor in Cornwall near our home, as I struggled to readjust after my 2010 tour. She was my rock.
19. The River Tamar is one of the most beautiful river valleys in the UK; it was another source of comfort to me as the scars began to fade.
20. Felicity’s and my wedding day, 19 July 2014.
21. Campaigning in St Budeaux with Joey on my back, January 2015.
22. On my campaign bike in some terrible weather, as I knocked on voters’ doors, Plymouth March 2015.
23. At the count when Felicity and I first realized I was to be an MP for Plymouth.
24. At home, Cornwall, autumn 2015.
1. On exercise on Salisbury Plain, in my early days as a commando officer.
2. On the rope over the regain tank on my Commando Course at Lympstone, winter 2003.
3. Jungle training in Belize, 2005. I ate, shat and fought like an animal and loved it.
4. Jim Philippson, who was rather like a big brother to me.
5. Jimmy Goddard and me in Norway, 2004.
6. Jimmy’s peerless efforts on Mount Kilimanjaro in June 2006.
7. Trying to brush up on my mortar skills on my first tour to Afghanistan in 2006.
8. With Bing (left) and Baz (right) at PB Khaamar, 2010.
9. Bing (standing), Baz and me in our tent.
10. Bing takes a knee and looks over at me. My favourite picture of him.
11. On patrol, finding time for a cigarette.
12. Dawn in Afghanistan.
13. In the Ops room with Baz.
14. I always felt drawn to the children in Afghanistan, and what they had to endure.
15. I respected my men as individuals and as soldiers, and always felt they respected me in return.
16. The memorial we had built for Bing at PB Khaamar.
17. With Bing’s parents, spring 2011.
18. Amalie and I spent much time together on the moor in Cornwall near our home, as I struggled to readjust after my 2010 tour. She was my rock.
19. The River Tamar is one of the most beautiful river valleys in the UK; it was another source of comfort to me as the scars began to fade.
20. Felicity’s and my wedding day, 19 July 2014.
21. Campaigning in St Budeaux with Joey on my back, Januar
y 2015.
22. On my campaign bike in some terrible weather, as I knocked on voters’ doors, Plymouth March 2015.
23. At the count when Felicity and I first realized I was to be an MP for Plymouth.
24. At home, Cornwall, autumn 2015.
First published 2017 by Sidgwick & Jackson
First published in paperback 2017 by Sidgwick & Jackson
This electronic edition published 2018 by Pan Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-5098-5301-4
Copyright © Johnny Mercer 2017
Cover images: Front © WPA Pool / Pool
Getty Images and courtesy Johnny Mercer,
spine and flap © Shutterstock
The right of Johnny Mercer to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
We Were Warriors Page 28