Through a Glass Darkly
Personal testimony of Majar
Alan Smith on the incident of the night of
I received orders evening January 6th
to proceed direct to
On arriving in Richmond, I placed HQ in a
nearby public house and ordered the placement of OPs
overseeing the auction rooms where Abu-Sidhu was due
to collect a purchase on behalf of a Ms Karen Doherty, the London lawyer who
vanished, recently (she had IRA connections).
While awaiting the subject's arrival, we observed
a land-rover carrying two women and three men park and remain stationary for
several hours. They too seemed to be observing the auction rooms closely and
twice a member of this group entered the building to check on the presence of
Ms Doherty's purchase. Two members of this group later established their own OP
at the back of the building.
With the arrival of Abu-Sidhu
in a white 4-wheel drive transit, it became obvious that he was also of
interest to them. But their tactics at all times were amateurish in the extreme
and they succeeded only in raising the alertness level of the subjects, at one
point even provoking violence.
I was reluctantly forced to abort our
initial plan of a quick surgical take as the likelihood of a fire-fight and
concomitant civilian casualties was now too high. Two men secured one of these
civilians, Adam Walters, and under interrogation he admitted that they were working for Mahmoud Hussein, a cousin of Saddam Hussein's
and at one time a leading figure in his WMD program.
Though our initial plan was compromised, I
was reluctant to withdraw, having made contact with the subjects. Instead, I
ordered Abu-Sidhu followed. I was not surprised to
learn that the amateurs were also following him. Adam Walters remained under
guard by two troopers as I moved my whole group, the lead car tailing both Abu-Sidhu and the amateurs.
Abu-Sidhu was
observed turning off the road on to a forestry track that we determined led
only to the top of an isolated hill. (Gallows Hill is to the north of a back
road running between the villages of Scargill and Barningham, some 10 miles NW of Richmond and 2 miles S of
the A66. The forestry track runs from the SE foot of Gallows Hill to within 30
yards of the summit, approaching from the east.
Once the subjects' vehicle was out of
sight, we sealed the track with three vehicles, sending the fourth car to
ensure the amateurs did not interfere with this second operation. The amateurs
dropped both women and one man by the roadside before the remaining male
amateur departed the area with their vehicle. Once out of sight, the three
dropped amateurs were secured by two troopers and brought to our makeshift base
at the foot of the hill where they were placed in one car with Adam Walters and
guarded.
Meanwhile, I had offered a new battle plan
via our uplink communicator and received authorisation. Troopers Renfrew and
Wise would remain at the foot of the hill to prevent escape by vehicle and to
guard the captives while the rest of the troop converged on the subjects on the
hilltop in three pairs: Corporal Bramhall and trooper
Price would approach from the W, Sgt Cartwright and trooper Savage from the NE,
trooper Thomas and I from the south. Savage and Bramhall
would carry rifles, the rest of us MP5s.
We allowed 20 minutes for all personnel to
get in to position, the plan being to get close before hailing the subjects and
calling for surrender. If the subjects failed to comply within twenty seconds,
Savage or Bramhall, depending on who had best view, would
put a single round through Abu-Sidhu's leg. Any
attempt to return fire would draw lethal response.
Bramhall and Price moved off first by car, five
minutes later I led the remaining men up the track. We split half way up, as
soon as we could see the transit van. I observed a second vehicle apparently
discarded close by. At this point we turned radios off in case the subjects
were alerted by inadvertent noise. All radios would be turned back on in the
event of shooting once surprise had been achieved. All as SOP.
Thomas and I followed the contour to the
left before advancing with care. We were slow as the going was tough but once
we had targets in sight, we resorted to crawling and came to within 30 yards of
the van. We could hear the targets' voices in a religious chant.
At this point, Thomas alerted 'contacts
left'. I followed his direct but saw nothing. As I returned my attention to the
targets, both Thomas and I heard gunfire from behind our right shoulders, from
the foot of the hill - two quick bursts from an MP5 followed by one very long
that probably emptied the magazine. This could only have come from Renfrew and
Wise. It was unsettling but no further fire was heard and we had no choice but
to attend to our targets, now no doubt alerted and reaching for weapons.
Astonishingly, it looked as if they hadn't
heard but I nonetheless signalled Thomas to follow me in as we could no longer
rely on the element of surprise.
It must have been at this point that the
gas hit me. I remember seeing a blue glow and a black vapour emanating from the
van. Then things went very strange: I thought I saw a tree come to life and throw
a body in to a tree top but I completely lost track of the targets.
I remember Thomas charging past me,
screaming maniacally as he emptied an entire magazine. I heard more rapid fire
from MP5s and automatic rifles from left and front right but this was not in
the controlled bursts as per training. I saw Thomas with his back to a tree as
he changed magazines. I shouted to him to conserve his ammunition but he just
stared at me with wild eyes before ducking around the tree and charging back in
to the fray. The men called him 'Cool Owen', you know. I thought at the time
was that he was suffering from acute combat fatigue, but I now realise he must
have been heavily under the influence of the psychotropic agent.
By now it was clear we were hopelessly
compromised. The squad should all have had their radios back on so I ordered
everyone out, but I'm not sure how many heard. I last saw trooper Thomas
standing just yards away from his target as he emptied his second mag. When that was empty he threw his gun away, though he
had at least another mag, and drew his pistol. I
don't think he can have had his radio on as I could see him screaming but I
couldn't hear him. That's the last I saw of him.
I worked my way out, I thought by the same
route we'd come in but I got turned around in the confusion. In fact I was
moving more westward than south and I stumbled across Price. I walked right in
to his line of fire. He was kneeling, repeatedly pulling the trigger of his
empty gun, hysterically screaming, "Mike! Mike! Watch out!"
I shouted to him that we should get out
together. He didn't seem to hear either (though his radio was definitely
working) so I grabbed his collar and started dragging him away. By now he'd discarded
his MP5 to draw his pistol, continuing to shoot wildly at the hilltop even
while I dragged him head first through the undergrowth. He kept pulling the
trigger when his gun was empty. I recall telling him to stop the infernal
clicking in case the 'thing' on the hilltop followed us. It's strange; though
everything else has faded a little, I still have nightmares about the sound of
that empty clicking pistol.
Eventually I got us both down the hill
somewhere near the road and prised Price's pistol from his hand. By now he'd
totally collapsed and all I could do was hold him as he sobbed. I spent a lot
of time listening for the sound of pursuit from above. I don't know how long we
stayed there. It was pretty tense. I tried to quieten Price, get him to pull
himself together, but he seemed to have retreated in to some private hell.
Then I heard something coming along the
road. It sounded like something big, shuffling in the ditch. Price heard it
too; his eyes snapped open and he held his breath. It went eerily quiet. We
both lay back in the undergrowth, trembling like jelly. The click seemed
deafening as I eased off the safety on my MP5, though I know from training that
it can't be heard more than a few yards away.
We heard whatever it was stop as it came
abreast our position. Then it seemed to come closer and it sounded like it was
trying to force a path toward us.
Of course this must have been a delusion
caused by the gas, but I have to emphasise that at the time I didn't feel under
narcotic influence at all. There was just this air of 'unreality' to
everything, like it was some sort of dream. I suppose in a way that's exactly
what it was.
The 'thing' seemed to mess about close to
us for ages, but eventually we heard it retreat back to the road and shuffle
off westward. I remember both Price and I let out gasps as we started breathing
again. I hadn't even known I'd been holding my breath.
Neither of us wanted to stay in the wood,
though it was the best cover available. Price seemed to be functioning again so
we moved down and across the road, hiding in the ditch on the far side. The visual memory I'll carry to my
grave was the break in the plants. It looked like something big had crushed the
undergrowth and smaller trees from the road to about half way to where we'd
been hiding; a distance of perhaps twenty yards or so. I know it was an
illusion, but I still have nightmares about it.
There was a thin black slime over a lot of
the vegetation all the way up to head height and the trail seemed to stretch
off both ways along the road. The stuff was kind of like blood, only black and
foul-smelling, sort of like rotten meat, only that's a sweet smell and this was
bitter. I've never smelt anything like it. Horrible! Yes, I've had dreams about
that, too. Whenever I think of it I have to keep telling myself it was just the
gas…just the gas.
We saw and heard nothing more until the
police turned up. I've been told it was only an hour or so but it seemed much
longer. That's when we found out about what happened to Renfrew and the
civilians. Seeing Ms Patel's body didn't give me any trouble at all, you just
couldn't equate that shrivelled husk with anything human.
I understand the
police also secured one of the terrorists; good for them. This is the worst SAS
disaster since Bravo Two Zero!