Guilt or Innocence
There were bonds of gold as hundreds of veterans
reached out to me, as I lay incarcerated in a foreign prison far away and
hopelessly cut off from any contact with family and friends.
Friendships
forged over years of living and working and training together as young soldiers,
extended out to me there without condemnation or reserve.
As I found
myself lost in the depths of a foreign Jail, lonely and bewildered by a savage
injustice, the same we see in global structures today where the real criminals
rule and good men are silenced. There were many barriers for me to overcome
before I was able to determine what had happened and there were no lawyers or
diplomats powerful enough to overcome the almighty judicial authority.
The only course
left to me was to persevere because to fail or give up at this stage would
leave me condemned even as I contemplated suicide. Initially the prison conditions
were horrific as I battled to find my place amongst many others also desperate
to survive. Boarding school and army had prepared me well for this ordeal but no
previous lodgings were as tough as this for me, after having been completely
wiped out of life and blackened with a crime so false and impossible that I was
sure every day that someone would come to their senses soon enough. They did
not
and as the months rolled on it looked like
they would all soon forget me.
They
didn’t.
Veterans far and wide got to hear
about this and talked amongst themselves. In time I managed to get to an
illegal phone where I was able to initiate widespread contact and report on the
situation. News amongst our networks spread and more key figures managed to get
into close contact with me as I sat so firmly muzzled in this maximum security
prison holding hordes of murderers and drug traffickers. I found myself alone,
as I was a tall European amongst a sea of others. I stuck out quite prominently
and became accustomed to the way they would all watch me wherever I went. There
were not many that could speak English and I could not speak Arabic at all.
Embassy was
concerned for my welfare as I was so frequently accosted by fanatical extremist
Isis inmates. The prison authorities were then compelled to place me into a
different block for political prisoners where many spoke English. As time went
by I was able to set a good example wherever I went. I cleaned the sludge off
the floor and wiped the grunge off the black shower walls. There were actually
white tiles under there and I started the long process of cleaning that no one
else had ever considered doing. My shower space became bright and clean and
many came in to see it. I said nothing ,
The dusty
exercise yards were knee high in litter, cigarette stubs and cat shit. Every
day I would fill a dustbin bag as the others sat slouching against the walls.
Watching me. Then I would run
circuits and they would watch frowning
with disapproval at my unusually disturbing activity. Every day that yard got
cleaner and soon a few started to join me collecting the stinking mess. There
are nine yards like that alongside each of the blocks and all of them were
equally covered in refuse. Empty drink bottles, cans, boxes, chip packets,
tins, foam food containers and cigarette ends. The wardens started to see the difference.
I said nothing. They just watched.
The veterans were clearly becoming quite worried
about me when the embassy was unable to make any effective approach. They then
initiated closer contact with the Embassy via London and Washington, which made
a big difference for me as more interest in my welfare was exposing the
situation better and preventing it all being swept under the carpet. School
friends and veterans began to send me small amounts of money which was a huge
relief and for me it was confirmation that there were so many out there who
really cared. My spirits were buoyed and I was able to buy a small illegal
mobile phone with a Wi-Fi router which changed everything. More and more comrade
veterans realised that there was definitely something very wrong with the
system that had so carelessly condemned me. For the Kuwaiti prosecutors it was
a means to point fingers away from their own. No amount of cooperation or
logical explanations would convince them of their error. The more I tried to
cooperate, the deeper the hole became. It was clearly futile to attempt to
explain everything where there were no credible witnesses or any valid
evidence. The Veterans did not stop
trying to get in touch with me and kept up the pressure on Embassy. General
Roland sent me a military book which the embassy felt would not be permitted
into the prison system, so I never received it. I watched it’s progress on my
little phone as it travelled from stage to stage as many vets undertook to get
the book to Kuwait and then on to me. I am so grateful to them even so, for
their efforts and compassion in this undertaking.
What
followed here was the gradual recovery of my self-esteem as my alleged convictions
became more clearly delinquent to everyone. It was clear that the most senior
prison managers were aware that they had imprisoned the wrong guy, but they
were powerless to interfere with the judicial decree or all the powerful
political motives. I finally earned my own cell and took pride in making it
comfortable and clean in preparation for what I could see was going to be a
long stay. My shower is through that
blue door in the photo and the tiles are sparkling white.
The HC medal
I received way back in 1980 suddenly became a more prominent issue as it
highlighted my military background along with a commendable reputation which
all helped to improve my political profile at the embassy and amongst thousands
of veterans. As far as I was concerned all that heroism was gone and past but
our vets dredged it all up and presented it loud and clearly in the many
appeals for my complete exoneration and immediate release. I needed any and all
the glowing testimonials I could lay my hands on from far and wide. Greatly
respected and revered friends and veterans alike began to direct powerful
letters of appeal to the embassies and the Kuwaiti authorities. Some wrote to
the Queen and prime ministers, Tony Blair, Gordon Brown, David Cameron only to
receive polite avoidances and ominous silences. It became clear there was no
one who would dare confront the wayward Kuwaiti judiciary at the risk of
damaging political relations during this period of the Arab Spring. My own
family endured the most terrible levels of shame as my convictions were further
confirmed and the steel doors closed down even tighter. Petitions started
circulating and the local newspapers published an article which tracked the
number of responses that were mounting every day. See attached photo. Soon the prison bosses had seen my picture in
the papers and brought the situation to the attention of the Kuwaiti
authorities. The veterans rallied and the Kuwait authorities searched
desperately for an excuse to get rid of me. They could not concede that they
had made this mistake costing my company millions of dollars in lost contracts
and great embarrassment.. they could not set me free too early either so they
waited for the birthday of their leader, the Amir of Kuwait. On the very same
day exactly ten years after my arrest I was lifted onto the shoulders of
hundreds of cheering inmates who carried me to the waiting escort at the huge
steel door that had held me so tightly all these years. It was always a joyful
occasion as each of us finally left through that thick steel door. I gave my tools
and all my most precious possessions away. Often it was equally sad to see the
faces of so many of those still left behind, with so many more years to wait. I
was even more inspired as I received communications from a few of the greats,
Dippies, Roland, Dawid.L ,Terblanche and Savides. Highlanders and Steenkamp
amongst many esteemed veteran leaders.
61 Veterans
all became aware of the situation and grouped together very effectively. Their
efforts inflated my heart as I took on new challenges. I learnt to read and
write in Arabic and participated in intensive religious studies at the Islamic
schools within the prison system. I joined the workshops and took on several
courses as an electrician and a TV satellite technician. My privileges were
extended as the prison managers saw my efforts and the examples that I had been
setting.
So much more positive achievements transpired
as I received so much encouragement from our veteran groups all over the world.
They cared and I was proud to be one of them as much as they were all so proud
of me.
I took on
every day with success and started playing the musical instrument as the music
so long dear revived inside my heart. I was able to send a recording which I
played, of the hymn, “Amazing Grace” which was played at my dear mother’s
funeral. My son started to interact we me gradually over Whatsapp and shared
with me some clips he had recorded of himself playing the saxophone so
beautifully.
There were
so many concerned and generous friends ,family and veterans who all contributed
to the vast combined freedom project. It definitely made a huge difference. It
worked.
The day
finally came when I was escorted to the Airport and ushered onto a plane to
London where I was met by Family, friends and veterans. My airfares paid in
full by great friends and veteran groups. Onward I went to Johannesburg and Cape
town where further great welcomes awaited me.
Many who had shared in the
anguish of this unfortunate human travesty. Many who had watched as my old
mother and youngest brother both died waiting for my return. Many who had
watched in sadness and horror at the shame and loss endured by my young son and
brave Wife Linda who found themselves completely destitute and abandoned on a
single day in 2008. I finally returned
home and was able to attend a number of welcoming functions for both family and
military veterans.
There was no
more shame in the end and once again, I regained my greatest pride being
once again, a 61Mech Veteran.
My
gratitude to you all
Home safe November 2018
Incentives
to persevere
Recognition
of the great honour of bravery awards and good reputation
Conflicts
of guilt over a war long past
The Arrival
of the Ratel Book and support from great veteran Leaders
Acknowledgement
by Embassy that there was more to this lone prisoner
Diplomatic
pressure and ever increasing social media exposure.
Outpouring
of sympathy and financial assistance from near and far.
Airfares
and travel funding afforded by veteran individuals.
