Stalwart Friends and Their Truth

 Gareth,
you know, we just carry on with our normal lives every day, as if everything is okay, we are all so self focused and self centered.
Just accepting everything as logical and automatically working out well.

Until I get into bed tonight and see that you have liked one of my posts sharing a Sunday afternoon braai with friends and family and then the whole thing jerks me to a halt !! I then suddenly realise that there are you, Gareth, not having the luxuries that we so take for granted. Not having a braai, not having family and friends to socialise with. It almost makes me feel guilty....but I know it shouldn't.
But it does.

Tonight I just want to tell you and share with you my feelings and respect for you and the situation you are in.

There are so many of us that think if you, pray for you, are with you in spirit.
You share our joys with us on facebook. But you know what...every day that passes is a day closer to your freedom. That is for sure.
We all know that and believe that.....all of us who are your facebook friends. And you believe it too.....I know it.

Be strong Gareth...
always on our minds and thoughts. Keep it up partner.....and may I have the privilage to personally shake your hand one day...

​

Hi Gareth.. Da.Lr
Thank you very much for this e mail.
And since I know the limitations of your device, the lengthy reply is even more appreciated.
You show a very deep understanding of the dilemmas that confronted all of us. Your description and vivid images are excellent. I am glad that you enjoy my poetry.
It is good to read the comments from a connoisseur like yourself. You should consider putting this on the 61 FB site.
You are a well known person in 61. I believe it will be received very positively.
Unfortunately I will not know since I am not on the 61 Gp.
Personal problems with the admins.
I do not know your religious connotations and also not your future. But should you consider a real soul enriching experience and also a form of non secular recognition, you should consider a course in Metaphysics as the link. When I was on a all-out low 6 years back this course brought some very valuable perspectives to
6, Gareth Rutherford <rutherfordgareth@gma

Hi Dawid..
I wanted to share a facet of my response to your clear and vivid images on recent posts.
I am so enjoying your writings here silent and alone..and i am most anxious to tell you this.Images of our thoughts when confronted by the "pinch zone"   .. do or die. Combat situations.
I am not as well experienced as you by far.. but still remember these same dilemmas that confronted all of us.
Me then just a little lancejack section medic..As you so poignantly describe...The fear of the bullet that hunts for your destruction and pain.
The fear of Death itself is something else.?. it was something less realistic then to us young boys,  i think.?. quick final and there were few options.
Except maybe.. dying alone.. ?Now there is one i saw..and today still  my lasting sadness.
But not here. Later for that.
Another sad tale..But what happens before such combat situations ...is the part that burns itself deeply into those of us who have been so close to it and dodged it.
Seen the side of its face in an instant and ducked away out of its random clutching reach.
The choices we make.. the training we've had.. the weapons and equipment.. our comrades.. all have direct bearing on life or death here. 
So "random" may be used speculatively i think.
The constant expectation of being taken by that speeding spinning metal projectile.The savage numbing thud..and its impact, as its kinetic energy transfer into your flesh.. A pulp of fragments or death.
Breathless and winded and suffocating you glance down to where your webbing once  covered your stomach to see vapour, dust and blood .. and the numbness.
Or perhaps your leg gone completely and shredded battle fatigues soaked in blood.
And the smell of singed hair ..that same dust ..and your fresh blood... and yet even as the whole world is tilted sideways..Still the hope and trust in knowing that your comrades wont leave you.That they will fetch you..? fix you.?. the medics .. doctors and the great hospitals.?
Frightened more.. alone now they have all gone as the afternoon sun settles low. 
Cant feel your legs.. flies in your face..eyes..Only minutes pass and sand in your mouth..lie still.. no pain..And then sounds of voices .. percussive battle.. and then faces close and supporting.
Gentle words and hands deftly bandaging.. no longer alone..now safe.
Reassurance and relief and hope  consoling the terror.. washed away in floods of adrenaline.
All too soon.. embers of hope seep away... lying in the lee of the vehicle as flies feast and swarm.
 A hand in yours ..as waves of pain sweep through your ebbing hope. Futile tourniques.. morphine and ineffective saline drips.
The rescue too late.. the light grows dim and a prayer at last and a brave knowing smile and closing dry hot eyes and so forever in peace.But not alone.. That is what happened and i am sure much the same as what you have heard before.This was a part of smokeshell i witnessed ...and those  young men who waited so long for casevac.. and died under my care... but with their hands in ours.. gently. 
So Dawid.. this is a tiny bit of what your words ignite in all of us i am sure..And i have never stopped listening to others who tell of much the same.. sadness and loss.. gallantry.. futility and it all just keeps on repeating.

Different place.. different time.. same blood.. brave young men.Same in the Bible.. over and over..Far worse.I love your language usage.. i read it aloud alone here and its articulation reads much more by the fabric of words you choose so beautifully.

I never respond enough as i read the appreciation by so many who have chanced apon your most vivid articulations. 
Most accurate and inspired by your experience and i am sure.. the grateful responses by all of us who devoted our lives to the same causes and live to tell of that war and its secrets that we are perhaps still fighting today.

I hope you make some sense of my language .. as i so enjoy yours.. my afrikaans is fairly fluent and i clearly understand all you say.. even catch your spelling slips.. hahaaa.

But i dont have the vocab i would have,  if i spoke every day so its messy and for use in shorter letters.I am stuck in an arab jail far away from home and I delight in the clear pure afrikaans that is my perfect second language and my great pride.
God bless you and family
Regards
Gareth​

You should consider putting this on the 61 FB site. You are a well known person in 61.
Ja weet jy my maat ek onthou jou goed. Hoe kan ek een van my seuns vergeet. Ja ek is Piet. Julle het my Fris Chris genoem. From my battle training sergeant major.. He remembers me and I'm so happy for this. I'm so proud to be one of the best soldiers he trained.

Gareth, I've only recently become aware of the awful injustice that you've had to endure and I wanted to reach out to you and say that I'd like to add whatever I can bring to those who are already supporting you and who are involved in trying to rectify the grievous wrong that you've suffered - rather late than never I guess??.

I spoke with Geoff Olivier in the week and he has given me Tammy's number (obviously it will be easier for me to understand directly from Tammy where / what / how I might be ble to contribute to the overall effort, if at all). One thing - i work closely with Desmond Tutu and have done so for the last decade (see www.tutudesk.org for the work I do).

I couldn't guarantee his involvement as he's a very old man now; however, after speaking with Tammy I'll have better understanding of everything and if it's at all possible / feasable - and something that wouldn't upset any other efforts - then it might be possible to engage him directly: to ask him to evaluate if he would consider lending assistance, and if 'yes', then to understand in what form etc etc.
As I've indicated I can't offer you any guarantees in this regard; however, I do believe that there could possibly be an outside chance that we could get him involved in siome way, shape or form if approached correctly and with a ccomprehensive dossier of the facts - which would vindicate you and clearly outline the terrible injustice that you've been a victim of.

Ch (20) Son returns Ember Takes Flame

At long last.. after eight agonising years of loss and certain disdain.. there happened a little miracle.

Some may not realise the significance of this delightful incident which took place on June 6th 2016..
After being trashed into jail without knowing how or why the fabulous manipulations were set into place just for a simple chap like me.

A devoted husband and father working thousands of miles away from home,  months at a time under terrifying and dangerous conditions.

This all for the benefit of those alone back home,  and a chance of future economic stability.
I missed being with them so badly while i was away so long and found that on my brief leaves back home,  I had become more of a stranger and a disturbance to the daily routines than a member of the group.

It was heartbreaking for me to see,  but there was no immediate alternative and i kept my head down and excelled at my work further .
Saying anything made no difference, and i found one day i had been booked to see a psychiatrist for assessment.

My son and wife waited for me so gallantly,   but my visits became more of a hinderance than a pleasure.
The two of them became very independent as there was  more than sufficient money to make up for my absence.
And .. they were very busy all the time..

Contentedly they spent months alone in a silent house with no dad on the couch. No one to wash the dogs or service the cars.
No braai on a saturday  . No rugby supporter.. or role model to emulate.

Well as you may gave guessed.. my stay away was extended rather  unexpectedly.. with my roughshod arrest and ludicrous conviction by a kangaroo legal system in the arab spring.

Snatched out of the mainstream and thrown into jail and interrogated under extreme duress without anyone knowing where i was.
For nearly a week i was kidnapped and tormented by the manipulators of this crime.. and led to believe a whole sequence of deviated events.
Made to sign bogus statements in arabic under great duress.
Held under the most appalling conditions,  I suffered such humiliation and cruelty as I longed to explain what had happened to me... to my dear wife and child back home.
No such opportunity was afforded and my seat flew empty back home to south africa where my wife and child waited days  long at arrivals for me.

What a shock two weeks later to hear via the grapevine, that i had been arrested in kuwait with hashish in my cargo.
What a lot of mumbo jumbo and not possible by any manner of means..
The shock and humiliation they had to endure was unbearable..

I was muzzled and shut away out of contact with anyone in order that i did not figure out , or determine in any way,  what had happened or what had caused this comedy of errors.
Days.. weeks.. months... suffering.. shame... heartrending distress... i languished in a pit of snakes and vermin criminals.

To cut a boring story more towards the point i originally was so delighted to share with you...

My son at home grew up without me for eight of his most formative years.
He managed well considering the most miserable humiliation he had to endure as the whispers  of my predicament grew to a cresendo.
At school and all round the neighbourhoods..
Bravely my wife and 9yr old son  waited in hope every day,  with rumours that i would soon be pardoned.. released and exonerated.
My court appearances were an absolute fiasco....all in arabic..
witnessed by British FCO embassy representatives. David Curtis.

Nothing was said,  and i was advised to stay quiet. Behave and be patient.. i was sure to be granted a reprieve soon.

  Five years of waiting alone at home.. my dear ones finally gave up all hope for my release.
My wife had taken advice from a junior school teacher councellor that all contact with the child and father must cease.
To adapt to a life with no mention of me at any time.
The child became completely cloistered even as his uncle requested to see him at school.
No contact.
I begged  over and over for a mobile number and his email.
All to a flat and categoric refusal.

And then  one day,  out the blue,  a month before my mother died of a broken heart...by special diplomatic delivery ...a court document for my divorce arrived.

There were numerous demands for fair distribution of my assets which i happily signed over.. and more.

I gave them all i had worked for my whole life.. willingly .
Still the boy remained shut away and was obsessively shaperoned every minute of the day.
I missed him so badly and heard brief reports of his numerous talents...academic and sporting successes.
All credit to my as "widowed",  ex wife.
She managed her "project"... from cradle to matric.. so far A+

But here i sat.. excommunicated and muzzled.. until i managed to get a tiny phone connected to the internet.
I wrote numerous letters to my mother .. my father and a few dear friends who had written to me.

I wrote most importantly to my son expressing my love and requesting a simple response.
None of  those letters ever found him.
My wife read them all, and tore them up.

Dear friends that visited me here hand delivered letters to the doorstep but to no avail.
Even the headmaster imposed an iron curtain on me , never replying to any of my mails and refusing entry of my brother.

Eight years it took as someone somewhere.. i suspect one of his more sensible schoolmates .? Convinced him to reply to me.

Finally he linked with me on facebook... acknowledging that he had no good reason not to reply and that i should have no hard feelings.

Well.. i was so stunned and elated..and I pored over every word,  savouring its nuance and seeing his face writing that.. wondering what was going through his mind ?

I had to weigh up my response carefully and after a long while thinking... I replied briefly of my great relief.. and that we would have plenty of time now .. to catch up.
What a great step forward this has been after all these silent years.

How many of my dear caring friends have known of this but have been too afraid to confront my now ex wife.

Still i love her.. and hold no grudge.
A terrible burden she carried alone
A rage... a reprisal or a reason to judge
My errors.. my heart.. never back home.

My dear son .. my absolute delight
My reason for living
Now blessed with new insight
Ive missed years of giving
Im so tired now .. no more fight
Still i love them both so much...
Dont think ill ever be  right
But  at least theres a flame now burning bright.
My boy now connected...the end is in sight.
Thank you my caring friends for following my plight.
My duty now to return to you all the great things youve done
And to include you all in this story a happy ending and then some
We are going to have a party with no expense spared.
Right through the night till the rising sun.
My tears of joy and my heart once again bared.
All this for you.. Michael.my son.