Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Ch (1) The Basic Events....

I started working at Inchcape Shipping Services trading as KMMC in Kuwait in September  2003 as an operations maintenance manager...and as  a civil eng tech with  military expertise.

My tasks included,  amongst many others,  the supply of men machines and materials to coalition forces stationed all the way from Mosul in the North ,  down through many cities across the face of lraq  to Basrah in the extreme South.

Initially  in  2003, l drove everywhere in company vehicles alone carrying my own weapons  but as matters deteriorated.. our movements came to be strictly under escort by military units at all times. 

I have photos of all these activities on disc back home.

Insurance requirements became  very strict and meant that we had to travel inside military tanks and armoured vehicles.. and on extreme occasions when travelling in our own company vehicles ..only within strict scheduled and protected convoys.. and then in the latter stages from 2005/6 only by heavy armour or by helicopter to various locations away from the basrah airport operations centre where we were based.
It was scary and very dangerous as a helicopter  was shot down over the city 2007 killing crew and a journalist and  similar accidents occurred quite frequently.

We naturally cut down our movements to the bare minimum  and I flew to Kuwait to collect personnel and cash about once a month.. or maybe every six weeks.

As l mention.. the security situation deteriorated early 2006 and a number of my collegues opted out of the scary war ..left the operational area..  and l fell into a more senior position and became the most senior field operations manager over the entire project. 

Port operations at Umm Qassar separated from my control but l still flew in from time to time by helicopter and dropped off large quantities of cash for the execution of shipping services as they required.

All my flights were on military aircraft.. authorised by British ministry of defence (MOD) and as my activities were all operational .. my travel authorisations were military vetted by British Military Attache at the Embassy in Kuwait.

I required no passport and carried only a laminated UK. MOD military authorisation registered with the Kuwait Ministry of Interior.

Copies of all these authorisations are on file at  Inchcape  Shipping Services in Kuwait.

My name was listed on the passenger manifest for that flight on that night of 17th Sept 2008.

As a supplier  of labour ..materials and machines to a number of different subcontractors... l sourced all our requirements and spoke with many local suppliers in lraq.

I was a networker and knew everybody..  and everyone knew me after five full years in theatre.

Inchcape supplied transport for cement delivered to Basra from Kuwait.. for use on construction projects for the UK MOD.

We arranged with military for the refuelling and return of the trucks within military convoys back to Kuwait.

One day,  for reasons l do not know.. politics intervened in our operations because someone somewhere in the Kuwait supply chain... had been left out.

Noses were out of joint and  Kuwait authorities blocked the passage of 18 fully loaded cement trucks forbidding further of export of kuwait cement to lraq...

The main contractors were forced to make urgent alternative arrangements to locate Iraqi produced cement from a factory in Nasriya. 

I had an arrangement with the main lraqi building contractor working for the same primary client as Inchcape. 
My company had till now,  been supplying all the cement from Kuwait... to him for use  on the MOD contracts within the military enclave at Basrah airport.

Inchcape and the Iraqi Contractor, together,  supplied goods and services to the main contractor building four very large.. rocket proof mess halls and a hospital.

A lower grade lraqi cement was inconsistent , and failed in strength tests, and so it became imperative that the batches bought from Iraq were very carefully monitored ...and for every batch,  there were samples sent to Kuwait for specialist laboratory testing.

This had to be done quickly  and  efficiently and road transport was too inconsistent and unwieldy.

My team was able to palletise every batch sample and to get it onto consistent and reliable military air  cargo... and we provided this service to the lraqi contractors who paid lnchcape cash.

That is the cash i carried with me that day in my briefcase along with all the billing details.

A consignment of test samples was supposed to be ready for shipment by the 20th  September.. but I was going on leave on 17th.

The lraqi contractors were clearly annoyed with me for leaving to go on leave before l had supervised the labeling and packaging and shipping of the samples. 

But the cement had not even left the factory in Nasriya yet and l was quite sure my collegues were competent enough to do the job in my absence.

So I left and flew out midnight of the  17thsept2008.  

I flew out on a hercules troop plane with UK embassy staff travelling home from Baghdad,  along with many soldiers.. as I carried only my body armour helmet and briefcase with paperwork and the cement money.

I arrived at the Kuwait military airport and went through all the high security checks before leaving with the embassy staff in the black embassy suv.

After l had arrived back at the little hotel which Inchape chose to use.. l took the company vehicle to get to my office where I was to go over all the paperwork and finances for the next few weeks.

As l drove to my office.. the lraqi contractors phoned me from their location on site in Basrah airport in lraq.

They asked me why l had not waited till 20th sept to facilitate the test samples to get to Kuwait. 

I explained that my team would be doing the task and they could phone me anytime if there was any problem. They were clearly very annoyed.

I dont remember his name but  then the lraqi construction manager phoned me as l drove,  asking me to collect some equipment of his, which had come down from lraq the previous week by truck.

I dont know the details and only got myself into much more trouble by  guessing.

I was running late.. it was Thursday and my bosses at the office were expecting me along with a heap of gifts I had managed to get hold of some weeks previously.

So l was a bit annoyed by the request to detour so far out of my way.. but l carried with me cash they had already paid to lnchcape for services provided and services still to supply.

So l was strictly obliged to do their every bidding and to keep our relations on track for the promise of much future business.

There was no question.. l had no option.. and so l sped out to collect all they had waiting for me in the pickup truck l drove.

As mentioned previously in blogspot.. l drove straight to the fuelstation where they directed me.. and then loaded the articles.. and left immediately to the location they told me to go to,  near my hotel.

There was nothing illegal or suspicious and l trusted them all completely.  
I had worked with them for months before,  loading and unloading cement in the batching yard and had eaten lunch with them a couple of times.

When l arrived, the whole CID  drug squad were lying in wait for me there ,  as they had arranged with the cement dealers and lraqi contractors  back in Basrah.

They made the whole thing look like it was l that was "the big drug supplier",  who had just driven from lraq in my pickup with a load of beer .. hashish inside a spare tyre and a whole pile of cash.

Nothing could have been further from the truth,  and there l was,  the biggest gullible fool trying to please everyone.

The rest is all written in my blog.

This all happened afternoon 18th Sept 2008.. and I was booked to fly home to my family in CapeTown the  following day.

They took all the cash.. threw all my documentation out into the carpark and interrogated me alone for three days until finally in the end..
someone phoned lnchcape and the embassy.

The whole thing had been meticulously planned and it is so awfully simple to see now in hindsight.

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Ch (4a) Culpability in Perspective

12th Nov  2014

Life here  of late has  been a bit  hectic , it gets like that often.. 

Our  fledgling "awareness campaign" is well on track and many glowing testimonials continue to come in from near and far.
My most humble thanks to all those who have made this effort for me.

FCO in London and the Prime Ministers' offices have recieved first drafts and furthermore appropriate recipients are being located.

The details of the irregular court and arrest procedures for my case  and all the events which, up till now, have been presented here , have been published and are in various stages of  adaptation for presentation to different audiences.

This is a lot of work requiring many carefully worded letters and coherent and accurate mail replies.

So we are presently busy with a fairly critical and sensitive stage of this project , and l alone here do not really have the equipment or resources available to control all of this as well as we would like.

There are others looking into this presently, and their very astute observations.. professional opinions and respected influence will soon form the main impetus of this campaign.

As you may imagine.. here in prison.. it is as if I have one hand behind my back.. and l need time to evaluate information carefully before l respond to mail queries.

Local newspapers are interested in running articles on this l gather and my media officers will be liasing with them in the weeks ahead.

This is not a bad thing as l think it will occupy a very limited exposure which is better for this initial phase.

It will also plant the initial seeds of the story, from where it is likely to spread,  and then hopefully join up with the pieces we have assembled on facebook.. in my blog sites, and with the ever growing crowd of sympathetic and loving supporters.

Listen closely here please.
My case cannot ever be revisited through the courts ..as  l have explained repeatedly.
The only way through all this would be  through repeated influencial appeals for clemency.

But.. if you read carefully what l have written.. and many people dont... then..anyone will see, that all  my indiscretions that led to my deliberate entrapment...arrest... and conviction... were for reasons which l have explained.

Calculated misdemenours.
Not entirely innocent  by any means..but  most certainly not criminal.

I've admitted to being clumsy.. careless.. gung-ho.. or arrogant as rather neccessary requirements for my job in war torn Iraq ...and have  apologised for this in court ..written and verbally.. but to no avail.

If you had read and understood what l have published previously to this  article..to a select few trusted  friends and family,..then you would realise that my conviction was decided, even before my arrest.. and the court processes were a mere formality and window dressing.

The reason for this being, that four very wealthy druglord criminals were released from this same jail..upon my arrest.. for alledgedly giving me up as their big supplier.

No matter what l said to convince the CID police and the law courts  to the contrary... their plan was so well made and executed..every time l opened my mouth,  l only dug my grave deeper.

These freed criminals will not be recaptured and taken back to jail when,  what they have done to implicate me , is exposed to the world.

And so it has stayed... signed and sealed by all the media long before my court results,  or my futile and expensive appeal.. right up to this day.

Six years later.. after many of my closest family and friends had tried and failed to explain the confusion and to beg for diplomatic intervention and clemency...a couple of friends chanced apon the blatant travesties that had played out..and proceded to initiate a media campaign to highlight this prolonged travesty.

Bit by bit .. l was finally  able to tack most of it together on this tiny illegal device, from my prison cell,  all, or most of the missing information, that had for so long been so effectively concealed.

As l gained proficiency in the use of social media.. l was able to deliver pieces of the whole evil plan, gleaned from well informed and implicated criminal individuals in jail here.
These convicted criminals are all linked to the intricate family network of the powerful underworld which controls everything in the government.. the country and the mideast.
And l mean everything!

So of course.. here l am still.. these extensive cartels are not fools and can not be trifled with.
My caution here remains because of this, as there is no proof.. no evidence.. no witnesses.. no d.n.a or fingerprints.. no video or voice recordings and only me.
Destitute.. broken.. defamed.. alone..

However.. there is frequent evidence in the local press,  of the gross legal abberations taking place here.
I have a few articles on this,  to share on request.

This pattern repeats itself daily throughout the entire middle east sadly.
For my case, and this story.. their continued blatantly corrupt and arrogant practices only lend credibility to the version of events l have finally been able to expose..and present.

And this is where we find ourselves now.
I am by no means any longer alone ..as every dear friend who learns of these events,  is now able to see all the pieces together in context of todays events.. and they are able to make their own decisions on it all. And do you know what ??

They all come to the same conclusion.. and ever more support for a measure of diplomatic intervention pours in every day.

By now if  you've read this far.. l certainly hope you will be in a position to form a clearer opinion on everything l have presented here.

l remain at your disposal to reply to,  or clarify any aspects of this actual  version of events .. which you may find unclear or deficient.

End

Friday, October 3, 2014

Ch (3b) Updated Volleyball


Now I could curl up and keep quiet or I could just continue to articulate the events of these days.
 As Ive progressed from day to day and gradually collected the bits of this story that I had no concept of before this year.. and pieced them together timidly at first.. not really believing the extent of the irregularities because of my own blatant culpability and due process legal condemnation all these years.

But as time went by and the fragments coalessed.. in various letters,  and in my journals..I was able to share them with a few I trusted.
The revelations were observed and put on ice as improbable.. without coherent proof or witnesses and too little too late for any futile legal appeal.. and as such .. irrelevent in the whole scheme of things.  Nothing I have uncovered here will change this situation now so firmly set in stone.
So.. anyway.. As you may know.. I continued to share various rather disjointed versions of the same thing over and over again with more and more seemingly interested friends and family.
The responses varied enormously.. most just "hmmfed"  and went quiet.. some expressed kind words of sympathy and I could see their shoulders shrug in my minds-eye.. and most were horrified.. and responded with what seemed to me to be genuine consternation.

Well.. I put as much of what I had learnt out for examination and critisism by any and all that were interested enough to trawl through the often rather crudely garbled versions that I had managed to punch out letter by letter on this tiny toy fone.

I still have not managed to get the simple facts listed coherently enough to make easy logical reading even though by this time.. everything has started to make sense so clearly in my own head.

As Ive reiterated to every friend.. this information,  however presented, is not going to change anything with my case or my captors. 
Its not going to set me free from here or embarrass the prosecutors. 

They will deny everything through their veiled amusement.
There is no proof, and the only witnesses here in all this are convicts who will not even give me their names because of the very real and dangerous influence of the criminal structures that got me here in the first place.

So there is nothing here other than a line up of events that interface perfectly with those that were alledged to have happened on the day of my arrest.

All we know.. assume and have unearthed.. has been set out for you to look at, so that you can decide for yourself what you want to make of it.

Similar cases and incidents may be compared and used to gauge the validity of my testimony and then can be assembled as logically as possible for your own un-affected and independent assessment.

There is no pressure or urging to make your own mind up over all this. 
Nothing will change this situation and I dont intend for this to do anything like that.

Well you may then ask.. what purpose sharing all this irrellevent information may be about.?

I aknowledged most, if not all my indiscretions long ago, as I was so unceremoniously paraded in front of the world by my captors on allegations that were on the face of things..legally acceptable and almost credible.

But.. right from the beginning.. everything they did to me.. every legal procedure was flawed and blundered through with the momentum of a freight train.

Three primary offences were listed by them.
Posessesion of an old tyre containing a hidden amount of hashish.. or cannabis resin.

A tyre which was loaded into my vehicle along with other tools and equipment by two local citizens employed by the same company that contracted my company to transport cement for them to Iraq.

My company's  "valuable" clients... for whom I frequently carried cash payments for my office in Kuwait.So there was no suspicion or clandestine activity and absolutely no cause for me to have suspected any foul play.

My cooperation in facilitating with these small tasks was all part of ensuring that my company continued to get further very lucrative haulage contracts.

That in itself,  was reward enough for me.. I received no payment from them except chocolates for my wife once.

There is no further simpler explanation for my having possession of this damned tyre.

No finger prints or contact by me whatsoever were noted because there were none,  and  they knew then, what we did not.

They knew I would have no idea of the nature of this cargo that they had given me.. to hand to the police.

I drove directly to the location as directed and handed the whole pile of tools and equipment to the waiting police who only wanted the tyre and very strangely knew all about its contents.

Possession of a few cases of whiskey and vodka.
And thirdly... Possession of cash.

There were no banks or ATMs in Iraq and everything was on cash only basis. 
You would be shocked at the cost of ship berthing and bunkering..services supplied by my company in Iraq,  and paid for,  in green notes carried by me.
The cash I carried that day, was small change... petty cash..and  was stacked neatly in my briefcase and accompanied by documentation accounting for every cent,  and that it belonged to three different companies which relied on my efficient delivery on regular basis.

a) Haulage payments for my company.. b) equipment hire payment by MM engineers.. and  c) an entertainment allowance for KellR.. to be delivered by hand also all separately  and meticulously documented in their own marked envelopes.
All this cash was authorised and legitimate.
As a logistic supplier.. my company was able to source and supply alcoholic beverages from a number of international venues.

We ran a very lucrative business supplying military and contracting groups with a wide variety of products.
My collegues and I used to supply a Rumanian transport contractor..Jumbo.. with whiskey packed into water boxes.. which he used to distribute by truck into Saudi.. Kuwait and Iran.

Exactly how he did all this we did not ask.. he was discrete and a very big customer of ours.

By arrangement I was able to procure from him.. the requirement for my office collegues and my two senior bosses back in Kuwait.. and this is what I carried with me in the company owned vehicle on the day of my arrest.

This amount of liquor was authorised by my bosses.. but  I aknowledge..was an illegal cargo in Kuwait and by my own choice and risk.

None of this was sold or for sale by me. It was all paid for,  by my company.

Half of it was earmarked for the end of year function at the British Embassy. 

So yes.. I carried some incriminating items... but over time it became ever clearer to me.. that I had good reasons for being in possession of all of this.

The cash and liquor my own aknowledged indiscretion for which I am ever regretful.. but the involvement with such a  capital offence as "trafficking in hashish",   has been a very bitter pill for me to swallow all these years.

Also.. it was a bewildering and wholly dissapointing shock for all my team mates, who knew too, this was the work of very evil and powerful criminals.. and that there was not any possibility of our.. or my involvement.

So here I sit today.. still  cloaked in shame and awkward silence as no one has ever been able to approach the reality of this situation with any logical alternative explanation.

That was until I was approached fairly recently by a number of individuals on completely separate occasions as I attended the education facility here. 

Each one of these ugly drugdealing creeps approached me,  at different times.. with an additional piece of information about the events that took place on the days leading up to my arrest.

They all claimed to recognise me from previous business transactions which,  to me was mystery. 

The only place they all saw me was in the full colour newspaper photos.There was no discrete blurring or black strip over my eyes.. the photos were clear.. and everyone saw my face that day.. near and far.Everyone in my company.. all the British Military who knew and trusted me..all the prisoners in every jail right across the middle east.. saw that article and full colour photos.

They made a meal of this so big that the scandal lasted weeks.
They feasted on me and my bewildered misery as my bosses and many collegues baulked in total disbelief as the appauling truth spread itself across the world.

I had no coherent explanation and gave up trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Arabic word "Jelb" , meaning "Trafficker", was the filthy label that followed me wherever I went and still does to this day.

Ive been here six years and a year ago was the first time that elements from the extensive underworld imprisoned here near me but well separated... finally approached me as I sat out in the open watching a volleyball tournament. I cant quite recall exactly what it was that the first one said.. but it upset me so much and  ....
It was nauseating.. and he followed me as I backed away in denial of the conflicting information he had.
It was adrenaline.. PTSD.. rearing its head as  awful recollections of those terrifying events .. so long covered over... came flooding back as these henchmen smirked their ugly secrets to me. One in particular as the other nodded silently.

This total stranger.. a fellow pupil at the prison school,   claimed to have known all about me.. where I was ,,  and what I was doing,,, and with who.. and that was sickening and scary enough. 

But what was worse was the huge amount of supplemented garbage that he had fitted in alongside all my perfectly legitimate and daily routines between Baghdad and Kuwait..

He told me through brown broken and missing teeth,  that he had sat next to the controlling druglord right here in this prison in the same cell which he shared.. as the druglord discussed every detail of my movements with my lraqi supervisor back in Basra.

How the druglord and Danny discussed what l would be carrying and exactly what flight l would be taking, and even my estimated time of arrival in Kuwait. 

Then he heard him setting up the details of an exchange with his lawyer..
This information was very sketchy but can be easily conceived.

The lawyer apparently even came to the prison to discuss complex and high level arrangements for the proposed exchange of information.

What happened next... as the stink breath told me he had heard blow for blow,  as the druglord loudly gesticulated while talking on his illegal mobile phone.. was that there was a four or even five way conference call set up by them all.

Back in Basrah at my office l had working for me as Inchcape.. an english speaking lraqi supervisor.

 Qusay..or Danny as he preferred to be called.

The druglord in prison in Kuwait phoned Danny who phoned me as l drove to go to my office that morning.

Danny who was in touch with a third party in jail.. requested me to collect their tools and contraband at a location in Kuwait.

Danny received the instructions from the druglord and relayed everything to me in english,  as l drove along to do their bidding.

All this was monitored by the Cid drugsquad.. who were apparently.. the fourth party on the same conference call.

They were all speaking Arabic and l had little idea what they were discussing,  nor did l care...and responded only to Danny who was the only one who spoke English. 

l still have no idea of the extent of his involvement or participation in all of this.

As far as l was concerned... he and I were not doing anything subversive or illegal.

What comes to mind now,  was the number of odd calls l used to get at all hours of the day and night  in the weeks prior to this..when l was  at my lraq office.
Calls from different  people but most prominently... a lady.

It was an Arabic lady who was intent on doing business with Inchcape in lraq.

My understanding was that her international company,  wanted to supply local haulers to undercut the present cement transport arrangements we  at lnchcape already had in place.

She was evasive which l interpreted as cautious discretion ...and very insistent.

She asked me if she could set up a meeting with me at my office in Basra airport, and l explained to her repeatedly that l was not interested in any alternative or conflicting business arrangements.

She said clearly that she would make it all very worth my while.

I was not too keen or interested but she badgered me persistently until l agreed to meet her at 13H00 in the outside carpark on about first week of September.

I had nothing to lose, and any new business contacts in this competitive environment were always good to have on file.

I had promoted this networking activity vigorously over the years and had made an Inchcape presentation at the offices of the US Corps of engineers for the networking of all our mutual business contacts located in lraq.

Anyway.. l went to meet the lady and her colleagues in the parking lot as arranged...punctually at 1pm.. midday... and waited to no avail.
There was no call or a messenger.

Iraq contractors and even Kuwaitis are notoriously unreliable.. late or most often, held up.

After a half hour,  l left and thought nothing of the entire episode.

This woman and her whole charade was all part of the CID sting operation designed to entrap me in their lascivious plot... and in so doing... free the imprisoned cartel druglords and shift the blame all onto me.

Well it all worked flawlessly..no one knew any of these details then and the more obvious evidencial ommissions were discretely overlooked and ignored.

My lawyer was so pleased to have saved my neck from the hangmans noose,  that the more obvious aspects of my mistrial and conviction were ignored as they remain today.

To be continued....

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Ch (2) Arrest on a Crowded Street

With relief.. I saw the smiling faces of the men who were waiting at the tyre repair shop as my car came around the corner into the bustling street. 
I stopped my car and went over to meet and greet the strangers led by a rather heavyset chap in a white polo t-shirt.. who still smiling,  pressed a white package into my hand and then snatched it back... as I shook his hand in greeting.

I piled the tools off the back of my pickup into the wheelbarrow while he and a partner took hold of the old spare tyre on its rim , as four more of them came running up to me from various concealed locations close by.
In the bright full sunshine, in the middle of the public street.. they pinned me roughly to the front of my car and slapped a pair of handcuffs onto my wrists behind my back so quickly,  I barely realised what was happening.
The white sandwich pack slapped into my hand earlier was intended to be the documented exchange of money I was to learn later.. though I never learnt what it actually contained.

There were about eight or nine of these excited CID policemen who had just achieved the first part of a text book case..drug dealing arrest.

I had driven past the same area earlier that morning on my way out to my office and I had seen these same men all piled into a big white landcruiser speeding past the holiday inn hotel diagonally across the street from said tyre shop.

I had guessed they were company delegates late for a conference or a meeting at the hotel, judging by the urgency of their actions, but never gave it any thought as I drove on past and received the call from my collegue in Iraq.. to drive out to collect some urgently required tools before going to my office as I had first intended.
Here I was now,  being literally dragged and frogmarched with great gusto by these plainclothed strangers, and then stuffed into the tiniest  hot compartment in the back of the landcruiser,  as others of them climbed into my company van,  and revved  the engine and squealed the tyres in a wild display of  more bravado as the gathering crowds watched in amazement and disbelief.

The drive to the police station took less than five minutes and the other police in my little company van.. followed close behind  revving, jeering and hooting in delight  all the way into the parking area behind the main CID offices.

An enterage of excited officers and police detectives collected around the vehicles now parked in the centre of the driveway. ..all dying to see the face of the big deal drugdealer now so humiliated and effectively subdued.

A few  others were zealously unloading the boxes of whiskey from my van and all the contents of my briefcase ... minus the cash,  was all poured out onto the ground. My keys .. my calculator.. pens and wedding ring.. all the little important cards contacts and items normally packed neatly in my personal carrier case ready for my intended office presentation.

I averted my eyes.. it was sickening and I was really scared as the situation gradually became clearer.

The tyre was nowhere to be seen,  and I was made to carry two of the cases of beer which had been in black dustbin bags packed behind the drivers seat of my van.

I staggered with the heavy load as my tightly cuffed wrists and shackled ankles impeded my movements painfully. 
The burly guy who first handed me the "lunchpack" ?, came up to me and put his finger over his lips and said to me.." no money! "..." it will be better for you".. though I had not much clue of what he meant by that.
... but I never saw him again.

I struggled up the stairs and along the passages to an office of the senior drug offences detective who was apparently the mastermind behind the whole well orchestrated sting operation.

He had a yellow solid cast on his left forearm and sat at a wide desk in the centre of his large office.

Black vinyl couches and chairs lined the far walls and I was dumped into one of them and was  ignored by them as he went over the details of the events of the day with all his fine officers.

I was dressed neatly in  a new blue polo shirt and a pair of new jeans and waited anxiously as these men all prattled away excitedly in arabic.

Meanwhile the rest of the whiskey and the tyre with its contents of hashish had been brought on up the stairs as well,  and was being carefully all layed out in neat rows so that that it looked like a lot more than it really was.
Someone had cut the tyre open to remove the contents and brought the tyre up to be displayed as evidence.
I did not see them do this and will never know for sure if it was the same tyre.
Well actually by my own aknowlegement.. it was a hefty haul and it looked really bad.

I had never actually seen hashish right close up before this, and was surprised  to see it was dark like chocholate and so neatly packed in kilo blocks in printed plastic covers saying Raga... baby food.

The newspaper photographer had been called in to record the whole display,  with me in all my glory at its head..and backed by the drug enforcement police department logo painted on the wall.

The photographer was sickly sweet as he cajoled me into a most uncompromising position still cuffed and now beyond humiliation.
I knew where all this was going now,  and my fears were confirmed as I was taken down the passage and thrown into a small dark empty room next door to another room where they were repeatedly hitting and tasering a little asian chap who sounded like a puppy when you stand on its tail.
It was scary and I thought my turn would be next and I am sure this was all just  what they intended.
During this time of possibly an hour.. calls were being made near and far announcing the success of the operation to the senior police and government ministers and invitations to attend a viewing were issued.
I was fetched by a little snake eyed chap who I learnt had monitored all the mobile discussions between me and the Iraqi back in Basrah. 
I was not at all concerned by this as I knew there was nothing incriminating there and also that the location settings would substantiate my testimony.

They asked me a few basic questions to determine how I got hold of the tyre.. and who gave it to me and where exactly the transfer took place. 
I told them everything that happened.. because I was still convinced that if I just told them everything exactly as it had happened.. they would see that all my actions were within reasonable bounds, and with no intended involvement with druglords and hoped they would send me off with a reprimand.
I had no way of knowing about the extent of the manipulations that they had been busy with.

Manipulations that were now being seamlessly merged into the blindly naieve testimonony spewing so honestly from my mouth.

They knew they had to get as much information from me as possible before they informed my embassy... or before my free flowing mouth would be discretely slammed shut. by the obligatory legal council.
A lawyer three days late... that should have been my only mouthpiece.
A detailed account of the most devious sequence of misdemeanours was noted down in a statement using my terrified and unguarded testimony as its background noted  all in arabic.

The interrogation went on for hours and I offered to take them to my hotel to show them that there was nothing in my possession to connect me with any drugs or drug dealers in Kuwait.
I was so confident that all my activities and posessions would convince them that they had been mistaken in their allegations of my complicity.

There was more whiskey which I told them about before and they git there but they replied saying they were not in the least concerned by it.. they were looking for evidence of drugs alone.

I had cash for my leave holiday packed into my travel bag for my flight home the next day which they removed as evidence of illicit dealings.
  Airfares for my family who were to meet up with me in Dubai and then to go on to Turkey and Paris for my leave break.
Sixteen thousand dollars was the anticipated cost for three weeks travel and accommodation and I had saved up that amount  over many months as base payment and had that with me.

It was too late now.. I realised very soon that it had been a very big mistake to to have played such open cards and to trust these guys.I should not have brought them here to my hotel room.
I was quickly realising these guys did not have any interest in my honest intentions and lack of incriminating  evidence.

However I had intended to demonstrate my integrity to them only gave them more of what they were looking for.

I had played all my cards as honestly and openly as possible as they had turned it all around to effect maximum damage.

They trashed my room and sealed it but found nothing more.
We went back to the CID offices and  they continued with updating all the latest evidence now piled ever higher up against me.

There was still no suggestion of any legal advice as i was compelled to sign more garbled arabic statements  which steadily tightened the noose around my neck.

An acid-faced government minister stood in the doorway as I liased comfortably with the interrogators who by now, had from me all they needed.
The guy in the door was  dressed in a long robe of national dress glared evilly at me and ran his finger across his neck and skulked off.

One of the interrogators mentioned to me his son had died of a drug overdose a few years back and that he now had a serious vendetta against all drug dealers as a result.

As the dawn crept in,  I was marched back downstairs still in chains to the police cells.
Eight by eight metre rooms with a front facing clear vertical grill wall.
Cement floors and arabic hole-in-the-ground toilet with low shield wall and a small leaking tap.

The floor was covered with asians like sardines all spread over dirty foul smelling blankets.
All shapes and sizes watched me as my cuffs were removed and I was shoved into the open grill door.

Immediately a couple of smiling  Sri Lankans shifted up and beckoned to me to slot in next to them. Michael Bonny from Candy .. and another who i dont remember well.

It was the beginning of the month of Ramadan and activites at the police station were  tardy at best,  and it was Friday and weekend.
Nobody knew where I was and I was not permitted to call.
Possibly hotel staff may have  contacted my office, but I never found out.
I had been booked to fly home that night and though I am sure my bosses must have guessed by now that there was something amiss... I was not able to phone anyone and I knew I would not be going home any time soon.

I thought of my wife waiting for my call and her waiting for me at the airport as the last passengers left the empty terminal.

What of the plans for Dubai and Turkey.?  How I agonised as I lay on that concrete floor in that cell amongst all those doomed little people..
Food was very rudimentary but I was exhausted and slept fitfully.

A wealthy fat kuwaiti was tossed in with us and he yelled and objected all night banging on the bars for attention. 
Finally someone brought for him a bag full of hamburgers which he gave out liberally.
I just slept.. and then woke feeling like all hell.
My clothes were sticky with grime and I washed my underpants and socks which helped a bit. 
So many smoking and the stinking blankets stiff with grime.
Shit it was awful.
Finally I was fetched as Sunday arrived and was taken up to the top office where Consular Representatives from the British Embassy and my Boss from the Kuwait office were seated together.

No lawyer at this stage still.
It was such a relief to finally be amongst friends.. and though I might have smelt a bit strongly, they never mentioned it ..and I was too distracted and upset to notice anyway.
David Curtis the Consular representative and his interpreter, Jihan Roshdi along with my boss Mike.
None of them knew yet that I had already shot my mouth off for hours into the  hands of the guarded enemy... and had as well as,  hung myself with all the incriminating confusion and foolhardy assumptions that I had made under heavy coersion and  their sweet promises of swift release.

My support group had no idea of the extent of trouble I had caused by trying too hard to figure out for the police exactly what they already knew.

The police had made their own story out of all of this months before my arrest.
But that we will get to later.

The consul had a mobile phone which he allowed me to use to phone my dear little wife at home.
 
She and my young son were so terribly distraught and completely bewildered by this turn of events and the fact that it had taken so long for the news of this disaster to have  reached  them.

My boss had not  phoned her and my wife had also not phoned my office.. so no one had been sure what was going on.

Slowly and with great difficulty I  explained what had happened.. but the awful truth of it all was that I had been front page news and was being beamed all across the world as the big king-pin drug trafficker working for British contractors in Iraq.

It was awful as I tried to explain and the more I talked.. the more bloody stupid I looked, and the clearer it became that there was to be no quick or easy escape from all of this.

The services of a competent lawyer would have to be brought in immediately. Enter the clown.!

My dear little boss knew from this early stage that the allegations made against me were not just improbable.. but because of my transport restrictions.. were not possible.
We all flew by military charters and the claims by the CiD that I had driven from Iraq with this tyre were  clearly indicative of a case lacking evidence and full of holes.

Monday, September 8, 2014

Ch (3a) Devils triangle..


Now I could curl up and keep quiet or I could just continue to articulate the events of these days ,  as Ive progressed from day to day and gradually collected the bits of this story.

A story that I had no concept of before this year.. and then to have pieced it together timidly at first.. not really believing the extent of the irregularities that occurred on my arrest and subsequent trials.

As time went by,  and the fragments coalessed.. in various letters and in my journals..I was able to share them with a few dear family and friends that I trusted.

The revelations I came up with, were  silently observed by the few I first dared share them with... and then, by them...it seems.. put on ice as improbable.. without coherent proof or witnesses, and too little too late for any futile legal appeal and as such .. irrelevent in the whole scheme of things.
 
Nothing here will change this situation..now so firmly set in stone.
So.. anyway.. As you may have seen.. I have continued to share various rather disjointed versions of the same thing over and over again with more and more seemingly interested friends and family.

The responses have varied enormously.. some just hmmfed and went quiet.. some expressed kind words of sympathy and I could see their shoulders shrug in my mind's eye.
Many were horrified.. and responded with what seemed to me to be genuine consternation.

Well.. I put as much of what I had learnt, out for examination and critisism by any and all that were interested enough to trawl through the often rather crudely garbled versions that I had managed to tack together ,  letter by letter on this tiny toy fone from my prison cell far away from home and any help.

I still have not managed to have listed and explained all the details quite as well as I would have liked  even though by this time.. everything has started to make sense so clearly in my own head.

As Ive reiterrated to every friend.. this information,  however presented, is not going to change anything with my case or my captors.
Its not going to set me free from here or embarrass the prosecutors.

There is no proof.. I have no proof.. and the only witnesses here in all this, are convicts who will not even give me their names, because of the very real and dangerous influence of the criminal structures that  control everything in this region and this prison. 
The druglords.
The very same structures that got me here in the first place.

So there is nothing here other than a line-up of events that interface perfectly with those alledged to have occurred on the day of my arrest.
All we know.. assume and have unearthed.. has been set out for you to look at, so that you can decide for yourself what you want to make of it.
Assembled as logically as possible for your own un affected and independent assessment..
There is no pressure or urging by me for you to make up your mind  over all this.
Nothing will change this situation nor is that my intention.
Well you may then ask.. what purpose sharing all this "irrellevent" information may be about.?

I aknowledged most, if not all my indiscretions long ago, as I
was so unceremoniously paraded in front of the world by my captors on allegations that were on the face of things..legally acceptable and credible.
The newspapers printed it all so it must have been true.

Right from the beginning.. everything they did to me..just about every legal procedure was flawed and blundered through with the momentum of a freight train.

Also for good reasons as you hopefully  soon will see and I will discuss these later.

Three primary offences were listed by "them".
Posessesion of an old tyre containing a hidden amount of hashish.. or cannabis resin.
A tyre which was loaded into my vehicle along with other tools and equipment by two local citizens employed by the same company that contracted my company to transport cement for them to Iraq. 

My company's  "valuable" clients... for whom I frequently carried cash payments for my office in Kuwait.

So there was no suspicion or clandestine activity and absolutely no cause for me to have suspected any foul play.
My cooperation in facilitating with these small tasks was all part of ensuring that my company continued to get further very lucrative haulage contracts.

That in itself was reward enough for me.. I received no payment from them except chocolates for my wife once.

There is no further simpler explanation for my having possession of this damned tyre.

No finger prints or contact  by me with the items in the tyre were noted because there wasn't any,  and "they" knew then, what we did not.

"They",  knew I would have no idea of the nature of this cargo that I had been given to deliver to a specialist repair shop.

I drove directly to the location as directed and handed the whole pile of tools and equipment straight to  the waiting plain clothed police who only wanted the tyre and very strangely knew a lot more about its contents than I certainly did.

Possessesion of a few cases of whiskey and vodka. Possession of cash.
The cash was neatly packed into my briefcase and was accompanied by documentation accounting for every cent.
It belonged to three different companies which wisely to this day remain silent.

Haulage payments for my company.. equipment hire payment by Mott Macdonald.. and an entertainment allowance for KBR.. to be delivered by hand,  also all separately  and meticulously documented in their own marked envelopes.

All this cash was authorised and legitimate.
All the documentation that came with the cash in my briefcase... I last saw swirling in the wind in the carpark at the police station as "they",  ransacked my vehicle and dragged me in chains.. to their interrogation rooms.
They needed no evidence of mine.

Back at the military enclave at Basrah airport.. we worked as supply contractors.. including amongst our diverse range of commodities..a wide range of different beer and liquor.. restaurant facilities.. buffets and barbeques..efficiently supplied at any required locations as requested and manned by well dressed and competent staff along with it all.  Ice.. tables and glasses.

Whiskey and vodka sales were extremely lucrative and gained our company a very high profile amongst the contracting community and the entire coalition military group.
My collegues and I used to supply a Rumanian transport contractor with whiskey which we packed for him,  into water boxes.. which he  in turn...used to distribute by truck into Saudi.. Kuwait and Iran.

Exactly how he did all this we did not ask nor did we care to know... He was discrete and a very important customer of ours.

By arrangement with him,  I was able to procure the requirement for my office collegues and my two senior bosses back in Kuwait.

I had a safe storage room at the hotel where I stayed on my visits to Kuwait paid for and authorised by my office.
There I accumulated an amount of liquor for distribution to my bosses and many thirsty team mates in the Kuwait offices.
The boxes I carried with me in the company owned vehicle on the day of my arrest...I had loaded alone  that morning at my hotel.. to take to my offices for distribution.
This amount of liquor was authorised by my bosses.. but  I aknowledge.. was an illegal cargo in Kuwait for which I alone took all the risk.
Half of it was earmarked for the end of year function at the British Embassy.

So yes.. I carried some incriminating items... but over time it became ever clearer to me.. that I had good reasons for being in possession of  it all .
Reasons I am most certainly not ashamed of.

Even so.. I was compelled to aknowledge over time.. now that the war had long since ended and the "wild west " activities had become a rather more unacceptable practice .

There is no bank or ATM service in Iraq and everything was bought and paid for in cash.
Still my careless brazen possesion of cash and liquor should have been far more discreet and I aknowledge this now in hindsight.
Alas such wisdom in hindsight.!

But  my involvement with such a  capital offence as trafficking in hashish, has been a very bitter pill for me to swallow all these years and also a bewildering and wholly dissapointing shock for all my team mates, who knew too, this was the work of very evil and powerful criminals.. and that there was not any possibility of our  company..or my involvement...in this business of death

In the face of all these condemnations I have justified the reasons for my actions on that day and highlighted my regrets... and hope that this lends favour to your ear.