Military 2 = Survivor Guilt.. Shared Honour

Response by

Gareth Rutherford...Regarding the award of Honorus Crux for gallantry and to a glowing tribute to the thirteen young men that died one day defending our country in June 1980 as recorded by Revered Historian, Mentor and Devoted schoolmaster..

Mr Axel  Brauman.

Gareth writes... 

Thank you Sir for awakening this long dormant memory..by this great tribute to the men who were part of one of the last few concerted military operations executed in the defence of our heritage ...civilization and hometowns..

Most importantly as the echos of yesterdays anniverary of op Sceptic still reverberate on 10th June every year, the memories of our lost brothers, forever young and brave. We will never forget them. 

I have explained previously how I always was embarrassed at being the only HC recipient  that day amongst many braver men.

Everyone taking part in that intense battle did something brave in that enemy territory, and in a fair world there would have been 500 awards..

But it cannot be so.. there has to be something rare and uncommon for this award to be of any significance.

As it happened, I was doing the right thing that day.. in the right place and I was seen doing it.. by the right person.. unknown to myself...enough to be noticed and commended.

Credit to my training and trainers who were most proud of this HC..
it was as much their achievement as it was to Col Dippenaar leading us into battle and Col Tony Savides our Commanding Officer back at base. 

There were silences by my comrades that caused me great distress and reservations 
because every one of them deserved that same award. .. we know that.

After many years of discussion and detailed introspection ..
we realised that my declining the award would have been a pointless snub.. And so I undertook to use it as a lense, to focus back to our fallen,  and the brave soldiers who made up that team..our platoon... our entire battle group.

It is an accolade to be hailed and applauded.. not to me alone .. but to the calibre of the men that fought together that day all those years ago. Every grenade thrown or bullet fired by me those days came from the concerted efforts of every chef and Admin clerk back at base all the way down the line. 

So today.. I no longer scuttle around in pensive glory.. or undeserving shame...
I will wear that award proudly in front of them all, now knowing that I am their representative..
and my voice and pen will continue to hail their great efforts so proudly.

For many years the "survivor guilt" I carried cast doubts on my pride and this great honour.

 As I was honoured, the bravest lay dead as their families grieved. It was so hard. 

Time was generous to me and after many close examinations of the events by the wisest of our historians, I became ever more grateful to find that every one of my fellow veterans present there in that battle, applauded my single actions that day, running the gauntlet alone and tending the wounded and dying under fire.. Actions that were well deserving of this great acknowledgement..

To any one that ever disapproved...I will gladly hand it over to him.

Thank you my brothers for your vital affirmations.. Of this accolade most humbly appreciated and worn with such great honour.

But yes.. most proudly still..
An accolade for 61⚡⚡, and never to forget those who died and their long-suffering families.

God bless them all. 

Dont Read This...too scary!

We went outside into the yard covered by steel grids.
There was no sun.. the sky was an orange glow.. and i shivered.
But i went on out following the few others who appreciated the the opportunity to take a breath of fresh air. Air that has not been rebreathed or tainted so by these tightly closed cell blocks.
As i walked out over the dry powder earth.. the sky opened.
This hot dry desert so long so harsh.
The rain poured down in big heavy drops. Bursting cool on my scalp.. was  so wow !!
I walked on out into the long bleak high walled yard as the damp smell of wet dust rose around me.
I tore off my jacket and wrinkled old tee shirt and stood with my arms out sideways as the rain gushed over the startled bare skin of my shoulders and back.
My face to the sky.. and eyes closed .. drops plopping on my eyelids and face..
I prayed a thank you.. and the others must have thought me a bit crazy.. but i ignored that.. as they came out from the sheltered edges and copied me in my ritual of chilly gratitide and acceptance of the great gift.
I think it was for me..
Just to say.. stay..

Ch (3) What Happened.. Summary

I started working at Inchcape Shipping Services trading as KMMC in Kuwait in September  2003 as an operations maintenance  manager on Military Logistics.

Travel cross border after 2005 became very highly restricted under military escort only.
And then after 2006 only by air.

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

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 harbour  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.

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..  military and civilian....and everyone knew me in Iraq.

I arrived on a military  hercules Aircraft from Iraq at the Kuwait military airport  on the midnight flight of 17th September 2008.

I went through all the high security checks before leaving  together with staff from the british  embassy.
I carried only cash and documents.

After l had arrived back at my hotel...l drove the company vehicle  to my office where I was to go over all the paperwork and finances for the next few weeks.

En route to my office.. the lraqi contractors phoned me from their location on site in Basrah airport ,  to request me to collect their tools.

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 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  in my pickup to collect all the goods they had waiting for me to deliver.

l drove straight to the fuelstation location they described... and then loaded the articles..wheelbarrow.. toolbox.. spades and a spare tyre.
I left immediately to the location they directed me 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.

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 tyre.
The tyre had been filled with packets of hashish and neatly closed using some machine i guess. Nearly 50 kg i was told.
I guessed far too much..

I was arrested that afternoon  of 18th Sept 2008.
My flight home had been booked for  the  following day.
A flight i still long for.

The Cid police took all the cash in my possession.. and threw all my documentation out into the carpark and interrogated me alone for days until finally in the end a police investigator phoned the embassy.

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

There were four other tyres with those druglords that i saw..
I was arrested for doing my job a little too well...
Slammed into jail where ive been ever since for this.
For doing this.
The druglords and their cohorts all free and trading out there, have not stopped laughing at all this...  ever since.