Robinson's Jam Man
Chapter 8
Within days of both my 19th birthday and being fired upon for the first time I was myself hospitalised.
It seems strange to me now that I didn't mark off on my calendar the events of this day as being any different. Since arriving I had been crossing off the days on the calendar that the little old lady had given me when I arrived. When I got back from Musgrave Park Hospital, I just crossed of the days missing and carried on as I had previously been doing.
It has been, and will remain, one of the things that annoy me the most; the fact that I can't remember the date that the incident which led to my hospitalisation actually occurred on. All I've managed to do is narrow it down to the days between the 8th of April (the first day it could conceivably have happened) and the 28th of April 1987 (the date on the first injury compensation letter I received).
I can, when I close my eyes, see the street. I see the slope in the road heading downhill. I see where the large crowd stood. I see where the armoured Land Rovers were parked and I remember the officer in charge telling the replacement brick commander to force our way through the crowd to reach them.
What was the date? Does it matter? It annoys me. Why?
As far as I can recall we were part of a mobile patrol overseeing another C Company platoon's patrol through the BallyMurphy. We had dismounted from our vehicles near the Spring Hill Avenue and Westrock Drive intersection and had walked back up Spring Hill Ave to create a VCP (vehicle check point) near the intersection of Spring Hill Avenue and Springfield Road. This was part of that day's operation in and around the BallyMurphy, an estate which we had nicknamed the 'Bull Ring' due to its circular nature and the violence normally encountered within it.
Soon a large crowd had spilled out from the BallyMurphy and stood between ourselves and our vehicles. Thus far they had contented themselves with throwing only verbal abuse, something which was water off a duck's back to us all. The patrol within the 'Bull Ring' itself had left the centre of the estate. The officer from this patrol was by this time up near our VCP. We were informed that they would cover us from the outer perimeter as we re-embarked into our vehicles.
Thus we were told to 'force' our way through the crowd. This, at the time, I thought was madness. Surely it would be better to have the teams guarding the vehicles mount up and drive up to us. It wasn't my place to suggest this however and furthermore I had no idea what the changing tactical situation was at that time.
So, resigned to the fact, we headed off on a walk of no more than 150 - 200 meters.
Within seconds I'd reached the edge of the crowd and started walking through. They parted and allowed me to progress without hindrance. As I was now the lead element out of the brick, I could only keep an eye out going forward until I reached the vehicles where I could turn around and cover the rest behind me.
I suddenly felt a light tap on my shoulder. Thinking this was a member of my brick I quickly glanced around only to see a large civilian confronting me.
"You pushed my wife", he drawled.
The sudden thought passed through my mind that being the smallest guy in the brick, this guy fancied his chances at intimidating me. I hate bullies and was just about to think of a suitably pithy reply when he made a swinging motion towards my head.
I had no time to react.
I felt a sudden 'buzz' in my face and thought he'd missed me.
I was livid. How fucking dare he try and hit me. I turned around to face him full on. The crowd backed away and it looked for all intents and purposes like a school yard brawl. I looked him up and down and saw a hammer in his hand. I was insane with rage at the thought he'd tried to hit me in the head with a hammer. I stared him straight in the eyes and saw the colour drain out of him like the old '80's advert for Robinson's Jam, the one where they have a Golly Wog and it goes grey as the voice over says, "some jams have artificial colours and flavors...".
A resolve came over me. He was dead meat. Now the choice... should I hit him with my baton, shoot him with the FRG, or just put a bullet in him with my SLR. 'Fuck it', I thought, 'one with the SLR it is', and I started to raise my rifle.
The crowd behind him looked at me in disbelief; his eyes were wide with shock. My rifle was pointing about at his midriff and I was thinking 'you just fucked with the wrong guy' when a member of my brick reached me. I think it was Terry but I can't be sure. He put himself between myself and my target, looked at me and said, "Do you feel okay?" He also had a strange look on his face.
"Yeah fine", I said and I noticed that my target was getting pulled away into the crowd by another of its number, his wide eyes still locked on mine.
"Next time, pal", I said noticing my voice sounded strange to my ears.
By now another member of the brick had reached me. He put a hand on my back and asked, "Are you okay, can you walk?"
"Look, I'm fine", I answered. "That punk just threw a cheap shot at me". Damn, my voice was strange, and I could feel liquid running down the back of my throat, making it hard to breath and talk.
"Right", said one of the guys. "If you can make it, keep going. We are right behind you now".
"Sure", I said. My eyes were throbbing and I really wanted, for the first time, one of the crowd to do something so I could lash out.
As I turned and started walking again, the crowd took a look at me and backed away. They started disappearing back into the 'Bull Ring'. By the time I reached the armoured Land Rovers I was pissed off with the world in general. My nose felt blocked and the trickle of 'liquid' down my throat was annoying me. I opened the rear door of our Land Rover and turned around to cover the team in.
The acting brick commander ran over to me, a real look of concern on his face. I noticed that all the guys had made it through and really wanted to unblock my nose so I reached for it.. and couldn't 'find' it. 'What the...'.
"Metty, unload your rifle and sit down for fuck's sake", said one of the guys.
I made my rifle 'safe' and did as I was told.
"I can't feel my face", I said to no one in particular!
"You're alright", said the brick commander. "Did you want me to straighten your nose up?" Behind him the other guys were looking at me with a mixture of fascination and shock on their faces.
"Oh shit, he got me then?", I said. "Yeah knock yourself out", I continued.
He then reached forward to an area underneath my right eye and started to straighten my nose. All I could feel was a grinding sensation. The noise it made was the worst part. A few of the guys looked away.
"There", he said. "That looks better. Can you continue on?"
"Look, I feel fine" I said. The trickle in my throat stopped and my voice sounded more normal.
"Right, mount up", he said, "Metty, stay inside. You", he continued, pointing at another guy, "take Metty's place as top cover". He walked off talking into his radio.
"Fuck, fuck, fucking hell", I said.
We mounted up and headed off towards RUC NewBarnsley, about a 2 minute ride away. Once there I got out of the Land Rover. My head, eyes and neck were now feeling like they were on fire. Why hadn't I felt actually getting hit?
Terry, I think, came up to me,
"How do you feel", he asked?
"Okay I guess", I lied. "Wish you'd all stop asking me how I feel, though".
The brick commander came over to me. "Metty, take a few minutes to clean yourself up in the toilets over there", he said gesturing to a block of porta cabins behind me. "We're going to head straight back to base and we'll come and find you when we're ready to go".
I nodded my acknowledgement which sent my head spinning and I wondered off looking for the toilets. After a bit of looking around I found the entrance to these through the brick block work blast barriers. It was dark inside and I decided to leave the lights off.
By now my whole face felt numb and I noticed my hands had pins and needles. Stupid, stupid mistake, I thought to myself. I then felt really worried that they were going to send me 'away' and I had to fight back tears at the thought of letting the guys down.
Despair flooded over me. There was no way I was leaving; not a chance in hell I was going to let 'my' team down. I shuffled over to a sink with a mirror above it. Not knowing what to expect I looked into glass. 'Not too bad', I thought. 'Nose a little over to one side'. I touched it. Nothing.. no feeling at all!
'Well, that can't be a bad thing', I thought. My left cheekbone looked a little puffy. I prodded it and the bone 'moved'! 'Better stop doing that', I
told myself.
I then felt sick and threw up. Looking into the sink I saw it was full of clotted blood. That's what the trickle of liquid I felt must have been, I
thought.
I splashed water on to my face and looked again. My face looked a bit bloated and my nose was not as 'straight' as it used to be but there were no cuts and very little bruising. 'I'll be alright', I told myself. 'Say you're fine and you'll be back out tomorrow'.
Panic swept over me again at the thought of getting sent 'away'. I had no idea where I'd be sent 'away' to, just that it would be 'away' from the guys. The washroom lurched and I was sick again.
'Come on', I told myself. 'Get your shit together. Don't want anyone to see you like this, do you?'
I concentrated on slowing my breathing and splashed more water on my face. When I was satisfied I wasn't going to throw up anymore I walked back outside. The daylight hurt my eyes and I felt my legs wobble again. I stood still and shielded my eyes from the light.
"Over here, Metty", I heard a voice say.
I looked over and saw one of the guys holding my rifle out to me. A group was standing beside a couple of 'Pigs'.
"Cheers", I forced myself to say, and concentrating hard I walked over to them.
"Shit, that was a fucking hell of a hit you took", someone said. "Will get a tidy bit of compensation for that, you will".
"Suppose", I said.
I sat down and closed my eyes, resting the back of my head on the cold metal.
After awhile the brick commander came back from wherever he'd been. "Right, we're heading off soon", he said. "Metty, as soon as we get back, stow your gear and head down to the Operations area. 'Tiny' Kay is on his way over to take some pictures of you and get some paperwork filled in".
"Alright", I croaked. I knew Tiny well. He was a bear of a man and was my first NCO when I reached MILAN Platoon. 'He'll look after me' I thought.
The rest of the day was a bit of a blur.
I remember Tiny taking photographs of me. I think someone else took a statement and finally a medic had a look at me.
"You'll need to get your nose seen to in hospital", he finally announced. "Anything else hurts?"
"No", I bluffed in reply.
"Will possibly be a few days away before we can get you in", he continued. "Are you alright to go back out?"
"Yep, good to go", I said.
"Good lad. Someone will let you know as soon as you can be seen".
I drifted back to my room. One of the guys was sitting on a chair cleaning his kit.
"Can you wake me up before we're due to go back out?", I asked. I had no idea what time it was or when we were going out on patrol next.
"Sure thing. Looks like you could do with some Z's", he said.
I lay on my bed and it was like someone switched off the lights.
* * * *
I managed to go back out on patrol a few times before my hospital appointment came through. Each time out took a huge effort and I'd be physically and mentally exhausted by the time we'd get back to base. On arrival back I'd often just flop on my bed and fall asleep. I felt 'sharp' enough out on patrol but each breath was a struggle and I'd have to concentrate hard to do the basics, it was almost like I was hung over.
"Right, Metcalfe. Put your civvies on. You're off to see some pretty nurses in the hospital", the platoon Sergeant said a few days after I was injured. "5 minutes downstairs, don't keep them waiting". He left the room.
It felt strange and unnatural putting on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt for the first time in ages. "See you guys soon", I told the rest of the brick as soon as I had changed and I headed out the door.
The QRF team loaded me up in the back of one of the Land Rovers. I was handed an envelope and a Browning pistol.
"That's for the doctor", said the QRF commander, pointing at the envelope. "That's if we get shot at", he added pointing at the pistol and winking.
"I think I've got it", I said.
After about a 10 - 15 minute ride we arrived at the Royal Victoria Hospital. I had no real idea who I was seeing or where I was going. It all just seemed 'taken care' of. I was escorted through a rear door at the back of the hospital and into a small examination room. I handed back my weapon and stood waiting.
A nurse came in. "Put this on please", she said, handing me a surgical gown. "Put your clothes over there", she went on as she pointed at a chair, "and lay down on that", she added indicating a bed. "The doctor will be in to see you soon".
I did as I was told but chose to sit on the bed while I waited.
A doctor burst through the door. "Have you got your notes", he asked?
I handed over the envelope. A couple of nurses came through. I looked past them, through the frosted windows and could still see the QRF team 'guarding' me.
"Look at me", said the doctor.
I looked at him and he prodded and poked my face.
"Are you allergic to anything", he finally asked.
"No", I said.
"Right, lay down. Nurse, give him a sedative. We'll take you up to surgery straight away". With that he walked off.
"Just relax", said one of the nurses. "We'll have you in and out in no time".
"Can you tell the guys outside to wait for me?", I asked.
By now I was laying down and I had a drip in my arm. Within minutes I was feeling drowsy. I vaguely remember being pushed down a corridor and into an operating theatre. A face appeared. "Count back from 10". I think I reached '9' before the lights went out again.
* * * * *
I woke up in a bed surrounded by curtains. It felt as if I was floating on top of the bed. 'Must be the happy drugs', I told myself. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and on to the ground. I was still in the hospital gown, I noticed. Opening the curtains I popped my head out to look around.
A roomful of worried looking men in beds looked back at me. I must still be in the RVH after my operation. The looks on the men's faces made me smile. 'They want me here as much as I want to be here', I thought.
As soon as I withdrew my head back behind the curtains I heard a few of them press their buzzers. I found my clothes in the bedside locker and started to put them on.
Another nurse came through the curtain. "You're up then", she said.
"Looks like it", I smiled back.
She went back through the curtains and came back carrying a towel and a bowl of water. "Just in case you want to have a wash. Ring the bell when you're ready to go", and with that she left.
I instinctively did as I was told and washed my hands and face. I dressed and put my DB's (desert boots, a type of Suede shoe popular in the 1980's) on. I opened the curtains around my bed and pressed the buzzer. The men in the room busied themselves looking anywhere but towards me.
I couldn't get any thoughts to stay in my head. I wondered what day and time it was. I lent against the bed not wanting to lay down again in fear of falling asleep. Time passed by. I could see out through the hospital windows which confirmed I was still in the RVH and on the second or third floor. The room had eight beds in it, all occupied.
Yet another nurse came through. "You all ready to go?", she asked.
"Ready and waiting", I said, no idea where I was ready to go to but wanting out of 'here'.
As I left the room a few of the men said "God bless you son". I waved my 'thanks' and soon found myself in the back of an ambulance.
In the ambulance I was again handed a Browning. I have no idea if the pistol even had a magazine in it. The anesthetic I'd been given was still making it hard to concentrate. I was told by a voice to "lie down". I then remember a trip full of car noises and shadows. Sometime later we went through the check point at Musgrave Park Hospital and when my head finally cleared I found I was in a day room surrounded by 1970's army furniture.
I looked at the only other person in the room. He looked through me. What a mess his head was. It looked like a 'tennis ball scar' was snaked around it. I felt better that at least that wasn't me.
After an age he looked around. "Have you got a juicy fruit?", he asked and smiled.
Squaddies; 'thank feck for our sense of humour', I thought as I realized he was quoting a line from 'One Flew over the Cuckoos Nest'. A little later he was wheeled out and I didn't see him again.
A weary looking doctor at last came through. "Right then, let's see what's what", he said. A light was shone in my eyes. "Are you feeling groggy?", he asked.
"Not so bad now", I gave in reply, not wanting to say 'yes' or 'no' just in case.
"Here, take these", he said, handing me some tablets. "And use this to keep your nostrils moist", he added, handing me some saline solution before he walked off looking dog tired.
It was then I saw the little old lady from the airfield again. I now knew of her experiences. As she asked me questions on how I was etc, all I could do was look at her as I gave "yes" and "no" answers. She was tiny. She showed genuine concern and looked sad as we talked.
What horrors had she seen? How could she still show compassion?
She left and I looked at my hands. She'd given me an Ulster button pin and an Ulster address book. I never saw her again.
Later still, a man wearing civvies popped in. "Anyone for a taxi?", he asked.
"If that's a lift back to North Howard Street, I'm your man", I ventured hopefully. No one told me what was going on so I guessed I'd make my own way back to base.
"I want to do some shopping first if you're in no rush", he added. "A trip to the city centre, I think".
"Whatever you say, you're the boss", I replied.
"Right you are then". He led me outside and when we reached his car he passed me a pistol and magazine. I checked and loaded it and put it down the front of my pants. I looked at him and smiled. He was dressed almost the same as me, down to his footwear.
"Do you think we stand out as soldiers?" I joked.
"Too right", he added. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine". We got in his car and drove up to the gatehouse. He flashed his ID at the man on guard. "Taking this guy back to NHSM", he said to the guard. I handed over my ID card. The man on duty wrote down our details and the car registration. Handing back my ID card, the gate lifted and we drove away.
"What day is it?", I asked.
"Don't ask me, I only work here", the driver replied.
I looked out the window. It looked like it had been raining. It hadn't rained at all since I'd been in Belfast.
The car pulled into a car park near the Belfast Town Hall. I followed the driver as he got out and walked towards the building. He walked inside and found another man. They exchanged words and then we went back outside.
"Just getting them to keep an eye on things", he said.
We walked to the city centre gates. The main precinct was blocked off to traffic and you had to go through a check point. I noticed that the RUC manning this checkpoint were searching everyone passing through. I then remembered I had a pistol down my pants. My companion just walked straight up to the gates. The RUC took one look at the both of us, checked our ID's and waved us through.
"Right. Just want to buy a record. Do you want anything?", I was asked.
"No, I'm fine thanks".
We then went into a record shop. Looking around it didn't 'feel' right. I just wanted to be back with the guys. I trailed behind my guide noticing that wherever we went the shoppers went the other way.
After paying for his purchase we went straight back to the car. Without getting told I dropped down on my hands and knees and started looking underneath the car, checking for car bombs or anything else out of the ordinary.
I caught a look of the other guys face underneath the car doing the same.
"Anything your side?", I asked.
"Looks clean", he answered.
Heart in my mouth, he opened the door and started the car up. I jumped in and without further ado he drove me 'home' and back to my mates.
Chapter 8
Within days of both my 19th birthday and being fired upon for the first time I was myself hospitalised.
It seems strange to me now that I didn't mark off on my calendar the events of this day as being any different. Since arriving I had been crossing off the days on the calendar that the little old lady had given me when I arrived. When I got back from Musgrave Park Hospital, I just crossed of the days missing and carried on as I had previously been doing.
It has been, and will remain, one of the things that annoy me the most; the fact that I can't remember the date that the incident which led to my hospitalisation actually occurred on. All I've managed to do is narrow it down to the days between the 8th of April (the first day it could conceivably have happened) and the 28th of April 1987 (the date on the first injury compensation letter I received).
I can, when I close my eyes, see the street. I see the slope in the road heading downhill. I see where the large crowd stood. I see where the armoured Land Rovers were parked and I remember the officer in charge telling the replacement brick commander to force our way through the crowd to reach them.
What was the date? Does it matter? It annoys me. Why?
As far as I can recall we were part of a mobile patrol overseeing another C Company platoon's patrol through the BallyMurphy. We had dismounted from our vehicles near the Spring Hill Avenue and Westrock Drive intersection and had walked back up Spring Hill Ave to create a VCP (vehicle check point) near the intersection of Spring Hill Avenue and Springfield Road. This was part of that day's operation in and around the BallyMurphy, an estate which we had nicknamed the 'Bull Ring' due to its circular nature and the violence normally encountered within it.
Soon a large crowd had spilled out from the BallyMurphy and stood between ourselves and our vehicles. Thus far they had contented themselves with throwing only verbal abuse, something which was water off a duck's back to us all. The patrol within the 'Bull Ring' itself had left the centre of the estate. The officer from this patrol was by this time up near our VCP. We were informed that they would cover us from the outer perimeter as we re-embarked into our vehicles.
Thus we were told to 'force' our way through the crowd. This, at the time, I thought was madness. Surely it would be better to have the teams guarding the vehicles mount up and drive up to us. It wasn't my place to suggest this however and furthermore I had no idea what the changing tactical situation was at that time.
So, resigned to the fact, we headed off on a walk of no more than 150 - 200 meters.
Within seconds I'd reached the edge of the crowd and started walking through. They parted and allowed me to progress without hindrance. As I was now the lead element out of the brick, I could only keep an eye out going forward until I reached the vehicles where I could turn around and cover the rest behind me.
I suddenly felt a light tap on my shoulder. Thinking this was a member of my brick I quickly glanced around only to see a large civilian confronting me.
"You pushed my wife", he drawled.
The sudden thought passed through my mind that being the smallest guy in the brick, this guy fancied his chances at intimidating me. I hate bullies and was just about to think of a suitably pithy reply when he made a swinging motion towards my head.
I had no time to react.
I felt a sudden 'buzz' in my face and thought he'd missed me.
I was livid. How fucking dare he try and hit me. I turned around to face him full on. The crowd backed away and it looked for all intents and purposes like a school yard brawl. I looked him up and down and saw a hammer in his hand. I was insane with rage at the thought he'd tried to hit me in the head with a hammer. I stared him straight in the eyes and saw the colour drain out of him like the old '80's advert for Robinson's Jam, the one where they have a Golly Wog and it goes grey as the voice over says, "some jams have artificial colours and flavors...".
A resolve came over me. He was dead meat. Now the choice... should I hit him with my baton, shoot him with the FRG, or just put a bullet in him with my SLR. 'Fuck it', I thought, 'one with the SLR it is', and I started to raise my rifle.
The crowd behind him looked at me in disbelief; his eyes were wide with shock. My rifle was pointing about at his midriff and I was thinking 'you just fucked with the wrong guy' when a member of my brick reached me. I think it was Terry but I can't be sure. He put himself between myself and my target, looked at me and said, "Do you feel okay?" He also had a strange look on his face.
"Yeah fine", I said and I noticed that my target was getting pulled away into the crowd by another of its number, his wide eyes still locked on mine.
"Next time, pal", I said noticing my voice sounded strange to my ears.
By now another member of the brick had reached me. He put a hand on my back and asked, "Are you okay, can you walk?"
"Look, I'm fine", I answered. "That punk just threw a cheap shot at me". Damn, my voice was strange, and I could feel liquid running down the back of my throat, making it hard to breath and talk.
"Right", said one of the guys. "If you can make it, keep going. We are right behind you now".
"Sure", I said. My eyes were throbbing and I really wanted, for the first time, one of the crowd to do something so I could lash out.
As I turned and started walking again, the crowd took a look at me and backed away. They started disappearing back into the 'Bull Ring'. By the time I reached the armoured Land Rovers I was pissed off with the world in general. My nose felt blocked and the trickle of 'liquid' down my throat was annoying me. I opened the rear door of our Land Rover and turned around to cover the team in.
The acting brick commander ran over to me, a real look of concern on his face. I noticed that all the guys had made it through and really wanted to unblock my nose so I reached for it.. and couldn't 'find' it. 'What the...'.
"Metty, unload your rifle and sit down for fuck's sake", said one of the guys.
I made my rifle 'safe' and did as I was told.
"I can't feel my face", I said to no one in particular!
"You're alright", said the brick commander. "Did you want me to straighten your nose up?" Behind him the other guys were looking at me with a mixture of fascination and shock on their faces.
"Oh shit, he got me then?", I said. "Yeah knock yourself out", I continued.
He then reached forward to an area underneath my right eye and started to straighten my nose. All I could feel was a grinding sensation. The noise it made was the worst part. A few of the guys looked away.
"There", he said. "That looks better. Can you continue on?"
"Look, I feel fine" I said. The trickle in my throat stopped and my voice sounded more normal.
"Right, mount up", he said, "Metty, stay inside. You", he continued, pointing at another guy, "take Metty's place as top cover". He walked off talking into his radio.
"Fuck, fuck, fucking hell", I said.
We mounted up and headed off towards RUC NewBarnsley, about a 2 minute ride away. Once there I got out of the Land Rover. My head, eyes and neck were now feeling like they were on fire. Why hadn't I felt actually getting hit?
Terry, I think, came up to me,
"How do you feel", he asked?
"Okay I guess", I lied. "Wish you'd all stop asking me how I feel, though".
The brick commander came over to me. "Metty, take a few minutes to clean yourself up in the toilets over there", he said gesturing to a block of porta cabins behind me. "We're going to head straight back to base and we'll come and find you when we're ready to go".
I nodded my acknowledgement which sent my head spinning and I wondered off looking for the toilets. After a bit of looking around I found the entrance to these through the brick block work blast barriers. It was dark inside and I decided to leave the lights off.
By now my whole face felt numb and I noticed my hands had pins and needles. Stupid, stupid mistake, I thought to myself. I then felt really worried that they were going to send me 'away' and I had to fight back tears at the thought of letting the guys down.
Despair flooded over me. There was no way I was leaving; not a chance in hell I was going to let 'my' team down. I shuffled over to a sink with a mirror above it. Not knowing what to expect I looked into glass. 'Not too bad', I thought. 'Nose a little over to one side'. I touched it. Nothing.. no feeling at all!
'Well, that can't be a bad thing', I thought. My left cheekbone looked a little puffy. I prodded it and the bone 'moved'! 'Better stop doing that', I
told myself.
I then felt sick and threw up. Looking into the sink I saw it was full of clotted blood. That's what the trickle of liquid I felt must have been, I
thought.
I splashed water on to my face and looked again. My face looked a bit bloated and my nose was not as 'straight' as it used to be but there were no cuts and very little bruising. 'I'll be alright', I told myself. 'Say you're fine and you'll be back out tomorrow'.
Panic swept over me again at the thought of getting sent 'away'. I had no idea where I'd be sent 'away' to, just that it would be 'away' from the guys. The washroom lurched and I was sick again.
'Come on', I told myself. 'Get your shit together. Don't want anyone to see you like this, do you?'
I concentrated on slowing my breathing and splashed more water on my face. When I was satisfied I wasn't going to throw up anymore I walked back outside. The daylight hurt my eyes and I felt my legs wobble again. I stood still and shielded my eyes from the light.
"Over here, Metty", I heard a voice say.
I looked over and saw one of the guys holding my rifle out to me. A group was standing beside a couple of 'Pigs'.
"Cheers", I forced myself to say, and concentrating hard I walked over to them.
"Shit, that was a fucking hell of a hit you took", someone said. "Will get a tidy bit of compensation for that, you will".
"Suppose", I said.
I sat down and closed my eyes, resting the back of my head on the cold metal.
After awhile the brick commander came back from wherever he'd been. "Right, we're heading off soon", he said. "Metty, as soon as we get back, stow your gear and head down to the Operations area. 'Tiny' Kay is on his way over to take some pictures of you and get some paperwork filled in".
"Alright", I croaked. I knew Tiny well. He was a bear of a man and was my first NCO when I reached MILAN Platoon. 'He'll look after me' I thought.
The rest of the day was a bit of a blur.
I remember Tiny taking photographs of me. I think someone else took a statement and finally a medic had a look at me.
"You'll need to get your nose seen to in hospital", he finally announced. "Anything else hurts?"
"No", I bluffed in reply.
"Will possibly be a few days away before we can get you in", he continued. "Are you alright to go back out?"
"Yep, good to go", I said.
"Good lad. Someone will let you know as soon as you can be seen".
I drifted back to my room. One of the guys was sitting on a chair cleaning his kit.
"Can you wake me up before we're due to go back out?", I asked. I had no idea what time it was or when we were going out on patrol next.
"Sure thing. Looks like you could do with some Z's", he said.
I lay on my bed and it was like someone switched off the lights.
* * * *
I managed to go back out on patrol a few times before my hospital appointment came through. Each time out took a huge effort and I'd be physically and mentally exhausted by the time we'd get back to base. On arrival back I'd often just flop on my bed and fall asleep. I felt 'sharp' enough out on patrol but each breath was a struggle and I'd have to concentrate hard to do the basics, it was almost like I was hung over.
"Right, Metcalfe. Put your civvies on. You're off to see some pretty nurses in the hospital", the platoon Sergeant said a few days after I was injured. "5 minutes downstairs, don't keep them waiting". He left the room.
It felt strange and unnatural putting on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt for the first time in ages. "See you guys soon", I told the rest of the brick as soon as I had changed and I headed out the door.
The QRF team loaded me up in the back of one of the Land Rovers. I was handed an envelope and a Browning pistol.
"That's for the doctor", said the QRF commander, pointing at the envelope. "That's if we get shot at", he added pointing at the pistol and winking.
"I think I've got it", I said.
After about a 10 - 15 minute ride we arrived at the Royal Victoria Hospital. I had no real idea who I was seeing or where I was going. It all just seemed 'taken care' of. I was escorted through a rear door at the back of the hospital and into a small examination room. I handed back my weapon and stood waiting.
A nurse came in. "Put this on please", she said, handing me a surgical gown. "Put your clothes over there", she went on as she pointed at a chair, "and lay down on that", she added indicating a bed. "The doctor will be in to see you soon".
I did as I was told but chose to sit on the bed while I waited.
A doctor burst through the door. "Have you got your notes", he asked?
I handed over the envelope. A couple of nurses came through. I looked past them, through the frosted windows and could still see the QRF team 'guarding' me.
"Look at me", said the doctor.
I looked at him and he prodded and poked my face.
"Are you allergic to anything", he finally asked.
"No", I said.
"Right, lay down. Nurse, give him a sedative. We'll take you up to surgery straight away". With that he walked off.
"Just relax", said one of the nurses. "We'll have you in and out in no time".
"Can you tell the guys outside to wait for me?", I asked.
By now I was laying down and I had a drip in my arm. Within minutes I was feeling drowsy. I vaguely remember being pushed down a corridor and into an operating theatre. A face appeared. "Count back from 10". I think I reached '9' before the lights went out again.
* * * * *
I woke up in a bed surrounded by curtains. It felt as if I was floating on top of the bed. 'Must be the happy drugs', I told myself. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and on to the ground. I was still in the hospital gown, I noticed. Opening the curtains I popped my head out to look around.
A roomful of worried looking men in beds looked back at me. I must still be in the RVH after my operation. The looks on the men's faces made me smile. 'They want me here as much as I want to be here', I thought.
As soon as I withdrew my head back behind the curtains I heard a few of them press their buzzers. I found my clothes in the bedside locker and started to put them on.
Another nurse came through the curtain. "You're up then", she said.
"Looks like it", I smiled back.
She went back through the curtains and came back carrying a towel and a bowl of water. "Just in case you want to have a wash. Ring the bell when you're ready to go", and with that she left.
I instinctively did as I was told and washed my hands and face. I dressed and put my DB's (desert boots, a type of Suede shoe popular in the 1980's) on. I opened the curtains around my bed and pressed the buzzer. The men in the room busied themselves looking anywhere but towards me.
I couldn't get any thoughts to stay in my head. I wondered what day and time it was. I lent against the bed not wanting to lay down again in fear of falling asleep. Time passed by. I could see out through the hospital windows which confirmed I was still in the RVH and on the second or third floor. The room had eight beds in it, all occupied.
Yet another nurse came through. "You all ready to go?", she asked.
"Ready and waiting", I said, no idea where I was ready to go to but wanting out of 'here'.
As I left the room a few of the men said "God bless you son". I waved my 'thanks' and soon found myself in the back of an ambulance.
In the ambulance I was again handed a Browning. I have no idea if the pistol even had a magazine in it. The anesthetic I'd been given was still making it hard to concentrate. I was told by a voice to "lie down". I then remember a trip full of car noises and shadows. Sometime later we went through the check point at Musgrave Park Hospital and when my head finally cleared I found I was in a day room surrounded by 1970's army furniture.
I looked at the only other person in the room. He looked through me. What a mess his head was. It looked like a 'tennis ball scar' was snaked around it. I felt better that at least that wasn't me.
After an age he looked around. "Have you got a juicy fruit?", he asked and smiled.
Squaddies; 'thank feck for our sense of humour', I thought as I realized he was quoting a line from 'One Flew over the Cuckoos Nest'. A little later he was wheeled out and I didn't see him again.
A weary looking doctor at last came through. "Right then, let's see what's what", he said. A light was shone in my eyes. "Are you feeling groggy?", he asked.
"Not so bad now", I gave in reply, not wanting to say 'yes' or 'no' just in case.
"Here, take these", he said, handing me some tablets. "And use this to keep your nostrils moist", he added, handing me some saline solution before he walked off looking dog tired.
It was then I saw the little old lady from the airfield again. I now knew of her experiences. As she asked me questions on how I was etc, all I could do was look at her as I gave "yes" and "no" answers. She was tiny. She showed genuine concern and looked sad as we talked.
What horrors had she seen? How could she still show compassion?
She left and I looked at my hands. She'd given me an Ulster button pin and an Ulster address book. I never saw her again.
Later still, a man wearing civvies popped in. "Anyone for a taxi?", he asked.
"If that's a lift back to North Howard Street, I'm your man", I ventured hopefully. No one told me what was going on so I guessed I'd make my own way back to base.
"I want to do some shopping first if you're in no rush", he added. "A trip to the city centre, I think".
"Whatever you say, you're the boss", I replied.
"Right you are then". He led me outside and when we reached his car he passed me a pistol and magazine. I checked and loaded it and put it down the front of my pants. I looked at him and smiled. He was dressed almost the same as me, down to his footwear.
"Do you think we stand out as soldiers?" I joked.
"Too right", he added. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine". We got in his car and drove up to the gatehouse. He flashed his ID at the man on guard. "Taking this guy back to NHSM", he said to the guard. I handed over my ID card. The man on duty wrote down our details and the car registration. Handing back my ID card, the gate lifted and we drove away.
"What day is it?", I asked.
"Don't ask me, I only work here", the driver replied.
I looked out the window. It looked like it had been raining. It hadn't rained at all since I'd been in Belfast.
The car pulled into a car park near the Belfast Town Hall. I followed the driver as he got out and walked towards the building. He walked inside and found another man. They exchanged words and then we went back outside.
"Just getting them to keep an eye on things", he said.
We walked to the city centre gates. The main precinct was blocked off to traffic and you had to go through a check point. I noticed that the RUC manning this checkpoint were searching everyone passing through. I then remembered I had a pistol down my pants. My companion just walked straight up to the gates. The RUC took one look at the both of us, checked our ID's and waved us through.
"Right. Just want to buy a record. Do you want anything?", I was asked.
"No, I'm fine thanks".
We then went into a record shop. Looking around it didn't 'feel' right. I just wanted to be back with the guys. I trailed behind my guide noticing that wherever we went the shoppers went the other way.
After paying for his purchase we went straight back to the car. Without getting told I dropped down on my hands and knees and started looking underneath the car, checking for car bombs or anything else out of the ordinary.
I caught a look of the other guys face underneath the car doing the same.
"Anything your side?", I asked.
"Looks clean", he answered.
Heart in my mouth, he opened the door and started the car up. I jumped in and without further ado he drove me 'home' and back to my mates.
Inside New Barnsley. Toilet block is behind the blast wall to the left of the picture.
