Ollerton Ollie - Break Point

OLLIVE OLLERTON

Published by Blink Publishing
The Plaza,
535 Kings Road,
Chelsea Harbour,
London, SW10 0SZ

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Hardback 9781788702065
Trade Paperback 9781788702072
Ebook 9781788702089

All rights reserved. No part of the publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted or circulated in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission in writing of the publisher.

A CIP catalogue of this book is available from the British Library.

Copyright by Matthew Ollerton, 2019

Matthew Ollerton has asserted his moral right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Every reasonable effort has been made to trace copyright holders of material reproduced in this book, but if any have been inadvertently overlooked the publishers would be glad to hear from them.

Blink Publishing is an imprint of the Bonnier Books UK
www.bonnierbooks.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my mum, whose unconditional love and care held firm even when all around her was falling apart.

To my amazing girlfriend Laura, who will never quite understand just how much she helps me grow.

And to my son Luke, who I missed every day and never forgot.

Names, locations, procedures and specific events
have been redacted to protect the security of those
involved and the practices of the British Special Forces.
Everything else has been described as it happened.

T here was not much to see on the road from Amman to Baghdad. There was sun, of course, searing a mighty hole through acre after acre of blue. Camels and goats, foraging for unseen greenery. The odd bomb crater and chewed-up vehicle, including a bright red Ferrari, which would have made more sense on the moon. And mile after mile of highway, hugged by a watery haze and cutting a swathe through the flat and featureless desert landscape.

Wed been on the road for what seemed like forever when it was my turn to take the wheel. Id travelled 14 hours the day before and was driving on autopilot, my mind and body merged with the vehicle and tarmac beneath it. Before Id set off that day, Id been convinced hopeful, even that something big might break the monotony. But as the milometer ticked over, all I could think about was getting home and collapsing in my pit.

It was as I was telling my colleague Dave of my evenings plans that something caught my eye in my wing mirror. I looked over my shoulder to see headlights flashing behind us. It was about 17:45 and there were no other vehicles on the road. My immediate thought was that it was the American military. No problem. But as the vehicle gathered speed and drew closer, I realised that it couldnt be the Americans, because the vehicle a black Mercedes had blacked-out windows. I then thought it might be a security company. But if it was, what did they want me to do? Pull over? There was no way I was taking that risk.

I informed Dave that we had a possible target to the rear. Dave informed me that there were in fact two pursuing vehicles. As I was considering the possibilities, the windows came down on the front vehicle and four AK47s emerged. Oh, fuck. I glanced to my left and saw a sign that said FALLUJAH, and it dawned on me: that something big that I thought might happen that Id desperately wanted to happen was happening, in the very place Id imagined. Talk about tempting fate, I thought to myself. You fucking idiot

My body began to roast from the toes upwards. My senses heightened, which happens when you are suddenly pitched into blackness. My mind contracted into a tangled ball of confusion so that I couldnt think. Id gone into shock. It was as if Id died for a second and was looking down on myself. I had no idea what I was going to do. I felt very alone, vulnerable and pathetic. An image flashed through my mind: me on the side of the road, minus my head. But it wasnt just me who was in danger of being killed, I was responsible for Dave behind me and 12 civilians piled into vans in front, employees of ABC News.

The pressure and anxiety were about to spill over when gunfire rang out. AK47 fire is very distinct and very intimidating. When there are four going off at the same time, its like some hellish orchestra, extremely noisy and extremely nasty. In fact, and rather appropriately, it sounds like the cracking that signals the start of an avalanche. But when a couple of rounds came over the top of our vehicle, which might have buried some people, it was as if a hypnotist had clicked his fingers, bringing me out of my trance. In the military, as soon as it gets noisy, it gets real. It was at that moment that my training kicked in.

I knew that unless I tamed the stress, we were all going to die. So I gained control of my breathing, stripped away all the shit that didnt matter, and began to think rationally. The people in the vehicles in front didnt matter, it was my actions that mattered, because it was my actions that would affect them. I had to put aside all the different pressures and anxieties and deal with the threat. That was the only way to resolve the issue at hand.

It had all happened so fast, but once I had my breathing under control, everything slowed down. In effect, I was able to control the speed of events. Some might think a second is simply a second, end of story. But a second is only as short or long as the person who experiences it. You can decide how long a second is, but only if youre at ease with the situation youre in. If youre stressed and panicking, a second will feel like no time at all. If youre not, it can feel two or three times as long. You only have to watch sport to realise this. Most people facing a punch thrown by a professional boxer would wear it and hit the deck. But another professional boxer might see that punch coming, slip it and come back with one of his own. Thats what I had to do.

I gave Dave the order to stand by and flung our vehicle towards the middle lane to our right. It wasnt a move I thought about, it was just instinct. The enemy pulled up beside us on our left, which was quite foolish of them: they were now boxed in by the central reservation and had no idea who we were or whether we had weapons. As it happened, I had my left hand on the steering wheel and my right hand on my MP5 kurz, which was on my lap. Meanwhile, Dave was sitting behind me with an AK47 of his own.

I checked the safety catch on my weapon was off and looked to my left through the closed window. Id been in gunfights before, but this was the first time Id seen the whites of the enemys eyes. I was no more than two feet away from the guy in the passenger seat. I could have reached out and touched him. He was just a boy, wearing an Arab headdress and white robes. This kid is the same as me, I thought, just working for someone else. His expression wasnt aggressive or menacing, he looked like he didnt want to be there.

As uncomfortable as the boy looked, he still did what he thought he had to do. His AK47 fell in line with my head, as did the AK47 behind him. I stared even more intently into the boys piercing blue eyes, as if trying to make a telepathic connection. I desperately wanted to hear him say, Dont worry, Im not going to shoot you. Instead, silence. I really didnt want to do what I needed to do. But all he had to do was feather the trigger and that would have been it. I had to take action. I was at break point. If I took the situation to the next level poked the hornets nest it might make things worse. But it was my only hope to make things better. If I did nothing, we were going to get shot and people might die. Including me.