It's Only Pretend - Isn't It?
One of the most intense times of my Naval Career was the day I was 'volunteered' by my Divisional Officer to take part in the annual 'Exercise' involving the elite SBS and Royal Marines, plus local emergency services and police. It was one of those times where you did all you could to get out of camp before it started or else you were stuck there, having to carry a gas mask around with you while doing things like fighting pretend fires, evacuating from pretend bombs and running messages around for Officers in charge.
If, like me and my colleague Alison, you had to take part, you were allocated a task. Ours was to go to a small store room half way up the cliffs of Portland, within the Naval Base, with our Burberry Mac and Respirator (Gas Mask) and wait for instructions. We went and waited.
After a few minutes we heard shouting and people running up the road. Two men in black, wearing balaclava's and carrying guns came around the corner, shouted "Get Your Hands Up" and pointed the guns at us. Not at all the kind of instructions we were expecting! They then pushed us into the store room and locked the door.
The store was a two roomed building with a door and small window in one room and shelving in the other. Infront of the window was a table and two chairs. I was told to sit on the one next to the window, Alison on the other which they placed opposite the door. To say my heart was racing would be putting it mildly.
Once the initial shouting and arranging subsided, we sat in the silence waiting for the two 'gunmen' to talk to us, telling us what they were doing and what roles we had to play. But they didn't. Alison and I looked at each other trying to stifle those embarrassing giggles you get at inappropriate times. After about ten minutes one of us said something to the gunmen but were immediately told to "shut up".
Alison indicated with her eyes for me to look out of the window. I could see movement in the surrounding bushes and trees, the odd flash of colour, rustle of greenery etc. We were being held hostage!
A while later we leapt out of our skin when the old dusty phone rang loudly. Alison was told to answer but say nothing only repeat what she was being told. It was the usual "Are you both safe?", "What do they want?" kind of thing. (like on the telly!). The conversation went on for a few minutes with demands for a car and helicopter. Then back to silence.
I realised that we had been positioned specifically to protect the gunmen. If they tried to shoot through the window I would be hit, Alison if they shot through the door. The gunmen moved around the two rooms, never sitting or talking. We couldn't move from the chairs but weren't tied up or anything.
After a while, maybe an hour or so, Alison was told to use the phone to ask for food and drink to be sent over and left on the step. I had to go to the door, open it slowly and only look down, pick up the tray and bring it straight in. By now I really thought I would be shot if I didn't do as they said. The whole situation now seemed very real.
We ate and drank in silence. A few more phone calls between the gunmen and those outside and the afternoon slowly passed by. Then suddenly I was told to stand up and put my respirator up inside my coat. I had miraculously conceived and was heavily pregnant (all within an afternoon!) I was being released.
In my head I knew it really was just pretend. Just an exercise, thats all. However, my legs shook and adrenaline raced through my body. I didn't want to leave the safety of the store. I had no idea what would happen once I was outside. I was scared.
I was pushed out the door with a gun pointed at my back. The door slammed shut and I was left standing there, not knowing what to do next. Those few seconds seemed like hours and then I heard a voice telling me to walk very slowly up the path. "Look straight ahead, walk slowly, no sudden movements". I did as I was told until I reached an area where there were some bushes. For the first time I saw just how many people were hidden amongst them. Snipers, police, medics....
"Gail, we need you to do something now. On the count of 3 you have to quickly dive to your right into the space between the bushes. Blink twice if you understand" I blinked twice.
"One, two, three......". As I dived onto the ground it all started happening. Gunshot rang out, people shouting, smoke canisters thrown. I just lay there, aware that someone was with me but scared to get up or look.
And then it was over. The gunmen were brought out of the store, and we were ushered away in a tilly along with a few others to a de-briefing session where we were asked about our reactions and emotions while being held hostage. They told us that our behavour followed the Stockholm Syndrome pattern where hostages resisted rescue because they felt safer with the terrorists than in the unknown.
If, like me and my colleague Alison, you had to take part, you were allocated a task. Ours was to go to a small store room half way up the cliffs of Portland, within the Naval Base, with our Burberry Mac and Respirator (Gas Mask) and wait for instructions. We went and waited.
After a few minutes we heard shouting and people running up the road. Two men in black, wearing balaclava's and carrying guns came around the corner, shouted "Get Your Hands Up" and pointed the guns at us. Not at all the kind of instructions we were expecting! They then pushed us into the store room and locked the door.
The store was a two roomed building with a door and small window in one room and shelving in the other. Infront of the window was a table and two chairs. I was told to sit on the one next to the window, Alison on the other which they placed opposite the door. To say my heart was racing would be putting it mildly.
Once the initial shouting and arranging subsided, we sat in the silence waiting for the two 'gunmen' to talk to us, telling us what they were doing and what roles we had to play. But they didn't. Alison and I looked at each other trying to stifle those embarrassing giggles you get at inappropriate times. After about ten minutes one of us said something to the gunmen but were immediately told to "shut up".
Alison indicated with her eyes for me to look out of the window. I could see movement in the surrounding bushes and trees, the odd flash of colour, rustle of greenery etc. We were being held hostage!
A while later we leapt out of our skin when the old dusty phone rang loudly. Alison was told to answer but say nothing only repeat what she was being told. It was the usual "Are you both safe?", "What do they want?" kind of thing. (like on the telly!). The conversation went on for a few minutes with demands for a car and helicopter. Then back to silence.
I realised that we had been positioned specifically to protect the gunmen. If they tried to shoot through the window I would be hit, Alison if they shot through the door. The gunmen moved around the two rooms, never sitting or talking. We couldn't move from the chairs but weren't tied up or anything.
After a while, maybe an hour or so, Alison was told to use the phone to ask for food and drink to be sent over and left on the step. I had to go to the door, open it slowly and only look down, pick up the tray and bring it straight in. By now I really thought I would be shot if I didn't do as they said. The whole situation now seemed very real.
We ate and drank in silence. A few more phone calls between the gunmen and those outside and the afternoon slowly passed by. Then suddenly I was told to stand up and put my respirator up inside my coat. I had miraculously conceived and was heavily pregnant (all within an afternoon!) I was being released.
In my head I knew it really was just pretend. Just an exercise, thats all. However, my legs shook and adrenaline raced through my body. I didn't want to leave the safety of the store. I had no idea what would happen once I was outside. I was scared.
I was pushed out the door with a gun pointed at my back. The door slammed shut and I was left standing there, not knowing what to do next. Those few seconds seemed like hours and then I heard a voice telling me to walk very slowly up the path. "Look straight ahead, walk slowly, no sudden movements". I did as I was told until I reached an area where there were some bushes. For the first time I saw just how many people were hidden amongst them. Snipers, police, medics....
"Gail, we need you to do something now. On the count of 3 you have to quickly dive to your right into the space between the bushes. Blink twice if you understand" I blinked twice.
"One, two, three......". As I dived onto the ground it all started happening. Gunshot rang out, people shouting, smoke canisters thrown. I just lay there, aware that someone was with me but scared to get up or look.
And then it was over. The gunmen were brought out of the store, and we were ushered away in a tilly along with a few others to a de-briefing session where we were asked about our reactions and emotions while being held hostage. They told us that our behavour followed the Stockholm Syndrome pattern where hostages resisted rescue because they felt safer with the terrorists than in the unknown.
Psychologically it was extremely intense and an experience that will never leave me. Many times over the years while watching films or programmes involving hostages I have flashed back to that afternoon. I laugh now and ask myself how I could be so stupid to get into that state knowing it was only 'pretend'!
Scary experience! I wonder if they should really have given you an inkling beforehand of what was going to happen
ReplyDeleteThey didn't do that back then Merinz! Unless you were to be injured with a shard of glass protruding from your stomach or something you were in the dark.
ReplyDelete