Barry Donnan

Five Star Review of Fighting Back - 'Just read it, you will not be disappointed. Beware !!!!!!!! You will laugh and you will most definitely cry.' 10/10

Excerpt(s) from Fighting Back (May 1999) (Mainstream Publishing, Hardback).

'The First Battalion the Royal Highland Fusiliers are based in Edinburgh. On 21 December 1988, the battalion was looking forward to Christmas leave when they heard on the radio of the Lockerbie air disaster. Elements of the battalion immediately deployed to the area and the scale of the disaster became apparent. The initial sub-units at the primary site were soon aiding the local community of Lockerbie and assisting with the recovery of the dead. Thereafter, the battalion’s involvement increased as other organisations found it hard to cope with the tragedy. Many of the young soldiers were confronted with situations beyond imagination but continued selflessly with their primary task of recovering the bodies dispersed over a wide area. The conduct of the solders during this traumatic period demonstrated the commitment and the team spirit of the battalion and, above all, was a prime example of the professionalism of the army. In February 1989 the battalion moved to Cambridge, where they not only established a close relationship with their new neighbours but also maintained their bond with Lockerbie by continuing their active support for charities linked with the disaster. '

– Wilkinson Sword of Peace Citation.

Chapter Two - Lockerbie Pan-Am 103. Murder in the Sky.

'We set off that cold, dark December morning not knowing what to expect. Hour after hour we trudged through fields, over fences and hedges, but we found nothing. Every hour we stopped for a short break and reported back to incident headquarters. The signaller told us that 259 passengers had died and I realised that we had some very grim tasks ahead of us. At lunchtime we headed back onto the trucks and drove back to the primary school for some hot food. The school was crammed with different emergency services, there was over 1,000 police, and 600 military personnel drafted in to assist, as well as another four hundred soldiers from the RHF, who had been sent from Edinburgh. '

'We've been tasked to Tundergrath. From the news I knew on TV I knew that was where the cockpit lay like a wounder animal.'

Chapter Four - It's a Jungle Out There.

'The following week I was ordered to take part in a foot patrol, my job was the patrol signaller and the medic, I would be working with four squaddies from my old platoon, which was good news as I knew we would have a good laugh. The night before we were due to depart, I signed out a radio and checked all my call signs. At the briefing we were told the patrol would last five days, we were to reconnoitre an old jungle track and check out a couple of old helicopter landing sites, and if the landing sites were overgrown, we would set about clearing them as much as possible. We have a soldier from the BDF (Belizean Défense Force) with us to act as a guide.

'Next morning we sat at the helipad waiting, and as usual the helicopter was late so we had a good moan. We reckoned the aircrew would still be in the block, checking the gel in their hair and making sure they looked pretty. They were good at that. After two hours the plan changed: we would drive there.'

Chapter Five. You Could Knock Me Down with a Feather.

'On 16 February we moved to as a battalion to a holding point just outside Al-Qaysumah, We spent a couple of nights in Maryhill camp. This was a specially converted POW compound. The camp was divided into three separate compounds each one capable of holding around 2,000 prisoners. Around them were huge sand berms - a wall of sand pushed into place by bulldozers which created a high obstacle and ensured that the prisoners couldn't see what was going on - intertwined with some nasty looking razor wire, and overlooking area was a large sandbagged watchtower, complete with floodlights.'

Chapter Six - On the Run.

'Once a soldier has been AWOL for 28 days, the army then contact the local police, the soldier's details are noted and he is officially classed as an absconder and the police have the power to arrest you. The only problem was I didn't want to apprehended. I have nothing against the police, but to me they represented authority, similar to the army, after all they worked for the same people. If they wanted me they would have to catch me.'

Chapter Seven - Marking Time.

' You are sentenced to 112 days detention and soldier on. I didn't flinch. I was too shocked for that. I could hardly believe it. They hadn't listened to a word I had said.

'Soldier under sentence. march out!' screamed the escort, his voice echoing round the room. I about turned and marched from the room, totally humiliated.

I felt like turning back in and saying 'Look you've got it all wrong. You've made a big mistake.' But I didn't. The system had let me down, there was no justice in the court that day.

Next morning I was transported to MCTC, (The Glasshouse) just outside Colchester, which would be my home for the next couple of months. As I headed in the front gatehouse, struggling with all my kit, a voice boomed from inside the small building.

'March on the red spot and look up.'

I checked the ground for the red mark, then I lunged forward and stood on it. It was a large red circle, maybe three feet in diameter.

'Don't move an inch.'

I stood still. I was frightened. The voice was fearsome.

'Name?' I was asked.

'Donnan, sir.'

'Don't call me sir. I work for a living. Call me staff.' Typical I thought, trust me to come here when the biggest clown in the world was on duty. But they were all like that. The was my introduction to the Military Provost Staff Corps, who ran the place. My first impression was how mean the voice sounded, but voices can be deceptive. The man behind it was the height of nonsense.