Joys of War by John-Paul Jordan

Author:John-Paul Jordan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: HISTORY / Military / General
ISBN: 9781526743152
Publisher: Pen and Sword
Published: 2018-10-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Cutbacks Cut

I was apprehensive. I certainly wasn’t in a UK mindset owing to the fact I was only just out of a war zone. I really could have done with a week or so at home to unwind and chill. I was still highly-coiled from battle. I was unsure also of how to deal with the injury on my elbow; it wasn’t a massive issue but it did need sorting. I knew if I just left it I’d have problems with it later down the line. I wouldn’t have much room to manoeuvre with any claims for support; they’re always looking for a getout clause. A good friend who is a patrol medic advised me to get it seen to and get it on record just for assurance. I felt guilty though. I’d seen men with far, far worse injuries. Also I hadn’t been maimed like them, even after being in three explosions at less than 10ft from the device, 2ft being the closest and nothing.

It’s only now I realize that my injuries were non-visible injuries. I don’t call it mental health; I’m trying to steer us away from that. The term has been polluted over time. A fresh start is required and the wording non-visible injuries sums it up best. Injury means temporary. I wish I’d known this at the time of arriving in Chilwell. I whizzed round the different sections. I left the medical and administration until the end. I did my hearing test and same problem again: ears were still ringing and are today from explosions and gunfire, even with them being partially covered at the time. I passed somehow, most likely by again pressing the trigger like I was possessed. As I waited to see the doctor it felt different; there was a hint of animosity towards the returning soldiers. The more seriously wounded would have been airlifted out of Afghanistan and straight to Selly Oak, but some of those with minor injuries, especially ones needing physio and so on for several weeks before they were back on their feet, were having to fight tooth and nail to receive any form of treatment. Obviously MOD Whitehall don’t want to cut back on defence deals even if they’re being ripped off, but will fuck the Tommies straight away to save pennies, not pounds. All these ‘remps’, rear echelon mother-fuckers as the US Marines on the front line would call them or, to us, those ‘in the rear with the gear’, while we’re running low on ammunition, food and lives, they’re fattened pigs, protecting their interests.

I was called forward to see the doctor, a chubby middle-aged balding man from Greece. I knew he was just a hired-in locum. All the military likes outsourcing too. He didn’t seem that competent to me. The elbow was deformed and inflamed; he said it would subside. I disagreed, and after a battle of wills I was given the chance to seek a second opinion. The following week I had an appointment at the Park Hospital outside Nottingham, very near to the police HQ.

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