Six months ago Sergeant-Major Andrew Stockton had his arm blown apart by a
rocket-propelled grenade in Afghanistan. His life was saved because the
grenade didn’t detonate as it tore through his forearm but when it hit the
Land Rover behind him.
If he had been standing a few inches to the left he would be dead. Instead he
is standing in his kitchen in Wiltshire, making me a cup of coffee.
I am amazed as I see Stockton, 39, deftly negotiating various kitchen
appliances and I cannot help looking at the rolled-up sleeve where his left
arm should be. He is good-looking, slim, confident and certainly not the
withdrawn self-pitying man he could so easily have become. Meeting Stockton
has an added piquancy for me because my boyfriend is serving a six-month
tour in Afghanistan; it is a sharp reminder of what is at stake.
Last week the MoD announced it was going to award the first posthumous
Victoria Cross in 24 years and a Military Cross to two soldiers who
displayed extraordinary bravery in the Afghan campaign. Out there the army
is confronting the fiercest fighting since the Korean war, enduring 15-hour
battles with Taliban insurgents. Thirty-six British soldiers have been
killed since June this year and 27 have been maimed. Stockton is one of
them.
He deployed with a battery from 32 Regiment, Royal Artillery, on May 15 this
year to Helmand Province in southern Afghanistan. He and his men were
conducting aerial surveillance operations from the ground using UAVs
(unmanned aerial vehicles). On June 11, less than a month into his tour, one
of the air vehicles came down unexpectedly. A patrol sent out from Camp
Bastion to recover the aircraft was ambushed by a group of 50 Taliban and
forced into a firefight.
Lance Bombardier Tom Mason was severely injured. Stockton ordered a second
convoy to go to their aid, which also came under fire.
This time Captain Jim Philippson, 29, of 7 Parachute Regiment, Royal Horse
Artillery, died trying to save a wounded colleague. He was the first British
soldier to be killed in this campaign in Afghanistan. Stockton had to lead a
third support convoy, knowing that one of his officers had been killed. “I
was scared as we pulled away; especially knowing that Philippson had already
died. I didn’t know what we were letting ourselves in for, but it was all
hands to the pump.”
As the convoy travelled along a narrow road, Stockton saw a large flash and
presumed the insurgents had released a rocket-propelled grenade (RPG). “I
jumped out of the Land Rover and moved away from the vehicle to scan for
targets, I turned and was hit. The force of it knocked me to the ground. One
of my soldiers strapped up my arm with a plastic cuff to stop me bleeding to
death.”
The convoy moved slowly out of the “kill zone”, while Stockton’s arm was
dressed by a medic. The insurgents continued to fire and for an hour it was
impossible for a Chinook to land to take Stockton back to Bastion.
“I was slipping in and out of consciousness but I remember thinking that I was
so glad that I had been hit and not one of my men. That would have been much
harder to bear.”
Within three hours of the attack, the remaining ribbons of Stockton’s arm were
being sawn off. His fiancée Emma Bateman got a knock on the door of their
home at 3am. She looked out of the window and saw a man in a suit she
recognised as a captain from the regiment. She thought Andrew was dead. The
captain reassured her that it was not that bad.
“He told me that Andy had been shot in the arm and that he was stable, but I
didn’t even know whether he still had his arm or not. To be honest, I didn’t
care — the important thing was that he was still alive.”
Stockton called Emma and his parents the next morning. “I was apprehensive
about telling Emma. I didn’t know how she’d respond. Up until that point,
the adrenaline had kept me going but I broke down when I heard her voice. I
had to leave my father to tell my mum, as I just couldn’t bear to tell her
what had happened to me.”
At this point, Stockton offers to show me his stump. There is the distinct
sound of pride in his voice as he works his way out of his shirt with his
good arm. “Sorry, it’s a bit bruised. I broke my stump two weeks ago when I
was skiing.” I must remind you at this point that Stockton only lost his arm
in June, and he is now skiing, has done a Professional Association of Diving
Instructors diving course and gone white-water rafting.
“I broke my stump because I fell and instinctively reached out to break my
fall as if I still had my arm. I have a phantom limb, I still feel I have my
hand; I can feel it all the time.”
Stockton was back in Britain four days after losing his arm and was admitted
for treatment at the Royal Centre for Defence Medicine at Selly Oak in
Birmingham, an NHS hospital. This is the very same hospital where a wounded
member of the Parachute Regiment was verbally assaulted by a Muslim man
while he was receiving treatment last October. He accused the soldier of
“killing my Muslim brothers in Afghanistan”. Stockton was later referred to
the Defence Medical Rehabilitation Centre at Headley Court in Surrey for
four weeks for further rehabilitation and assessment.
He enjoyed his time there as he was with soldiers who had undergone similar
traumas and was able to make light of his situation in a way that civilian
patients would probably not be comfortable with. “I’d joke that I was much
better off than someone who had lost their leg, and they’d say that I was
much worse off. It helped to be with like-minded people.”
While Stockton was there the doctors showed him a catalogue and he was able to
choose whatever fittings he wanted for his prosthetic arm.
Getting out a back pack which contains his arm complete with eight
attachments, including a snooker cue holder and ski pole holder, he
brandishes a hook — this he chose purely to delight his nieces. Last to
emerge is the hand itself which he introduces as “thing”. He is like a
gleeful child showing me his new Christmas presents.
I brace myself when Stockton suggests I see the pictures of his amputation. He
chuckles as he warns me that they’re rather gruesome. They are worse than
that. In the first picture, Stockton is lying unconscious on the operating
table, his combat trousers soaked in blood. His left forearm is shredded but
there is not a drop of blood on his hand. I notice there is a tattoo on his
wedding finger. “The way I see it, losing my arm saved me 1,600 quid on
tattoo removal!”
The black humour that is intrinsic to morale in the army permeates Stockton’s
descriptions of his horrific maiming. In a macabre moment during the
photoshoot, he walks into the kitchen shouting, “Emma, where’s my hand?”
“It’s in the lounge,” she replies. “The dog was chewing on it.”
Stockton sustained several injuries in the attack; the loss of his arm, a
broken finger, a ripped tendon and, of course, the phantom limb pain. In
total, he was awarded £57,000 compensation from the MoD, a pittance compared
with the maximum figure of £500,000 that the Criminal Injuries Compensation
Authority would pay out to a police officer who suffered a similar injury.
However, despite the discrepancy the money has enabled him to pay off the
mortgage on his home and meant he was able to buy a customised car so he can
still drive. He will also receive a monthly guaranteed income payment,
acknowledging that he will find it hard to earn a similar wage on civvy
street.
So financially, Stockton is being looked after but for all his good humour and
optimism, his 18-year career in the Army is over. “I’m a soldier. I want to
run around with a gun — I didn’t join the army to be stuck behind a desk. I
would never be able to go on tour again now and that is what I love, so I’m
going to leave.”
Of the 27 servicemen who have been maimed in the course of duty, only four
have remained in the army. So what does a squaddie with one arm go on to do?
“I’m going to study psychology and I want to do some voluntary work with
Blesma [the British Limbless Ex-Service Men’s Association]. They’ve done so
much to help me and I’d really like to give something back and help soldiers
who have had similar things happen to them.”
Blesma is a charity that operates with no financial backing from the MoD. It
organises trips to keep these fit, often young, men active and which
arguably helps to keep them from falling into the deep depression that can
follow such a trauma. Stockton has been white-water rafting and diving with
them and only reluctantly cancelled another skiing trip to Colorado when he
broke his stump.
Most of Britain’s military hospitals were shut in the 1990s and there has been
widespread discontent over the mixing of traumatised soldiers with civilian
patients in standard hospitals. More than 600 soldiers have been flown back
to Britain after being injured in operations abroad.
Scott Garthley, 38, who was seriously injured on the first day of the 2003
Iraq war, was evacuated to a hospital where he was told to take off his
uniform in case he offended anybody. Stockton is philosophical about the
loss of his arm, but admits this is not something he ever expected to go
through, despite three tours of Iraq and four of Northern Ireland. “You
imagine that you might be killed, but you never think you’ll go home maimed.
I have a very positive outlook on life generally and I know that has helped
me cope with what happened. I’m a soldier and this is the risk you take when
you join up.”
Stockton concedes that while his treatment has been excellent, he cannot speak
for other soldiers who have suffered similar traumas.
“There are some who haven’t had it as good as me. The doctors keep telling me
that I could be plunged into a pit of despair at any time but at the moment
I’m fine.”
