We watched CNN news and talked about different scenarios.

We guessed the parameters of our operations would be loose, but that wouldn’t mean we could just go around blowing up power lines or whatever else we saw. We’re strategic troops, so what we do behind enemy lines can have serious implications. If we saw a petroleum line, for example, and blew it up just for the fucking badness of it, we might be bringing Jordan into the war: it could be a pipeline from Baghdad to Jordan which the Allies had agreed not to destroy so that Jordan still got its oil. So if we saw an opportunity target like that, we’d have to get permission to deal with it. That way we could cause the maximum amount of damage to the Iraqi war machine, but not damage any political or strategic considerations.

If we were caught, we wondered, would the Iraqis kill us? Too bad if they did. As long as they did it swiftly-if not, we’d just have to try and speed things up.

Would they fuck us? Arab men are very affectionate with each other, holding hands and so on. It’s just their culture, of course; it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re shit stabbers, but the question had to be asked. I wasn’t that worried about the prospect, because if it happened to me I wouldn’t tell. The only scenario that did bring me out in a sweat was the possibility of having my bollocks cut off. That would not be a good day out. If the rag heads had me tied down naked and were sharpening their knives, I’d do whatever I could to provoke them into slotting me.

I’d never worried about dying. My attitude to the work I am expected to do in the Regiment has always been that you take the money off them every month and so you’re a tool to be used-and you are. The Regiment does lose people, so you cater for that eventuality. You fill in your insurance policies, although at the time only Equity amp; Law had the bottle to insure the SAS without loading the premium. You write your letters to be handed to next of kin if you get slotted.