Fighting for the French Foreign Legion Read online

  When I returned to Calvi after my leave I expected to return to my old duties at the BOI but instead I was asked to take over the ‘Cellule Audiovisuelle’, or ‘Photographic Unit’. The Sergeant in charge was being posted to Aubagne to work as the photographer for the Legion magazine, Le Kepi Blanc. This was a great opportunity for me and a particularly interesting career move. It meant that I would be involved in every exercise and operation which the Regiment would get involved in. The intention was that I would expand the scope of the unit to include my previous duties and help to introduce some of the new military photographic technology that was becoming available. It would be an enormous workload but I was looking forward to the challenge.

  The ‘Cellule’ consisted of a fifty-seater theatre where presentations and briefings took place. It was equipped with two giant TV monitors and an overhead projection system. There was a dark room for black and white development, a photo studio, file room and front office.

  I also had responsibility for the combat simulator unit called the ‘Cine-Tir’ – an indoor shooting range that had a film projection system. Combat situations were projected onto a large screen which was in fact two rolls of heavy duty paper about 2 inches apart. As the film rolled, legionnaires fired at moving targets in a variety of combat situations, from urban to open terrain, using their normal assault rifles while using ammunition with a plastic tip. When they fired, the projectile penetrated the two rolls of paper. The sound of the shot stopped the film and a light came on at the back of the system which let you see the exact point of impact. The projectile impacted harmlessly against a concrete wall and after a short delay the paper rolls moved 5cm in opposite directions before the film recommenced. It could also be used with anti-tank weapons which were fitted with a converter that fired the same ammunition as a rifle as you obviously couldn’t fire the real thing on an outdoor range. The facility was well used by the Regiment and the local Gendarmerie used it for side-arm training. Some of the films were very good and would simulate a hostage situation in which you could fire at the hostage taker under circumstances you wouldn’t dare risk in real-life situations. Every year the Regiment had a procurement budget which had to be spent by a particular date. If it was not used by then, the allocation for the following year would be reduced by the surplus, but as can be imagined, things were normally found to spend it on. Up until then the ‘Cellule Audiovisuelle’ had not been used to support operations and had no specialized military photographic equipment. I wanted to introduce equipment that was used to gather intelligence that could be developed in situ on actual operations, or sent back to base electronically in real time by satellite. Digital photography was a new technology at this time and the system I was looking at did not come cheap. The Regiment had been overseas for much of the year and had not spent its budget allocation. If you don’t ask you don’t get, so I put in a requisition order for almost £100,000 worth of equipment in the hope that I might get at least part of it. I was therefore astonished when I got everything on my list, which in itself led to another problem – I had no idea how to use it. I had read all about the advantages of the technology and about the great things it could do, but that’s not quite the same thing.

  I managed to get on a surveillance equipment course being run by a specialist arm of the Gendarmerie in Paris, the GIGN (Groupe d’Intervention Gendarmerie National) and spent a month with them. Apart from learning how to use the equipment, they took me along as an observer on some of their operations. The Legion and the Gendarmerie have always enjoyed an excellent relationship and I had worked with some of these guys before when they came to Calvi on exercise.

  It was a month well spent and seemed to fly past. Back in Calvi I wasted no time in getting my new toys into operation. My first task was to introduce the equipment to and train selected members of the CRAP, which was an unfortunate abbreviation for Le Commando de Renseignement et Action dans la Profondeur (Deep Reconnaissance Commando Group). This was the title of the small special operations unit which, although only thirty strong, had a reputation for being one of the best special forces units in the world.

  The unit was trained to operate well behind enemy lines, gathering information, destroying key installations or on diplomatic protection and hostage release. Methods of infiltration varied from high-altitude parachute drops day or night, to amphibious landings and helicopter assaults. The unit had specialist commando and support skills, and individual members were experts in signals, a variety of weapons, explosives, mapping and first aid. The unit was made up of men from a diversity of nationalities and cultural backgrounds, which meant that there were not many languages that were not spoken, or at least understood by someone in the group.

  They were a great team to work with and never made me feel inferior. Because the equipment was so new and still evolving, it was decided that it was easier to train me to become part of the team than the other way round. This would mean me having to qualify in freefall parachuting and passing the same physical tests, including being able to cover 30 kilometres in full combat gear in under three hours while carrying a 15-kilo pack and weapon. The course in Calvi started at sea level, went over a pass at 300 metres, then back downhill, ending in the camp. The object of the test was not to do it in a couple of hours and be out on your feet at the end, it was to finish as quickly as you could within the time and still be capable of completing a mission.

  Again this was an example of where my age was an advantage rather than an obstacle. My endurance levels were very good and I found it easier than many of my super-fit colleagues. The parachute training took place on the mainland at the French national parachute training centre at Pau. It was one of the best courses I have ever done and apart from learning the skills, it was fun. Back behind my desk in the ‘Cellule Audiovisuelle’, I settled down to the normal life of the Regiment.

  During this period we had a visit from the head of the French Army during our annual inspection. Part of this included a presentation by our Colonel in Chief to explain the strengths and weaknesses of the Regiment. The CIC explained that a considerable number of ex-British soldiers had joined the Regiment immediately after the Falklands War and that these men posed a particular challenge. If there was trouble on the base it seemed that the Brits were always behind it. The problem was that they became bored quickly, but if you worked them into the ground they were the best soldiers he had – no matter how hard he worked them, they always came back for more.

  My closest friend had just completed his sergeants’ course and was now attached to the 2nd Company, which specialized in mountain warfare. We both had flats in the same block and bought motorbikes which we felt was the best way to see the island. I bought a second-hand 250cc Honda trials bike, but my friend bought a brand-new 1,100cc Yamaha flying machine which became his pride and joy. The bikes were kept in a private car park at the back of our blocks and were not visible to casual passers-by.

  One morning when we came down the Yamaha was missing. We reported the theft to the Police and two days later it was found lying on the beach. It had been driven along the railway line that ran just behind the beach until the front forks had twisted. Although there was no proof, the Police pointed us in the direction of a gang of local lads they thought were responsible for the theft. They hung out in one of the portside bars and ran about on little mini-bikes which were regularly parked in a row along the quayside close to the water’s edge.

  That afternoon we went for a stroll down to the port and, low and behold there were the little bikes all neatly lined up just where we had expected to find them. There was a beer delivery lorry parked between the bar and the bikes blocking the view, so that no one could see us or the bikes. I don’t need to spell out what happened next, but salt water can do terrible things to a motorbike. It didn’t pay for the repair to the Yamaha, but it felt mighty good. A couple of days later I bumped into our friendly local Police officers who said, ‘Did you hear about the big wave at the harbour at the weekend? What a sh
ame, it swept all those lovely little bikes into the harbour,’ and that was the end of that.

  The standard of sport in the Regiment has always been exceptionally high. Fierce competition between the companies in all sports was encouraged and regular sports competitions were held. This was reflected nationally where members of the Regiment were national champions in both military and civilian events. Several members of the Regiment also represented the Legion when they won the Military World Team Cross-Country Championships.

  In the late 1980s and through the early 1990s, we had a great champion by the name of Caporal Chef Steve Tunstall. Steve was both the national military and civilian cross-country champion. He was English but took French citizenship to enable himself to represent France in the World Cross-Country Championships in New Zealand. He finished an honourable eleventh with only runners from the African nations beating him to the line. After leaving the Legion he returned to the UK and regained his UK nationality, before becoming British cross-country champion in 1993 and 1994.

  I had a particular interest in orienteering, qualifying as a military instructor in the discipline. I also ran cross-country for the Regiment in the veteran class and took part in national military competitions. Although I never won anything other than the regimental title, I enjoyed taking part.

  We had superb facilities including a six-lane tartan track, a football/rugby pitch and a 50-metre swimming pool with a cover like a polytunnel that could be rolled back in the summer. There were three tennis courts and an outdoors shooting range. On top of all that, the gymnasium was big enough to hold two tennis courts and there was a separate, well-equipped weights gym. There was also the ‘Centre Amphibie’ on the beach, which was part of 3rd Company. There was cycling, rugby, football, orienteering, clay pigeon shooting, judo, martial arts, boxing and even a couple of microlight aircraft. At the Centre Amphibie instruction was available in sailing, canoeing, surfing and diving, while even skiing was available in the winter at 2nd Company’s own centre in the mountains at Vergio. Several of the clubs were open to those with families, but the largest club of all was the parachute club, which was only to be expected in a parachute regiment. The parachute club was in action every weekend throughout the year and several of my longer-serving colleagues had made thousands of jumps.

  Training in the Regiment was non-stop and, with each company having its own speciality, there was no room for anyone not prepared to give 100 per cent. There was a lot of effort put into being, or striving to be, the best in the world at what we did. Everyone wore their uniform and regimental badge with pride.

  On a personal level I was still using my artistic abilities outside the office. Military subjects have always been a source of inspiration for an artist and I was no different. I painted several large murals on the interior walls of the different companies depicting their specialist activities.

  Every year there was a national military art competition, with the winners of each military region taking part in the final held in Paris. The first year I entered I submitted a couple of watercolours depicting Corsican landscapes. Although they were well thought of I was advised by an experienced official military artist that to win such a competition you had to catch the eye of the judges by submitting something that was a bit controversial.

  The following year I prepared a couple of paintings with the title ‘The Price of Liberty’. They depicted an Afghan boy of twelve in one and his grandfather in the other, both of whom were prepared to give their lives in the fight against the Russian occupation of their country. Controversial they certainly were, I won the regional watercolour category and was invited to take part in the finals in Paris. The final was held each year in ‘l’Orangerie du Senat’, which is at the back of the French Parliament building. The competition was open to all military personnel, which in France includes the Gendarmerie, and the Fire and Ambulance services. That is in addition to the Army, Navy and Airforce. Originally there were thousands of contestants so it was a great honour to be in the final selection.

  A panel of judges was drawn from senior officers from each service and the opening of the exhibition was performed by the President, Francois Mitterrand. My paintings caused quite a stir and the very person who had advised me to paint something controversial was the first to object to them being hung. In the end they were hung and I won first prize in the watercolour category. I was later approached by an Afghanistan Embassy official who offered me a very good price for them but was advised by, let’s say, a French government official, not to go through with the sale. I still have them.

  Having enjoyed my five minutes of fame in Paris, it was back to work as usual. A typical day started with getting up at 5.30 am, then off to the camp after breakfast. Each company assembled at 7.00 am, followed by an hour of collective physical activity which would normally be an 8-10k cross-country run with a quick swim in the sea if time permitted. You then had half an hour to have a shower and a coffee before starting the day’s work at 8.30. Lunch was from 12.30 to 2.00 pm during which time I normally had a game of snooker in the mess before returning to work until 6.00 pm. If it was a jump day, it would be straight to the airport at 7.00 am, get in a couple of jumps then resume the normal day’s work schedule. If you were on 24-hour guard duties, the changeover took place at 6.00 am each morning. When you came off duty at 6.00 the following morning, you had until 9.00 am to have a shower, breakfast and be back at your desk. It made for a long day, but everyone had to take their turn. As Chef du Post (NCO in charge of the guard), you only had guard duty half a dozen times a year. At 6.00 pm every night, an additional detail of eight Legionnaires made up the numbers for the night guard.

  Every moment of the day was put to good use and the four front-line combat companies trained non-stop perfecting their specialist techniques. During my time with 1st Company, we had the use of an abandoned holiday camp close to the beach that we used for urban warfare training and was ideal for house-to-house combat.

  The citadel in Calvi housed the Officers’ Mess in what had been the Genoese governor’s palace in the days when the island was occupied by the Italians. The father of Christopher Columbus was the Governor of Calvi for many years so Corsicans like to claim that as Columbus was born in Calvi he was therefore Corsican. He certainly would have spent much of his childhood there and there’s a plaque in the citadel which acclaims this as fact.

  The citadel also housed the old military hospital and it had been converted by the Legion to provide holiday accommodation for the first-year legionnaires who were not allowed to leave the island. It could also be used by legionnaires who had short-term leave and did not want to spend it in the camp. I used it a couple of times myself in my early days. The old hospital wards were converted to be used as club rooms by families for clubs such as painting, tapestry and embroidery.

  The citadel, with its 100-foot-high ramparts, narrow streets and large stone buildings, was the ideal place to hold exercises. The four combat companies worked together in a demonstration of modern combat techniques. 3rd Company brought everyone involved in the assault across the bay onto the rocks below the ramparts, by Zodiac. 2nd Company then scaled the walls and set up ladders and ropes for the others to climb up. Once over the walls 1st Company would secure the area before the 4th Company would clear the area of any mines or booby traps. Once the citadel was secure the CRAP would make a helicopter assault onto the roof of the old hospital before working their way downwards into the building, using the stairs or by abseiling in through the windows to release the hostages. All of this was done in full view of the tourists who were still walking round the streets or visiting the cathedral. Once they were assured that it was only an exercise, they loved it and it always drew a large crowd. They cheered and applauded as the hostages were led out.

  The spectacle did not stop there. Almost everyone left the way they had arrived but 2nd Company always concluded the show by making a spectacular death slide from the top of the ramparts into the public car park on the outsid
e of the citadel. The finale was when the youngest member of the Company was strapped to a stretcher and lowered head first and at great speed into the car park. The stretcher was always rigged in such a way that it turned upside – a very scary moment for the youngster who had no idea what he was being set up for.

  The 2nd Company had their own training camp in the mountains at Vergio, where they have excellent cold-weather conditions in winter for skiing and all aspects of mountain warfare. 3rd Company had their own amphibious training centre on the beach and train regularly with the French Navy using submarines and amphibious assault craft. 4th Company specialized in the use of explosives, mines and the use of snipers. They had two firing ranges at their disposal a short distance from the camp, the legionnaires training non-stop to become experts in their chosen specialities.

  The heavy support company, ‘Le Compagnie d’Eclairage et Appui’, or CEA, had heavy and light mortar sections, 20mm anti-aircraft guns and other heavy equipment. All weapons and equipment used by the Regiment had to be transportable by parachute or support helicopters. Speed of deployment and withdrawal are so important on live-firing exercises that they trained regularly against the clock. The CRAP, although an autonomous specialist commando unit, came under the command of the CEA.

  Since my retirement, two additional support companies have been added, plus a reserve company made up entirely of ex-legionnaires who live in and around Calvi. They perform non-combat duties such as manning the Regiment’s fire service in the dry summer months when there are regular large wildfires on the island.

  The Regiment regularly took part in joint exercises with the US Mediterranean Fleet so my translator skills were called on to liaise between the US commanders and the French High Command. On one such occasion we held a joint exercise in the south of Corsica. The US forces were making an amphibious landing with all the logistical might of the US Fleet. The REP was there to oppose the landings. We watched from a vantage point as the US Navy Seals landed and made the beach secure before calling in the main force which had remained out of sight several miles off the coast. There was no sign of any resistance and the beach master made the call for the invasion to start.