A Fighting Spirit

A Fighting Spirit
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On 27 August 1979, Paul Burns's life changed for ever. Travelling through Warren Point in Northern Ireland when the IRA detonated two massive bombs, he was involved in a devastating explosion - eighteen soldiers were killed that day; Paul was one of only two who survived.Newly recruited to the Parachute Regiment, Paul was performing a tour of duty in Northern Ireland when a four-tonne truck in which he was travelling was destroyed by a massive IRA bomb. Eighteen of his friends and colleagues were killed in the Warrenpoint blast – the biggest single loss of life for the British Army during the Troubles.Paul barely survived. His body was broken. His left leg was amputated below the knee. His skin was burned down to the bone. Those who saw him wondered if it might not be kinder to let him die.At just eighteen, Paul thought his life was over. But he refused to be beaten. He had made a promise to himself that he would make up for the loss of his friends' lives by living his own life to the full.And just over five years later he was a member of the elite parachute display team, The Red Devils. In 1996 he entered the record books as a member of 'Time and Tide': the first ever disabled crew to sail around the world. Today he works as a disabled extra in tv and film – amongst his accolades he can count a role in Hollywood blockbuster Gladiator.His story is a remarkable tale of one man's determination to make the most of his life against the odds.

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PAUL BURNS

A FIGHTING

SPIRIT

The inspiring story of a soldier who survived the loss

of his comrades, faced adversity and overcome it all


This book is dedicated to all those who lost their lives at Warrenpoint, Northern Ireland, on 27 August 1979, and to their families.

ANDREWS, Corporal Nicholas J. (2 Para)—aged 24

BARNES, Private Gary I. (2 Para)—aged 18

BEARD, Warrant Officer Walter (2 Para)—aged 31

BLAIR, Lieutenant Colonel David (Queen’s Own Highlanders)—aged 40

BLAIR, Private Donald F. (2 Para)—aged 23

DUNN, Private Raymond (2 Para)—aged 20

ENGLAND, Private Robert N. (2 Para)—aged 23

FURSMAN, Major Peter (2 Para)—aged 35

GILES, Corporal John C. (2 Para)—aged 22

IRELAND, Lance Corporal Chris G. (2 Para)—aged 25

JONES, Private Jeffrey A. (2 Para)—aged 18

JONES, Corporal Leonard (2 Para)—aged 26

JONES, Private Robert D.V. (2 Para)—aged 18

MacLEOD, Lance Corporal Victor (Queen’s Own Highlanders)—aged 24

ROGERS, Sergeant Ian A. (2 Para)—aged 31

VANCE, Private Thomas R. (2 Para)—aged 23

WOOD, Private Anthony G. (2 Para)—aged 19

WOODS, Private Michael (2 Para)—aged 18

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Foreword

Prologue

Chapter One The Terror of Toton

Chapter Two The Maroon Machine

Chapter Five Broken

Chapter Six Moving On

Chapter Seven A Leap of Faith

Chapter Eight Red Devil

Chapter Nine The Wrong Way Round

Chapter Ten Preparing for the Race

Chapter Eleven The Lonely Sea and the Sky

Chapter Twelve The Southern Ocean

Chapter Thirteen Sea Change

Chapter Fourteen Not Forgotten

Chapter Fifteen The Silver Screen

Acknowledgements

Copyright

About the Publisher

This an extraordinary and moving story of courage and fortitude: Paul Burns, as a young soldier in the Parachute Regiment, was grievously wounded in the IRA bomb attack at Warrenpoint in Northern Ireland in 1979. He refused to let the loss of one leg and severe damage to his other foot rule his life, and went on to do so many things that might daunt fully able-bodied people: freefall parachuting, sub-aqua, motorbiking, skiing, and round-the-world sailing as a member of a disabled crew.

Paul Burns’s life is a triumph of the human spirit over adversity, and a shining example to us all, able-bodied or not. It is typical of him that he has given so much to others who have lost limbs—not least by his tremendous support to the British Limbless Ex-Service Men’s Association (BLESMA).

General Sir Mike Jackson

Prologue

Northern Ireland, 27 August 1979

Even the most extraordinary days start out ordinary. Today is no exception.

It’s hot. Our uniforms are stifling. The air in the back of the truck in which we’re travelling is heavy with exhaust fumes. I’m sitting at the back, my red beret perched firmly on my head, trying to get a few lungfuls of fresh air.

Elsewhere in the lorry I can hear my mates chatting. It’s just the usual army banter. They’re saying nothing of any great importance. Why would they? They don’t realize what is about to happen. None of us does.

There are only eight of us in the truck. There might have been more, but we’re laden down with boxes of ammo. Sometimes you have to be grateful for small mercies. If there had been more of us, the carnage that lies ahead would have been all the greater.

I look out of the vehicle and smile to myself. I’m just a young man, a kid from the Midlands, but already I’m seeing the world. Having an adventure. Doing what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a child. And it’s picturesque here. Breathtaking. The kind of place that tourists come to from far and wide to take the air and recharge their batteries. A famous beauty spot. But it’s about to become famous for a very different reason.

On the left-hand side of the truck is a stretch of water, a wide estuary that separates Northern Ireland from the Republic. And, on the other side of the water, thick forest coming down to the shore. It’s impossible for any of us to know what dangers those trees are hiding. Why would we even think about it? They are far away, and in any case we are members of the Parachute Regiment. We’ve passed one of the most rigorous selection procedures in the British Army. We are young and fit, well prepared and confident. Why should we fear what may be lurking in the woods?

The lorry trundles on. The lads continue to chat.

I continue to look out of the lorry, killing time till we reach our destination, little knowing that, for so many of my friends, time is coming to an end.

The worst horrors come without warning. The most brutal shocks are those for which you are the least prepared. And although, deep down, I know what the reality of conflict is, nothing could have prepared me for what is about to happen.

We drive past a trailer parked in a lay-by and filled with bales of hay. I do not notice it because there’s nothing to notice. It’s an ordinary scene. An innocent one.



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