July 7th 2005
I never used to 'get' the people in New York who, after the World Trade Centre attacks on September 11th 2001, came out and worked as volunteers in hastily assembled kitchens making soup for firemen. I couldn't perceive how this kind of thing would make a difference in the grand scheme of things. My perspective was forever changed in the summer of 2005.
On the morning of 7th July 2005 a series of coordinated suicide bomb blasts hit London's public transport system during rush hour. Carried out by British Islamist extremists, these atrocities were revenge for Britain's involvement in (amongst other things) the Iraq War.
Three Underground trains and one double decker bus were hit by the explosions in which 52 people were murdered and a further 700 injured. The first explosion was at 8.50am. By 9.20am London Underground declared a Code Amber Alert and suspended the entire network. Later the entire public transport system for central London was shut down. Mobile phone networks became inaccessible for about four hours. Hundreds of thousands of people spent the day frightened and confused, scared for relatives or friends they knew to be in London but could not contact. The news reports were vague and it was 24 hours before any kind of accurate report was given to the world.
In the summer of 2005 I was running an educational summer camp in London for foreign teenagers aged between 12 and 16. The centre had about 130 kids from around seven different nations and fourteen staff, ranging from English teachers to activity leaders. I was in overall control as Centre Manager with a Director of Studies and an Activity Manager below me and the others working for either of their departments. The company had around 20 centres in the UK and in October when the stats came back, mine was the only one not to have been billed for damage and to have come in under budget. Simple reason, I was strict but fair and didn't tolerate any nonsense from the kids. While they were there to have a good time it was made clear that rule breaking would result in punishment and Head Office eventually started sending me horrible kids from other centres on 'Thin Ice' agreements.
At about 10am on July 7th I was pottering about in the office when we got news that there had been some kind of explosion on the Underground in London. The kids were in lessons and the remaining staff plus those who worked in the kitchen sat or stood round the canteen TV to see what BBC News 24 had to say about the subject. As time moved on it became clear that this was not just an accident as more than one place had been hit and the footage showed wounded people being taken out of Kings Cross station. By the time we had a clearer idea of what had happened I called an emergency meeting of all the students and staff and stated that all excursions were cancelled and none of the kids were to go off site until further notice.
While landlines were still working, mobiles could not be reached. Initially we thought this was an Op COBRA measure to free up the network for essential calls but it later transpired that it was simply the amount of traffic, with people frantically phoning each other in the aftermath. I called Head Office and asked my boss if it was ok to go in to the Nick if COLP needed me.
He replied "go where you're most needed".
I warned the other two managers they might need to take control of the camp if I went in for duty but that seemed more and more unlikely as I was unable to reach my Section Officer Godfrey on his mobile.
We had been explicitly told that in the event of an emergency or serious incident we were absolutely NOT to simply turn up at the Nick. We had to wait to be called and asked to come in. This was to ensure that the Force knew exactly what resources they had at what time and was pretty much common sense. It did not however, help my frustrations at not knowing if I was needed or not.
Finally at about 1pm I managed to get through.
"Hi it's Lance"
"I know it's you, I saw your number come up". There was a pause. "How do you feel right now?"
"Like I want to put my fucking fist through the window" I replied.
Another pause.
"Maybe you shouldn't come in then".
"Figure of speech, I'm fine. I just want to help out".
A longer pause.
"Get in as soon as you can. We need everyone who can make it. Muster is at 1500".
More to follow in
Stab Proof Scarecrows by Lance Manley from Troubador Publishers.