Apology
I apologize profusely for the delay in this post. I said the next blog entry was going to be about the bodyguard training I went through with C.Q.B. Services in the UK. I was still a member of the Foreign Legion when I did it and so here it is. I’ve been held up because I’m working on the next book, and, as anyone can tell you who’s written one, it’s a laborious process that takes up a lot of time.
Bodyguard Training
I joined the Legion because I wanted to get into diplomatic protection. I’d already done bouncing and crowd control and wanted to move to the next level up i.e., VIP protection and armed security. When I talked to the agencies who supplied such men, I found out they had no interest in me or my black belts. They all told me they only hired ex-special forces because those guys had most of their training already. Think about it. The government has already vetted them. They’ve had their physical and psychological fitness evaluated. All of them have had training in firearms, first aid, and self-defense. They can obviously work as part of a team. They’re used to wearing uniforms and taking orders. Most have had combat experience and been under live fire.
I left in a funk and relayed the story to a mate of mine. He was driving some of the Saudi Royals around London and working with a team of guards. He invited me along to talk to them, and one of them, an Irishman, told me the Legion would be the best bet. My new mate explained that, while it wasn’t for everyone, I would at least learn rudimentary French. That, he went on to explain, would be a benefit if I planned on working in Europe. He also said I could learn pretty much any other language I wanted to as well.
C.Q.B. Services
In one of those serendipitous moments, a police mate of mine in Australia wrote to tell me that he was going to Europe to do a bodyguard training course with one of the very few agencies that taught civilians. He himself was hoping to get into that role in law enforcement and figured the training would help. He’d contacted a Mr. Dennis Martin of C.Q.B. Services (for those who don’t know, C.Q.B. is an acronym for Close Quarters Battle) and got the details. The course would be held in Shropshire (near Wales) and taught by both Dennis and Lofty Wiseman of 22 SAS fame. For those who don’t know, Lofty holds the distinction of being the youngest person ever to make it through SAS selection, and he is the author of the best-selling 22 SAS Survival book. I too, contacted Dennis, filled out my application, and waited for the training to begin.
Accepted
I had to arrange leave in the Legion to coincide with the bodyguard training, which was a bit tricky. Eventually, I pulled it off and arranged to meet my mate in London for the train ride up north. We were met by two swarthy-looking chaps, Phil and Brad, for the drive to the training camp. They didn’t say much, but they certainly looked the part. Phil was a paramedic in the legendary violent city of Liverpool. Brad was ex-military who’d been in since Moses played football for the Romans. Those four, Den, Lofty, Phil, and Brad, would be our cadre for the duration of the training.
First Night
The camp was set in the rolling hills of Shropshire and included a dormitory, a communal kitchen, and classrooms, as well as a gym. We were assigned rooms and, after dinner, gathered in the communal kitchen for tea, and a chance to get a brief about the training and to introduce ourselves. This was where we met the legendary Barry (see previous blog entry) and the rest of our trainees. Fortunately, Barry appeared to be the only wack job. Others included firemen and ex-military personnel looking for a career change or something they could use to augment their income on the side. One guy I hit it off with was a Gillie (groundsman) whose job was to go up against poachers. He turned out to be a great trainee and very switched on.
I remember Lofty and Den’s faces when I told them I was in the Legion. They both asked what I did in there, and I replied, “office work,” which, at the time, was true. (We have two roles in the Legion, a combat one and a peacetime one. Because we weren’t at war, I was in my peacetime role at the time). They both looked dubious, and Lofty said, “Not with those hands you don’t.” Although they look relatively normal now, my hands then were calloused from karate training and covered in scars from broken glass and teeth.
Part Two Coming Soon
Due to the length of this entry, I’ll cover the rest in a follow-up piece in a day or two. Stay tuned.
