Mercenary Mum: My Journey from Young Mother to Baghdad Bodyguard (21 page)

TWO MONTHS INTO MY ROTATION
I hooked up with Josh, the biggest, baddest, fiercest-looking security bloke I could find, and slowly I began to win back control of my body. With Josh in my life, I felt a little safer at night. I was determined not to be afraid of having a relationship with a man again. I didn’t want to fear being intimate with someone just because my body had been ravaged. I didn’t want to be a victim. It sucked.

Josh used to be a sniper in the Australian Army, but left to take up security work with URG. He was exceptionally buff (from many hours spent in the gym), and his entire body was covered in tattoos. Rather than look ‘dirty’ and horrid, his tattoos were quite artistic yet menacing. It was not a serious union, and I knew I would never find lasting love with him. We were complete opposites. I was straight as an arrow, and he was, well, bent. But he filled a deep void that was in my soul. He knew of my attack, and often we’d talk about how our relationship was ‘therapy’. He helped me to win back confidence in my body and myself, without getting too seriously attached. He provided light-hearted conversation and we’d lie in bed for hours just listening to music. Flings aren’t always for the best, but our relationship certainly helped me to heal from within.

By the time our affair ended, I was able to sleep with the light off. My nightmares stopped, and I was filled with a renewed sense of self-worth. Several of my friends, and other people I knew, offered to ‘do a job’ on Wingnut. The offer was tempting, don’t get me wrong, but it wouldn’t change what had happened. Retribution would come to him eventually. That’s how karma works. When it hit him, I hoped it would hit him hard.

The rest of my time Iraq sailed by. On one of my last nights there, Skippy came over and invited me to a barbecue. I didn’t want to go. In fact, I had declined every offer he made after I was raped. I didn’t want to socialise or talk to people; I just wanted to be by myself. But he was far too convincing this time. It was my second-last night in Iraq and he told me I was duty-bound to attend. Skippy said they were going to light a small bonfire and just have a few quiet drinks – and that he’d be cooking those fabulous steaks he was renowned for. How could I resist?

I arrived at the barbecue very late. I really wasn’t in the mood for it, but it would have been rude of me not to turn up. There were only a couple of people left by the time I arrived. Skippy grabbed me a beer, and I sat down in front of the fire. It was nice. Music played in the background, and Skippy began to tell the first of many jokes.

I noticed a guy walking towards us. I just assumed he was another security guy coming over for a few quiet drinks. He was tall, dark and built like Arnold Schwarzenegger. As he walked over, he clocked me sitting in front of the fire. Instantly, I looked away from him. I didn’t want to get drawn into his gaze.

He was just another hot-looking security guy as far as I was concerned. They were a dime a dozen over there. I didn’t want to get to know him. I didn’t want to get involved. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I’d experienced enough in this past year in Iraq to last me a lifetime. I was going home. I just wanted to see my boy again. If I engaged this handsome stranger in conversation, I’d probably fall for him. I didn’t want that to happen. Security guys might be hot, but they’re not very good at steady relationships.

I spent the night trying to avoid him. I wasn’t going to fall for his chiselled good looks and huge muscles. I wasn’t going to lose myself in his deep blue eyes or be caught off guard by his sense of humour. Fate was not going to set me up for failure again. Too often she had wielded her power over me. Tonight I would not let her win.

If I’d listened hard enough, I probably would have heard her laughing at my feeble attempts to avoid Paul. It was his birthday. He had arrived back in the country only to be coerced into attending the barbecue by his mates. He also wasn’t keen on attending, as he was feeling the effects of jet lag. But his mates wouldn’t let him rest. It was his birthday. He had to celebrate.

So he’d also made his way up to the barbecue area, noting the way I quickly looked away from him as he approached. He could sense that I was reserved, but that only sparked his interest in me. He made small talk with his friends, had a few drinks, then, very casually, sidled up to me and introduced himself.

As the night wore on, I began to fall under his spell. I tried to resist him, God knows I did, but it wasn’t to be. Skippy began to get rowdy, and eventually burnt his penis on the fire (don’t ask me how it happened; just know it was a typical Skippy escapade). I told the guys I’d walk over to the trailers so that they could check out Skippy to make sure it was okay. Paul said he’d join me. Skippy had consumed quite a few drinks by then, and I doubted he could feel much pain. I suggested Paul’s mate, Silver Fox, take a look at his penis to make sure he wasn’t badly burnt. I knew what it felt like to burn your private parts; it’s not much fun!

As we walked to the trailers, and I was giggling about Skippy’s situation, Paul suddenly pulled me in close. He wrapped his arms around me, bent his head down to mine, and planted a sweet, soft kiss on my lips. I felt myself melt into his body. He pulled his lips away, and looked deeply into my eyes. My fate was sealed with that kiss. It was the most tender, loving, sensual kiss I’d ever received in my life. We kissed again, more passionately this time. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and drew him close to me. I was in heaven. This was paradise.

Finally, we parted and returned to the group. Skippy was okay and would live to fight another day. Things began to wind down around midnight. Paul walked me to my trailer, kissed me goodnight, and returned to his room. Okay, maybe a little more kissing and talking and holding and sleeping and whatever happened before he left. But I wouldn’t want to kiss and tell!

I met up with Paul the next evening, and we talked for hours. He told me about his life before Iraq, his work and his family life. He was separated from his wife, had two children and came from Perth. As I listened to him talk, I grew fonder and fonder of him. I told him about my life, my son and my dreams. I don’t think I’d ever revealed so much about myself to another person, but Paul made me feel completely comfortable.

I was very upfront with him. I told him I did not want to start anything with him, as I was just about to leave the country. I didn’t want to use him or be used. I was enjoying his company, but I still didn’t know if I could trust him. He understood my reasons, although I could see he was disappointed. Even though I was a little upset myself, I had to protect my heart and my mind. I had made a secret pact with myself before I’d even met him, that if any guy were truly and honestly interested in me, they would go to the effort of making things work. That was the sort of man I’d want in my life.

ON MY LAST DAY IN IRAQ
, Paul sent me a goodbye text message as I left for the Blackwater house. The team there was going to take me and a few other contractors out to the BIAP to catch our flights home. After receiving orders and packing my equipment onto the truck, I positioned myself inside the commander’s armoured vehicle.

The commander’s vehicle was situated second in the convoy. We headed out of the Green Zone, ‘rolling hard, rolling heavy’. I felt completely safe in the commander’s capable hands, but was ready for action nevertheless. We weren’t very far along Route Irish when suddenly an explosion erupted next to our vehicle. Everyone braced themselves.

We were coming off an overpass at the time. The first vehicle made it safely off, but the roadside bomb exploded just as we passed by it. The vehicle shook and swerved to the side. I readied myself for the ensuing small-arms fire, but there was none. The rest of the convoy made it safely off the ramp, and we continued along Route Irish.

After arriving at Baghdad airport safely, we had a quick debrief about the attack. Some thought that the explosion was the US military conducting a ‘controlled detonation’. They were only doing them at certain times, and this bomb hadn’t gone off in that time period. The IED had gone off within 8 metres of our vehicle. The US army certainly wouldn’t detonate a bomb within metres of a passing Blackwater team. But insurgents would.

It was later confirmed that insurgents had indeed attempted to blow us up that day. It was believed that the insurgent IED was faulty or not set up correctly, and so the explosion was not lethal enough to inflict damage on us. Perhaps that’s why it wasn’t followed up with small-arms fire. None of the vehicles was disabled so the enemy would have had to fend off five vehicles with heavy machine-gun fire if they had tried.

Forty-eight hours later, I arrived home to Kane and embraced him in my arms. I felt normal. I felt good. I felt all the ravages of war seeping out of my mind. I was back with my little boy, and I was going to give him a holiday he’d never forget. I was going to give Bruce, Pamela and all their family a holiday they’d never forget. Three weeks later, we all left for the Gold Coast.

IN LATE DECEMBER
, I paid for everyone to fly to the Gold Coast for a theme-park holiday. We swam with the dolphins, went down the waterslides and shopped at all the big centres. We ate at restaurants, went sightseeing and bonded as an ‘extended family’. It was a fabulous holiday. It was money well spent. I know Kane and I had a great time, and I’m sure Bruce’s family did too.

In return, Bruce invited me to his brother’s house, located a few hours from Canberra. We were going to spend the New Year’s holiday with them. It was while I was there that I found myself thinking about Paul. I had not sent him many emails, as I’d been busy with my family. The emails I had sent him were light-hearted and impersonal. I woke up on New Year’s morning thinking that I would make the first step to see if Paul really wanted to pursue things with me. It had been at least a couple of weeks since we last wrote to each other.

When we returned to Canberra, I logged onto my computer, not really knowing what I would write to Paul. As it turned out, there was an email waiting for me from him. It was as if he had read my thoughts and knew exactly what I wanted from him. I wrote him a long letter back, and, from there, things steadily progressed.

While on holidays, I managed to break my little toe. I broke it right off the bone and was forced to hobble around on crutches for the next couple of weeks. I didn’t let it stop me from buying a little townhouse in Canberra, though. I had made enough money to pay a 20 per cent deposit, stamp duty and all the other associated fees for a new house. It was in the same suburb as Bruce’s house, and wasn’t far from Kane’s school. There was some fighting between Bruce and me about where Kane would live. I thought things might degrade between the two of us again. Luckily, we were able to talk through our issues, and finally settle on arrangements for Kane’s care.

Kane would live with both of us. He’d spend a week at his dad’s, and then a week with me. He would alternate between our two homes. This routine worked well. My relationship with Bruce and Pamela was going on strong, so Kane’s welfare was not disrupted. I’d invite Bruce and Pamela over for dinner parties, and I would go over to their house for coffee, a chat, or just to say hello. Things were brilliant between us all.

I told Bruce that I would probably do one more rotation in Iraq, to acquire a good sum to have as savings in the bank, before finally settling down into a normal job. I was keen to meet up with Paul as well. I wanted to see where things were headed with him. I was excited yet nervous about returning. What would this rotation hold for me?

It turned out to be the ‘love rotation’. I returned to Iraq’s Green Zone. This time I was responsible for looking after two female clients from the former Yugoslavia, and they were great. They always gave me notice if they needed to go somewhere. They often went the gym so I was able to go with them and get regular exercise myself. They hardly ever went out partying, which meant I didn’t have to stay up late, waiting to pick them up.

They were courteous and pleasant and loved to chat to me about the ‘hot security guys’ they were interested in. I couldn’t have asked for better clients! My love-life took a radical step. Paul swept me off my feet and they still haven’t touched the ground. Every night we’d stay up talking about anything and everything. With no TV or other distractions, the time we spent together was filled with getting to know each other and talking about our dreams for the future.

We spoke about the heartache, the pain and all the crap we’d endured during lives, and we laughed about the funny, happy and joyous moments. I felt like I had met a male version of myself. He understood everything I said, and I understood him too. We were different, yet we were connected. Then one night, Paul told me loved me and said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. I was over the moon. I was determined not to say the L-word before he did. I melted as soon as he said it. I knew I was in love with him as well, and, two nights later, I also professed my love to him.

Our first intimate night together felt like heaven. It was how I’d dreamed my wedding night would be. I was shy and nervous, but I was also filled with excitement. When we came together at night, we were like one body fused together. The passion and the love flowed through our veins. We were completely and utterly in love. My life had new meaning because I knew I was going to spend the rest of it with him.

By day, we were high-speed, high-powered security contractors, and by night we were lovers and friends. Even now I smile as I remember the times we furiously threw our webbing, body armour, rifles and pistols into a heap on the floor in a pique of mad passion. It was like a scene out of a movie. We just wanted to be intimate and close with each other. We were crazy for each other, like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

For the first couple of weeks I was back in the country, there was a problem with my ID card. It had expired. Unfortunately, it took time to get a new one issued, and that meant I couldn’t do my job or get paid. There I was, technically having a holiday in Iraq. I couldn’t eat in any of the food halls or go anywhere in the Green Zone. I was on lockdown. Paul brought me food every day and made sure I had everything I could possibly need.

Was it wise to make plans to spend the rest of my life with Paul while living in the boiling cauldron of war and insurgency? Maybe. Maybe not. But doubt and indecision weren’t going to stop me from trying. Paul was from Perth and I was from Canberra. All of Paul’s family, friends and his children were in Perth. My family were scattered all around Australia, as were my friends. After I’d thought about it for a long time, it seemed to make more sense for Kane and I to move to Perth than the other way around.

I left Iraq for the final time and tentatively broached the subject with Bruce about moving to Perth. As I expected, Bruce wasn’t happy. He didn’t want Kane to leave with me. I tried to negotiate every possible option for sharing Kane’s care, but Bruce wasn’t interested in making any deals. I suggested every option from Kane’s spending two years with Bruce and two years with me, to letting Kane decide for himself. It was like talking to a wall: Bruce wasn’t interested in talking about it at all.

I guess that is what hurt the most. That we’d worked hard to build up a friendship, and, in the end, it counted for nothing. There was to be no discussion. It was either his way or we’d go to court. Bruce wrote an affidavit against me. Everything I’d ever said and done was turned and used against me. I understood why he was doing it – he didn’t want to lose his little boy – but it didn’t make the situation any better.

I couldn’t bring myself to write an affidavit against him. I had experienced far too much in life to sink to that sort of tit-for-tat level. I couldn’t let things continue the way they were, either. With his parents’ relationship at a new low point, Kane was beginning to feel the effects. I hated seeing Kane having to deal with an ongoing war between Bruce and me; I knew I had to end his pain. I told Bruce that I would go to Perth, and Kane could stay in Canberra with him. The current family laws would not have allowed me to remove Kane from the state without Bruce’s consent. He was never going to give it.

I couldn’t stay in Canberra and contribute to Kane’s pain. I couldn’t let him continue to go through that hell. I loved him too much. It killed me inside, but I had to leave in order for him to heal. If I had stayed, his behaviour probably would have worsened. I felt utterly betrayed by Bruce. First he broke my heart, and then he took my son from me.

To make things worse, I was informed by the US Justice Department that Wingnut was going to get away with his crime. There wasn’t enough evidence to convict him, and they had to drop the charges. He alleged that I consented to having sex with him that night. “How could I consent?” I told the solicitor. “I was passed out on my bed. What is consensual about that?” She empathised with me, but as no blood alcohol test was conducted on me, it was hard to prove. I told her I didn’t care how much I was grilled on the witness stand, I wanted my day in court. I didn’t want him to go free without a fight.

The choice was not mine. The Justice Department gets to decide whether you can take a complaint to court. I was not even given the chance to tell the world what he had done to me. He had done it three times before. Unfortunately, none of the other cases made it to court either. The first woman ‘disappeared’, the second one dropped the charges, and the third could not get enough evidence against him. The attacks had taken place under similar circumstances. He was an opportunistic, serial rapist and he was getting away with violating women. Who else would he hurt in the years to come?

There was nothing I could do about the situation. While my wounds had healed, nothing could ever wipe away the memory he left with me. God help him if I ever saw his face again. The ugly troll was safe to go back to his wife and four children: none of them the wiser, none of them ever knowing the truth.

Over the next few months, Paul was with me. I spoke to him every night, discussing the good and the bad things going on in our lives. He was still working in Iraq so we communicated via emails and phone calls. He helped me to deal with the pain, and forge a positive future. My experience had taught me that if you were upset or depressed, you had to do whatever it took to get yourself out of that situation. For me, that meant leaving my son with his father. In late January 2007, I organised my move to Perth.

Then, out of the blue, I received an email from Bruce. I read it. Then I re-read it. My head went all dizzy. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. To cut a long story short, his marriage was over and he was going to let me take Kane to Perth. I couldn’t believe it! He was letting me take Kane. I cried tears of joy.

Oh my God! Bruce was going to let me take Kane.
I had endured a druggie boyfriend, and had made it through the most demanding training institution in Australia. I’d had my heart broken, had it cut to pieces and then found strength in a new career. Little did I know that the career would lead to danger and death. My life became tarnished through my association with bad boys and their lust for sex, drugs, alcohol and guns. Then to almost lose my son in a custody battle, it was almost too much to bear.

Now I was going to move to Perth to live with the man of my dreams. My son was going to be right by my side. No more travel. No more guns. No more fighting. I was going to have a quiet life. I was going to live in a suburb surrounded by golf courses and beaches, with normal, beautiful, friendly people. My dreams were finally coming true.