Being Born in North of England near the End of the Troubles with the Irish I had seen a lot of conflict as a young boy and man. Growing up in Carlisle bomb scares were a daily thing to be seen sometime my self and friends were caught up in them when shopping in the city centre. I was an average student at school , never in trouble in or out of School but it just wasn’t for me so I left school at 16 and went to college in Glasgow with a view to study computer science but near the end of the course he decided to drop out and persued a new career as a Royal Marine. After spending 32 weeks at Hamworthy Camp in Dorset I finished all the training and passed out as a Royal Marine Commando. The proudest day of my life. The feeling of being awarded my Green beret was second to none. After my pass out the war in Afghanistan had reached new heights with many areas previously liberated being under the rule of the warlords again. I was sent there almost immediately after a brief climitisation sting on Cyprus. I was Based in Helmand province on and off for several years. After my 3rd deployment I was on leave for a month and bought my own house, with a tone of debt! It was a good month with plenty of R and R and one too many women! But sadly it had to come to an end. I was posted to joing the 1 Battalion Rifles Gurkah regiment and joined over 200 from their regiment and another 40 from my own aboard the HMS Indefatigable .Our tasking was to patrol around the Black Sea in case any issues arose from the migrant situation near Turkey. The Riussians were pushing their luck as usual and rubbing NATO up the wrong way as usual by posting their own troops to the area. Some say they were arming small militia as they passed through to cause civil unrest in the west. It wasn’t long before the nearby country of Cherarus had come under some kind of emergency but no-one was to enter to help. Only a few UN Helicopters were sent to help drop supplies and civilian aid workers. No troops. I was one of the lucky ones, at the time, who was sent as a PMC ‘Private Military Company’ to protect the helicopters as the went in and out of the refugee camps with aid. Although it was pretty obvious it was British military led. The Russians were doing the same. The only way to find out what was going on in there. It was while doing these runs that I met a good bunch of guys who had volunteered their time to help others in the camps. The were all from the UK with different backgrounds. Mike was a bit of a muppet at times and often got us all into trouble. A likeable guy when he wasn’t plotting hair brained schemes for adventure. Chris was a rescue pilot from Scotland. He was a normal kind of guy. Just wanted to care for others and fly. That was all he talked about really. BT was a loney kind of guy. Happy in his own skin but craved the group. He didn’t like going it alone. Despite being endlessly annoyed at Mike’s schemes and the issues he got us all into. Pat I got on with well. He had served with the 2nd Yorkshire regiment when the Afghanistan conflict had kicked off in 2001. He had seen some horrific things and never really came to terms with it. He was desperate to do something that would help people and not just take from them as conflict was only capable of. And then there was me. I would spend chuncks of time with them and became close friends to them all. I craved getting off the ship and back to the lads. Happy times. We called ourselves ‘The Wolf Pack’ and we vowed to always run together’. Sadly I was not with them when it all happened. I was sent to an area deeper in Chernarus than I had gone before to set up a forward operating base for the next push of air supplies to the interior communities. We went to Synistok and set up there with no outside help from the military. We heard over the radios that all hell had broken loose and ‘things’ had attacked the refugees. Thousands of refugees were now on the move in all direction trying to get away from whatever it was that was killing so many. We were over run and civil disorder took over. So myself and the others posted with me decided to go it alone and survive as a small group away from the others. Our team went from some 20 men down to four of us aand then in the miuddle of the night we were over run by a hoard that came rampaging through our camp in the woods. I ran. I couldn’t do anything but run. I was scared. So I ran for my life. I had a rough idea where Mike and the others werer when it all happened so I headed that way. Desperately trying to find them and get the wolf pack together again. It was my only hope for survival. Its been several months now. I’ve lost count to be honest but I think I’m almost there.