Lying in the dust of Helmand Province, Lance Corporal Martyn Compton thought he was taking his last breath. His armoured vehicle had been ripped apart by a roadside IED, then rocket-propelled grenades turned it into an inferno. Engulfed in flames, as he crawled for cover, he was shot in the right leg twice, shattering his femur.
This weekend, it’s the 20th anniversary of the devastating ambush that left the Household Cavalry soldier with burns to 75 per cent of his body. Yet, as his son, Archie, approaches his 16th birthday in November – Martyn’s age when he joined-up – he says he’ll support him if he wants to become a soldier.
Martyn says: “People expect me to say I’d do everything I could to stop Archie joining the Army. That’s honestly not how I feel. Of course I’d be terrified. I know exactly what can happen. I’ve lived through the worst. I’ve seen the true horror of war. I also know what the Army gave me. It gave me confidence, discipline, lifelong friends and opportunities I’d never have had anywhere else.”
He continues: “It gave me an inner self belief and resilience that gave me the fight to stay alive. For that reason, if Archie came to me tomorrow and said, ‘Dad, I want to join the Army,’ I’d tell him I support him. Of course I’d worry. But I’d also be incredibly proud of him.”
Martyn believes too many young people are growing up without direction. He says: “We’ve got a generation who feel a bit lost. The defence of our nation and patriotism are dwindling, which is tough to watch when you’ve served your country. One million young people who’re not in employment, education or training.
“I worry about this generation and what the future holds for them. It’s created a nation that feels divided. There seems to be less care and respect for one another and less direction. I hope this new Government will take more steps for them. Because of this, I support National Service, including for my own children. Many countries around the world do it. Why can’t we? Some form of National Service would give you purpose. It teaches teamwork, respect and responsibility. Those lessons stay with you long after you’ve taken the uniform off.”
On August 1, 2006, Martyn’s regiment was travelling in convoy in small tanks, heading to support Danish forces in Helmand Province. The lead vehicle crossed a narrow bridge safely. As Martyn’s vehicle followed, gunfire erupted. He says: “The bullets started smashing into the vehicle. As I reversed, an IED exploded and ripped our Spartan vehicle apart. Every man travelling with me lost their life. I was the sole survivor.”
Leaving him no time to think, insurgents fired rocket-propelled grenades. Martyn says: “One hit the deck. One hit the engine. Suddenly, I was completely engulfed in flames. My adrenaline kicked in. Pure instinct to survive took over. I could smell burning, but didn’t even register it was my own flesh. The pain hadn’t kicked in. My one thought was ‘I must get out of here.’”
Dragging himself from the burning vehicle, he rolled across the sand to extinguish the flames. He says: “The heat was unbelievable. I just knew I had to put the flames out.” Still under heavy enemy fire, he crawled towards cover, saying: “As I reached a wall I was shot twice in my right leg.
“My strongest memory isn’t the pain, it was thinking, ‘that’s it. I’m not going home.’ Then everything stopped hurting. I genuinely believed I was slipping away.” He survived because fellow soldiers Andrew Radford and Mick Flynn repeatedly exposed themselves to enemy fire to reach him. Martyn, 42, of Hastings, East Sussex, says: “They did the bravest thing I’ve ever seen. They fought through enemy fire to get to me. They risked their own lives to save mine. “
In the ensuing 20 years Martyn’s had more than 500 painful skin grafts, reconstructive surgery and rehabilitation. In his most recent operation last year, surgeons operated on one of his eyes. Scars cover most of his body, but he says: “I’ve got used to living with them. People still stare at me sometimes in the street, or when they first meet me. I can still feel awkward and self-conscious. But my scars don’t define me – my amazing family does.”
Finally when home, looking unrecognisable, Martyn had a frank conversation with his then girlfriend, Michelle. He says: “I told her I’d understand if she wanted to leave.” Instead, they’ve just celebrated their 18th wedding anniversary with their children, Archie, 15, and Coral, 14, and their dog Lola, four. He says: “Michelle has been beside me through every operation, every setback and every bad day. Even in the darkest moments, there is light.This experience taught me what real love is. She’s walked every step of this journey with me.”
Another source of support has been Prince William, who he met while he was in hospital recovering in 2007. His champion ever since, Martyn says: “Prince William was serving in my regiment when I returned injured from Afghanistan. I was still in a wheelchair when he came to see me, privately. He stopped by one day and simply said, ‘If you ever need anything, let me know’. He’s been true to his word ever since.”
Military duties meant William couldn’t attend Martyn and Michelle’s wedding in July 2008, but he sent a personal message wishing them every happiness. Years later, they were invited to William’s wedding to Catherine at London’s Westminster Abbey on April 29, 2011. Martyn says: “He spotted me in the Abbey straight away. Michelle and me were sat in front of the Beckhams and opposite Elton John. As Prince William walked down to take his place at the altar, we were the first ones he spoke to. He grinned and said ‘hello Compo, how are you doing?’ It was a surreal moment, to sit with all these famous people around me. That’s the sort of man he is.”
Despite the decades of pain and endless operations Martyn has enjoyed some amazing experiences – including being photographed by rockstar Bryan Adams. He says: “I remember being asked to pose for Bryan, he had a converted warehouse on the Thames. Archie was just a baby and ,as we walked in ,there was a guy making a cup of tea. I didn’t think much of it and I said, ‘can I just pop in here and change Archie’s nappy? He said ‘yes of course’. Then Michelle said, ‘that’s Bryan Adams.’ His photoshoot with me ended up in the National Portrait Gallery.”
Still living with PTSD, Martyn admits: “I still get nightmares. But I’ve learned how to cope. “Veterans’ charities, especially Pilgrim Bandits, have been a lifeline. They are a small amazing charity who helped me massively and they are making a difference to the lives of injured veterans. They understand what we’ve all been through.”
And he’s about to take on a challenge for Pilgrim Bandits, to raise money for struggling veterans. He says: “I am going to travel through the jungle of Vietnam with other injured veterans. For me, to share some camaraderie with others who have faced hell, is cathartic.” Every August 1, Martyn raises a glass to the men who never made it home. He says: “You never forget them. For most people Afghanistan is something from the past. For some of us it’s still part of everyday life.”
Reflecting on what an Army career would mean, should Archie choose one, he says: “The scars remind me every day what the Army took from me. But they also remind me what it gave me. So, if Archie chose that life, I’d stand beside him. Not because it would be easy. But because I’d be proud of him. Every time I look in the mirror I’m reminded of that day – but also I’m reminded of how precious life is.”
To donate to Martyn’s venture for other servicemen see: www.justgiving.com/page/martyn-compton
