Lance Sergeant
Nathan Cumberland
I served for ten years in The Grenadier Guards, and I did three tours in Afghanistan. My first tour there was in 2006, my second was in 2007, and my third tour, which is when I got injured, was in October 2009. My injuries, which I sustained on 28th October, resulted in the loss of both my legs, my right one above the knee and my left one below the knee.
My role in Afghanistan was a recce Commander. I was in charge of a Section which would get sent out before the main force to survey the area and make sure there were no Taliban in the vicinity, as well as making sure the route was clear for the main body of men. We’d go to a certain area, take over a compound, and stay there for two or three weeks. We wanted to get a feel for what daily life was like—see what the villagers are like, note if there is activity in the morning or at night, just trying to collect as much information as possible. We were based in Sangin, which is a small area but quite a rough one. A lot of guys have been killed or injured there. We were sent there to give protection to forces while they were building a bridge for the Afghan people to use.
The day I was injured, I’d just arrived back from a routine patrol. Then some engineers came into our compound and asked for some guys to give them some fire support, in case they got contacted. My lads were already kitted up, so I said we’d go. We try not to use the main roads because of the risk of IEDs, so I told my men to go through a cornfield. My front guy, who was checking the ground was clear, stepped over the IED, and then I stepped on it. Bang, next thing I know, I’m doing somersaults in the air.
After the explosion, I had a lot of ringing in my ears and the dust was everywhere. I thought originally that my front man was the one who was injured, not me. But as the dust settled, I realised I was sitting in a crater. That’s when I realised there was blood everywhere and my left leg was missing. The leg was sitting upright in the field, I could see it a couple of metres away. My right leg looked like it had been steamrolled over, it was just mush. It was being held on by bits of tissue and muscle, veins and tendons. I thought I was going to die as I was losing a lot of blood.
Literally within a minute or so we got contacted by the Taliban. They were shooting everywhere. As I put tourniquets on both my legs, I was telling the guys—I had a young Section at the time—to get rounds down and to bring a medic forward.
Everything happens so quickly. Within three or four minutes the guys were on me, stopping the bleeding and giving me morphine. One guy was on the radio getting a medical team in. To me, it was like everything was in slow motion and that time felt like hours, but it was literally a matter of minutes. The Taliban were still shooting everywhere, all round the ground. Then the medic got to me, and started fixing me up properly.
Within fifteen minutes, I was on a helicopter and I was given ketamine, which knocked me straight out. Within half an hour I was in the operating theatre back at Bastion. It’s incredibly fast – in 2006 or 2007, it would have taken over an hour to get a guy on an operating table. I was at Bastion for about a day and a half and then I got transferred to Selly Oak Hospital. I then had another twelve or thirteen operations to clean up the stumps. That’s the main issue—it’s not really the blast, it’s the infection risk afterwards. It sets in straight away if you don’t catch it.
I was at Selly Oak for about three or four weeks. I remember I just wanted to get out and start rehab, I wanted to get walking. I had Christmas off with my girlfriend—now my wife—and then I started at Headley Court. I was there for four or five weeks at a time. They do put you through your paces, so it was really tiring. My main goal was to walk down the aisle at my wedding, and I concentrated on that for a year.
Being in the same boat as the other lads at Headley really helped. The injuries vary, but everyone is included in that military banter. They always say, “If you’ve got one leg missing, you’re not really injured. If it’s below the knee, it’s just a scratch really.” That’s how it is and that’s how it’s always been in the Army. You have that kind of mentality. You’ve just got to get on with things, you don’t feel sorry for yourself, and that’s the way it’s done. I think that mentality develops through training and because you go through so much stuff with the lads. When you’re on tour, you’re with the same blokes for six months straight, whether you’re going for a shower or getting shot at. Even if I don’t speak to the guys for a while, as soon as I see them again, it’s like we’ve not been apart. You have that closeness. I know that if I needed someone, I’d ring someone I used to be in the Army with.
I accepted that I wasn’t going to be in the Army any more pretty much straight away after I was injured. I’ve left the Army now, and I buy and let properties—I invested all of my compensation into houses. Me and my wife have got a little boy too. I’ve had 21 operations in total, and thankfully have no more scheduled for the near future. That’s quite lucky really, as the guys who got injured at the same time as me are still going through operations.
Day to day, it’s the little things that I get annoyed about. You go from being able to do everything to struggling with small things. I know that I won’t be able to play football with my son. I won’t be able to go to the park and go on climbing frames, and things like that. It’s not really the big things—I’ve cycled round Europe, I’ve gone diving in Thailand and things like that, but it’s the small things I can get bothered about. But I just try and get on with it.
I think face to face people don’t regard me differently, but maybe behind doors they do. I’ve lost touch with a couple of my supposedly close friends. I’m quite stubborn and I just want to power forward with my life now. I think they think that’s a bit smug, but it’s just the way I am. I think people might think, “Well, he’s not doing too badly for himself, is he? He’s got this and he’s got that.” But it’s not like that at all. I’d give it all up in a heartbeat, I’d live in a caravan for the rest of my life if I could get my legs back. But I can’t, so I have to make the best of what I’ve got. I just want to get on with things. I want to do things that I never thought possible. It’s all for my son and for my wife, that’s who I do it for.