The Rescuer’s Story
This account from today’s Guardian struck me as the very definition of a “criterion 1” trauma event – meaning maximum, duration, concentration, intensity, intrusiveness. Had you been inside the carriage, and survived, you would be in the most likely category to wind up with post traumatic stress disorder. But not by any means inevitably. Will this fireman suffer from PTSD? It may surprise you to find that – according to US studies of type 1 traumatic events (research at the Rivers Centre, Edinburgh: http://www.riverscentre.org.uk/Main/HomePage) – there is less than a 10% chance that this man will suffer extreme long-lasting effects. This is not to downplay the severity of what he has experienced, nor to be complacent about what it means for anyone who does witness this degree of horror and suffer long-term psychological damage as a result. It is a reminder that, even when things get this bad, most people have mechanisms for coping. If you focus the camera in on this, don’t forget to pull it back afterwards, and remind yourself that while this is hell, it does not mean that the world is hell.
Most Londoners will not be in any way traumatised by what has happened. How bad does it have to get before most people feel the effects intimately? My uninformed guess is to take an example from the Roman army. The term ‘decimation’ comes from the technique of killing one man in 10 to restore discipline. Presumably even the Romans did not kill soldiers unecessarily. But they found that they could send shock waves through an entire century of men in the army if they killed 10 (one assumes that 9 is inadequate and 11 excessive). Thus, I would guess, once more than 1 million Londoners have been directly affected by a terrorist attack, then the whole city will be in psychological jeopardy, so to speak. Nevertheless, read this account. It is a reminder of how bad things can get at the epicentre of an event. And this man gives his view of it with honourable directness.
Sergeant Steve Betts of the British Transport police was one of the first rescuers to reach the Piccadilly line train between King’s Cross and Russell Square on Thursday. This is his account:
It was pitch black and we had torches. The tunnel where the train was was about 150 metres down the track round a corner and there were still a few wounded coming towards us as we approached. As I walked down the track, I heard someone cry out for help but I could not see them. I called out back and looked around but it was very smoky and dusty and they did not answer.
I got into the train and it was quite obvious that this was something horrendous. There were people with limbs missing, huge open wounds with their organs showing and people were crying out and moaning and asking for help.
I thought, this is the worst thing I have ever seen. I am not very good in enclosed spaces at the best of times and we had to climb over bodies and body parts to try to help people and see who was still alive. I thought this is the end of the world, right here in this carriage, but you have to do your job.
I found a man and his leg had been blown off below the knee, there was another body next to him. There was also what I thought was a pile of clothes but as I passed to try and get to the man, it moaned and asked me for help. It was a woman. She had all her limbs blown off. I think she died on the concourse.
We had not yet got into the carriage where the bomb had exploded but we had to get in there to make sure no one else was alive. That was a scene I cannot describe.
The roof had collapsed and we had to almost crawl in. There were body parts everywhere, there was not one bit as far as I could see that was not covered with organs or blood or bits of body. I was squashed in by chairs and dead bodies as we searched for anyone alive. I could not help standing on things but I had to carry on and do my job. It was like collecting a lot of shop dummies and then cutting them up, pouring black paint over them, and filling the carriage.
After a couple of hours, I came up. The station was pretty quiet by now but someone asked me for directions which made me smile and that made me feel more human. But, as I stood there I felt lonelier than I thought was possible, I just wanted to see a friend or somebody new and give them a hug.
