Sixteen hours travelling on a Royal Air Force McDonnell Douglas DC-10 from RAF Brize Norton, Oxfordshire, to Belize, Central America, was immensely wearying and decidedly uneventful. The only mild excitement was a two-hour wait on the runway at Washington D.C. Dulles International Airport. while the plane refuelled; even then, excitement quickly turned to disappointment when passengers were asked to remain airside, thus avoiding customs controls, and were unable to leave the confines of the aircraft.
Later, as the ageing DC-10 crosses over the Guanahacabibes Peninsula on the western tip of Cuba and approaches Guatemalan airspace, a sense of elation spreads throughout the cabin as two Hawker Siddeley Harrier fighter aircraft gracefully appear, as if from nowhere, and join the flight path. Both jump jets engage in a defensive position on each side of the DC-10, intending to escort the aeroplane to its destination, Belize International Airport. At the same time, sending a clear message of the impressive capability to any foreign power that may seek to disrupt the passenger flight while demonstrating the resolute and dominating superiority and presence of the British Armed Forces in the Caribbean.
Following the safe landing of the DC-10, passengers disembarked. Most stretched weakened and inactive muscles as they began the long walk across the vast, sun-bleached runway toward a large corrugated customs control building. For some who had never experienced a tropical country, the smell of rotten vegetation, moisture, soil, decaying plants and wood was almost repulsive and unbearable.
Having left the comfortable eighteen degrees of the air-conditioned aircraft cabin, many felt distressfully hot as the blazing midday sun beamed relentlessly down on them. Their clothes dampened as beads of sweat gathered and spread across their bodies, streaking down their faces. Eventually, they formed an orderly queue before an old Formica table. In their cotton shirts soaked in sweat, Belizean customs officers made cursory checks of each passport. The officers then directed the passengers into the arrivals building, where their personal luggage, already removed from the DC-10, was neatly stacked in the centre of the terminal floor. Then, after identifying their belongings, the arrivals were guided to an old American Phoenix Eagle coach, which would transport them to Airport Camp in Ladyville, where they would begin their operational tour of duty for the following six months.
The coach stopped outside a huge Nissen hut building surrounded by barbed wire and anti-
climb spike fencing. The group had arrived at Airport Camp, the headquarters of the British Forces in Belize. They alighted from the coach and observed armed security patrols pulling on the leashes of ferocious war dogs, curiously staring at them. Then they quickly entered through the door and into the cool room, desperate to limit their exposure to the ruthlessly blazing sun. Several soldiers, both male and female, wearing jungle fatigues, sat on the last row of benches in the briefing room and stared at the batch of newcomers to Belize, whom they referred to as' Moonies'.
Four men stood beside a large oscillating fan and a flip chart: one wearing the rank of Brigadier, another the Regimental Sergeant Major, the third a Sergeant with the distinctive cypress green beret of the Intelligence Corps folded into his shoulder epaulette, and the fourth, a civilian, wearing a white lab coat with a stethoscope draped around his neck. The arriving group shuffled into the first two rows of benches, intentionally crowding the area directly in front of the fan. Then, suddenly startled, the sergeant major shouted, ' Atten-shun,' causing the audience to quickly sit upright. They pulled their shoulders back, pushing their chests forward while straightening their arms. Clenched fists placed firmly on each knee, the audience waited for the presentation to begin.
The Brigadier was the first to speak, in a clipped tone, saying, 'Stand easy,' and waiting
for the congregation to relax, then introduced himself as the commanding officer and welcomed them to Belize. He informed them the country could very quickly reduce to a state of war without the presence of the British Forces and gave a stern warning regarding anything that could harm the reputation of the British Forces in the Caribbean and how soldiers were to be conscious of their appearance and behaviour in the presence of civilians. He ended his speech by informing them that 'other ranks' were not allowed to use the camp swimming pool from 10 am to 4 pm each day, as it was reserved only for officers and their families. With that, he walked towards the exit as the sergeant major enforced the 'sitting to attention' routine for a second time.
The sergeant major ordered the group to relax and informed them discipline was his business. They would conform to all military rules for the following six months or 'experience his wrath. ' Then he nodded towards the Sergeant, who excitedly removed the flip chart cover, revealing a map of the Caribbean, the word ‘SECRET’ in red ink at the top and bottom of the chart, and focusing on Belize and its location to Guatemala. The sergeant tapped his finger on the area of Guatemala and explained that they were there because Guatemala continually claimed that Belize was the legacy of the Spanish Empire's Guatemalan territories. He said that Guatemala would continue to threaten tension and had mobilised its troops along the Belizean border, threatening invasion. There was silence in the room as he continued tapping on various locations on the map.
He explained that they could be deployed to headquarters to support the Harrier jets,
the Puma support helicopter, the Rapier air defence or the communications centre, catering or logistics or perhaps one of the many forward deployment locations deep in the sweltering and unforgivable jungle, supporting the 105mm artillery guns and Rapier at Holdfast Camp. Alternatively, they could find themselves on forward jungle patrols or staffing the Cayo OP observation post, searching for cross-border approaches from the Guatemalan border town of Ciudad Milchor de Mencos or Cadenas OP and approaches from Puerto Modesta across the Sarstoon River.
Patrolling would be in some of the world's most remote, sweltering, and almost impenetrable jungles. Insertion and extraction would be supported by helicopters and riverboats. However, due to frequent operational sensitivities, some extractions had to take place on foot for many miles through the inhospitable jungle. He explained that some might find themselves deployed to the solitude and wilderness of Cooma Cairn Mountain, working with high-security-cleared personnel to provide communication and rebroadcast support between Belize headquarters, forward patrols, and Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ).
The intelligence sergeant added that if, for a second, they thought they had come to the Caribbean to enjoy a holiday, they were tragically mistaken. Belize was an operational tour of duty and should Guatemalan forces decide to cross the border, all hell would be unleashed and the British would be plunged into terrifying jungle warfare not too dissimilar from that of the Americans fighting in Vietnam. He explained that following the briefing, they were to identify themselves by their name, rank, number and unit to the administration officers at the rear of the room, who would inform them of their operational deployment for the duration of their service to Belize. Then added that they would need to read, understand and sign the Official Secrets Act and the rules on engagement. Following that, they would be escorted to the quartermaster's stores and armoury to be issued with jungle uniforms and weapons according to their role and deployment.
The briefing ended in a deafening silence and as the sergeant began to cover the chart, the man in the lab coat broke the silence and spoke. He introduced himself as the camp doctor and started by providing details of the dangers of the many creatures that lived in the jungle. He explained that they did not recognise barriers and could easily find their way around the camp. He described the dangers of snakes, including the fer-de-lance, Mayan coral snake, and neotropical rattlesnake. Then there were the brown recluse and black widow spiders and the bullet or fire ant. He warned of being bitten by a vampire bat or the probability of a botfly laying its parasitical larvae beneath the surface of the skin. The larvae would be seen and felt moving around for weeks, only revealing themselves by eating their way out.
Finally, he explained that a few hundred yards from Airport Camp was a brothel called Raul's Rose Garden. Following negotiations, he had persuaded the owner to agree to allow the girls to receive monthly free sexually transmitted disease (STD) tests at the British Forces Medical Centre. The doctor further said that every male soldier would also submit to a mandatory STD test six weeks before the end of their deployment, regardless of whether they used the brothel. They would be tested for diseases such as gonorrhoea, herpes, HIV, and syphilis, and the results would be given to them before they returned home to their wives, partners, and girlfriends.
The briefing was over, and as the presenters marched from the room, the group hesitantly began to stand. Then, reluctantly, they shuffled dolefully towards the administrative officers at the rear of the room, their minds thinking about the fate that awaited them for the next six months of deployment.
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