Roskov book 7, p.5
Roskov, Book 7, page 5
‘There I found a teenage girl as she got out of her seat and fell, landing on me, so I moved her outside and onto the wing, and she seemed able to crawl.
‘When I entered the aircraft again her mother was up out of her seat and moving towards me, so I assisted her outside, but she fainted, so I had to drag her and the daughter to the end of the wing, where I just dropped them next to Rolf.
‘Back inside, and I shouted at Carter, my British Government bodyguard, to get up and help me, then I grabbed him and helped him to the door, the idea being that he would help passengers out as I passed them to him.
‘But he was too hurt to do that, so I ended up dragging him along the wing.
‘When I went back in, a man was looking up at me and he had unfastened his seatbelt, he was sat behind the teenage girl, so I dragged him out despite the protesting.’
‘Protesting?’
‘He said something in Swedish, I think about the pain he was in, but I didn’t care.’
‘Didn’t care?’
‘The smell of aviation fuel all around is a powerful motivator, and I knew it would burn, just … just a matter of how many I got off first. So I dragged him along the wing to Rolf.
‘There, Rolf asked me not to go back inside because of the spilt fuel, but I ignored him and started back. I had only made a few steps when the flames shot up on the far side, not on my side of the plane.
‘Wait, that’s not right, Carter was last, the man in blue was before him. Alter what I just said.
‘Then … I … turned and ran as best I could, towards Rolf to grab him, but the explosion blew me through the air. Luckily there was twelve inches of shit black water, and I landed in it, the back of my neck burnt a little.
‘The freezing water woke me, and I found the old lady on fire so I dabbed her with wet hands, and Rolf was next to her, on his knees as well, and we helped her towards the track that we could see.
‘Before that, two forest workers had just run in, and they grabbed passengers, dragging them to the track. They then dragged the old lady and Rolf, and I walked to the track after them.’
‘You could walk?’
‘I could, the tight trouser belt suppressing the pain well enough, but I was feeling like my hips were on fire, shooting pains up and down my back and pins and needles in my leg, so walking was not so easy.
‘The forest workers each grabbed two people and dragged them down the track to the edge of the woods, I grabbed two people, and last was the male passenger in a light blue shirt, a forest worker going back for him as I observed.
‘I then heard the baby crying -’
‘The forest workers stated that the roar from the fire was so loud they had to shout in each other’s ears.’
‘That’s correct, it was very loud, but I heard the baby -’
‘With a damaged left ear…’
‘Yes, and it was the left ear I heard her with. I pointed at where she was to a forest worker, and we could see the nose of the plane, so I thought that passengers had gotten off the plane, the front exits.
‘I moved towards the trees but the forest worker grabbed me, so I elbowed him in the stomach and hit him in the face -’
‘Why, for god’s sake?’
‘I … needed to get to the baby.’
‘A baby that you could not see, but somehow heard…’
‘Don’t ask me how, but I heard her, and I found her in her cot just ten yards from the nose of the aircraft, a note left with her. I grabbed her and the note, then the smoke enveloped us, so I put a hand over her face and walked to the grass, ten yards maybe.
‘There we could breathe, and I walked to the forest workers, who were surprised to see the baby. The forest workers led us down to a gate, a road beyond it, and military ambulances turned up quickly.’
‘Your plane came in low over their parade ground, so they knew you were in trouble.’
‘The rest you know about.’
‘You say that you assisted people off the plane, but the doctors insist that none could walk and most would have been unconscious…’
‘They could walk, and they were not unconscious, and maybe the adrenaline suppressed the pain for a while. My official report … is that I assisted most of them off the plane, not carried them.’
‘The doctors think … that with your injuries you could not have walked, nor carried anyone…’
‘When I tightened my trouser belt it held my hips in place and eased the pain, or we’d not be having this chat. If no one could walk … we’d all have burnt alive.’
‘In these situations, passengers often find the strength to move and they suppress the pain, yes, I’ve seen it before. Not burning to death is a powerful motivator. Just to clarify, as you descended there was no message?’
‘No, I’m pretty sure, but my ear had popped.’
‘You would have remember the message, you did the other two…’
‘I don’t believe there was a message given.’
‘There must have been serious problems on the flight deck not to issue a message,’ he noted. ‘That helps our investigation, and we have the two black boxes. So … you say that the descent was quick, just a minute?’
‘In my estimation, yes.’
‘And the time after levelling off, a minute or two, and still no message?’
‘A minute or two, no message till later, after banking hard.’
‘How you worded it today … is how I would have expected it, a message to the crew then passengers. But you say that he sounded afraid?’
‘He sounded … not like a cool professional, shall we say, he sounded afraid to me.’
‘Any other odd sounds?’
‘No, normal aircraft sounds then silence.’
‘Did the crew move around at all?’
‘No, they were in their seats as we descended and afterwards, they never got out of their seats. Short cheap flight, an hour, no food.’
‘And after the crash there were no crew movements?’
‘None, I was the only one standing.’
‘And no announcements?’
‘No announcements. One airhostess was dead, the others … must have been shaken as she was, and in a stupor.’
‘You were in the centre, and less shaken?’
‘Yes, and most all of the people that looked up at me or released their seatbelts were in the middle, there was no movement forwards or aft.’
‘The sequence in which you took people off, what was your thinking?’
‘I wasn’t thinking, they just happened to be close by or stumbling towards me. I took those in the exit seats first.’
‘Well, what you’ve told us helps a great deal, because now I have to figure out what was going on in the cockpit as you descended. No message is … very odd, it means that systems were failing and that they were fighting the aircraft as they descended, yet they still had control and could choose where to land.’
‘The captain will get a good write-up from me, he did an excellent job. As I said, they were mostly alive after the crash landing.’
‘All alive, yes, but all had hip and spinal injuries…’
‘Something for Boeing to consider in seat design,’ I told them.
‘Well, they don’t design aircraft to hit the trees, but it is something to consider. And I must advise you that even though you dragged the passengers out and thereby saved their lives … the passengers could take you to court for exacerbating their injuries.’
‘That would be an odd day in court,’ I noted.
‘There is a precedent for it, people being pulled from burning cars and suing the paramedic for back injuries.’
‘If they have a case … I’ll hand them some money,’ I suggested.
The embassy guy put in, ‘The media would crucify them, and if Mister Roskov made a public appeal … he’d raise the money to pay off the victims I’m sure.
‘His appeal for funds for the children’s ward here has raised three million Euro in a day – so the doctors tell me.’
‘See if you can get me guardianship of the baby,’ I asked him.
‘You’re not married, and not Italian, so that may be tricky,’ he cautioned.
‘Go to be better than a fucking foster home for her, and I can afford a full time nanny.’
‘I can mention it.’
They thanked me and filed out, leaving me wondering about being sued.
Visitors
My parents arrived half an hour later with a guy from The Sun newspaper that I recognised, and they sat where I could see them, my mother tearful as expected.
‘I’ll be fine, I’ll make a full recovery, and if not I’ll sit behind a desk, so don’t worry,’ I told my mother.
She began, ‘That photo of you with the baby made me cry.’
‘Are you keen for some grandkids already?’ I teased.
‘Well … someday.’
I pointed at the reporter. ‘I don’t want photos of my parents in the media.’
‘I can try, can’t talk for the others. Can we … get an exclusive?’
‘Of course you can, we have a good working relationship. Start by asking what will happen to the baby, because I don’t want her in some shit foster home.’
‘The Pope may decide,’ he quipped.
‘The Pope?’
‘They’re calling her the “miracle baby”, a hundred nuns outside and praying, crowd out there.’
Rita came in with the baby, which was crying as usual, and she placed the chubby lump in front of my face.
‘Hey, Chubby Lump.’
The baby stared at me and examined me as my father suggested that I get a better name for her than “Chubby Lump”.
A hand around the baby and cradling her head, our eyes locked, and she calmed down.
Rita told my parents, ‘The baby will not settle for anyone, only Ricky.’
‘He always was good with babies,’ my mother noted. ‘And teenage girls.’
I faced the reporter as he laughed. ‘Strike that last comment from the record.’
‘Will you make a full recovery?’ he asked.
‘Yes, they don’t think I’ll have problems walking. Has anyone seen Carter?’
Rita told me, ‘He is awake after the operation, yes. We tickled his balls to see if he could feel it.’
The reporter laughed as my parents shot the twins disapproving looks.
‘Strike that from the record as well,’ I told him. ‘But it probably cheered him up.’
‘He’ll be pensioned off?’ the reporter asked.
‘Yeah,’ I sighed out. ‘And he won’t cope well with sitting still and doing very little, but I’ll help him.’
‘Can we see him?’ my mother asked.
‘Tomorrow maybe, give him some time,’ I told her.
Rita informed me, ‘He will have pins like you and father, today some time, then two other passengers. The teenage girl was asking after you.’
‘Is she hurt bad?’
‘No, they say that she had bruises and tendon damage, no broken bones.’
I awkwardly looked down toward my hips and lifted the blanket, and I was black and blue. ‘Ultrasonic hand-massage machine, get one, and start a regular massage on the bruises, it will make them go quicker.’
Rita stepped out to find a doctor as Frieda started to gently massage the bruises.
‘Where’s my phone?’ I ask Frieda.
‘We have it,’ my father answered. ‘And your wallet and bank cards, and your watch.’
‘I’ll need to buy a new suitcase,’ I noted. ‘And some clothes.’
My parents headed off for lunch with the reporter, not much to see here, but I did promise the reporter an interview when I could turn over. Later, the doctor suggested that I should be face down for a few days, but that the graphite pins would prevent any further damage to my hips.
My young age was on my side, I would recover much faster than Rolf, and I knew that most hip pin operations were performed on old ladies that had fallen over, six weeks to recover, six months to walk properly.
The thought of limping for six months sent a chill through me, but Frieda’s massage of my arse had worked wonders for me.
Three hours later I woke, still groggy from the meds, my parents sat there reading magazines and looking bored yet concerned. ‘You may have a long wait,’ I told them. ‘This could take weeks, so don’t hang around too long.’
‘They can move you to the UK, they said, air ambulance,’ my father told me.
‘No, here is fine till I can walk some, or a local villa we can rent. I don’t fancy being strapped into a stretcher on a plane, I want my legs working to get me off the damn thing if it crashes!’
‘The doctors are all puzzled, as to how you carried the passengers off,’ my father told me.
‘I tightened my trouser belt, and that eased the pain. And I was very motivated to get people off the plane.’
‘Swedish TV is suggesting that you’ll be up for an award.’
‘Yeah? Well that will be nice, but that’s a way away, I need to heal some first.’
‘Doctor said it could be weeks before you walk, therapy first, swimming.’
‘Bollocks to that, I can move my feet and legs now, I’ll be walking in a few days – and not at all being a good patient for them.’
‘You take it easy,’ my mother scolded me.
‘I’m young and fit, not like an old lady that has fallen over on a wet pavement, and the pins they put in will stop the fractures moving, just a matter of the bruising and the tendon damage in the lower back.
‘Rolf will take longer, but I should be up and about and getting that therapy soon enough.’
‘There was some bishop outside earlier, and he blessed the baby,’ my father informed me.
‘Stupid Catholic Church thinks that God would sacrifice a plane full of people to save one baby.’
‘That does seem odd, yes, to lose so many people but to rejoice at one baby saved. It was a miracle that the plane never blew up on landing,’ my father noted. ‘And a miracle that you got seven people off.’
‘Was it seven?’ I puzzled.
‘They said seven, plus the baby.’
‘Two men - white shirt and blue shirt, mother and daughter, old lady and Carter, and Rolf.’
‘Seven,’ my father confirmed.
The reporter stepped in, a coffee for my father handed over. ‘You with it?’ he asked me.
‘Yeah, so get your notepad. But first tell me how much money I make for this exclusive.’
‘I’ll have to chat to the Editor.’
‘Got to be worth a pint of beer at least.’
He smiled. ‘At least one pint, yeah.’
When he was sat ready, I gave him the same detail as the air crash investigator, plus my personal perspective, the sounds and the smells, then some detail of my injuries and the time to heal, finally my desire to see that the baby would be looked after and not taken in to care.
Forty minutes later and he had enough detail for a story, a photo taken of my bruises without showing too much of my arse, and off he rushed.
‘Should make some money from them,’ my father complained.
‘The airline will pay out, the insurance, and for my injuries that should be a million quid they think. I’ll recover, but the risk of spinal problems in later life means a big pay out.’
‘Will there be any problems later on?’ he worried.
‘Sore back maybe, we have to wait and see. Hips will be OK with the pins in, and a few months from now they’ll be fused back together and healed. Just a question of a spinal disc being damaged.’
‘And your leg?’
‘Hairline fracture, it will heal in six weeks or less.’
‘You had two hairline fractures as a kid, and it never slowed you down any.’
Claudia stepped in, my parents greeted. She sat where I could see her wonderful face, but the full-view cleavage show was probably not intended. ‘How are you?’ she asked, almost tearful.
‘I’ll make a full recovery, a few weeks,’ I assured her.
‘I start filming in a week,’ she explained.
‘Be strong, and don’t worry about me, I get some rest and a nice bed, and a big pay out.’
‘You are all over the news in Germany, one man had a German fiancé, but … she did not get off the plane.’
I lost my smile. ‘Which man?’
‘Name of Peter, and … she was pregnant.’
My mother put a hand over her mouth.
I studied my mother’s face for a moment. ‘Find out where he was sitting on the plane, then I can remember him.’
‘One seat behind the exit seats.’
‘Ah, young man in a blue shirt I think. He said something to me in Swedish, and it sounded like a complaint. Maybe he said: don’t leave my fiancé behind. But I … did leave her.’
‘Not your fault,’ Claudia insisted. ‘Not your job to get people off, that is the crew.’
‘They were in no state to help anyone, one hostess dead. I think whoever is able to walk … is responsible.’
‘Not in law, not written down,’ Claudia insisted.
I faced my father. ‘What the guy from the crash investigators said … was that passengers could take me to court and claim that I made their injuries worse as I dragged them off the plane.’
‘They would have died otherwise!’
‘But they can still make a claim apparently,’ I told him. ‘And this man sounds pissed off at me.’
Claudia told us, ‘He has a rich father, they interviewed him, married to an Italian woman, house near Lake Como.’
‘So I could be in trouble,’ I noted.
‘Ha, we fight them,’ she insisted.
‘Have you met Olga here?’
‘Yes, at the hotel we are all in. She likes Carter but they were not close. She has already visited him to say hello, but she will not cry at the bed.’
‘Carter will lose his job, so … I may give him a job with us.’
‘He will walk?’ she asked.
‘Yes, but not be fit to fight anyone, no good as a bodyguard.’
‘The twins spoke to Bonza they said, and Michelle in Corsica, and Jenny Patrick. Jenny will visit if she can.’
