McNab Passing out parade 1977This picture was contributed by Ali, thanx!

It shows Andy at Shorncliffe during his passing out parade in 1977.  







On October 8 the Australian soldier David Pearce, was killed by a roadside bomb in southern Afghanistan. He had been in the forces for just 15 months. And now the second Australian was killed in action in Afghanistan in less than three weeks. SAS Sergeant Matthew “Locky” Locke was killed in action in Oruzgan Province. SAS troops revealed they are coming under increased attack by the Taliban’s veteran mountain fighters.

I picked out two articles:

Tributes flow for a man of courage, about Matthew Locke

According to those who served with him, he was “a terrific and absolutely switched-on soldier” and a methodical and precise leader who always placed the safety of his men first. A devoted husband to Lee, and father to their 13-year-old son, he was one of the Special Air Service Regiment’s best – serving in every major operation since East Timor in 2000. “Sergeant Locke’s sacrifice and legacy will endure and he will not be forgotten,”

And this one: Taliban plan to get Diggers

Taliban extremists in Afghanistan are targeting Australian troops, with the elite SAS the prize target. An SAS source told The Daily Telegraph the Taliban were hunting Aussie special forces.

Our sympathy to the families, friends and mates of Matthew Locke and David Pearce, and to all others effected by all the numerous battlezones in this crazy world.  


We can expect a lot of ‘Crossfire’ related articles now, here’s one that has some news.

Ex-SAS man and action author Andy McNab’s latest book is going to be promoted with a short-code that responds with a link to the first chapter of the book, free to your mobile phone – but unlike previous promotions of this type the chapter is also available in spoken form.

The publisher couldn’t confirm if Andy would be reading the text himself, but it seems likely given the popularity of the readings on his website.

So users might find themselves hooked into McNab’s latest thrillfest, Crossfire, by listening to the man himself reading the first chapter – assuming the cost of the download doesn’t bankrupt them first.

Read the full article here

Then there’s The Guardian who explains:

Andy McNab, the former SAS man turned bestselling author, plans to hunt for new readers of his next book via mobile phones.
Posters advertising Crossfire, his latest novel out next month, will invite mobile phone users to request by text the first chapter, to be downloaded in audio or text version to their phones. They can also use the PayPal system to order the print version of the whole book.

McNab’s pursuit of a new readers follows a trial this year when the paperback version of his book Recoil was available to order on mobiles.

Go here for the article in the Guardian


CrossfireTransworld has published the first chapter of “at his electrifying, unputdownable best” Andy McNab’s latest Nick Stone adventure Crossfire. We ‘publish’ it here too as an appetizer, with only a few weeks to go… Enjoy!


Tuesday, 27 February 2007
0015 hrs
North-west of Basra

The noise and heat, gloom and sheer fucking claustrophobia in the back of the Warrior were oppressive enough, but now the armour was suddenly clanging three times a second like the world’s strongest madman was using it for sledgehammer practice. We were taking rounds. It could only mean we were closing in on target.

The engine roared and the tracks screeched over the rock.

The front end dipped hard.

‘Fuck!’ the Scouse driver screamed over the radio net, as he stood on the anchors. ‘There’s a fuck’n’ bastard tank!’

The commander yelled back so loud I had to lift the PRR pad from my ear. ‘Go right, you cunt – you’ll hit the fucker!’ Until a few years ago, the only way troops could communicate with each other was by shouting or hand signals, but every man and his dog now wore a personal role radio. It had revolutionized the infantry. Just four inches by six, with a headset consisting of an ear pad, Velcro strap and little boom mike, PRR acted effectively as a secure chat net between troops.

The Challenger’s thundering growl had come from our left. The tracks squealed and we gripped whatever we could get hold of to stop ourselves being flung from our seats. We took more small-arms fire into the hull, and then there was a much louder bang two feet away from my shoulder.


Rocket-propelled grenades could punch holes in concrete walls. I knew it would just bounce off the skirt of bar armour surrounding us, but I still felt like I was trapped in a locked safe while people on the outside were fucking about with blowtorches and gelignite.

It wasn’t simply that I couldn’t see what was happening. It was having no control that bothered me. I was at the mercy of the driver, the gunner, and the commander in the turret. He was a platoon sergeant called Rhett or Red – I didn’t catch it when we met, and then we got past the point where I could ask again.

Our Warrior was part of the battle group’s recce platoon. Dom, Pete and I were embedded. ‘Entombed, more like,’ Pete said. He’d been a tankie himself once upon a time, and even he didn’t like the lid coming down. We were jammed shoulder to shoulder in the eerie red glow of the night-lights. Rhett’s scuffed and dusty desert boots were level with my face. The gunner was up there on his left, frantically feeding rounds into the 30mm cannon.

The wagon took one final hard right and came to a jarring, gut-wrenching halt. The stern reared up under the momentum, then crashed down like a breaking wave.

‘Dismount! Dismount!’

Rhett’s shout was drowned by the cannon kicking off above us.

Dom got a punch from one of the Kingsmen and hit the button above his head. The rear-door hydraulics whined. I could see stars, hear the roar of gunfire and heavy machinery.

The four recce guys tumbled out into the inky blackness. Pete shoved a hand over his lens and we followed.

My Timberlands slid and twisted on the rubble as I ducked down against the bar armour, gulping fresh but dust-laden air. Oil wells blazed out of control on the horizon. Gases and crude were being forced out of the ground under phenomenal pressure, shooting flames a hundred feet into the air.

The night was filled with the thunder of 30mm cannon kicking off across the dried-up wadi bed that separated us from our target – the buildings no more than a hundred away. It had prevented the drivers going right up to the front doors.

I was hungry for more air. My nostrils filled with sand, but I didn’t care. I had my feet on the ground and I was in control of them. And, thanks to the mortar platoon, I could see what was happening. Their 81mm tubes had filled the sky with illume. Balls of blazing magnesium hung in the air above the town before beginning their descent, casting shadows left and right as they swung under their parachutes, silhouetting the two massive Challengers rumbling left and right of us.

Bright muzzle flashes from four or five AKs sparked up from the line of houses that edged the built-up area.

Our gunner switched from the 30mm Rarden cannon to the 7.62mm Hughes Helicopter Chain Gun to dish out a different edition of the same good news.

Two Warriors lurched to a halt alongside us, throwing up a plume of dust. My nose was totally clogged now. Guys spilled out of the back doors with bayonets fixed.

Pete adjusted the oversized Batman utility belt round his waist where he stuffed his lenses and shit, and raised his infrared camera to his face. He was like a kid in a sweetshop as the mass of armour surrounding the town spewed infantry into the sand.

Dom got ready to do his Jeremy Bowen bit to camera. He rehearsed a few soundbites to himself as Pete sorted the sound check.

‘The Kingsmen of the Duke of Lancaster’s Regiment are halfway through their six-month tour. They have been shot at twenty-four/seven by small arms, RPGs and mortars, but ask any one of them and they’ll tell you it’s what they signed up to do.’

Tonight they were about to kick the shit out of the insurgents who were within spitting distance of taking over Al Gurnan and starting to claim the ground as their own. They had to be broken. An insurgent stronghold soon became another link in the supply chain from Iran, just ten clicks away.

The Kingsmen’s mission was to do the breaking, and ours was to report it. Dom talked, Pete filmed him, and I had to make sure the two didn’t get shot, snatched, or run over by a set of tracks sent screaming across the desert by a bunch of jabbering Scousers.

It wasn’t easy. When Dom started playing newsman, he seemed to think there was a magic six-foot forcefield standing between him and any incoming fire. Sometimes he thought he didn’t even need to wear a helmet. But in this war the enemy didn’t give a shit whether you were a journalist or a soldier. If you were a foreigner they wanted you out, preferably in a body-bag. If they could get you alive, so much the better: you’d be the new star of The Al Jazeera Show, and all you could do was hope your next appearance wouldn’t end with them slicing off your head online.

The chain gun ceased fire. The Kingsmen swarmed down into the wadi.

Dom made to follow, but I grabbed him and pulled him on to his knees. Another flurry of illume kicked off over the town and the cannon opened up again. I had to scream into his ear: ‘They said not to go forward until they call us! Wait. Let them get on with it.’

The Kingsmen vanished for a few seconds in the dead ground of the riverbed, before reappearing on the far bank, screaming and shouting all sorts of Scouse shit they probably didn’t even understand themselves.

They kicked their way through a series of old wooden doors and into whatever chaos lay the other side.      


The Tank MuseumIt is with the greatest envy that I announce you this:

“A man who needs no introduction……Andy McNab is the author of the two highest selling military history books of all time; Bravo Two Zero and Immediate Action.

Join us for this unique oppurtunity to hear about the experiences of this decorated former SAS serviceman in what promises to be a memorable evening. There will also be a book signing session.”

Thursday 1st November 2007 – 7.30pm

How much?
£12 (300 tickets available).

Special note:
Strictly No Photography allowed! 

Where? Go here to find out



Andy McNab joins The Sun 2005Simon gave us the link, saving the search. Thanks!

And there we learn… that you’re not supposed to go to BattleSeen just YET, this is an ” exclusive video series for The Sun” and they ask “to come back to The Sun online over the next four weeks to see Andy testing out the long range sniper rifle, light machine gun, the underslung grenade launcher and the SA80 combat rifle”. So please ignore all previous links to BattleSeen, be patient. Oh oops no, on the Sun site ‘related story’ is ‘Andy McNab’s Official Website’  but that takes you to…BattleSeen. Confusing.

The Sun writes:

THE weapons Our Boys use in Iraq and Afghanistan have been put to the test by SAS hero Andy McNab in an exclusive video series for The Sun.

Andy spent a day at the British Army’s Support Weapons School in Wales firing all the infantry weapons used in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Among the arsenal are the general purpose machine gun (GPMG), the long range sniper rifle, the underslung grenade launcher and the SA80 combat rifle.

Andy believes our troops are well equipped for battle and that the grenade launcher is their best bit of kit.

He said: “I had a lot of fun testing these weapons and can say first hand our forces are well armed to tackle the threat posed by the Taliban and insurgents.

Go here for the full article. It includes a vid of McNab that looks pretty familiar, it might just as well be a shuffle of the two vids on BattleSeen indeed. BUT… the good news is that the Sun talks about ‘four weeks’ so I suppose we can expect more footage than we’ve seen so far!

PS could someone there please correct his name.. I mean.. McNabb ?? [edit – noticed they removed the extra b now ;-)]