BRAVO TWO ZERO MOVIE WAS EDITED

Under the command of Sergeant Andy McNab, they were to sever the underground communication link between Baghdad and north-west Iraq, and to seek and destroy mobile Scud launchers.

Bravo Two Zero Movie Was Edited

In the desperate action that followed, though stricken by hypothermia and other injuries, the patrol 'went ballistic'. For the survivors, however, the worst ordeals were to come. Delivered to Baghdad, they were tortured with a savagery for which not even their intensive SAS training had prepared them.Bravo Two Zero is a breathtaking account of Special Forces soldiering: a chronicle of superhuman courage, endurance and dark humour in the face of overwhelming odds. The whole movie was edited as if it were one, long battle sequence, which was fair enough given that this was more or less what Bravo Two Zero was, but it did result in the introductions to men and mission being hurtled through, half the dialogue not quite capable of being caught before it was cut away from, and the eight troops, despite each being granted a short to-cameraBravo Two Zero is committed to providing the best possible service to our clients. We are a fully licensed and insured private security and investigation agency, with over 40 years of Security, Law Enforcement and Military experience.

The story is familiar to millions through books written by two of the survivors under the pseudonyms Andy McNab and Chris RyanBravo Two Zero is Andy McNab’s nerve-shredding account of one of the SAS’s most ill-fated — but heroic — missions, undertaken 30 years ago during the Gulf War.Bravo Two Zero was the code-name of the famous SAS operation in Iraq during the Gulf War. Three of the soldiers died, four were captured and one escaped. Bravo Two Zero is the most famous special forces patrol of recent years - eight SAS soldiers dropped on a dare devil mission behind enemy lines against impossible odds during the Gulf War. Within days, their location was compromised.

It was called Bravo Two Zero. In January 1991 a squad of eight men went behind the Iraqi lines on a top secret mission. They were British Special Forces, trained to be the best. Their story had been closed in secrecy. The book Bravo Two Zero, written by patrol commander Andy McNab, became a bestseller.Their mission: To take out the scuds.

I remained passive.If you do the hard-man routine, stick your chest out and say f*** you, they’ll fill you in again and that’s counter-productive.If you appear to be subdued, they’ve got the effect they want. Starring action favorite Sean Bean (The Lord of the Rings trilogy, National Treasure) and based on a captivating true story written by best-selling author Andy McNab, Bravo Two Zero explores the tragedies and triumphs of men taken to the edge of survival in the Persian Gulf War.To mark the anniversary, we are printing extracts from the worldwide bestseller.Yesterday, McNab related how he was captured after being separated from the rest of his unit just short of reaching the safety of the Syrian border.In the third part of our compelling series, he finds himself helpless in the hands of Iraqi troops.The Iraqi squaddies hauled me out and dragged me on my back through some gates and into a courtyard. -They are the true unsung heroes of the war.- Lt.

What unit are you from?’My interrogator at the Iraqi military camp was all chummy, making it sound as if he had the power to summon a private jet to whisk me back to Brize Norton.‘I’m sorry, I cannot answer that question.’There was no way I was going to tell him I was an SAS sergeant and with my eight-man, long-range patrol — call sign Bravo Two Zero — we had been dropped deep into Iraq to destroy their Scud missile launchers.Andy McNab's torture in an Iraqi jail would have killed many menAs the kicks connected with my skull, there was a hissing, popping sound in my ears, and as I clenched my jaw I heard the bones creak together. It was wonderful to see him, to have somebody there to share my predicament.‘JUST TELL me, Andy, and we’ll send you back to England. I even got a small smile out of him. It was Dinger — and the look in his eyes said: it’s going to be all right.

He’s helped us and he’s out there lazing on the grass, he’s still alive, he’s in the sun. We already have this information from your friend, you know. Sh*t, I was only in my early 30s.‘You must understand, Andy, I have a job to do.

What I had to do now was give them the least amount of information to keep myself alive.‘Just tell us what we need to know and that’s it. But how long could I go on like this?In refusing to answer their questions I wasn’t being all patriotic and brave.We all had an agreed cover story on why we were in Iraq — that we were a search-and-rescue dropped in to retrieve downed pilots — but I couldn’t come straight out with it.I had to make it look as if they’d prised it out of me.It was a matter of self-preservation, not bravado. The moment my tongue touched the sharp, tender stumps I passed out. I felt my molars crack and splinter and when the pain hit me I was down and screaming my head off.I tried to spit out the fragments but my mouth was too swollen and numb.I couldn’t swallow. Pictured: British soldiers in protective gear during a training exercise in 1991 - the same year McNab was capturedThey set at me with rifle butts and one particularly heavy blow caught me on the jaw.

Then it just took off and left us.’ For that vague reply, I got another kicking, and pretty soon I was totally out of the game.I wasn’t exaggerating any more. When the helicopter came down there was confusion. ‘How many of you were there?’‘I don’t know. They demanded more information. I’ll help you.’ And I gave them the cover story about the search-and-rescue team. There’s no problems, if you help us.’‘OK,’ I said in a hoarse whisper, wanting to appear utterly done in.

I thought of shouting ‘God Save The Queen!’ to him, but decided it was not a good time. It was good to hear him, even though he was moaning and groaning.I couldn’t see him or touch him but I knew he was there. They were stubbing cigarettes out on him as well. I heard Dinger’s voice just behind me.

In my head I began pacing myself for a long capture, lasting perhaps a couple of years.THE places I was held in, beaten up in and interrogated in changed until eventually Digger and I ended up in a prison in Baghdad. The plan must be to keep us alive, as hostages perhaps. When I went down under a flurry of slaps and scratching from old women, the soldiers moved in and drove us away.

Why are you in Iraq?’ I went through the same old story, and then guards held me as he slapped me hard.‘We know that you’re lying because we have your signals operator in hospital, that’s why. I was sat in a chair and there was complete silence for what seemed like an hour.Then someone I dubbed The Voice began: ‘Andy, today we want the truth out of you. They came for me, blindfolded and handcuffed me, and dragged me off without saying a word. His scalp was split open and he was groaning, totally gone.Now the interrogations became even more brutal.The pattern was the same. Through the open door I caught sight of Stan.It was the first time I had seen him since the night he, Chris and Vince had wandered off ahead of the rest of the patrol and we lost contact.The whole of his head, including his beard, was dark red and matted. I was filled with dread as my thoughts went to horror stories I’d heard of meat hooks in the ceiling and electrodes on the testicles.When Dinger and I arrived there, we were dragged into a block and thrust into separate tiny cubicles.There was a gagging stench from a hole in the middle and two porcelain footpads on either side.My ‘cell’ was a minging sh*t-house.

This is it, I thought: this is where they rape me.Instead they pushed me down on to the chair and held my head forward. Then they started to strip me and I had sudden visions of them cutting my manhood off.They pulled down my trousers. Was it a bluff?‘No, I’m not lying,’ I said but they slapped me again and I went down. Maybe Legs was still alive, and in his physical condition he might have said anything.But The Voice hadn’t told me what Legs had said.

I went down again, screaming my head off.For the next few days, it carried on. I was unconscious before I hit the floor.I came to, groaning and mumbling, and they hoisted me back on the chair.I then got my first hit with a metallic ball on the end of a stick, like some sort of medieval mace.It thumped into my neck and arms and kidneys with terrible precision. Whoomph! It must have been a piece of four-by-two or a paddle.I screamed out like an idiot as they worked their way all over my back and head with it.