Scott Jones

I think Hesto was November.

But the other sister platoon were doing a job out in Afghanistan.

They're coming home in Bushmasters.

And on the way home, one of the last jobs of Rotation 18, 2012 in Afghanistan...

My mate Tim Pereira, who we call Dids, is in the rear hatch of a Bushmaster manning the Mag 58.

A shooter's job, right?

But he just wants to help out.

He hasn't done selection, but he wants to help the boys.

His sole purpose of being there as a bear is to make sure that the boys are safe purely by listening to what the enemy are doing and taking away the situational awareness from the enemy.

He's up in the hatch while he's doing that, manning the gun.

The rear of the Bushy slides out in some mud,

around a roundabout and crashes into a jingle truck and all of the six-handle green trunks that are bolted to the top of the roof of the Bushmaster slide back, slam the hatch on his neck and snap his neck in half.

And he was completely unconscious.

The medic did a phenomenal job of keeping him alive.

But now, you know what, fuck, 15 years later, he's in Melbourne in a purpose-built house and he's a quadriplegic.

He can't move anything from his neck down.

But there's a shooter out there going, fucking Chook cunt, fucking cat, fucking Sig, dumb cunt.

Like, come on, mate.

Like, and how many dudes from Alpha Company right now listening to this?

I'm sure there's a few.