7/7-Witnesses

July 7th 2005 London Bombings

Key Quotes and Comments:

Witnesses described a bright flash with the explosions. A flash is not consistent with peroxide based explosions as usually no flame is created. (new scientist) Many of the survivors suffered from burns. Burn injuries would not be consistent with peroxide based explosives.
Times: "Twenty seconds after the train started, there was a massive blast — really, really loud. Outside, sparks and flames burnt up the side of the carriage."
JACK LINTON
Times: "Seconds after the train pulled out, there was a huge bang, then a flash of light"
YVONNE MADUEKE
Guardian: "The first thing I knew I saw silver travelling through the air, which was glass, and a yellow flash,"
MICHAEL HENNING (watch Henning on BBC - wmv)
Guardian: 'One regular commuter on the packed Piccadilly line tube train said they instinctively knew a bomb had gone off when the train drew slowly to a halt after a blinding flash and loud bang.'
Guardian: "We were coming out of King's Cross and there was a really big bang, a big, bright flash of light and loads of black smoke started to pour into the carriage,"
TOM CURRY
Channel 4 - wmv : "large flash of light, felt a burning sensation" - watch
CHRIS RANDALL
Guardian: 'The blast sent a flash of flame down the outside of the train as the carriages reared up'
BBC: "Just out of Edgware Road there was this yellowish flash"
JOHN TULLOCH
Many of the survivors were left with missing limbs after the explosions, particularly lost legs. As investigators established early on, the explosions took place at ground level. Some witness reports suggest that bombs were underneath the carriages. Witnesses describe the carriage floors raising up, the train being derailed and holes in the floor.
Independent: The victims' wounds suggested that the explosives, which were "not heavy but powerful", had been placed on the ground, perhaps underneath seats.
DC Andy Hayman: Was not able to say how the devices had been detonated but confirmed that each device on the trains was placed on floor of a carriage, and on the bus a device was placed on the floor or seats.
Guardian: At the centre of the carriage he fell through a hole and dangled above the live rail. ..... He said a seriously injured commuter called Stan who had fallen through another hole.
CNN: 'He said seconds after leaving Kings Cross station, there was a "large bang," and people were "physically ejected" from their seats. There were "flashes of light on the side of the tube carriage." "Then smoke was coming down the tunnel. Nobody would go out of that exit. No one would go out of the other exit because, as I understand it, there's a bomb in the middle of the carriage."'
ANGELO POWER
Independent: "She was trapped and there wasn't much left of her leg. The chap next to her had lost his leg and there was a woman to their left who was on her back trapped in the metal, which had twisted up through the middle of the carriage. The roof was still on, but the lining of the carriage had been blown off. The sides had also come off and there was a big hole in the floor."
LIZZIE KENWORTHY
CEN: "The policeman said 'mind that hole, that's where the bomb was'. The metal was pushed upwards as if the bomb was underneath the train."
BRUCE LAIT
Guardian mp3: [Mark Honigsbaum after interviewing survivors] "an explosion this morning under the carriage of the train", "some passengers described how the tiles, the covers on the floor of the train, suddenly flew up, raised up", "had been derailed by this explosion" - listen
Guardian: 'One gentleman told me the floor of the train had blown up.'
Guardian: 'Other witnesses also reported a huge hole being torn in the floor of the carriage, and said one of the men who died appeared to have fallen through the gap.'
Guardian: "The tiles on the floor of my carriage suddenly shot up."
ANITA KINSELLEY
BBC: The window behind me had exploded in, part of the ceiling was on the floor and there was a large hole in the floor.
CHRIS STONES
BBC: She came straight to me and helped lift the doors that were on top of me then helped me up, took my hand and walked me through the first carriage where the manholes in the carriage were blown out
DANNY BELSTEN
Very few witnesses have been reported as having seen the men on 7/7
Times: "I later discovered that the bomber was standing about 12ft away, but I've no memory of him at all."
BRIAN HAUGHTON
Daily Mail: George does not remember seeing suicide bomber Hasib Hussain
GEORGE PSARADAKIS (No 30 bus driver)
CEN: They seem to think the bomb was left in a bag, but I don't remember anybody being where the bomb was, or any bag,"
BRUCE LAIT
Daily Mirror: "That morning I got on the front of the train, which was closest to the stairs, and stood next to the bomber, Mohammad Sidique Khan. I looked at him, as you do. He seemed quite calm. Nothing, in retrospect, made me think: "This guy's got a bomb." He looked at me, and as he did so he put his hand inside his rucksack, looked at me again, looked away, and pulled back his hand."
DANNY BIDDLE see conflicting statements
Richard Jones: Conflicting statements of seeing Hussain on No.30 bus.

eyewitnesses

Daily Mail: I can't forget my bus passengers
Guardian: Mark Honigsbaum - mp3
Guardian: Where the bombers struck
Cambridge Evening News: "I was in tube bomb carriage - and survived"

"I was in tube bomb carriage - and survived"

cambridge evening news | 11h July 05 | original url: here

CAMBRIDGE dancer Bruce Lait has spoken of his miraculous escape when a bomb exploded just yards away from him in a Tube train carriage.
The 32-year-old was knocked out by the blast and awoke to a terrible scene of devastation in the underground tunnel near London's Aldgate East station.
Mr Lait, who teaches dance in Cambridge, believes he and his dance partner Crystal Main were the only passengers in the carriage who survived the blast without serious injury - even though they were sitting nearest to where the bomb detonated.
When he came to, there was a body lying on top of him and he was surrounded by the dead and injured. But incredibly, the only wounds the dance coach sustained were facial lacerations and a perforated eardrum.
"I feel extremely, extremely lucky," he said.
The explosion happened just after Mr Lait and Ms Main, 23, got on the train at Liverpool Street on their way to the South Bank for a rehearsal.
He recalled that the carriage had about 20-25 people in it, from all walks of life, and aged from their teens to over 60.
"I remember an Asian guy, there was a white guy with tracksuit trousers and a baseball cap, and there were two old ladies sitting opposite me," he said.
"We'd been on there for a minute at most and then something happened. It was like a huge electricity surge which knocked us out and burst our eardrums. I can still hear that sound now," he said.
The impact of the blast made him pass out. As he came to, he wondered whether he was alive or dead.
"We were right in the carriage where the bomb was. I was knocked out. I did not know what was going on.
"I wondered if I was dead or not. I said to myself, you can't be dead because your brain is having conscious thoughts, so concentrate hard. I was telling myself 'wake up Bruce, wake up'."
Disorientated, he only gradually realised where he was and what had happened.
"When I woke up and looked around I saw darkness, smoke and wreckage. It took a while to realise where I was and what was going on, then my first concern was for Crystal.
"She was okay but she was in shock because she was trying to deal with the person on top of her who had massive head injuries. We have just found out that this person died," said Mr Lait, who lives in Suffolk.
He too was afraid to move because there was a seriously injured woman lying on top of him.
"I realised someone was lying on top of me. I tried not to move her because I didn't know if she was still alive, or I could have made it worse. This person also died, while on top of me."
At the same time, he slowly tried to work out whether he or Crystal had been injured.
"I thought if I can wiggle my toes I'm okay, and I could, and I asked Crystal to do the same."
Describing the scene as they waited for help, he said: "It was just the most awful scene of death and there were body parts everywhere. There was something next to me. I was trying not to look. I couldn't figure out what it was."
When paramedics arrived, they confirmed that the woman on top of him was dead and carefully moved her body. Mr Lait said the middle-aged woman had blonde curly hair, was dressed in black, and could have been a businesswoman.
He and Crystal were helped out of the carriage. As they made their way out, a policeman pointed out where the bomb had been.
"The policeman said 'mind that hole, that's where the bomb was'. The metal was pushed upwards as if the bomb was underneath the train. They seem to think the bomb was left in a bag, but I don't remember anybody being where the bomb was, or any bag," he said.
They were led through the tunnel to the platform at Aldgate, which was just a few hundred yards away, and taken out of the station to wait for an ambulance.
Mr Lait was taken to the Royal London Hospital, Whitechapel, where he was visited by the Queen on Friday.
He said: "They asked would I mind if my name were put forward and I said I'd love to meet the Queen, even if the circumstances weren't ideal."
Sitting with his parents, Pat and Tom, Mr Lait told the Queen as she stood at his bedside: "I'm very thankful to still be here."
He said of Her Majesty: "She just seemed very nice and concerned, she seemed very genuine."
Now back at home, he has been trying to recover from the ordeal, with the help of friends and family.
Mr Lait, who teaches the Latin formation team XS, based in Cambridge, and the Cambridge Dancers' Club, said he has been moved by people's care and consideration.
"I've had people who know me phone me from all over the world and ask if I am alright. Those pictures of me and the Queen have gone all over the world."
And he said the terrible experience has given him a new outlook on life.
"It has made me realise how important life is, and that we only get one life, and we've got to be happy with what we've got in our lives."
Reflecting on the ordeal, he said: "Out of that whole carriage, I think Crystal and I were the only ones who were not seriously injured, and I think we were nearest the bomb.
"It makes me thank Him up there. I'm not overly religious but I'm not a disbeliever. I pray now and again. Something like this has just made me think, 'thank you Lord'."

Channel 4: Chris Randall - wmv
BBC Panorama: Michael Henning - wmv
BBC News 24: Witness describes explosion - 'big white- wmv
BBC: Tube driver tells of bomb chaos
BBC: 'I will take 7 July to the grave'
BBC: I'm lucky to be here, says driver
BBC: Witnesses tell of bomb blast hell
BBC: Jeff Porter (tube driver) interview - wmv
BBC: Survivor's tale: Edgware Road bombing

Survivor's tale: Edgware Road bombing

BBC | 8th August 05 | original url: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/4132170.stm

Professor John Tulloch, who works at Cardiff Journalism School, was at Edgware Road Tube station in London on 7 July where seven people were killed by the bomb detonated there.
He spoke to Andrew Hoskin from BBC Radio 4's Today programme about his memories of that day.
I was travelling on a routine ordinary workday and my life suddenly changed.
Just out of Edgware Road there was this yellowish flash - I didn't hear a sound. Everything kind of got stretched like a rubber photograph - you know you're pulling at the sides - everything got kind of destabilised.
Next thing I was on my back, blood on my face, hurting in the head, glasses gone - couldn't see much. The carriage was dark.
Then I rolled over to the two American women who'd been sitting close to me, to actually ask them to help me or help me find my glasses.
I saw them in the same condition as me and then I knew this was something big.
And then I kind of got an adrenalin buzz.
Shadowy figures
I knew that my legs were good, my body was good - my head was hurting - but the rest of me was good and I sort of got to my feet and I went looking for my stuff and my glasses and I couldn't see much.
"Until that moment, until the moment he came in, I was kind of like in, I'm a survivor mode"
I could see the floor was sort of damaged and I avoided that.
But I sat down on this little broken seat, now opposite those two American women - one was sprawled on the seat, one on the floor - and then I saw another Tube train right next to us with its lights on and sort of shadowy figures in the windows.
It's like being in a ground-zero - you know, you're lying there, you don't know anything, you see those American women - you know it's bigger than you, you cross the carriage you see another train - you're kind of remapping your reality and I then thought, two trains - we've had a crash and it went on from there.
This RAF guy came in and helped me and talked about his family and I talked about mine.
It was like I was suddenly a victim - until that moment, until the moment he came in, I was kind of like in, I'm a survivor mode.
Recovery
[One month on] I've got pretty bad vertigo, so it's actually hard to think clearly - it's hard to talk to you.
On the other hand, I'm making small but steady and significant progress - things that we never would think about normally.
This morning I stood up in the shower by myself for the first time.
I walked for half an hour - only a week ago I'd only walked about 30 metres.
I'm not thinking of the bigger pictures, so I can't really answer that question too honestly because, for example, I'm not even thinking about the Tube travel again.
Iraq 'links'
I do think that it [the co-ordinated bombing attack] is linked to Iraq. I do think that politicians have deliberately over-simplified the arguments of people who say it's connected to Iraq.
It's not simply that Iraq happened and then, like a billiard ball, this happened.
Iraq actually means lots of different things.
It has lots of meanings. It has, for example, the meaning among an awful lot of people of an illegal war fought by a presidential style leader who doesn't actually believe in popular democracy at all.
Lots of people think about Iraq in moral terms - Abu Ghraib - and a kind of despicable morality which reminds us too closely of Saddam Hussein.
Does the Iraq that means to a lot of people, Falluja, and the killings of thousands upon thousands of harmless people and when I got the force of that explosion and lay in hospital in pain for many days, I was getting just a touch of that sense and emotion and feeling and pain that these people have to face every day.
The bigger picture
What I'm saying is, that Iraq is not simply something that happened that generates terrorists, it's the whole rhetorical set of meanings that won't go away.
The Prime Minister may want us to move on; it's too symbolic, it's deep in our consciousness.
There's me as a comfortably off, white western Australian/British citizen talking and we know that millions of British people have a mix of those sorts of feelings about Iraq and many more that they would tell us about.
If you add to that the injustices the Muslim people have in this society following their family history, following their parents who worked hard and were spat on - people who get herded up by police and so on - I can't speak for them, they must speak for themselves. I'm saying though, that there's a huge alienation.
The various meanings I was talking about, the various discourses about Iraq, of course are more complicated than Iraq because Iraq is part of a much bigger picture - whether it's emotional, ideological, psychological, cultural - there's a whole range of things that are broader than Iraq.
But what Iraq is doing is symbolising an awful lot that's wrong with how we relate internationally and how we relate internally and domestically.

BBC: Reliving the London bombing horror
BBC: London explosions: Your accounts
CNN: Commuters recount subway horror
Independent: Conflagration: 'A guy was writhing around... I just told people they'd be OK'

Conflagration: 'A guy was writhing around... I just told people they'd be OK'

independent | 18th December 05 | original url: http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2099-1891957,00.html

When the 7 July bombers struck, off-duty policewoman Lizzie Kenworthy was on the Tube train blown up at Aldgate station. She knew that she had to 'see what I could do'
I was a safer schools officer at the time and normally would have been at a secondary school in south Tottenham, but that morning I was on my way to a conference in Westminster. I was in plain clothes and holding on to the rail in the middle of the carriage when there there was a bang and the train stopped. I thought we had had a shunt. Everyone gasped and the lights went out. Smoke started to come into the carriage and I told everyone to keep calm. People started to shout from the next carriage that they needed help, and doctors and nurses. That's when I got out my warrant card and said that I was a police officer. I went through the connecting doors into the next carriage and realised that we were in serious trouble. It was very dark and people covered in soot were coming towards me.
I walked through to the end and saw the buckled door of the next carriage, which is where the bomb had gone off. A man said: "You mustn't go in." I could hear people screaming, so I knew I had to see what I could do. I crawled through the interconnecting door, which had blood on the glass. One woman sitting on the seat was twisted round. She was trapped and there wasn't much left of her leg. The chap next to her had lost his leg and there was a woman to their left who was on her back trapped in the metal, which had twisted up through the middle of the carriage. The roof was still on, but the lining of the carriage had been blown off. The sides had also come off and there was a big hole in the floor. A guy was writhing around on a big sheet of metal a bit further up.
I had a corduroy jacket on and tied it round what was left of the first chap's leg as tightly as I could. I thought he would die if I didn't do something quickly. I held his hand, as well as the hand of the woman who had lost her leg, and told them that help was coming and they were going to live. A man from the carriage I'd come through asked if he could help and I told him to go and get some T-shirts and belts. He came back with some and I gave a belt to the woman who was on the seat and she tied it round her leg. I told her to hold on to it and help would come. She did; she was very brave. I also gave her a T-shirt to stem the blood from her other injuries.
The man who had lost his leg was talking to me almost normally. He said, "I've lost my leg", and I said, "Yes, but you're going to be all right." Periodically, I would check the woman on the floor because she was still shouting. I couldn't leave those three to go to the young man lying on the piece of metal. I thought I might as well stay with the people I could help. I just shouted to him that he would be all right.
The people who had been in my carriage started walking along the tracks towards Aldgate. I shouted at them quite angrily to get me a first-aid kit. They were walking like zombies. They couldn't bear to look. Eventually, the carriage filled up with paramedics and firemen, who took over. I started to flag a bit and decided to leave.
By the time I left the station an hour had passed since the explosion. I gave a policeman all the details of the people I had looked after. I went into a shop and they let me use their toilet to clean myself up. Then a woman took me to her office and I phoned my family. My sister's friend has a flat in the Barbican so I stayed there until my husband picked me up. When I got home I tore off my clothes and shoes, threw them in the garden and scrubbed myself as clean as I could. I didn't sleep at all.
I went back to work the next week and found it quite difficult to engage for a while. For a week, I thought the three people I'd been looking after were dead. Finding that they were alive was sheer pleasure. They seem to think that I saved their lives, but who can say? I'm still in touch with two of them and firm friends with the chap. We were invited to look at the train in a big hangar, which we did together.
At the beginning, I kept dreaming that I was back in the carriage and that everyone was all right. I think I might have been feeling guilty that I didn't do enough. I heard that the other chap had died. I hadn't gone to him, but I couldn't have left the three I was looking after. I will never know whether it would have made any difference if I had done something for him or not, so I have to live with that.
I think about what happened pretty much every day, but it's getting easier to deal with. I still travel by Tube and always carry a first-aid kit and a torch in my rucksack. It doesn't go away, but I live with it rather than it living with me.
I sometimes still have nightmares. It was the worst thing that I've had to deal with in my career. But nothing tops seeing those three people having their tea after the memorial service with their families. We had a sort of party afterwards, which was quite emotional. I just grinned and grinned. It was like winning the lottery seeing them. Although they had these horrendous injuries they were glad to be alive. I thought, if I do nothing else in my entire police career, I have done something that has made all the aggravation worth it.

Times: The survivors

The survivors

times | 4th December 05 | original url: http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2099-1891957,00.html

The survivors

For the people pictured here, July 7 began as a summer's day like any other. The ring of an alarm . . . a rushed breakfast with the family . . . a frantic run to the station . . . crowds on the platform. And then, around 9 o'clock, the bombs went off, bringing with them chaos, destruction, searing heat . . . and unimaginable fear and pain. For this special feature, six survivors recall in graphic detail what happened to them on the day that terrorists bombed London — and how, against all the odds, they managed to come out alive
DANNY BIDDLE
Edgware Road

Danny, 26, is a building-projects manager and lives in Romford, Essex. His girlfriend, Lisa Flint, 25, works for a shipping company in Hainault, Greater London
"I woke at the usual time, 5.10am, with a migraine. I was with my girlfriend, Lisa, at her parents' house in Romford, Essex — we'd been saving to get married. I said to Lisa: "I'm phoning in sick." Then I dozed off. Half an hour later, my headache had eased up. I had a meeting about a big job, so I thought I'd go in. I got dressed — jeans, T-shirt, Caterpillar boots — kissed Lisa goodbye and left for work.
That extra 30 minutes made all the difference. There was a delay at Liverpool Street, so I walked through to the Circle line, and went to the front of the train. I usually sit at the back because you never hear of a train reversing into anything. Crazy reasoning, but that's what I do. And I always stand up. After all, I'm 26.
That morning I got on the front of the train, which was closest to the stairs, and stood next to the bomber, Mohammad Sidique Khan. I looked at him, as you do. He seemed quite calm. Nothing, in retrospect, made me think: "This guy's got a bomb." He looked at me, and as he did so he put his hand inside his rucksack, looked at me again, looked away, and pulled back his hand.
With that there was a crackly noise like when you tune in a radio, and the train seemed to expand and contract very quickly. I was slammed straight out of the train by the force of the blast, bounced off the wall of the tunnel — that's how I got the big scar on my head — and skidded along like a rag doll. As I landed, the train came to a halt and the doors, opened out by the blast, closed violently — guillotining my legs. I heard everything crack. I didn't lose consciousness. It was all over in 10 seconds. Imagine the worst pain, magnify it by a million, and that's close to what having a train door cut through your legs feels like. I screamed. Then it was as if someone turned the switch off. Boom! No more pain.
Blood was pouring down my face. When I went to put my hand on my forehead I actually put my hand inside my forehead, on my skull. I called for help but all I could hear was people screaming from the carriage. Then someone would stop screaming, and I'd know they'd died. Then this mountain of a guy appeared: Adrian Heili, a fellow passenger, a South African who'd been in the Swiss army. He now works as a bodyguard. "Don't worry, we'll get you out," he said. "I've never lost anyone yet and I don't intend starting now." The track could have still been live but Adrian had grabbed it. Then, when he wasn't electrocuted, he'd crawled underneath the train. At the same time, Lee Hunt, an Underground driver who'd been on his tea break at the depot at Edgware Road, had come down when he heard the explosion. He, too, crawled under the train.
I was calm because I honestly believed I was going to die. But Adrian lifted the door off me, then held me to put tourniquets on my legs to keep me alive. Lee shone a torch in my eyes to keep me awake, and they talked to me about my favourite football team, Arsenal, my girlfriend, my family — anything to stop me going to sleep. By about 10am, they'd got me out. I was the first into St Mary's, Paddington. The doctor looked at me with utter panic. Later, he admitted to me he didn't know where to start. I was bleeding and my legs were all mangled and cut and burnt; my arms were five times their normal size, so I looked like a cartoon; my jeans had been blown off me in the blast. The money in my left-hand pocket had been blown into my right leg. I've still got a 20p piece that blew right through my leg embedded in my thighbone. I've always got money on me! Within seconds there were consultants and Christ knows what at my bedside. I told them my name and where I lived. Then I was out for the count.
I woke five weeks later. At the hospital it was knife-edge whether I lived or died. I had 70 pints of blood put in me — called a total exchange. I suffered three cardiac arrests in the first two hours. The third resulted in them opening my chest up, massaging my heart to get it going again. The police traced me, through bank-account details in my wallet, to Lisa's parents' house. But it took all day, and it wasn't until midnight that they told her to come to the hospital. "Time is of the essence," they said. My dad and mum, who were living in Spain, were called by Lisa's dad. They thought they'd be coming home to a funeral.
At St Mary's, they didn't think I'd last the night. The comical thing was that when this beautiful 25-year-old, my girlfriend, Lisa, arrived that night, my body was so broken up that they'd put me down as 55 years old. Lisa had come to say goodbye. When she came in, I opened my eyes and said her name. It meant that Lisa knew the possibility of brain damage was reduced. I came close to dying that day. I lost both legs and went from being 6ft 4in to 5ft-nothing. I had second-degree burns to my arms and face, a massive cut on my head. I'm completely deaf in my left ear; I lost my left eye; and my spleen, which had ruptured, had to be removed. I spend most of my days in a wheelchair.
Khan took a lot from me. I can't grab hold of him and shout. But I only feel anger towards him, and not to the Muslim religion or Muslims. I channel my anger into getting my life back. I will walk. I will get married. I'll have children.
I won't lie down and let people like Khan destroy my life. Fortunately for me, I had two incredibly brave men, Adrian and Lee — and I can't stress enough how those two guys are heroes for me — and fantastic hospital staff who've got me walking on prosthetic legs. The doctors and nurses at St Mary's, Paddington, and at Queen Mary's, Roehampton, have overwhelmed me with their care and kindness. When I was upset, they'd be there to comfort me, and if I'd wake up in the night, a nurse would hold my hand until I'd gone back to sleep. If I woke up 30 times, she'd come 30 times. I'll never get on a Tube train again; I can't be in the dark now; I can't be in confined spaces. I wake up at night and I can taste blood in my mouth, smell the smell from that tunnel and hear the screams of those people dying. Those screams will always be with me. It sounds funny, but I feel guilty for surviving.
Danny Biddle is now in the Douglas Bader rehabilitation centre at Queen Mary's, Roehampton. He is learning to walk again; "Going back 26 years, and learning to do all the things you take for granted," he says. He is having physiotherapy twice daily, and now has a prosthetic eye. He says he should be able to be 80% recovered. Then he will carry on working for his old firm, T H Kenyon and Sons, in a different role. He and Lisa still plan to get married and they will live in a bungalow. Danny's solicitor has applied for compensation through the Criminal Injuries Compensation Authority (CICA). He has received compensation from the London Bombings fund."
JACK LINTON
Aldgate
Jack, 15, lives in Hockley, Essex, with his mother, Lesley, 48, an auxiliary nurse, and his sister, Sarah, 23, who works for an accountancy firm in Euston. He has an older brother, Ben, 21. Jack is studying for GCSEs at Greensward College, Hockley
"I was doing work experience at a travel company in London. I'd been a bit nervous earlier in the week, but by Thursday I felt okay. When I got up at 7, my mum was in the kitchen ironing my clothes — I had to be a bit smarter than usual. I had a croissant and orange juice watching the television — which was all about the Olympics coming to London.
Then I said goodbye to Mum, and my sister and I walked to the train, in a bit of a rush because Sarah's nearly always in a bit of a rush. We both got seats, and I sat listening to Black Eyed Peas and the Zutons on my iPod. At Liverpool Street, my sister went off to Euston and I headed off up the escalator to McDonald's, as I was bit early. I got hash browns, which I ate on the balcony, looking down at all the people. By now it was 8.50am, so I went down into the Underground and got on a Circle-line train. I held the pole with my back to the double doors, which closed, then opened up again for a couple of seconds, then closed again. I only knew later that my carriage was next to the one where the bomb went off. Twenty seconds after the train started, there was a massive blast — really, really loud. Outside, sparks and flames burnt up the side of the carriage. Inside, the lights had gone out and it was thick, musty smoke. I was panicking and crying. I thought I was going to burn to death. Someone shouted: "Help! We're dying!" I think several people were killed at that moment.
Everywhere I looked I could see people bleeding and covered in bits of glass: a blind man lying next to me, a very pregnant lady who was actually trying to calm someone, a man with bits of glass all over his face and head. Some people were screaming in agony; others were quite composed; one woman was hysterical.
A passenger called for everyone to get down on the floor, where there was more air. When I fell on the floor, glass was everywhere, cutting my knees. At first I was crying, then I calmed down. I saw this girl, Christine, who seemed to be on her own, like me, and I stayed next to her. The bomb had gone off in the next carriage. Most of those people were very badly hurt. Some were killed. We were there, like that, for 40 minutes.
Eventually the doors opened and we were led by fire brigade and Tube staff out of the carriage and around the bombed carriage. We saw terrible things: a woman sat with her knee up — she may have lost her leg — and her clothes ripped off, crying her eyes out. A man's head was just a mass of blood. I think I saw dismembered limbs and bodies — I'm not sure. Christine said: "Don't look." I looked quickly, then looked away. By that time, fire and Underground staff had managed to get into the tunnel, and they lifted us down onto the track. Nearby, two dead bodies were lying with their heads down, all black. I think they'd been burnt.
I held Christine's hand and we started walking down the track in single file. I thought there'd be rats in the tunnel, but I didn't see any.
Eventually we got out onto the platform. It was now about 9.40, and we all gave our details to the police. My phone wasn't working, so Christine gave me hers and I called my sister. I got through quickly. I just cried when I heard her voice, and said: "There's been an explosion." She said: "Stay there. I'll come and find you." Half an hour later, Christine had called her mum, spoken to the police, and was in a taxi on her way home to Guildford.
I was now on my own. As I walked down the street, ambulances and police sirens were everywhere, but I knew Sarah was on her way. I saw a big widescreen television in a tiny cafe, with the news. As I watched, I realised it was the news of the bombing at Aldgate — where I was.
On the TV you could see the helicopters over Aldgate station. Then I looked up to see the helicopters over Aldgate, and the TV camera hopping about nearby. I went to Starbucks and got a hot chocolate, then I talked to an American woman and her friend, and they asked me if I wanted to go back to their place in Tower Hill. But I said no, Sarah knows where I am. Finally, Sarah came. She'd been with a friend from work, and they'd walked past Tavistock Square when the bomb went off in the bus, so she and her friend had helped before getting someone else to take over. By now my ear was hurting so much I felt like it would burst. We got an ambulance to the Royal London hospital, where they cleaned me up. We waited for John, the family friend who'd organised the work experience for me. He drove us home. In all that time I hadn't been able to get through to my mum. It was about 4pm when we got back, and she was standing at the front door, crying. We had a hug, and I was crying too. Then I had a shower. I was a wreck. I had chippings of glass everywhere — on my scalp, all over my trousers, shirt and shoes, even inside my pockets.
Then I had a lie-down; I was quite tired. That evening I watched EastEnders and went to bed early — about 8.45. It was nice to get back into bed. That night, at home, it felt like a dream; like it hadn't happened to me. But then it was all on the telly, wasn't it? Seven people killed at Aldgate; I couldn't get away from it.
Jack's eardrum was not burst, and he has recovered physically. He has bad dreams and was offered counselling but has not taken it up. He and his family have not pursued compensation, partly because, his mother says, she understood that could be quite an ordeal in itself. For his birthday he was given a jack russell puppy, named Preston, after the dog in the Wallace & Gromit film A Close Shave — it seems to have aided Jack's recovery."
YVONNE MADUEKE
King's Cross
Yvonne, 30, is a microbiologist. Her husband, Udoka, works for Transport for London. They have a son, Kene, 17 months, and live in St Albans, Hertfordshire
"At 6am, when I got up, my husband was about to go to work. "Won't you give your wife a hug and a kiss?" I said. He's usually gone before I'm up. "What are you doing up this early?" he asked. I had a shower, got dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, then, at 7, our nanny arrived to take care of my son. I left as the nanny and he waved at the window. I got the bus to High Barnet station, then the Northern line to King's Cross, which was unusually crowded. I remember thinking: "If a bomb goes off nowÉ" The Piccadilly-line platform was so crowded a guard was telling people to move down. Then an announcement said there'd be delays on the Piccadilly line. I said to myself: "It would take 15 minutes to walk." But it was 8.48am. I waited for the next Tube.
When the train finally arrived, people were pushing to get on. I held onto the central pole. The last person on was a black woman with braids, who sighed: "Thank God I made it!" Seconds after the train pulled out, there was a huge bang, then a flash of light, and I was thrown sideways as the pole exploded in my hand and people were thrown on top of me. It went very quiet. I thought I was dead. Maybe a minute passed, or maybe it was just seconds. Then I knew it was a bomb.
I couldn't hear properly. Later, at the hospital, I was told I had a perforated eardrum. Because I was holding the centre pole, the people around me had actually protected me. I closed my eyes and prayed. Blood was pouring down my face and all over me. My own and other people's. After praying, I wasn't scared of dying; I just hoped it'd be quick. At first, people were screaming and shouting, then a few took control, saying: "Don't panic." A blonde woman next to me was still screaming. I hugged her: "Look, we are fine." Then somebody said: "Please keep quiet; the driver is talking to us." The driver opened the connecting door between him and the carriage.
Slowly we all moved towards the front of the carriage. "Look, we're still alive; we're going to walk to Russell Square," said one man. The driver calmly guided us between the rails. As we walked, we could hear screams from the back, but it was too dark to see. A round-looking black guy with blood running down his face rushed to overtake the others. I didn't know who he was but I thought he'd be electrocuted. Actually, he was making sure everyone wasn't pushing, because if one person fell we'd all fall on the live tracks. After about 20 minutes someone saw lights and screamed "Station!" At Russell Square two men pulled us up onto the platform, and the black guy who'd helped us along the tracks pushed from behind. I saw this guy on the news later on that day, but nobody has heard from him since. The Underground operators stared at us, not knowing what had happened - this bedraggled group, covered in blood and soot. Halfway up, I got service on my phone and called my husband. I was sobbing, out of control.

"Stay there," he said. Twenty-six people were killed on that train. I was surprised it was so few. I think most died immediately. The station complex had been cordoned off by the police but the ambulances hadn't yet arrived, so some people started wandering home. People on the street saw me covered in blood and soot and asked: "Are you okay? Sit down." That's when I heard that there were people all over London walking around, like me, covered with soot and blood, scared and confused. I saw a colleague who worked in the next department to me in Great Ormond Street. We sat down and chatted. People started giving out blankets; the Tesco opposite the station dished out water and Lucozade. A man on a blanket, who looked very badly injured, wailed. I felt more numb than anything. Then my husband came. We hugged and I knew everything would be okay. The police told us to go next door, to the Holiday Inn, in case another bomb went off. That was when my husband got a call from a friend saying he'd just seen us on Sky News. People who knew us recognised my husband, but they were looking at me saying: "Udoke's wife is much paler." But it was me, covered in soot. People with eye and ear problems, like me, were sent by ambulance to Moorfields eye hospital. Then the hospital organised a minicab to go to Golders Green. From there, a friend drove us back to St Albans and home. Earlier that day I'd thought I wouldn't see my son again. I really wanted to hug him, but I was still covered in soot and glass, so I ran a bath to try and get clean. I went to bed about 10, but I couldn't sleep. I kept on waking, hearing the bang of the bomb in my dreams. That day has changed my life completely. My husband means more to me. When I thought I was going to die, what went through my mind was that I never showed how much I really cared. Now, if we have silly arguments, before he goes out I'll say: "Give me a hug." I think: "What if I never see him again?"
Yvonne's eye, which was badly cut, has healed, as has her perforated eardrum. She has changed her job because she doesn't want to spend so
much time travelling. She still won't go on the Underground. She is applying to the CICA."
BRIAN HAUGHTON
King's Cross
Brian Haughton, 58, is an information officer for the British Geological Survey, based at the Natural History Museum. He lives with Neil Navin in Stathern, Leicestershire
"I got up at 6, and went outside to check my llamas. I've got five, which I keep as exotic pets. I find them very calming. Then I did the basic things: quick breakfast, shower and change into a blue-and-white checked shirt, pink tie, a black blazer-type jacket with navy trousers.
I took the train to King's Cross, and then the Piccadilly line. I always get on at the front of the platform but when the announcer said, "Please move down, the platform's getting over-congested," being a good citizen, I walked down and stood, taking in everybody around me. I like people-watching, and I stood behind a tall girl who looked like Nigella Lawson - black jacket, lots of black glossy hair; a lady in a red jacket with a tapestry backpack, an oriental lady and a shortish lady.
The platform got busier, and when the train came in, the lady in the red jacket said to people near her as she got on: "Don't push me." I got on, and stood holding the pole nearest the door. My briefcase started off by my side; then, as the crowd got tighter, I held it in front of my chest. Eventually I was holding it right in front of my face. Only seconds after we set off, there was a blast. Everything went completely black and the train lurched like mad. I thought we'd derailed, but the explosion had caused the train to stop dead. I was thrown around so much, I had a large bruise where my elbow had dug into my body. It didn't occur to me it was a bomb. I later discovered that the bomber was standing about 12ft away, but I've no memory of him at all. Everybody was falling about and screaming. Some were wailing: "I'm dying." For a moment I thought: "This could be the end; if the train catches fire, we're done for."
But pretty quickly I realised I was okay. Because I'd held onto the pole and my briefcase was in front of my face, the shattered glass had only penetrated my arm. Today, you can see the mark on the briefcase where my arm was, where the shrapnel didn't hit it. Not much at all compared to what others suffered. I lent down and picked up the shortish lady and the oriental lady. Then I helped the oriental lady find her shoes by the light of her mobile phone. As some people made everyone stand up to see how injured people were, I saw the face of the woman next to me: it looked like raw meat. She thought she'd lost her eye, because she couldn't see and she was pouring blood. I realised that my face would've looked like that had I not had my briefcase there. She said to me: "Promise you won't leave me." And I didn't. I call her E because I never knew her name.
From the moment I realised I was okay, I was in helper mode. I ferreted inside my briefcase for my bottle of bitter lemon to hand to people who were choking; I took off my tie to be used as a bandage. After some time, I realised that the people in the next carriage were filtering out, and a station chap appeared and kicked in the door. I got a bit bossy after that: "Right, all the people from behind the door first," I said, as I shunted these people from behind the door, apart from E.
I led E, on my arm, through the carriages and I didn't leave her side until she went into surgery. We were the first walking wounded to go down the tracks to King's Cross. A policewoman helped us up onto the platform and we went up a stationary escalator into the ticket office, where we sat on the floor wrapped in blankets and foil. E's face was very painful with her injuries, which wasn't helped by different doctors coming to check her wound, and each time lifting the bandage. From here, I rang E's husband. "This is a wind-up," he said. "Listen to the sirens," I said. I made these phone calls for E to her husband and her work, before I called Neil or work. In fact, as I called E's husband, I got a text from Neil saying: "There's been trouble in London. Are you all right?"
 
Faulking Truth: Richard Jones

London "Suicide Bomber": Cross-Examining the Witness

faulking truth | 24th September 05 | original url: http://www.faulkingtruth.com/Articles/CommentaryToo/1037.html

It was trumpeted in newspaper article after newspaper article around the world: "Witnesses Suspect Suicide Bomber."

The Fox News version also cited multiple witnesses, and there seemed to be no question about it: "Some witness accounts suggested the bus bomber may have blundered, blowing up the wrong target and accidentally killing himself."

The UK Sun said that, "Shocked survivors told how they saw a 'suicide bomber' on board the double-decker bus destroyed in yesterday's terrorist outrage." Other reports referred to "accounts from eyewitnesses on the No. 30 bus" that "raise the spectre of a suicide bomber."

So there you have it. Case closed. According to almost every major news report, not only did investigators find "some of his property on the double-decker bus in which 13 died", but they apparently had multiple reliable witnesses who actually saw the bomber enter the bus with his bomb, and lived to tell about it. Granted, the alleged bomber himself was blown to bits, but who cares, because "WE'VE GOT EYEWITNESSES!"

Justice prevails again. Or does it? Let's take a look at the list of witnesses that have come forward to corroborate the "official version" of the story as it was so dutifully reported by the press.

Okay, first of all there's this guy.......Richard Jones, 61, of Berkshire. And then there's.......um, there's.....well, there's these two girls who told someone at some hospital that they saw a guy "blow up". Names? NO, we didn't get THEIR names, or their stories, and we don't actually HAVE any other witnesses......but we've got Richard Jones!

Luckily, Jones' story is so detailed, and his account is so reliable, that we don't NEED any other witnesses. I mean, everybody has heard his saga by now.....haven't they? Well, if you haven't, don't worry, we'll tell you his story right now. Because Jones SAW THE BOMBER!

Let's start with what we know "for certain" (Why? Because Richard Jones told us!): He was on the bus just seconds before it blew up, saw the bomber with the bomb, and miraculously, got off just in the nick of time.

First, let's hear what Jones had to say about the bomber:

The UK's Sunday Mail said that Jones "revealed how he came face-to-face with one of the London bombers" and that Jones said that the bombing suspect "was right in my face." Then, in the same interview, Jones also said that "He was standing with his back to me downstairs at the driver's side."

The Associated Press version quotes Jones from the BBC interviews as saying, ""Everybody is standing face-to-face and this guy kept dipping into this bag."

But then, in an article in the UK's Sun, Jones had this to say: "I did not see his face because he was constantly looking down."

And in another interview he said it this way: "I didn't actually see his face but he was becoming more and more anxious."

Then, in an interview with ABC News anchor Charles Gibson, Jones said: "he kept pushing almost his bottom into, into my, my, my face."

"Face-to-face with the bomber"....."right in my face"....."I did not see his face"...."Standing with his back to me"...."pushing his bottom into my face."

Huh? Well, at least his description of the bomb was accurate:

From the BBC News: "He was standing next to me with a bag at his feet and he kept dipping into this bag and fiddling about with something."

Yahoo News: " an agitated man fiddling suspiciously with a paper sack."

In the Sunday Mail: "he only got off because he was so annoyed by the man next to him fiddling with a rucksack"

The interview with ABC's Charles Gibson:

Jones: " It was a, obviously, a small bag. It didn't go beyond the width of his ankles."

Gibson: "The police have said that they have seen these fellows arriving at King Cross Station (sic) in a closed-circuit television, one of those security cameras, and that they had knapsacks, rucksacks, backpacks on. Is that what this looked like?" (Editor's note: Is that what they call "leading the witness?")

Jones: "That's correct, well, it, it would be something, it wasn't like a large sports bag which protruded beyond his ankles. So that would be consistent."

"A paper sack"....."a small bag"....."fiddling with a rucksack"...."knapsack, rucksack, backpack"....."it wasn't like a large sports bag."

This is not looking good for the prosecution. Be honest with me here. How many of you out there wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a paper sack and a backpack? That's what I thought. Okay, let's move on to the bomber's appearance:

In the News Observer: "He described the man as being about 6 feet tall, olive-skinned and clean-shaven, wearing light brown trousers and a light brown top."

The Sunday Mail: "The man was wearing hipster-style fawn checked trousers, with exposed designer underwear, and a matching jersey-style top. Richard said: 'The pants looked very expensive, they were white with a red band on top.'"

Associated Press: "He described the man as being about 6 feet tall, olive-skinned and clean-shaven, wearing light brown trousers and a light brown top."

But then, on July 15, newspapers and TV stations around the world carried pictures of 18 year old Hasib Hussain....the bus suicide bomber, taken by closed circuit television cameras just two and half hours before he allegedly blew up London Bus No. 30. The Age online newspaper ran a picture of Hussain, and said that "The image is grainy but stubble is visible on his face. He is wearing a dark jacket and dark trousers and his carrying a backpack."

"Hipster-style fawn checked trousers and a matching jersey-style top"...."olive-skinned and clean-shaven, wearing light brown trousers and a light brown top"....

And the real bombing suspect? "stubble visible on his face.....wearing a dark jacket and dark trousers." And correct me if I'm wrong, but in the picture, his dark jacket, dark trousers, and shirt all appear to be blue....not "fawn checkered....not "light brown".

Oh.....and he's "carrying a backpack"....not a "paper sack"....not a "small bag".

Moving on....Our expert eyewitness then got off of the bus because.....well, we'll let him tell you why he got off of the bus:

Remember the Sunday Mail? "he only got off because he was so annoyed by the man next to him fiddling with a rucksack."

From the Reuters version: "Richard Jones jumped off his bus when he realised it wasn't following the usual route."

Associated Press: "Jones decided to join another passenger who said he was going to walk instead."

Back to the ABC News interview:

Gibson: "Now, I understand you got off just before the explosion because the bus had been re-routed and, and really wasn't getting anywhere."

Jones: "Correct. I was then able to go out the back door, the rear door of the bus."

And finally, lets go back to the UK Sun article: "Richard stepped off the bus at his destination."

Wait, there's one more. From the Independent: "Mr Jones got off the bus - he did not know why - and started walking."

"Wasn't following the usual route"...."decided to walk"...."wasn't getting anywhere"...."annoyed by the man with the rucksack"...."reached his destination"...."got off the bus-he did not know why."

And that's not all. In several versions, Jones said that he exited out "the back door, the rear door", (ABC interview), and that "we banged the back of the bus and the driver then let us off," (Associated Press), but then, in the Sunday Mail version, he said, "I had to bang on the front door and shouted something like, 'Come on, Jimmy, we want off.' About half a dozen got out the back door just before us and the same number, including me, left by the front."

"Banged the back of the bus"...."banged on the front door"....went out "the back door, the rear door"...."left by the front."

While Richard Jones "expert testimony" was used to supposedly "identify" Hasib Hussain as the London Bus bomber, and whose story, excuse me.....stories.....have been repeated around the world, ad nauseam, a witness who was on one of the London train carriages has been largely ignored. 32 year-old dance instructor Bruce Lait, who was in the carriage where the bomb went off (and has the injuries to prove it), said that "the metal was pushed upwards as if the bomb was underneath the train,"and "they seem to think the bomb was left in a bag, but I don't remember anybody being where the bomb was, or any bag."

Whether Richard Jones is a sick publicity hound who is trying to cash in on the tragedies of the London bombings, a pathological liar who has either gradually embellished his story or cut it out of whole cloth, or was in fact planted by "someone" to corroborate the official story, one thing is certain. His story is not credible, and is so full of holes that anything he says should be discounted as unreliable. And other than Jones, authorities have singled out NO EYEWITNESSES WHATSOVER to the bus bombing, and public officials and the media have once again perpetuated a story that just doesn't hold up to close examination.

April 19, 1995, Oklahoma City.....9/11/2001, New York City......and now, July 7, 2005, London......Three tragedies, three cities, and an entire world still waiting for the truth.
 
Prison Planet: Stagecoach employee re: cctv 

London Stagecoach Employee Says Bus Bombing Suspicious

prison planet | 15th July 05 | original url: www.prisonplanet.com/articles/july2005/150705busbombing.htm

We received an e mail from an employee of Stagecoach, the company responsible for the majority of London buses.

Our contact works a route roughly one mile from the site of the bus bombing last Thursday.

The bus driver pointed out that the number 30 bus was the only one to be re-routed after the initial bombs went off in the London Underground, every other bus carried on its normal journey, but for some reason this bus was diverted.

The driver notes the following about CCTV maintainence.

"CCTV gets maintained at least 2 or 3 times a week and can digitally store upto 2 whole weeks worth of footage. this is done by a private contractor....So when I heard that the CCTV wasn't working on a vehicle that's no more than 2 years old since last June.....I'm sorry that's rubbish, I work for the company I know different."

Also a point of interest....last saturday a contractor came to inspect the CCTV on the buses at the depot, According to my supervisor the person spent m ore than 20 hours over that weekend, 20 hours to see if the CCTV is working? Also that person who came was not a regular contractor, for security reasons the same few people always come to the depot to carry out work, this time it was different.

Drivers in the depot already think the so called bombers had inside help because it was to organised. Some even think it had help from the company."
I have received other information suggesting that the CCTV is regularly maintained and checked. The police pay the bus company to check it, and the bus company makes a substantial profit out of this, so all parties benefit from keeping the CCTV systems working.
This information makes it all the more suspicious that the bus cameras were not working.
Was the mammoth 20 hour inspection session of the CCTV a means of disabling the CCTV, or something even darker? Were the contractors, who were not familiar to the bus company employees, actually placing the bomb?
But don't worry, the media are drooling over this picture of supposed suicide bomber Hasib Hussain, who we are told detonated the bus bomb. (images)
Well, it's a grainy picture of a Muslim guy with a rucksack, case closed! That's good enough evidence for me, I'm going back to sleep.
It's beyond doubt that these four Muslims were framed. They were most likely hired as MI6 spies, sent to Pakistan and then brought back and told they were to take part in an important exercise to test national security. Give them the rucksacks, get them on the trains and then detonate the bombs remotely.
Do you really believe for a second that guys with 8 month babies and guys who taught diasbled schoolchildren would want to blow themselves up and kill other innocent people?

Daily Mirror: The tube bomber stared me straight in the eyes as he set off the explosion that blew my legs away

The tube bomber stared me straight in the eyes as he set off the explosion that blew my legs away

daily mirror | 24th September 05 | original url: here

A JULY 7 victim yesterday told how Tube bomber Mohammed Sidique Khan stared at him from 10ft away as he blew up the train.

Danny Biddle, 26, lost both legs and an eye and spent four weeks in a coma after the explosion at Edgware Road.

And recounting the horror from his hospital bed for the first time, he said: "I remember everything so vividly.

"People carry rucksacks on the Underground every day, so Khan didn't look out of place at all.

"He was sitting by the first door of the train and I was standing about 10ft away.

"I noticed him reaching into his bag and he didn't say or do anything. He wasn't agitated or fidgety, he was very calm.

"He looked at me and looked around the carriage. Then he pulled some sort of cord."

Six innocent people were killed there and another 46 in the three other blasts across London.

Danny, travelling to work, was hurled out of the carriage and ended up on his back with its doors crushing his legs.

He said: "The shock and adrenalin quickly set in and I prepared to die. I could see the carnage in the carriage and knew that people had been killed.

"I was covered in soot and blood. I reached up to touch my head and my forehead flapped down into my eyes and I could feel my skull.

"I thought, 'No one's going to find you here,' but I still screamed for help." He was saved by a former South African Army officer who gave him first aid.

Danny said: "He was a huge guy. He lifted the train doors off my legs and put a tourniquet on to stop the bleeding.

"He had a small torch and kept shining it in my face to keep me awake and asking me questions about myself.

"This guy had appeared out of nowhere. He later told me he had to crawl under the carriage that was blown up. He's my hero and will be until the day I die."

Danny, of Romford, Essex, later needed 70 pints of blood in hospital and 125 stitches.

The building site manager also suffered three heart attacks in his first week as well as having kidney failure and a ruptured spleen.

He also needed eight £1 coins and a set of keys surgically removed from his thigh after they became embedded there.

But he was sickened when earlier this month, as he lay recovering, he watched a televised video of teaching assistant Khan, 30, justifying attacks on Britain.

Danny, at St Mary's Hospital in Paddington, West London, fumed: "My reaction was utter disbelief."

He added: "I was face-to-face with the man who changed my life and there's nothing that can be done to get justice because he blew himself up.

"But I hope he rots in hell and never makes it to the paradise he longs for."

He also bitterly attacked Samantha Lewthwaite, the 21-year-old widow of King's Cross Tube bomber Jermaine Lindsay, for telling a newspaper she too was a "victim".

He said: "It's disgusting. It turns my stomach."

The former keen sportsman also reflected sombrely on the way his life has been torn apart. "I had a very active job that I loved but now won't even be allowed on a building site in a wheelchair," he said.

"I used to play football three times a week and tried to go to the gym twice a week.

"I have plenty of dreams in which I still have legs. I was 6ft 4in, now I'm 5ft nothing.

"I was used to people looking up at me, now I have to look up to them."

Fiancee Lisa, 25, will help care for him, as will his parents Pauline, 55, and John, 57, who have returned to the UK from their retirement home in Spain. His brother Tony, 32, will also move back from New York to be closer to him.

Yet Danny counts himself lucky to be alive.

He said: "I could have been brain-damaged. Anything could have happened.

"Sometimes I feel guilty about surviving. I ask myself, 'Why me? Why did I survive and the other six didn't?'"

Now he is determined to battle through his ordeal and fulfil his dreams of marrying Lisa. He vowed: "You can't just cave in and say, 'My life is over'. You just have to get on with it.

"I will get back as much of my life as I can. I've come this far - I could've given up. It's not going to happen overnight but I'll give it everything.

"My three goals are to walk my lady up the aisle, to have a dance with her and to walk back into this hospital to thank the doctors who saved my life."