In my profession, I bump into a great many hazardous circumstances and dangerous situations. I’m an explosive ordnance disposal technician, commonly referred to as EOD Tech, or more easily understood as a bomb disposal technician.
I gained my skills serving in the Australian Army for 16 years, working both locally and on overseas operations. As part of the United Nations peacekeeping force, I spent a year in Cambodia where I saw the impact of millions of land mines laid during conflict. They littered the countryside, causing death, serious injury, preventing farming and hampering development.
I decided I wanted to work in developing or struggling nations to help people affected by the explosive remnants of war. Let’s face it, I also wanted to have an interesting and impactful life.
I’ve cleared all types of explosives: small hand grenades, lethal little cluster bombs, large aircraft bombs – some more than 1,000 kilos – and even 12-meter-long Soviet SAM 2 guided missiles. I resigned from the Army in 2002 and spent the next ten years of my life in the Laos People’s Democratic Republic, referred to locally as Lao.
Laos is the most heavily bombed country in the world per capita - the result of the United States dropping bombs on the country as part of the Vietnam War. It was in Laos that a ridiculous set of circumstances, which almost boggle the mind, created a particularly dangerous situation.
We were clearing cluster bombs from a village near Sepon, in the South East of Laos, when we found a ROCKEYE cluster bomb. The cluster bomb is a dangerous little shaped charge weapon used primarily to destroy armoured vehicles. In Laos, it’s always best to destroy all bombs to ensure local kids don’t play with them.
I checked whether my local team leader had evacuated all of the villagers. He replied, “all of the people are out of the village except for the crazy man.” He explained a mentally ill man was tied up and confined to a bamboo structure less than 10 meters from the bomb. To my frustration, the head villager refused to move this man from the area. We were seriously running out of time.
...it became clearer to me that my own daughter could’ve ended up without a father had anything gone wrong."
I knew at this point that I had no other choice but to move the bomb myself. It was a last resort, especially for a cluster bomb with a sensitive fuse. I moved in, picked it up by hand and moved it into a deep hole. I placed my explosive charge and destroyed it.
In this instance, I relied on my training and took a calculated risk. I put myself in danger to ensure the safety of the village kids. They, and the wider community, were my primary concern in that moment. While I hadn’t been scared, when I reflected on the situation later, it became clearer to me that my own daughter could’ve ended up without a father had anything gone wrong.
There were many benefits from my time in Laos. I was lucky enough to meet my wife, Khao, who understands my work more than most. She was a mine detector operator that I helped to train. I still work in the bomb disposal field for an Australian company called Milsearch. Nowadays, as my daughter nears 10 years old, I try to stay a little closer to home so I can be the best dad possible.
Watch Insight's full episode, Nerves of Steel, here:
