A young wife loses her life in a road traffic accident in a remote village in North Northumberland to a hit and run vehicle. The car, and its occupants are later identified, but the police are only able to bring minor traffic charges against them. The husband does not believe his dead wife will ever be at rest until justice is properly served. From the family farm in Northumberland, to the deserts of Iraq and over a period of twenty-five years, all occupants of the vehicle are traced by the husband, who delivers his own kind of judgement. A police officer and distant relative, whose advances were rejected by the wife before she married, is driven to gather evidence against the husband, to settle family scores and satisfy his ego.
Out of the forty-five recruits who started, only fifteen managed to pass on to a six-month course where the training just got tougher, the runs got longer, the mountains got higher and the rivers wider and rougher. We would be dropped somewhere individually and told to get back to base by a certain time with only a compass, no food, inadequate clothing, no map and carrying a heavy pack. Along with other sections of the regiment we also spent some time in a Belize jungle where we were eaten alive by mosquitoes and one chap got bitten by a snake and almost died. Soon there were just four of us and after one guy got lost for two days in the Brecon Beacons, just three. That was me, Billy MacDonald and Ray Mansfield.
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