Neryl Joyce worked in Iraq from 2004 to 2006 — says her “self-belief, courage and a never-say-die attitude” took her from working at Woolworths to becoming a Baghdad bodyguard, but also almost got her killed.
Working for two of the most powerful security companies in Baghdad, Joyce — who had served as a commissioned officer in the Australian Army’s close personal protection unit — was responsible for protecting high-threat targets from assassination and opportune attack in the lead up to, and following, Iraq’s first democratic election since 1953.
“Ever since I was a kid I’ve wanted to be Wonder Woman or Luke Skywalker or someone who protects others or saves the world,” she said. “When I heard about (private security work) I was instantly attracted to it because I wanted to do something that was about more than just me.
“I wanted to be a part of Iraq’s first democratic elections because it was going to be history-making and if I helped protect the guys who were organising that I’d feel like I’d played a small part.” And while Joyce loved the military, the money she earned in Iraq was more than she’d ever receive as a single mum in the Army.
“Obviously it was painful to be separated from (son Kane) but you reconcile it in your mind in that it’s really hard trying to have a full-on career and be a full-on mum,” she said. “The idea of being able to balance them both by doing one at a time seemed like something I wanted to give a go.”
Joyce said the work was, at first, exciting and confidence-boosting. But she claims it soon became apparent that she took security more seriously than some of her colleagues at the first company she contracted to. After repeated complaints to management about slipping standards and poor leadership, her professional and personal resolve was tested when her colleagues were ambushed and killed on one of the world’s most dangerous roads.
In April 2005 — the day Joyce was supposed to leave Iraq — her teammates, were ambushed on Route Irish in Baghdad. Joyce would have been there with her team if it had not been for a medical emergency.
In April 2005 — the day Joyce was supposed to leave Iraq — her teammates, were ambushed on Route Irish in Baghdad. Joyce would have been there with her team if it had not been for a medical emergency.
“The team was supposed to deliver me to the airport but I spilt boiling water down the front of me, and went to the hospital,” she said.
The ambush scenario is now used as a training tool for how not to operate in hostile environments.
“The incident made me realise if you have people who won’t listen to you or who don’t care about doing the job properly there’s nothing you can do to change it as a minority,” she said.“That was kind of a turning point for me where I thought maybe this industry isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be ... it just wasn’t regulated enough.“When you want to do a job properly but you’re just set up to look unprofessional, I just didn’t want to be associated with it.”
Joyce’s journey through the battlefields of Iraq exposed her to more than the just threat of ambush and assassination. In her book Mercenary Mum, to be released tomorrow (September 29), she reveals how her life changed forever when a fellow security contractor spiked her drink and raped her while working for Blackwater (since renamed Academi).
It was such an out of control situation. I couldn’t do anything about it,” she said.“The moot point in the whole thing was that I couldn’t even take the bloke to court. I didn’t even get the opportunity to say ‘he did this’. I guess that was the most frustrating thing. “But I still have fond memories from when I was with Blackwater. I just remember the good parts like when I met my husband. I remember the company looked after me. And the guys I worked with were really good and took their jobs seriously which is all you really want.”
Almost a decade later the Perth mum is finally sharing her story about what it’s like to be a woman in “prejudiced man’s world” — exposed to alcohol-fuelled parties, drugs and sexual abuse — in a book that has taken more than seven years to get published.
In it she describes how 13 years in the Defence Force had not prepared her for the problems she would face as one of few females in what was then a burgeoning, largely-unregulated and male-dominated industry.
“There was a lot of anger in the book when I originally wrote it — lots of swear words, lots of emotion,” she said. “But it’s been nearly nine years since I first wrote it and a lot of that anger has receded and come out of the book, so it’s more of a story. “It’s just about letting people know that I did a job that isn’t the norm but underneath all of that I’m just like everybody else. I’ve had heartbreak. I’m like everyone else. I deal with it the same way. I’m still normal.”
Original Story found at www.news.com @NerylJoyce
