The Special Air Service, Organized Crime & Local Police    

By Anthony C Heaford, 06 August 2020

This is a report I’d prefer not to have to write but I am compelled to for my own personal protection and my legal defence (both now and post mortem).

In February 2013 I disposed of approximately 400 illicitly sourced pharmaceutical tablets by flushing them down my toilet, leaving an indelible forensic trace from the local water treatment facility directly back to my private bathroom.

The tablets had been passed to me a few days earlier, supposedly pharmaceutical grade sleeping tablets. While I have no idea as to their actual content I now know they were potentially lethal, causing the hospitalization of at least two people, one of whom was me.

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Five months earlier I’d returned from my military service in Afghanistan and as I remain to this day, I was deeply troubled by my experiences there and the apparent disinterest of people back home to the reality of the conflict. I admit I had turned to hard drugs as a way to cope, trying to blot out the troubling emotions of frustration, anger and disbelief at what I’d witnessed in Helmand. Those emotions combined with my wayward lifestyle made sleeping very difficult and so I asked a ‘well connected’ friend (a current signatory to the official secrets act due to his working in a highly sensitive government funded industry) if he could get me any sleeping tablets. Reliable as ever, my friend said he could get some and so I asked for forty at a cost of £1 per tablet - more than enough to get me through I thought.

My friend was estranged from his wife at the time (she is the other person to have been hospitalized after being given the tablets) and so the exchange took place in my car. I gave my friend £40 but instead of the forty tablets in pharmaceutical packaging I’d expected he placed a plastic tub of around four-hundred loose tablets in the foot well of my car. I was perplexed and concerned but he was in a hurry and was adamant I should take them all, even suggesting I swallow one there and then, despite me having yet to drive the twenty miles back home. I asked if he was mad suggesting such a thing, telling him I wanted them to be able to sleep rather than for recreation. He responded by saying “Just take half of one then.” I now realize my continued refusal to do so probably saved my life.

I remember very little of the next few days – I’d driven home and desperate for sleep I had taken one of the tablets in the early evening. I next woke in a stupor in the middle of the night – whether that was one or two days later I have no idea. I do remember deciding to take another ‘sleeping tablet’ with the idea of maintaining a normal sleep pattern. The next time I regained consciousness I was able to determine that whatever these tablets were I shouldn’t have them and certainly shouldn’t be taking them. I remember tipping the entire contents of the plastic container into my toilet and flushing them away before returning to bed and again falling into a deep sleep.

My next clear memory was of being woken by concerned family members who’d let themselves into my flat after being unable to contact me for several days. Still disorientated but having made a decision not to tell them about the ‘sleeping tablets’, I tried to explain my state away by saying I'd been drinking heavily. They were concerned enough to refuse to leave until I’d consented to attend the emergency ward of the local hospital, who in turn tried to make me stay overnight and submit to a brain scan as soon as possible. I only now realize how delirious I was because soon after my family had left the hospital I discharged myself and returned home. I convinced myself that there was nothing wrong with me despite clearly being very emotionally troubled and confused. It took more than a year of a continued wayward life style and hard drug use before I sought professional help through my doctor.

I haven’t used any hard drugs for over four years now but remain dependent on prescription sleeping tablets. I have used self-proscribed medicinal cannabis to supplement the sleeping tablets and that has suppressed my troubling dreams and allows me up to eight hours of deep sleep. I stopped using medicinal cannabis about three weeks ago, but only due to my supply being compromised rather than by choice. My troubling dreams, related to my Afghan service and other very complicated matters*, have already returned. Despite being proscribed the strongest permissible sleeping tablets I now rarely get more than four hours continuous sleep without being woken in distress or a panic by one of my troubling dreams.

But how does this connect to Britain’s Special Air Service? 

That’s too complex and too dangerous for me to describe publicly. I will say it concerns the person (a current signatory to the official secrets act) who supplied his estranged wife and me with the illicit sleeping tablets that caused both our hospitalizations. My last troubling dream, just last night, revolved around the fact that that person has historically received protection from members of Her Majesty’s Special Forces who he has alluded to being involved in Britain’s ‘Dirty War’ (extra-judicial killings) in 1970s Ireland, a conflict known as ‘The Troubles’.


* the US 9/11 military commission has asked to interview me about my claims of attending multiple meetings with senior members of al Qaeda during a 1997 business trip to Yemen, as per the email below. I have declined their invitation because I don’t trust them, the US Department of Defense or the judicial process at Guantanamo Bay, but I hope to make my testimony available to the 9/11 families’ civil lawsuit seeking accountability for and the truth about the attacks.    

NOTE: This report / confession has already been forwarded to British solicitors, American attorneys and currently serving members of parliament. I have done that for their information and my protection. I will make the appropriate medical and law enforcement authorities aware of it too, for their knowledge and potential action.

Truly, for some of us nothing is written, unless we write it 
© Anthony C Heaford - The Quiet Mancunian