It isn’t that we ‘oldies’ can’t do the job. I can honestly and modestly say that with the experience and reputation we have gained over the years in the field, we can probably do the job as well as most, if not better. Personally, however, it is the conditions and the environment in which I have occasionally found myself working that make me now tend to turn away from operations for a much quieter and far easier life. For example, in the car I now more often than not listen to Classic FM, as the serene music relaxes me when I drive and helps me control any early symptoms of road rage. Therefore, the repetitive thump, thump, thump of a noisy nightclub would most certainly send me insane and into a high-risk mental institution. And when I travel, I must admit that I do rather like the comforts of a decent hotel and tasty meals taken at leisure, so putting up with long hours and the frequently uncomfortable conditions of many high-risk close protection operations would almost certainly result in a grumpy, aching, moaning old bastard, whom I would not want to inflict on anyone! So, a relatively sedentary life in front of the computer screen is for me, I think, much preferable.

Rarely, for someone not from a predominantly military background, I went from being a timid, naive doorman at The Ritzy nightclub in provincial Norwich to an eventual trainer of bodyguards in high-risk countries worldwide. And over the years, while working on the doors and out in the field as a bodyguard, I have met a great many extremely interesting people, leading diverse and remarkable lives. I have been enthralled by hundreds of stories: funny, horrific, astounding, sad, tragic, inspiring, upsetting – the list is seemingly endless! Most of us working in the industry have had unique experiences, so I thought it would be a fantastic idea to chronicle some of our exceptional tales. And so this book was born.

During my time on the doors and out in the field as a bodyguard, I have met some wonderful and very genuine people – some real diamonds. Sadly, the opposite is also true: I have met some complete and utter cunts. I suppose it stands to reason that because of the nature of the industry – who we have to deal with, the environment in which we sometimes find ourselves and what we are occasionally asked to do – there are probably more extreme personalities working on the doors and as bodyguards than in most other professions. Most people are genuine, hard-working, honest, loyal, conscientious and utterly professional, while others are a complete waste of time – boastful, disloyal and dishonest wankers who you wouldn’t even want to wipe your arse with, let alone trust with your life.

When I first started this project, I asked around to see who would be willing to give up four or five hours of their time over a three- to four-month period in order to write about their experiences. I asked all sorts of people, from good friends who I have worked with and have infinite and everlasting respect for to friends of friends who I didn’t know personally but who were referred or recommended. I asked criminals serving life, well-known gangsters, cons and ex-cons. I spoke to the inexperienced novice door supervisor starting on the doors for the very first time and a bodyguard on his very first assignment. I asked members of Special Branch, bodyguard training companies and ‘old school’ roughneck doormen. Many said that they would be glad to contribute and a few said no – they either didn’t have the time or were just not interested. Regardless of whether they agreed to participate or not, most people I spoke to were real diamonds – but some were utter cunts.

We have more than 20 enthralling chapters from some amazing people: Charlie Bronson writes about the early 1970s before he was put inside; Dave Courtney reveals how much he misses the violent times of the 1980s; Mickey Francis chronicles the rise and fall of Loc19, one of Manchester’s most feared door firms; Alex Powell tells me about the time he and his close protection team protected the votes of the Iraqi people; and Inna Zabrodskaya recalls the time she fucked up a security and surveillance operation for the managing director of a multi-national corporation in Moscow.

A really big thank you goes to all of the contributors, with special mention to a few friends, including Charlie Bronson. Charlie has perhaps a little more free time than the rest of us, but within a few days of me asking he sat down and in his own distinctive style wrote a unique and funny little story about his experiences and thoughts on doormen and working the doors. Charlie was banged up well before I sprouted pimples and has been in solitary for almost 30 years. I can’t even imagine the thought of any human being locked in solitary for so long – it utterly defies comprehension. Murderers and child molesters don’t serve sentences as long. I was told by someone visiting another prisoner in Wakefield prison that the child murderer Ian Huntley is free to walk around the visitors’ area while families are visiting. Yet Charlie is escorted to and from his cell chained like an animal.

Charlie now spends his time making art and writing books and poetry. Is he a danger to society? I doubt it very much, although it is difficult to know how he would cope in this mad, crazy world after such a long time caged up. Charlie, you are a diamond, mate. Thank you for your unique contribution, and I sincerely look forward to having that pint with you one day soon.

Paul Knight, you are also a diamond. Paul spent a whole weekend writing three great stories from his time working on the doors in London – all distinctive and interesting and representative of what true door work is all about. Paul is an utter professional in his trade, and my hat goes off to you, buddy. (Sorry, Paul, but we can only use two stories this time – but the third will go into Bouncers and Bodyguards 2!)

You either love him or hate him, but Dave Courtney is also a real diamond. Thanks for entertaining me for a couple of hours at your place with your stories, your thoughts and your comments on the industry. Dave’s ornaments and wall decorations have to be seen to be believed and woe betide any unwelcome visitor.

I have to admit, like Dave, I am very old school and believe that true door work is occasionally about teaching scumbag scrotes who misbehave and cause others distress and inconvenience a fucking hard lesson. In my opinion, we should go back to the good old days when coppers gave scumbags a fucking good kicking – we would then all live in a much better society. But as Dave says, there will never be the quality of fighters on the doors again as there were back in the 1970s and ’80s. There will never be the same characters, the hard cunts whose reputation preceded them.

Steve Wraith, thanks for your stories from your life on the doors up in Newcastle. Steve is another complete professional – hard as fuck but immensely polite, respectful and humble. Steve sat down for a good few hours – admittedly with a good few pints beside him – and wrote away. It is a pleasure to have you by my side, buddy, and it will be an honour to work alongside you one day.

Sadly, at the time of writing, Bob Etchells is still returning to his tiny prison cell every night and being tucked into bed by his freakishly large and somewhat intimidating cellmate. It was way back in my very early 20s, after dropping in and out of numerous dead-end jobs, grubby bedsits and quite a number of exceedingly tarty women’s knickers, that I started working the doors at The Ritzy in Norwich under Bob’s supervision. He was head doorman at the time, and I was a spotty and skinny wimp. I honestly thought being a door supervisor was a bit like being a hotel doorman – opening the door and welcoming people as they came and went – and truthfully didn’t know what a real one did. (I knew what bouncers did, of course, but I didn’t think that they were the same. It wasn’t until it kicked off big time that I realised it was the same job!)

If I hadn’t become a doorman, I wonder what would have become of me – and I wonder where I would be now if I hadn’t stuck it out during those first few months (perhaps even years) of naivety and inexperience? Probably an old, fucked-up, boring-arsed factory worker married to an overweight, nagging ogre. (Come to think of it, maybe things haven’t progressed much after all!) Bob had faith in me during those early months, and I fondly remember the very first time he sent me in to evict someone. I think Bob knew I was a bit of a wanker, and he told me to evict a man-mountain called ‘Pint’. He was called Pint because he apparently loved to attack doormen with a pint glass – but I didn’t know that then. Fulfilling Bob’s orders, I just marched up to Pint and asked him to leave. As he put his glass down and rose above me, I looked up at him and gulped. I was in for a severe bashing, but surprisingly he said, ‘OK mate,’ and left. I later went on to prove myself to Bob and his team in hundreds of battles over the years, but back then I almost puked with fear when I had to eject this man-mountain.

Back in the 1980s and ’90s, Mickey Francis ran Loc19, one of Manchester’s most feared door firms. I first met Mickey in about 1997 when I was asked to run a club called Equivino in Wilmslow, Cheshire. Equivino had a regular Saturday-night promotion called Peruvia, and I was asked to move from Reading to try and sort things out, as the venue and the event attracted almost every gang in the North West. Needless to say, the task was way beyond my capabilities, so I called in Loc19. When I first met Mickey and his partner Steve Brian, I thought that if they couldn’t sort things out, nobody could. They were fearsome. Of course, things were sorted, and I have kept in touch with Mickey ever since.

Thanks also go to Timm Smith at Ronin Security in South Africa. He didn’t have the time to write a full feature for this book but said he would do something for Bouncers and Bodyguards 2. However, he did tell me a few hilarious stories about his (very rare) fuck-ups while protecting the rich and famous. On one occasion, he almost puked over Queen Elizabeth when he opened the door for her after having run next to her vehicle for three and a half kilometres in a suit with a steel-insert bulletproof vest in the midday South African sun. He also almost knocked out a blind guy while working with Nelson Mandela’s bodyguard team. Mandela was opening a school and was giving a speech in a fruit grove. The blind man was due to meet Mandela and was being escorted by Timm towards the podium. Timm looked down and noticed a tree root sticking out from the ground, but he was too late to do anything, and the blind man fell arse over tit. Mandela commented to the red-faced bodyguard that even in his early boxing days he never managed to put someone down so quickly.

Ken Wharfe is an ex-Special Branch protection officer who wrote Diana: Closely Guarded Secret. Ken couldn’t contribute to the book either, as he had just too many other commitments, but he did tell me about the time he looked after Prince Charles. One day, the prince was wandering around the grounds and gardens of Highgrove House, as he frequently liked to do. Ken was keeping a discreet distance from Charles, giving him some solitude and peace. Suddenly, he heard the prince shout, ‘Ken, Ken, quick.’ Ken sprinted over to Charles, who was standing staring down at the ground. It looked as though he had either seen a ghost or there was someone hiding in the bushes, pointing a very large gun up at him.

‘Yes, sir, what is it?’ Ken panted, almost drawing his weapon.

‘What’s that?’ Charles said angrily, pointing down to the ground.

Ken looked down, and after a few confused seconds said, ‘It’s a banana skin, sir.’

‘And what is a bloody banana skin doing down there?’ Charles replied.

Ken didn’t really know what to say and eventually replied, ‘I will have it removed for you, sir.’

According to Ken, Prince Charles isn’t of this planet – he lives in a world of his own, totally oblivious to what is ‘normal’, and cannot relate in any way whatsoever with normal people.

Ken told me another funny story about when Charles was presented with a beautiful new Rolls-Royce. The luxury car manufacturer had spent hundreds of thousands of pounds making an exceptional bespoke vehicle for the prince and was presenting it to him at a special private ceremony. Top managers, key workers and other special guests were invited to attend. The managing director of Rolls-Royce proudly showed Charles the plush, luxurious interior, and the gloss and sheen of the paintwork, but as they walked to the front of the stunning vehicle Charles pointed to it and said, ‘What is that?’

‘It is a Monte Carlo grill, sir,’ the managing director proudly replied.

Charles looked confused and then disgusted. ‘No, don’t want it,’ he said and walked off, leaving the rest of the party standing in amazement.

Last of all, a real big thank you to all the other great contributors. Thank you for your hard work and time, and thank you for your kindness and hospitality – you are all fucking diamonds.

I don’t mind somebody telling me that they will do something for me but then realising that they perhaps just don’t have the ability or the time and changing their mind. I have been in that position before: circumstances change; unexpected things happen. To those people who had the decency to let me know well before the book’s submission deadline that they couldn’t contribute for whatever reason you are also diamonds for not letting me down. Thank you.

But to those who repeatedly said yes to me and then let me down at the last fucking minute, you are, without doubt, utter cunts and should not even be on the planet, let alone in the security and protection industry. I was seriously considering naming and shaming you for all eternity, but then I would be a cunt, too, and I just hate calling myself a cunt. However, you all know who you are. You should not be in any position of trust, and you certainly should not be working on the doors or as part of a close protection team. You deserve everything that befalls you – and I hope it is a fucking huge piano from a seventh-storey window.

Apart from a few hiccups, especially at the last minute, putting this book together has generally been great fun, and I have met some great people. But it has taught me one thing: if you promise to do something for someone, then do it or be honest and say you can’t – don’t just leave things, hoping that they will go away, because, believe me, they won’t!

Stay safe.