More Birds Than Bullets: My Life with Birds

By Geoffrey McMullan

‘More Birds Than Bullets’ is not just as the title suggests, there is more to it than that, it can be seen as a metaphor for life’s experiences. I struggled with how I should go about writing it, should it be factual, or should it be like a novel? In the end I decided to write about my experiences from my time in the army throu

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pathfinder-UK
• Release date: Jan 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9780957618138

Geoffrey McMullan

Geoffrey served in the Royal Regiment of Artillery for 22 years and 4 days, retiring as a Staff Sergeant. A keen birder and conservationist he was awarded the British Empire Medal by the Queen for his services to Conservation and Anglo-German Relations by establishing a Nature Reserve in Germany which has been in existence for over 27 years.

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CHAPTER 1

Woodpeckers

Ican still see it now, just as if it was yesterday. Aged eleven, I was sitting at the breakfast table looking out of the window in an all-boy’s boarding school. It was a summer morning, the rain had stopped, and I was not anticipating a good day, or even a different day. Boarding school was not a happy place.

Then something caught my eye, as I watched it driving its beak deep into the lawn; I could see a bright yellow rump on a green body with black, white and red head markings. It was my first ever woodpecker, actually it was the first time that I had even noticed birds. It took me to another world, a world that was safer than the one I was living in.

There were no unreasonable rules, no labels like ‘maladjusted’, no bloodied nose delivered by a teacher, no food being forced into my mouth because I did not like it and no cat o’ nine tails at the hands of the Principle. When you receive the cat o’ nine tails you hardly feel it, but it was very painful when you tried sitting down afterwards. I guess that is where the expression comes from; you will not be able to sit down for a week afterwards. I am not sure that it lasted for a week, but certainly it did for a few days. This nine-tailed whip originated as an implement for severe physical punishment, notably in the Royal Navy and the British Army.

It was not until many years later that I realised the comfort I derived from seeing the Green Woodpecker on the lawn that day. I felt safe in what was an extremely abusive environment. The amazing colours, the shape and the movement of its body, were pure magic to me.

I believe this was the beginning of my love affair with birds, particularly with Woodpeckers. Oddly enough it was a teacher who was German, that got me interested in birds. He encouraged me to join the Young Ornithologists Club (YOC), which was the junior wing of the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSBP). This was the very same man who had grabbed me around my neck from behind, dragged me from my desk and strangled me until I was close to passing out. I think it was because I called him a fat German.

I would often head for the woods behind the large gardens of this stately home, to gain access to the hide, which we built out of an old chicken coop. I would sit watching the birds, having a fag (cigarette) that I had taken from a packet I had hidden behind a brick, in the longest garden wall I have ever seen.

Back then there were several ways to get cigarettes, one was I would play up in class, and as a punishment I got sent to work with the gardeners who would give me a packet of Woodbines. I have to say, working with them was not a punishment as I always found time to watch birds in the garden. The other way was to sneak out at night and make our way to the local woods, once there we changed out of our school uniform, into civilian clothes and hid our uniform in bags for when we returned.

Sometimes we would hear Tawny Owls calling as we changed. Three of us would head for Churchdown, a nearby small village and here we would raid the wooden cigarette machine. The trick we used in order to get the fags was, to pay for one packet, then having removed that packet we would hold a matchstick on top of the drawer and slowly close it. This allowed the next packet to drop down without the drawer locking. We would take a few packets, well okay a bit more than a few.

On one occasion, as we returned, we saw a car parked along an overgrown track that led up to the school. As we walked past it, we noticed that the windows were all steamed up, we knew the car belonged to a male teacher and with him was the female teacher who was on shift that night too. In the morning I got into a dispute with the teacher concerned, I let it out of the bag that I had seen him in his car up to no good. I was rewarded with a bloody nose, having been punched by the teacher. After, leaving boarding school, birding was to take a back seat for a few years while I attended art collage. I later joined the British Army and did my training at Woolwich.

It was not until my posting to Germany in 1975 that I reconnected with birds, and it was here I encountered my second woodpecker.

This bird made a lasting impression on me and became my number one bird. I was out walking in the woods close to my house in Ummeln, Bielefeld, when I heard an unusual and unique sound.

It came closer and closer, I looked up and there flying right above me was a magnificent bird. It was simple in colour but quite powerful in its presence, as big as a crow with a strong looking ivory coloured beak standing out from its all-black plumage, on its head was a bright red cap. It was a Black Woodpecker and the unique sound I heard was its flight call. Having lain dormant, the phoenix within was once again reignited and my interest in birds has been burning ever since.

One of my favourite moments with this woodpecker was when I was in a beech forest. The large trees were well-spaced apart, this afforded excellent views to observe the Black Woodpecker in flight. As I walked, in the distance I heard its flight call reverberating as it travelled deep from within the forest on the early fresh crisp morning. As it made its way towards me, the other bird songs seemed to fade away in the presence of this stunning bird. There was something very special about being the only person to witness this woodpecker in that moment.

Recently, I was asked why it is that I get extremely excited about seeing woodpeckers and yet when I see a different new species of bird my excitement does not seem as strong. As we talked about this, I came to a realisation where I was able to connect my feelings of immense joy back to the time, I was sitting at the breakfast table in boarding school.

We were on exercise (manoeuvres) in the hinterland of the German countryside; our job was to coordinate the regiments fire missions; therefore, it was important to maintain communications. One morning at dawn, I left the Fire Direction Centre (FDC) to check on the 27ft Larkspur telescopic radio mast. It was a horrible thing to work with especially during the winter, there were no hydraulics on this baby, not like today. Often without warning, it would collapse in on itself; and if you were not quick enough it would take chunks out of your hands, a painful experience indeed.

With the mast sorted, I returned to the FDC. The sun had just come up, its rays penetrating between the trees warmed my body, taking the edge off the cold I was feeling. As I approached the FDC, I became aware of movement high up in a Beech Tree directly above our Command Post (CP). I looked up and saw a large woodpecker’s nest hole. I could see a blue stain on the bark directly below the hole and I knew that it had been caused by the woodpecker’s tail rubbing against the bark as it excavated its nest hole. It had to be a Black Woodpecker's nest, going by the size of the hole, and the distance the stain was from it. I was about to enter the CP when I looked up again and spotted an ivorybill, glistening in the sunlight as its beak protruded from the hole, it was indeed a Black Woodpecker. Judging by its short-repeated calls of ‘kiyak’, it was clear we were disturbing it with our vehicle parked directly under its nest and a 500-Watt generator making a lot of noise.

Even though we had dug it into the ground to dampen the sound and reduce the distance it would travel from our location. At that time, I was a gunner (private), and even though I thought he might rip my head off for having the audacity to speak to him, I approached the Adjutant (a captain), the officer in charge of the FDC. I asked him if we could move the FDC. Startled, he looked at me and asked why.

I showed him the agitated bird with half of its body now hanging out of the nest while still calling frantically. I said that the male (males sit throughout the night) could abandon the eggs or young if we stay here. He looked back at me, he paused and then said, We will move after this fire mission. Thank God for that I thought, and true to his word we moved our CP, a variant of the AFV432 (Armoured Fighting Vehicle) within the hour.

Some years later, on my second tour of Germany; I joined a group called Arbeitsgemeinschaft für Spechte (Woodpecker Study Group) and attended a conference at Vosswinkle Wildlife Park on woodpeckers in Arnsberg, Nordrhein-Westfalen.

Here, if we were lucky, we could see seven of what was then ten species of woodpecker in Europe; there are now eleven with the Iberian Green Woodpecker being split from the Green; the Grey-headed and Middle-spotted being specialities in that area. During the evening there were several talks, one was on the Middle-spotted, and the person giving the presentation had done his thesis on this woodpecker. During his talk he made many statements, one of which was that of all the spotted woodpeckers in Europe, the Middle-spotted does not regularly drum. Any drumming that is done is mild and limited to early spring; it’s usually made in response to competition from another male. Both adults do however tap loudly at the nest-hole. He also stated that the bird never goes down to the ground.

The next day, he led a walk to look for woodpeckers, and at one point we saw a spotted woodpecker fly from the ground up into a tree. We located and identified it as a Middle-spotted and he immediately responded to our cries of the fact that this one was on the ground by saying, Clearly this bird has not read my thesis. Bless him, Larf (laugh) I near wet myself.

I recently decided that I would have a bucket list; my aim is to see all the distinct species of woodpeckers in the world. Before travelling I often contact local birders for information on the most productive places to bird because local knowledge is worth its weight in gold. They ask me what I would like to see so I tell them my order of priority which is: woodpeckers and owls followed by endemics, and after that everything else is a bonus. One local birder said it really got them to focus their mind on the best places to visit in order to get maximum return. I tend to aim for the rarer woodpeckers, as the more common woodpeckers will be around.

Neuschwanstein Castle is south-east of Füssen in Bavaria where it stands in the shadow of the Tegelberg mountain. If you look down from the mountain when the mist is thick on the ground, the castle looks like it is sitting on a cloud. The Tegelberg is where I learnt to ski with the army, the exercise was called ‘Snow Queen’.

News arrived at our CP while we were carrying out a communications exercise, prior to deploying to our annual firing camp in the north of Germany. None of the single men wanted to go on a ten day all-expenses paid skiing trip, during firing camp. They would even get the cost of their food and accommodation back, making a saving of about 50DM (Deutschmarks). I said to my Battery Commander (BC) that I would love to go, the BC responded with why don’t you? I reminded him that I was married, and that the exercise was aimed at single personnel, and we had our annual firing camp coming up. He said, do you want to go? I said yes. He replied Done, you’re on it. While the guys were knee deep in mud in the gun positions, feeling cold, wet and pissed off, I had ten days learning to ski for 150DM. I didn’t get a refund for food and accommodation, but I did get to enjoy Bavarian beer and some great birds.

On the first day our instructor took us to the top of the Tegelberg by cable car for a look around. The Tegelberg is in the Ammergau Alps, Füssen and Neuschwanstein Castle are about two kilometres away. While walking around I noticed some wooden ramps hanging over the edge of the mountain. It was a long way down and all I could see were loads of large rocks and treetops. I said, what mad person would ski off these?. The instructor piped up, you idiot, they are for the hang-gliders to launch themselves off. Ever felt like an idiot, I did that day. Between Füssen and Oberammergau where the passion play takes place every ten years, I bagged my first White-backed Woodpecker at a place called Linderhof.

I was heading up the slope on the T-bars for a ski run, when I heard one of my buddies calling out to me. He was pointing skywards, looking up I saw my first Golden Eagle gliding across the sky. I was so taken aback that I fell off the T-bar and, in the process, I took out twenty or more skiers coming up behind me. We had only gone about fifty metres up the slope. As the other skiers were piling on top of me, we became a mass of bodies, with skis and sticks jutting out in all directions and I was frantically trying to get them off me, so I could continue to watch the eagle. To say they were not happy with me would be a real understatement.

As we returned to our billets (living quarters), after a good day’s skiing, I spotted a Lynx in a field near to our hut. As soon as we stopped, I dropped my kit off, grabbed my bins (binoculars) and headed out to find it. I located its tracks and followed them; this was my first attempt at tracking. As I followed the tracks, I discovered a deer kill; I took pictures and sent them to the National Park telling them of my find. I got a reply, which denied that Lynx occurred in that area. Since then I have found out that a population of five to ten Lynxes had been introduced into the Bohemian-Bavarian forest in the 1970s, later they were supplemented with a further eighteen individuals. On my return from tracking the Lynx I watched an Ermine, (a Stoat), in its white winter coat; playing in the deep snow, running under it and reappearing some distance away, it looked around and then disappeared back under the snow again.

I had fun watching its playfulness as I ate my evening meal. Its pelt was used historically in royal robes in Europe, and the term ermine refers to the animal’s white coat.

We would often be deployed on exercise to Eringerfeld, which lay to the north of our camp. It was a nice spring day; I was sitting just inside the edge of a wood enjoying the cool breeze. With our NBC suits on (Nuclear Biological Chemical), we were waiting for our orders to carry out a section attack on an enemy position, which was in the wood on the other side of a clearing. Great Spotted Woodpeckers were drumming all around us, when I heard them drumming, I felt so relaxed and at ease with the world. Eringerfeld is a great area for birding, with Harriers being the most common bird of prey. Then came the order to mask up and prepare to move. Gas mask on, it was very warm in my NBC suit and when the order came to attack, with my weapon I moved rapidly, zig zagging and screaming as I went.

About halfway across, we had to take cover, I jumped into one of the many large holes that were peppered around the clearing. I was in mid-air when I saw a couple getting it together in the hole that I had chosen to take cover in. Landing on top of the man who was on top of the woman; I could see the horror on the lady’s face, her eyes were wide, and she screamed like I had never heard a woman scream before. Meanwhile her man was trying to shake me off his back. As they scrambled to get dressed, some of the other guys followed me into the same crater. The woman was going crazy; her face looked like she had just seen an alien. They were soon up and running away from us, it was all I could do to compose myself; we concluded that they would never do it in nature again.

While serving as a soldier there were countries we were not allowed to go to due to their political climate. After leaving the army these restrictions no longer applied, the leash was gone and off I went. One such country that I visited was the Yemen. While there I hired a lovely man called Yousuf Mohageb as my guide. The first obstacle I had to overcome was on arrival at the airport. Customs wanted to check my bags: on seeing my telescope and bins they became very interested in the nature of my business in their country. Yousuf could see that they were asking me lots of questions and he managed to get to me in the customs area. Quite how he did it I am not sure, but I was glad he did as communication was difficult due to the obvious language risk barrier.

Eventually, they let me go and Yousuf explained what had happened as he quickly rushed me out from the airport. They actually thought that I was some kind of spy! I’d be a very poor one if I was. Yousuf did not want to invite anymore questions, hence beating a hasty retreat from the airport. He said that they found it very strange that someone would want to watch birds. The Arabian Woodpecker was my target bird, it breeds in the montane forests from the south-west of Saudi Arabia to the north-west of Yemen. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to see this woodpecker, and I was not disappointed. I had excellent views of it for three days in a row and not only did I bag a pair of Arabian Woodpeckers on the first day, there was also a Wryneck calling in the background; I love their distinctive call; I could listen to it all day. I even have it as one of my ringtones on my mobile phone: this is so that when I am working in nature with my clients the Wrynecks call blends in better than a typical ringtone does.

During the whole trip we managed to see twelve of the thirteen endemics that occur in the country; the Arabian Wheatear, the Yemen Linnet and the Yemen Serin are among the thirteen. The other obstacle we had to overcome was the abundance of military checkpoints. At one checkpoint I was asked to take my Bergen (backpack) out of the back of the vehicle, stepping out from our vehicle I towered over the guy holding his AK47; he took one look up at me and waved us on. I kind of got the feeling my size put him off checking our vehicle. Bonus.

Many people wonder if Yemen is safe. I guess you need to judge that for yourself. Personally, I found it safe, mainly because Yousuf would not take any risks himself for the sake of his wife and children. He was always very vigilant, taking great care to ensure my safety. The countryside was fantastic, and the people were friendly. They always wanted to know what I was doing; especially the