I'm still friends with the woman I saved in the Tunisian beach attacks
Yet for holidaymaker Allen Pembroke, the thought of leaving injured people on the beach wasn't an option. After ensuring the safety of his wife, he returned, running towards the horror, not away from it.
That selfless decision would save the life of Cheryl Mellor, who'd been shot and lay badly injured on the beach.
Her husband, Stephen, was one of 38 victims gunned down that day on June 26 2015 in the ISIS-inspired attack that remains one of the deadliest Islamist attacks in recent history. Thirty of the victims were British.
Cheryl survived, thanks to the bravery and calm actions of Allen, then an NHS volunteer first-responder from Essex. Two years later, in 2017, he received the Queen's Commendation for Bravery.
But nearly a decade on, Allen, now 71 and working part-time at a university after a successful career pioneering the first electric cabs in London – brushes off the title of 'hero' with typical modesty.
'Given the same set of circumstances – god forbid – I'd do it again,' he says . 'I didn't want the exposure it brought. I just can't stand injustice or people being hurt.'
Sense of unease
Allen and his then-wife Tracy had holidayed twice before at the five-star Riu Imperial Marhaba Hotel in Sousse. They deliberately avoided the school holidays to enjoy the resort at a quieter, more affordable time.
At the start of the holiday Allen had tipped the staffer in charge of the sunbeds so he could bathe near the front of the beach each day.
But something didn't sit right as the holiday neared its end.
'The previous day, I'd said to Tracy, my ex-wife, 'what's he doing?' because the sunbed guy was looking up and down the beach, ducking under umbrellas. His behaviour was really unusual. I'm sure he must have known.
'Now, he wasn't there at all. None of the locals were.
'The vendors who sold fake glasses and cheap tat on the beach had disappeared.
'Every day the Police were up and down the beach, either on their lovely Arab horses or on their quad bikes. You could set your clock by it. Bear in mind this was day six of seven and we'd been there twice before.
'I just did not feel comfortable.'
That feeling proved tragically accurate the next day.
A war zone
'My gut was screaming at me that something wasn't right so when I heard the first shot, I knew it was gunfire. I grabbed Tracy. She said 'It's fireworks'. I said, 'No it's not' and we started to run.
'The bullets were literally whizzing over our heads. They were so close to us you could hear the sound and people were screaming. I could see the gunman with his weapon as I looked over my shoulder but it was for such a brief moment. It was such a blur.'
As others ran to safety, Allen made sure Tracy was secure in their room – then did something few would have dared.
'I threw Tracy into the room and stood there for five or ten seconds and thought I knew I could help,' he recalls. 'I said to Tracy 'I'm going back out'. She said, 'no you're not'. I told her, 'Just stay there, lay on the floor, lock the door, don't open it,' and then I ran from the room before she could say anything else.'
By now, the resort had become a nightmare.
'As I was running back towards the incident there were still people running off the beach but unfortunately, by then, there were deceased bodies on the beach. I started crawling around in the sand on my belly, looking for life. There was blood and bodies everywhere. It was like a war zone.
'I was trying to feel for a pulse but no one was alive. Then I touched this one woman and she sort of murmured. Her face was covered in sand and her hand and forearm was about two metres away from her body, detached. It had been blown off completely.
'I asked her, 'Do you speak English?' My name is Allen. I'm here to help,' she replied, 'yes I'm Cheryl.' I told her, 'I'm here to help you'.'
Life-saving skills
Cheryl had suffered devastating injuries and lost a critical amount of blood. But she was alive – and she could speak. Allen did what he could with the meagre supplies he could find.
After pouring water over her face and giving her a drink, Allen found a scarf which he wrapped her arm up in and, seeing she had a badly injured leg, he wrapped a towel around that too.
To Allen's horror and disgust, as he helped Cheryl he saw a local going through the bags of dead holidaymakers and screamed at him to leave.
'The whole time Cheryl was saying, 'check my husband. Check my husband Stephen'.
'She was laying flat, I was sort of kneeling next to her and I could see he was on the other side of the sunbed and unfortunately I could see he'd been shot several times and he hadn't survived.
'I jumped across after I'd helped her to look at him. I said, 'do you really want to know?' She said, 'please tell me.' I replied 'unfortunately, he's gone.''
Knowing the gunman was still nearby, Allen improvised again to protect her. 'I told her I was going to carry her away from this point but she didn't want to leave. So I told her she needed to 'play dead'. I tipped some sunbeds over there and threw debris over her.
'By then the guy was by the swimming pool and moving onto the main body of the hotel where he was shooting and grenades. It seemed like an eternity at the time even though it was probably 15 to 20 minutes.'
Returning to the hotel room, Allen was hit by another shock.
'I went back to the room I'd left Tracy in and I was banging on the door but she wasn't there. She'd left a note which said she was scared and that she'd gone to reception where I later found her.'
Time is a healer
Time, Allen says, has helped him process what happened.
'I've had, in the past, a few dreams about it but I compartmentalise things,' he explains. 'I've always been very good at sort of putting things in boxes and closing the lid and that's exactly what I did. I buried it.'
He and Tracy never returned on holiday together. They have since divorced. Despite the trauma, Allen says he never needed counselling – and didn't seek compensation.
'There is one thing that sticks in my mind from that day – the sight of one of the bodies – but out of respect for the relatives I won't go into detail. I've never taken a penny in compensation, nor would I.'
He takes some small comfort from the fact that extremist Rezgui, a 22-year-old electrical student, was shot dead by police that day – despite wishing the police had done more to help the victims in the first place.
He says: 'I am glad he was killed because he would have gone to court otherwise and I don't know what the penalties are in Tunisia, but if that had been the UK he'd still be alive with his colour TV, cigarettes, getting his conjugal visits – all paid for by the taxpayers, of course.'
What does linger is anger – particularly towards TUI UK, the tour operator.
Like the families of many of the victims, Allen believes they were responsible for safety and security breaches at the hotel, which the company has always denied.
After the attack, they settled with some of the families out of court, reaching a settlement 'without admission of liability or fault'.
Allen insists: 'TUI abdicated all responsibility and for that, I feel they have blood on their hands. Had TUI intervened and told people there had been another incident shortly before at a museum people would have had a choice as to whether to go.'
Ongoing friendship
His friendship with Cheryl, however, remains intact – and deeply meaningful. He says: 'For the first two or three years we would ring or text.
'I find a lot of peace in riding my motorbike and last summer I drove down to the south of Cornwall to have lunch with her. She sent me a lovely, very personal, letter. It was absolutely wonderful and one that I will cherish and keep forever.
'We always send a Christmas card. We will never forget each other and I'm sure we will remain friends but time does heal.'
In a new documentary on Prime Video called Surviving The Tunisia Beach Attack, Allen – one of several survivors who share their stories – reads out that very letter.
'You put your own life at risk to come and help me and my husband, even though shots were being fired,' Cheryl writes.
Allen downplays it all. 'I wish I could have done more.' Though retired from the NHS, after losing colleagues and relatives during Covid, Allen hasn't stopped helping others. Just six weeks ago, he crossed traffic in his car to shield an elderly woman who'd fallen into the road. He then waited three hours with her for an ambulance to come.
His sister, he says, calls him 'a cat with nine lives'.
'Only, she tells me you've probably already used about seven,' he jokes. 'She says my job in life is to help people.'
And what about luck?
'I don't see myself as lucky in the sense that I've not ever won the lottery or anything. I just don't think it's my time yet. I think there's a lot of good to be done in the world but I don't want anything out of it.
'I'll never return to Tunisia – there are too many other places to see and the Police and locals didn't do enough to help – but I intend to do a lot more travelling on my bike.'
As for that fateful moment on the beach, he says: 'People always ask me 'Why did you go back?' Well, it was just instinctual, I suppose. I went back because it was the right thing to do but the real heroes are the ones like Cheryl. She saw her husband shot, pulled through and was able to go back to work.'
Surviving the Tunisia Beach Attack, Prime Video, May 25, produced by Yeti Television
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Sun
an hour ago
- The Sun
Floor was slick with blood, screams echoed in tunnel, I felt every human emotion, says 7/7 survivor on 20th anniversary
ON the morning of July 7, 2005, journalist Peter Zimonjic and his wife Donna set off from their West London flat to catch a train into the city. It was a seemingly ordinary day, much like any other – but it would turn out to change Peter's life for ever. 7 7 7 For he was about to witness the worst terror incident since the 1988 Lockerbie disaster – and the first suicide bombings that the UK had ever seen. That morning, just before 9am, three al-Qaeda-affiliated terrorists detonated devices on Tube trains in central London. An hour later, a fourth device was set off on a No30 bus near Euston station. The 7/7 bombings killed 52 people and injured over 770. Peter and Donna had caught a train at their local station in Hanwell, near Ealing. But when they had to change trains, Donna chose to take a different route from Peter's, as she was heavily pregnant and thought she would be unlikely to find a seat on the busy Circle Line. So Peter got on without her – and was caught up in one of the deadly explosions that has haunted him ever since. Tomorrow there will be a service of commemoration at St Paul's Cathedral for those who were killed or injured on the city's transport network. But for Peter, 52, it will be too heartbreaking to return. Here, he explains why. MY wife, Donna, was eight months pregnant with our first child on the morning of July 7, 2005. She had slept poorly, which meant so did I. At Paddington I kissed her goodbye, watched her train disappear into the tunnel, and marched to the Circle Line. I stood in the crowded carriage as the train accelerated towards Edgware Road. Around the same time a bomber got on at that station. As his train passed mine in the tunnel, he detonated his bomb. There was a sudden loud smashing noise which reminded me of the metal on metal of one car hitting another in a high-speed accident. I thought two trains had clipped one another as they passed in the tunnel. The thought of it being a bomb was an alien one. When the emergency lighting returned in the carriage, smoke was beginning to sting our senses. 'Clothes shredded' A family nearby comforted their terrified children. A man to my left grasped at the sealed doors to escape. Panic spread. From the carriage behind, a person asked for help. When a man in front of me moved towards the calling voice, I followed. The coach on the parallel track lay in darkness, but through the sliding doors we could see a leg and an arm wiggling into our train. The limbs belonged to a man trying to force his way through a hopelessly narrow crack in the doors — his clothes shredded, his skin dripping with blood, his face frantic. 7 7 The man I'd followed into that carriage, who I would later learn was named Tim Coulson, worked with me in a vain attempt to release the door. We smashed the window and jumped across the track into the darkened carriage of the neighbouring train. I climbed through the window frame and slid on a floor that was slick with blood. Bodies, some moving, some frozen, lay strewn about the dim carriage. Screams echoed through the tunnel, all pleading for help. Some were close, some seemed very far away. All were filled with a deep terror. It was a sound I'd not heard before or since. Stepping back and looking down the carriage, I could see a man in a suit trying to revive a woman lying prone on the carriage floor, her clothes almost blown off, with chest compressions. The outcome of that effort had been decided long before he got there. My heart raced, my breathing shortened, my head swelled — I didn't know what to do next. I was experiencing every human emotion at once — I was overwhelmed, incapable, impaired. I felt a hand on my leg, and when I looked down I saw a man lying on his back. He pointed below his waist where I could see he only had one leg. The stump that remained had been tied off with the remnants of a white collared shirt. I took off my suit jacket, folded it and put it under his head. I took off my shirt and ripped it into bandages, strengthening the tourniquet. For more than an hour I lurched through the carriage looking for people I could help, feeling that whatever I did was not enough. When we finally walked through the tunnel into daylight, I phoned Donna. I did not know if she was the victim of another bomb on another train. For 20 years I've lived my life trying to only think of the terror of that day on its anniversary Peter Zimonjic When I heard her voice I broke down for the first time. She had thought it was some kind of fault or disruption. When I told her it was a terror attack, she kicked into survival mode and helped me get home. I wrote an account of my experiences that ran in the Sunday papers immediately following the attacks. A man named Andrew Ferguson who recognised my description of him, of his efforts to help save people that day, reached out to me and we went for a pint. It was like meeting a lost brother. Help people connect For the Tube staff and the emergency service workers, the bombings happened at their place of business, alongside colleagues. But the passengers were all strangers, alien to one another. I set out to fix that and created to help people connect and fill in the blanks of the day. Many became the subject of my book: Into The Darkness: An Account Of 7/7, a retelling of the day we were trapped in the hellish scenes together. When I moved back to Canada two years later, Tim and his wife Judy came to stay with us and over the years we kept in touch. When I flew back for the tenth anniversary of the attack, they sat right behind us in St Paul's Cathedral. We embraced and smiled, so happy to see one another alive and well again. 7 7 For 20 years I've lived my life trying to only think of the terror of that day on its anniversary. The grandest resistance to that horror and death, I have always felt, is to live and to find joy, to love my wife and daughter Anja, now 20, born two weeks after the bombs, and my son Jakob, now 18. As this anniversary approached, I decided not to come back to London to mark the occasion. I wanted to, but I couldn't. Earlier this year the world lost Tim. I wouldn't be able to sit in St Paul's and feel that empty space behind me. The July 7 bombings taught me life is fleeting — which is one thing to know and another to really feel in your bones. Marked by the horror of the day, I was fortunate not to have faced the terrible injuries some survivors have had to bear, or the unfathomable loss of loved ones that others still live without. Most fortunate was that I was able to walk out of that tunnel and into the arms of my wife, that I was able to witness the birth of my children, that I was able to grasp the sunlight and pull myself out of that tunnel to live and love and survive. I GOT ABUSE DUE TO MY MUSLIM FAITH WHEN the first Tube bomber set off his device on the eastbound Circle Line train between Liverpool Street and Aldgate, Muslim passenger Mustafa Kurtuldu was sitting in the next carriage. After the blast he had an agonising 45-minute wait for emergency services to lead him to safety – and then went on to receive abuse because of his religion. Mustafa, now a designer, said: 'My bag was searched after we were rescued from the Tube, and when I was outside it was searched again after an officer asked my name. 'I sat next to a Spanish guy while I was being transported to hospital on a bus, but I felt as though he was treated differently to me and was given more sympathy. I was only 24 years old and had the burden of being an 'unelected official' for the Muslim community. 'I had the anxiety of explaining that I wasn't the 'bad guy'. 'In the weeks following the bombings I was attacked at knifepoint, and was made to condemn the attacks as a Muslim. 'If someone is a victim of any other kind of crime, they wouldn't be asked to condemn it. 'It's so irrational. You are held to a higher level of accountability. 'It still happens. I was on a flight back from Canada and was pulled to the side with other Asian men. 'When the flight attendant saw I was in business class, she apologised, so I asked if terrorists don't travel business class. It's ridiculous.' And 20 years on, Mustafa is still suffering. He added: 'I used to go to the memorial in Hyde Park and break down. 'I had such survivor's guilt. It has seriously affected me. 'Over time, you learn to pretend that it doesn't impact you. I tried to talk to others about it but people don't understand.'
Reuters
6 hours ago
- Reuters
UK police arrest over 20 supporters of now banned Palestine Action group
LONDON, July 5 (Reuters) - British police arrested over 20 people on suspicion of terrorism offences after they showed support for the newly banned Palestine Action group in London, officials said on Saturday, hours after the proscription came into effect. The government moved to ban Palestine Action under anti-terrorism laws last month after its activists broke into a Royal Air Force base and damaged two planes in protest against what the group said was Britain's support for Israel. Late on Friday, the campaign lost an urgent appeal against the parliamentary decision to proscribe it as a terrorist organisation, with the ban coming into force from midnight. Under UK laws, offences include inviting support, expressing approval, or displaying symbols of a banned group and are punishable by up to 14 years in prison and/or a fine. Britain has proscribed 81 groups under anti-terrorism laws, including Hamas, al-Qaeda and ISIS. On Saturday, supporters gathered in Parliament Square in Westminster, some holding placards that said "I OPPOSE GENOCIDE. I SUPPORT PALESTINE ACTION." Sky News footage showed some being led away in handcuffs from a statue of Indian independence hero Mahatma Gandhi in the square, as they shouted their support. United Nations experts have accused Israel of carrying out "genocidal acts" against Palestinians in the conflict in Gaza, which began after Palestinian militant group Hamas attacked Israel on October 7, 2023. Israel has repeatedly dismissed such accusations. Palestine Action has targeted Israel-linked companies in Britain in its protests, with interior minister Yvette Cooper saying that violence and criminal damage have no place in legitimate protest and that the group's activities justify proscription. Critics of the decision, including some United Nations experts and civil liberties groups, have argued that damaging property does not amount to terrorism. At another protest on Saturday, the police arrested five pro-Palestine protesters from the Youth Demand group who threw red paint over a truck involved in London's Pride parade and glued themselves to the vehicle. The parade has since resumed.
The Independent
6 hours ago
- The Independent
More than 20 arrests at protest in support of Palestine Action after UK ban comes into effect
More than 20 people were arrested Saturday on suspicion of terrorism offenses after protesters gathered in central London in support of Palestine Action. The protest in Parliament Square came hours after the pro-Palestinian activist group was banned in Britain under anti-terrorism laws. The group lost a last-minute court battle late Friday seeking to block the British government's ban, which came into effect at midnight. Activists and their supporters have said the group is non-violent and advocates civil disobedience, and condemned the government decision as authoritarian. A small group of protesters stood beneath a statue of Mahatma Gandhi and held placards reading, 'I oppose genocide. I support Palestine Action.' Police surrounded them and several people were taken away. One woman seen lying on the ground in handcuffs was carried by officers to a police van. 'Palestine Action is a proscribed group and officers will act where criminal offences are committed,' the Metropolitan Police said in a statement. The designation as a proscribed group under the Terrorism Act 2000 means that membership of the group and support of its actions a criminal offense punishable by up to 14 years in prison. Some 81 organizations are already proscribed under the UK act, including Hamas and al-Qaida. The government moved to ban Palestine Action after activists broke into a Royal Air Force base in Brize Norton in Oxfordshire, England, on June 20, damaging two planes using red paint and crowbars in protest at the British government's ongoing military support for Israel in its war in Gaza. Police said that the incident caused around 7 million pounds' ($9.4 million) worth of damage. Four people between 22 and 35 years old were charged Thursday with conspiracy to commit criminal damage and conspiracy to enter a prohibited place for purposes prejudicial to the interests of the U.K. No pleas were entered at Westminster Magistrates' Court in central London and the four are scheduled to appear on July 18 at the Central Criminal Court.
