The Flying Medallions.The End of.

There are lots of Medallion storys.
The Medallions,my band,but I`ll start with the last one worth mentioning,also the end.
We had been away for the weekend,France and Belgium for a couple of festivals at the end of the Season.September 9/10th 1995.
This Clearwater one was pretty cool.I remember the back stsge area.
Each band had their own tent.These big green army issue ones with a fully stocked picnic table inside.The usual Premium lager(2 crates),6 litres of Coke,2 bottles of wine,60 Bensons,7 pieces of assorted fruit and a 2 course hot meal.Wicked were the riders.All venues/events had to supply us with this shit as part of our contract.
I remember tipping over Rub Ultra`s table with them on it.Can`t remember the reason.
Just me bowling into their tent and then they were on their backs.
Hehehehe.I was a cock.haghahah
The gig was standard issue.I was completely fucked as always.Can hardly remember them.Some more than others.They were losing their edge though.We were just going throught the motions.
This is what I remember.David was our driver/tour manager.Now we were supposed to be staying in a hotel that we had booked.But Mr Stevens was keen to get home.
Mr Stevens has always been sober,so geezer decided to drive.
We get lost big time.We keep ending up in Germany!!!
Keep crossing the border?Fuck knows how.Anyway,all are fucked up in the back and front,More border guards,lots of laughs and pine forest.
At some stage in the night,Stu swaps positions with a now sober David and we are back on track and on our way to England.
The next shit is how I remember it.Everyone has their own version of events.I was fucked and a wreck.This is what I remember.
I am awake.
But it don`t feel like it.
Tell me this is a bad dream.
I am hitting the roof off the bus,then the floor,being smashed to shit by every hard surface my head can find.
Take a milli second to realise we are rolling over and over,flipping over and over at fucking massive speed.
So this is the end.
I seriously remember thinking this.
Pure crazy fuckin mental panic.
No time to be scared
In that split second,all scenarios played out.
Where are we rolling and flipping and spinning to?
Off a cliff?
Into the oncoming lane and into a juggernaut?
Waiting for the impact.
How long ya reckon.
I dunno.
But it went from a milli secnd to a long drawn out painful demolishion derby.
On and fuckin on.
Bang on the head.
Bigger than my poorskull should be able to take and still we screamed.
Metal on concrete
And then the huge collisions stop and it`s just screaching.
Upside down,screaming on the roof,
Waiting for the final impact that`s gonna kill me.
Straight up.
It is gonna happen.
And then noise ends.
Did I faint?
Fuck knows.Looking back,I`d say I was out for a good minute.
Maybe it was the bang on the head.
Whatever.
So I`m on my own in the back of the van.
And then I`m crawling out.
And I`m laughing.A hollow useless laugh,limp but still a laugh.
Coz we`d survived another ridiculous Medallion mishap.
I hear Christian and Jason,over by the hard shoulder,moaning maybe,Pissing?I dunno.
Then I see Stu on the ground.
Poor Stuey`s bust up good.
The boy is fucked.
A fresh skinhead and his head looks like a broken hard boiled egg.
And he`s on his front,and he`s trying to get up.
But man,he is fucked.
Gagging and retching and puking
I know it in my gut.
Get to Stu.
Reassure him.
Contact.Tell him to relax.Tell him he has to keep still.
It was Stuey but he wasn`t there.Was like a zombie on the concete.
And all I can think of is,coat.I will put my coat over him to keep him warm.
A useless fucked up impossible horrific situation to be in.
Your best mate,a broken zombie in the middle of a French motorway.
And then Tasha is calling me.To come to Duggie.
And I don`t wanna coz stu`s fucked.
Where the fuck is Christian and Jason?
I remember thinking that.
Ge over here.
Stay with Stu.To Jason maybe?
And then there`s Duggie.
Another Zombie.This one staring into the abyss.
Making a dreadful racket.A nasty hyperventilating choke.
And he`s deathly white,more than usual and his eye socket is caved in.
For years I put out of my mind the tears pouring down his face.
He was staring into the afterlife.
He knew.
Poor Duggie.
So we did the coat regime again
And we reassureed and we waited.
i remember this.
It was dark.orange street lamps.
A motorcyclist on the opposite lane stops,Turns round and back up the highway the way he`d come.
To a phone I guess.
Then lorries,traffic building up.Thank fuck this happened at 6 oclock on a Sunday morning.