Experience: I’m an 81-year-old crash‑test dummy

I’ve always enjoyed new experiences – I suppose you could say I’m the adventurous type. In my younger days in London, I worked for a travel agent and was posted to Cape Town. I found the evenings alone there quite dull, so I signed up for a first-aid course. The instructor said I wouldn’t have to pay if I played the role of patient and let him demonstrate bandaging techniques on me. I agreed – I’m a fan of amateur dramatics.

Back home in London, I put my skills to good use and volunteered for St John Ambulance. I attended its big first-aid competition and met the volunteers acting as patients. I discovered they were also involved in training for the emergency services, pretending to be casualties in mocked-up disasters. They were strategically positioned in car wrecks, derailed trains and various other emergency scenarios, and pretended to have sustained injuries. I thought it sounded thrilling, and signed up immediately.

Forty years on, at 81, I’ve had more pretend life-threatening injuries than I care to remember. I’ve been shot, stabbed, run over, airlifted from a burning ship, and rescued from more than a thousand mangled vehicles by firefighters using cutting equipment. It’s incredibly rewarding work.

The exercises are designed to be as real as possible without putting anyone in danger – we may have to pretend a ship is sinking, or a plane is on fire, but the cars we are rescued from are real wrecks from the scrapyard. We’re not officially called real-life crash-test dummies, but it’s a way to describe our work to the uninitiated.

It’s vital for emergency services to train in as near-realistic scenarios as possible. If they practise on actors, it’s easier when they’re thrown into chaos for real

The Casualties Union charity, which I volunteer for, was founded to train the civil defence when they were pulling people from rubble during the blitz. Now the scenarios are very different, but the job is just as important. It’s vital for emergency services to train in as near-realistic scenarios as possible. If they practise using their skills on actors, rather than mannequins, it’s easier for them when they’re thrown into chaos for real.

Some of my fellow volunteers have medical backgrounds and have helped me understand how patients may look or act with different injuries. New recruits can feel self-conscious, but I’ve always enjoyed throwing myself into a part. The physical injuries also have to look convincing. My more experienced colleagues taught me how to perfect some realistic-looking injuries with makeup.

Even though I know I’m never in any danger, the scenarios can get the adrenaline pumping. Recently I was on a boat as part of a counter-terrorism training exercise. Suddenly the military climbed onboard, masked and dripping with guns. It got my heart rate going, and drove home how terrifying it must be to be caught up in an actual emergency.

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I’m able to give important feedback, too. Once, I was playing the victim of a knifeman on a rampage inside the Channel tunnel, and had a convincing abdominal prosthetic – it looked as though my guts were hanging out. The paramedics used a drag-along stretcher to transport me to the tunnel’s entrance. I could feel the friction, so I suggested they put a blanket between the person and the stretcher.

The most rewarding exercise I’ve done was on a basic first-aid course. I had a young man who had to treat me for a simulated heart attack. Three weeks later, he tracked me down to thank me – incredibly, his grandfather had suffered a cardiac arrest, and he was able to save him. That was a very special moment.

I’m a senior instructor for the Casualties Union now. I love being able to pass my years of experience on to new recruits. I don’t think my age is any reason for me to slow down. If anything, my hobby keeps me young. I look after my health because I’m planning on doing this until I’m at least 100. I recently went to a school reunion, and I told my old school friends I train firefighters in my spare time. “You lucky devil,” one of them laughed.

I’ll keep being cut out of cars as long as I’m physically able to climb into them. I may be nearly 82, but I don’t see why I should spend my evenings in a bingo hall when I could be being hoisted into a rescue helicopter. This is much more fun.

• As told to Heather Main

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