A police officer has spoken of the “pinch in the stomach” she felt as the full severity of the July 7 terrorist bombings dawned on her, 20 years after the devastating attacks.
Superintendent Anna Bearman, then a 23-year-old police constable on the Metropolitan Police response team, was initially told of a possible fire at King’s Cross. However, upon being diverted to Russell Square and witnessing dozens of injured people fleeing the station, Ms Bearman recalled a “pinch” feeling as the reality of the situation sunk in.
She said: “On July 7, it was a nice summer’s morning and everyone was elated because we had just won the bid for the London Olympics the day before.
“We were on duty and heard that there was confusion at King’s Cross and that perhaps there’d been a fire, so we made our way down to the train station. As we were by Euston station, we were asked to divert to Russell Square, and we were told that there were injured people fleeing both stations.
She recounted: “I remember that being the moment when I thought that it wasn’t a fire and it was something more sinister. It was a pinch in the stomach moment.”
The four constables in the vehicle fell silent as the gravity of the situation became clear, and upon arrival, they were met with the sight of dozens of people running out of Russell Square station, many with injuries. She recounted the harrowing experience: “There were walking wounded and a sense of hysteria and panic, but we couldn’t stop and speak to them because we had to get into the tunnel to help those who couldn’t walk out.
“We walked about a mile on the tracks and then we carried one person out who had lost a lower limb, as there were no stretchers, and we took them out a mile back to Russell Square.”
After they had evacuated a second casualty and were making their way back for a third time, they received word that all survivors had been rescued, prompting them to switch focus to sourcing oxygen for the injured at the impromptu triage centre.
Ms Bearman vividly remembers: “After that, the main task was directing and reassuring members of the public, trying to keep them calm in the moment.
“Later on, I saw that my trousers and my legs were absolutely blood-stained, and that was when the shock of the whole day set in.
“The 20-year anniversary is really important to remember the people who have been affected, the lives lost but also their families and loved ones.”
Dr Peter Holden, a Derbyshire GP, was 50 years old during the bombings.
His presence in London on July 7 was unplanned; he was summoned to a meeting with a government minister at BMA House in Tavistock Square due to his role as deputy chairman of the BMA GP committee.
It was near this location that the fourth bomb detonated on a bus rerouted following the attacks on Aldgate, Edgware Road, and Russell Square Tube stations.
Dr Holden, who assisted many on the fateful day, recounted: “I realised it was really serious when the Royal London helicopter was hovering overhead for a considerable length of time.
“And then I just turned around to my colleague Mary Church, who’s the chair of the committee, we heard a bang and then everything just went salmon pink.
“It was something that shook the ground. We were three floors above where the bomb on the bus went off and we looked out of the window and there was a white plume of smoke and the tree canopy had gone.
“When I got downstairs, there were people being brought in on collapsible table tops used for conferences as makeshift stretchers.”
With his expertise in emergency care, Dr Holden described how he led 15 doctors to create an impromptu triage centre. He remains proud of his team’s response, acknowledging the hard decisions about prioritisation they faced during the crisis.
Dr Holden reflected: “There was a complete range of people – there were Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, those of no particular faith.
“I think there were eight different nationalities from all over the world – medicine is really an international practice.
“But we had to leave two individuals we called P1 expectants, those deeply unconscious where medical intervention is unlikely to be effective, and you have to place them with someone so they’re not alone.
“It was the most difficult decision of my life and it still haunts me, because there’s a humanity in delivering care.
“It was a terrible day, but I was thankful that I was there and could help people.”
