Read ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold Online

Authors: J Murison,Jeannie Michaud

ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold (26 page)

BOOK: ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold
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‘Damn it.’  He swore.

‘I’ve had about enough of this, my heads beginning to spin.’

‘Just a little longer.’  He chided me.

‘It might have escaped your attention, but I didn’t have a little longer, I was lucky if I had five minutes to make up my mind.’

‘Good point but….’

‘Look if I give you another way round it, will you leave me be.  Saying that it will cost you HQ if that’s acceptable.’

He mulled it over.  ‘Will it save the rest of the battalion?’

‘Possibly.’

‘OK.’

‘You hide.’

‘Hide!’

‘Aye, hide, pick a few volunteers, get them to hide out with the position, use the guns to take out the Op.  Then collapse the sleeping bays over the rest.  When the enemy reaches the position the first man engages them then legs it.’

‘Yes, I see, distracting them from looking too hard.’

‘That’s right hopefully the first wave takes up hot pursuit and the second assumes the trenches have already been cleared by the first.’

He seemed impressed, ‘clever.’

‘You then have two options, at a pre-designated time you dig yourselves out either an hour or so later or at night.  Then follow this route down, cross the river….’

‘And hit them in the rear causing havoc with their command and support units, yes it could work.’

‘Aye but costly, I reckon very few would survive.’

 

That set him off again.  By the time we got home I was reeling, not from the drink, but from the mental effort.  We finally got to sleep with scenes reminiscent of the Walton’s accompanied by a lot of laughing and joking.  A burden shared doesn’t automatically halve it, but it can lighten the spirit a little.

 

 

CHAPTER 29

 

I was the first to arrive at our new home on Monday morning.  We had procured it on the Thursday afternoon and it was all that was left of the old camp above Glencourse.  It too had been due for demolition, but Sam had the proper papers for it and we were able to save it for ourselves, much to the disdain of the DOE man showing us round.  Fortunately for us he was an Aberdeen supporter and by the end of the day, we got more out of them than most probably had in the last five years. 

 

The head DOE man met me at the door.  ‘We’re almost finished Sir, another hour should see it.’

‘That’s OK, plenty time they shouldn’t arrive until dinner time.’

‘Would you like a quick tour?’

‘Yes please.’

 

It was a long one story-building split into two parts by the ablutions.  It wasn’t older than ten years and built in the new style with solar panels and batteries to supplement the under floor heating.  Even then, it had been considered too expensive to keep on.  You could see why, the second you walked into one of the rooms.  It was half again the breadth of a normal army building.  It had been exclusively designed to house visiting officers and their equipment, a showpiece for the tattoo.

He took me into the left hand side.  It had been gutted, the floor coverings replaced by a green marbled linoleum.  The long counter had been removed and replaced by a new one.  The walls were startlingly white; it already smelt like a hospital ward, he noticed my nose wrinkle.  ‘Special paint, we were lucky to get it.  The shelving arrives today, everything else you’ve to get direct.’

 

I followed him through to the ablutions.  Normal, but the living quarters weren’t.  A red shag pile carpet and brass fittings glared at me.  ‘This isn’t army issue.’  I gasped.

He laughed.  ‘It was due for refurbishment before it was decided to knock it down.  We still had all the gear, so we just put it in.’

I grinned, ‘that was good of you.’

He shrugged.  ‘I never paid for it.  I need you to sign some forms, we could do it after a cuppa in the cookhouse, it’s open.’

 

The old cookhouse was part of the old camp and probably a hundred years old, it looked like a tiny version of a church.  Some workers were just finishing sealing fresh concrete beneath the roof that now stretched between the two buildings.  ‘That will take four days to dry.  I’d leave it a week before you put any vehicles on it.’

‘OK thanks.’

A wash point had been added and a special bay for scrubbing and sterilizing stretchers with both hot and cold water.  They had done a brilliant job and I told them so. 

 

The Cookhouse had received a makeover too.  I recognised the recently demoted chef immediately.

‘Oh no, no you bastards,’ Then he saw my Pips and cracked to attention.  ‘I’m sorry sir, I never realised.’

He turned a little pale while I contemplated him long and hard.  ‘Listen to me corporal and listen hard, I’m giving you an opportunity to walk right now, no questions asked, do you understand me.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘There are certain aspects to the job that we’re doing here that will be top secret and I want no malcontents, clear?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Good, if you decide to stay, I’ll tell you now, if I find so much as a stray hair in the stew I’ll staple you upside down to the back door by your balls and leave you to the fucking crows, do you understand?’

‘Perfectly.’

‘Good, now this should be a cushy number.  I don’t give a fuck what you do as long as there are three squares a day on the table.  We are a bunch of fussy bastards though, and were never all that fond of army food so don’t be surprised if you end up getting cooking lessons.  On the other hand, if you want to experiment, I think most of us will try anything once.  On the down side, if were out on the hills until one o’clock in the morning we’ll expect something hot waiting for us when we get back or at least something left out, OK.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Choose.’  It was a bit abrupt but I didn’t really give a fuck.

I could see his mind ticking over, ‘well, eh, there’s an old duty room in the back, could I move into it?’

‘Your cookhouse, please yourself.’

‘In that case, I’m in.’

‘Welcome aboard.’  We shook hands.  ‘Now how about a coffee.’

‘We don’t have any - tea.’

‘Fuck the tea, I’m a coffee man, remedy that by tonight.  If it’s instant, Nescafe original, percolated, anything as long as it hasn’t been freeze-dried.  Get it even if you have to steal it, OK.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Oh, if ye have to buy it, I’ll give you the money.’

 

I spent the next ten minutes signing documents without reading them much to the Doe’s delight.  Although I have to admit, I noticed one or two requisition forms were blank.

The MT was next and the place was jumping.  I handed in the vehicle I’d been driving and signed for the three new ones that were parked outside.  To all intent, they looked identical to every other motor there, but we were getting something completely different. 

‘I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.’  The MTO explained as we inspected the vehicles.

It was obvious they were brand new, and hard backed instead of soft but that wasn’t anything unusual.  ‘Different paint job,’ I suggested hopefully.

‘No, look closer at it.’

I did olive green and black with specks of purple.  Inspiration of heather or some bloody thing.  It wasn’t until I touched it that I realised what he was getting at.  ‘This isn’t paint.’  I gave it a knock.  ‘It’s no metal either or fibreglass, what the hell is it?’

‘I don’t know; some kind of plastic, whatever it is they aren’t saying.  From anything but a few feet away they look like normal one tonne’s but they’re actually a little wider and lower, look at this.’  He dragged me round the vehicle pointing out specific differences.  It was the inside that surprised me.  It wouldn’t have shamed a forty grand Merc.  He insisted on taking me for a spin before he would hand it over.  My god it was quiet, even I was impressed.  I decided to think what would happen when that bunch of nutters got their hands on them.  Well we’d soon find out if they were jock proof.

 

By 12 o’clock, I was well sorted out.  I had had to draw bedding from the main camp and the rest would have to do the same later, they wouldn’t let me sign for everyone.  Buff, Ali and Nommy drove back together and arrived first.

‘Prezi for ye Murison.’

‘Whit, did you go over to my caravan and get my gear.’

‘Better than that.’

He grabbed a towel from the end of my bed and went back outside leaving Ali and Nommy to glower at me with their arms folded.

‘This place is fair plush now, eh.’  I ventured to no avail.

Buff came back in with the towel draped over a large object and dumped it on the table with a clatter I recognised.  ‘Ye hinná?’  Buff whipped off the towel to reveal one very angry cat.  ‘Fit did ye take him down here for? We can’t keep a cat.’

The thrown towel caught me across the face.  ‘The farmer said if ye don’t take him, he’ll shoot it.  It won’t eat or anything.  Every time he goes near it, it attacks him.’

‘Bollocks, it kens him fine.’

 

‘Nah Jim,’ Nommy interrupted, ‘He took us down to your caravan himself.  As soon as he put his head through the door it went for him.’

‘An us,’ Ali put his two cents worth in.

 

‘Have you been a bad boy,’ I accused to hide my amusement, my reply was a fearsome hiss.  ‘Oh ye fucking think so do ye?  Think your bloody hard do ye, well come on then.’  It was a sentence I’d used since he was a kitten.  Predictably, he flew into frenzy.  ‘Let him out will ye Buff.’

‘Fuck off, I’m not…’

‘Just let him out will ye.  It’s me he’s after.’

 

As Buff popped the catch, I stood back to gain some room and a furry ball of fury erupted from the cage.  I sidestepped and he flew past, the other three ran for the door.  I caught him on his next pass and roughed him up.  He answered with claws and teeth to break my hold and dashed round the room under the beds to try and get behind me.  Our playful sparring didn’t last long; he jumped onto my bed and flumped.  I was immediately concerned, he could keep up this kind of play for days when he was in the mood.  ‘What’s the matter boy?’  I ran my hand over him, his chest was heaving and wee heart pounding.  ‘Christ, I can feel his ribs.  Buff did ye take any of his food with ye?’

‘Hale bag ó it out in the motor and his bowl, want me to nip out and get it?’

‘Aye please mucker.  Ali any chance ó ye nipping over to the cookhouse for some milk, it’s open.’

‘No bother Jim.’

 

I picked him up and carried him to the door where I fed him by hand for a while.  I gave him a drink of milk then laid him back down on the end of my bed to sleep.  ‘How the hell did ye get him in to that thing?’

They proceeded to tell me the hilarious events leading up to boy’s capture.  The cook came in.  ‘Dinner’s up.’

Buff looked at me inquisitively.  ‘It’s sorted.’  I answered his unasked question.  The rest arrived while we were eating and joined in, all except Abie who arrived with a flourish.  A long piercing scream stopped the chatter.  I was half way to my feet when Abie came crashing through the door with Boy hard on his heels.  A flash of paws and Abie tripped.  The cat landed on his buttocks and claws executed a quick revenge.

Abie howled, I roared, ‘Boy leave him alone.’  The cat came away from him with an angry swish of the tail then decided to investigate all these exciting smells.  ‘Whit the hell did ye dee to him Abie?’

‘Fuck all, I had a slash flung my hold all onto a bed, then the next thing I ken, that fucking animal was after me.’

The room stunned into silence rocked with laughter.  Boy in the meantime was standing on the tray nest facing down the cook, between them the last chicken drumstick.  The duel for ownership commenced, fish slice versus claws, no contest, the fish slice clattered to the floor.  Boy retrieved his prize and dashed under my chair with it.  Abie had to put to with a chop.  ‘Fancied a bit ó chicken,’ he moaned.  Buff, Nommy and Ali showed him their war wounds, while boy happily lay between my feet munching and crunching through his piece of chicken.

‘Fit the fuck is it anyway?’

‘It’s a cat,’ I answered exasperated.

‘I’ve seen smaller dogs.’  So had I, but that was a fact I was inclined to ignore.  It started a debate anyway, mainly on his size, he was half again the size of a normal full-grown tom and he was still young.

I was interrogated.

‘He was the only Tom in a litter of three.  His sisters were a’ tiny compared to him but they a’ went rogue.’

‘Whit’s that?’  Asked Gigs.

‘Wild, feral, their owners let them out and they disappear for longer and longer each time, then eventually they just don’t come back.’

 

‘Aye, ye get that up our way, don’t ye Jim.’

‘Aye Nommy, there’s a fair bit ó it happening now a’ days.’

He nodded knowledgeably, ‘especially if their mother’s mating with wild cats, d’ye think his mother was mating with one of the big blacks?’

‘I don’t know.  The house he came from isn’t too far from the countryside.  I would definitely say there was black in him somewhere, but none of the litter was black and he was the darkest being tortoiseshell.’

 

The cook appeared at my shoulder.  ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to remove the cat Sir, hygiene regulations.’  He seemed a little nervous.

‘I understand that completely Cpl, but he has a tendency to please himself, so you’d better tell him.’  I pointed at the floor.

‘But!’

‘But what, if you put it nicely to him, he’ll listen.’  What happened next was a comedy of errors.  His first mistake was getting down on his hands and knees calling him dirty.  The second, trying to grab him.  I was alerted by his squeal; Boy had pounced and was holding him off balance by the noise much to everyone’s delight.

‘Let him go,’ I poked Boy between the ears; he let go and hissed at me.  ‘Don’t fucking start,’ I warned him.  ‘You could always try a compromise,’ I addressed the cook, who was now sitting back on his haunches gingerly touching his beak.

‘Like what?’

‘Well how about he stays down this end and doesn’t go beyond the hot plates.’

‘I don’t know sir; he’s still not supposed to be in here.’  He stood up.  ‘I suppose it’s better than nothing though.’

‘Ye hear that boy, stay down this end.  Go past that big silver bit and Ill kick your cunt in.’

‘That’s asking him nicely?’ asked the cook dubiously.

‘Oh fuck aye, he understands that don’t ye boy?’  He looked at where I was pointing, back at me, yowled, then went back to his piece of chicken. 

 

That was the last we saw of him until Sam and Reginald arrived.  Sam took a seat across from me chatting gaily with everyone.  She let out a delighted squeal.  As if by magic, Boy had appeared on the table by my side.

BOOK: ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold
11.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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