by Geoff Wolak
‘We don’t have the resources, General.’
Voices were raised, voiced were lowered, opinions taken, plans made, and I remained quiet.
With the Major gone, I said, ‘Intel can do it, sir.’
‘They don’t think so.’
‘They are a bit stretched around the world it seems, but it’s not rocket science, sir.’
‘And your old friends at 14 Intel?’
I was not sure what he meant, or what he knew. ‘More keen than able, sir, but they do have a radio unit, and they could help a great deal – if they’re not already here.’
‘They have a small unit here.’
‘They have some excellent radio boys and girls, sir, and ... not much to do in Northern Ireland right now.’
‘I’ll drag them in, keep them happy.’ He studied me for a moment. ‘14 Intel hint ... that you may have done a job or two for Mi6, a naughty job – not just queers in Riyadh.’
‘For them, for you ... what would be the difference, sir? MOD pays my wages.’
‘We’d not send you on a one way trip.’
‘Not sure about that, sir, it’s all dangerous. And my Major, he’d consider me expendable for the right job.’
‘And does that not bother you?’
‘Risk of the job, sir. That guy on the side of the road may have killed you. Does that not bother you, sir?’
He smiled. ‘It should do, yes. Oh, have you seen the cartoon?’
‘Cartoon ... sir?’
‘One of my officers is a dab hand at cartoons.’ He went next door and fetched an A4 copy of it. It was a caricature of me shouting out a window about having my breakfast disturbed, dozens of gunmen peering up, smoke rising. ‘Pen, sir?’
He handed me a pen and I signed it. ‘Might be worth something once I’m dead, sir.’
He seemed pleased with it. ‘I’m keeping this one.’
I found another copy and took it back for the Major, and he put it up on the wall of his office.
The next two weeks passed without incident, and we all settled into our routines. I was eating well with the General, but not getting much running in since we were forbidden to leave the factory unless armed and in a group, and on official business. I ran around the factory in the mornings, but it was not a large area, some of the lads joining me now and then.
Beer was available, and some of the lads slept in late, not much to do.
Then the first patrols started, everyone fighting to get on them, people seen tossing coins for places. The first two went off well enough, not much seen, no shots fired in anger, and the third patrol spotted artillery being moved, reported it, and an F16 bombed the artillery piece, a cause for much celebration when the patrol got back.
A patrol then ran into a bunch of armed men, fired and wounded a few, only to find after a hasty withdrawal that they were Muslims, and on our side. The General met with militia leaders and apologised, asking how we could work better together. The up-shot of that was that the militia leaders never had a clue where their people were, leaving us no further forwards.
Major Bradley had sent someone down for me, so I trotted up the clanking metal steps and to his office. He saw me coming, since they were glass-walled offices from waist height upwards. Captain Tyler was in with him.
I stopped and knocked, so they stared at me before Major Bradley said ‘Come in’ with a frown. He pointed at the glass. ‘I can see you.’
‘Yes, sir, but I wouldn’t just barge in, I always knock.’
‘The rest wait and attract my attention, then I wave them in,’ he complained. ‘Anyway, sit.’
I sat with a playful smirk, a nod at Tyler. ‘Captain.’
Major Bradley collected his thoughts. ‘Captain Tyler here has asked to accompany a patrol, some ... experience, so I thought I’d have him tag along with Tabby’s patrol. Four days.’
I focused on Tyler. ‘Some ... experience, sir?’ I toyed. ‘Is the paperwork not exciting enough?’
‘I want to see how the real experts do it,’ he quipped, making me smile.
‘Anyway, I figured that he and Tabby might clash, or at least that Tabby ... may clash with anyone stepping on his toes, so you’ll bodyguard the captain. No one will fuck around with you there. But, it’s Tabby’s patrol, so ... go sell him on the idea.’
‘Am I allowed to hit him?’ I toyed.
‘No!’
I stood. ‘I’ll go find Tabby then, and practise being nice.’
‘Have to start sometime,’ Tyler quipped.
‘Oh, Wilco,’ the Major called, smiling also now. ‘For this insert I’ll make you 2ic.’
‘2ic sir?’ I puzzled. ‘I’m not senior – to anyone bar the chef?’
‘No, but you are better than they are so ... you can practice being 2ic. Sell him on that as well.’
I blew out, exchanged a look with Tyler, and headed back down.
Tabby and I got along, and he respected my abilities, but he was senior, 2ic in the Mobility Troop, and he often led patrols, but he was also a bit uneducated compared to some of the lads, a heavy smoker and drinker, with two ex-wives that hated him.
I found him sat with his team and making plans, otherwise known as sitting around with a cup of tea and doing fuck all. I sat and faced him. ‘You have a patrol leaving tomorrow.’
‘Yeah...?’ he puzzled with a frown. ‘Are you down for it?’
‘No, and I have other things planned, but ... Captain Tyler needs some experience of something other than driving a desk, so the Major wants him tagging along with you. And, since the Major doesn’t want Tyler left in the woods if he breaks an ankle, I’ll have to go if he goes.’
‘You and Tyler?’ Tabby queried, the lads exchanging looks.
‘Yep, we both go or neither goes. How long is it anyway?’
‘Four days; helicopter in, helicopter out.’
‘And where is it?’
‘Up near the border,’ Mickey said. ‘Twenty miles south of it.’
I nodded, without letting them know that I knew more about their patrol and the local intel than they did. ‘So, I’ll not go if you’re not happy, but if you’re not happy you’ll have go up and tell the Major that, and then ... then you won’t get another patrol this side of Christmas.’
Tabby made a face and considered his options, because like the rest he desperately wanted to go on a patrol, any patrol. ‘You’ll babysit Tyler if he falls behind?’
‘I’ll hold his hand,’ I quipped.
‘It’s no big deal,’ Tabby finally let out.
‘I’ll also be 2ic.’
‘You!’ Tabby queried. ‘You’re not senior to anyone here.’
‘I know, but the Major is under pressure to make me more of a team player, so by being 2ic the rest of you get to whinge about me in the report when we get back, to see if I am team player or not.’
‘You ain’t no team player,’ Taffy laughed.
‘No,’ Mickey added, ‘but with Wilco with us he’ll spot the bad guys a mile off. And if there’s trouble, I want Wilco with us.’
Bob agreed. ‘If I get shot, I want Wilco patching me up.’
‘Aye,’ Taffy agreed.
‘So it’s up to you,’ I told Tabby.
‘If I go put my foot down with the Major I don’t get no more patrols!’ he complained.
‘Why do you want to put your foot down, what’s wrong with having me around?’
‘Not you, Tyler. He might be dead weight.’
I shrugged as I eased up. ‘Well, if it all goes well, and you lead well, Tyler’s report will carry more weight than what this ugly bunch say about you.’
An hour later Tabby came and found me. ‘I’m taking you and Tyler, so get you kit ready.’
‘Already sat waiting. Just in case.’
‘Call sign Alpha Six.’ He mumbled something and headed off.
‘You off on patrol?’ Smurf asked.
I faced him and nodded. ‘Tyler is tagging along on a patrol for experience, I’m makin
g sure he comes back in one piece.’
‘Tabby and the lads won’t fuck about with you, they’re a good bunch. And besides, they’d worry you’d bury them out there.’
‘I haven’t hit anyone for weeks,’ I quipped.
Rizzo bound over. ‘How come you’re going with Tabby?’ He seemed hurt.
‘Tyler wanted a patrol, some experience, and the Major wants me to hold his hand, just in case.’
‘Tyler is going?’ he asked with a curled lip.
I nodded. ‘Babysitting routine. So, replace me on the Alert Team.’
‘You ain’t on the Alert Team?’ he puzzled with a heavy frown.
‘I know,’ I quipped, Smurf laughing. ‘But I am with you in spirit.’
Shaking his head, Rizzo wandered off, no doubt to continue playing cards and drinking tea, waiting for some NATO patrol to need rescuing. Since the NATO lads all kept to the safe areas, Rizzo and the Alert Team would get plenty of card practice in.
Smurf said, ‘I’m up on rotation for the team next week, Rizzo steps down. He don’t know yet.’
‘If you get a call out and he doesn’t, he’ll sulk for a week!’
I went and found Tyler in the small officers mess, otherwise known as the factory’s previous Store Room, and checked what kit he was taking and how he would dress. He was grateful for the advice, and I grabbed an AKM for him and spent an hour doing the drills.
Mickey found me later. ‘I’m taking an AK47, we all are.’
‘Why?’ I puzzled.
‘Tabby says that if someone sees us from far off that we’d look like Serbs, and not shoot him in the nuts.’
I smiled and nodded. ‘True, very true.’
‘Tabby is also wearing his Wilco trousers and jacket. And the lads have Wilco gloves, Wilco over-boots and Wilco face masks, but Tabby says not to wear them till he says.’
I smiled. ‘I may start a trend for flared trousers soon.’
‘Fuck, no. I remember those, hated them.’
Preparation was everything, and I checked my kit twice. Getting dressed into my sniper outfit, I checked my pockets, my webbing, and then I checked it all again. Sat with my eyes closed, I tapped each pouch and pocket, stating what was in it.
My AKM had its camouflage sleeves on and tightened, silencer fitted and checked, then checked again before being taken off and pocketed. My bandolier was stuffed with magazines, ten in total, four in the rear pouches and acting as body armour high on my back. I was ready.
Flying in, I peered out of the window, the lads all geared up and keen, and it made me smile. I could see the second Lynx helicopter, behind us and riding shotgun in case this one went down. It was a thirty minute flight, the Lynx a very fast bird, and no one had aimed a missile at us, so it was uneventful.
Stepping down from the helicopter, we dragged our Bergens a few feet and knelt down, the chopper soon taking off and becoming a distant drone. I had cocked my weapon the minute we left the chopper, and now eyed the tree line with a professional interest.
‘Wilco, tree line,’ Tabby called with some urgency.
I ran forwards without my Bergen, across the long wet grass and to the tree line and inside, soon scanning the area and listening intently. Hearing the guys approaching, I ran forwards fifty yards, stopped to listen - and even to sniff the air, weapon at the ready, and then swung back around a track I found, looking for any signs of life.
I ran back, Mickey pointing to my Bergen. ‘Nothing, just us, but anyone within a mile heard that chopper,’ I told Tabby.
‘Sergeant?’ Captain Tyler called, looking at Tabby as Tabby studied the map for way too long, Tyler deferring leadership for this insert.
‘Get your Bergens on, we’re tabbing out of here at the double,’ Tabby finally called, making me smile.
‘Give me a second,’ I called, and I pulled out my green camouflaged over-boots and eased them on, followed by my gloves, finally my face mask.
‘Now he’s fucking invisible,’ Mickey quipped. I put my plastic hanging plant around my neck, adding to my camouflage, and stood up, stepping forwards a few paces to a bush.
‘Well?’ I asked.
‘If I didn’t know you were there,’ Tyler began, ‘I’d not see you, even this close up.’
I grabbed by Bergen and lifted it on, taking the strain as Tabby led the way at a brisk pace. ‘OK, radio check,’ crackled in my ear.
Since I was designated 2IC for this patrol, I responded with, ‘Wilco here.’
‘Mickey here.’
‘Bob here.’
‘Taffy yer.’
‘Last but not least, Captain Tyler here,’ cackled out.
We cut through the dark forest, pausing every now and then, weapons at the ready, eyes peeled, ears keenly listening – at least our right ears, and I was glad to be here. Creepy dark forests with enemy soldiers held no fear for me, it was a game and a test, and I loved every minute of it.
After thirty minutes we were all warm and panting a little, and Tabby chose a pile of fallen logs off a track to call home for a while. We all eased in and dropped our Bergens, an all round defensive position taken for a minute while he checked the map again.
Mickey got the radio going, then tried to get it going again, then asked me. I checked the settings, took out the battery and warmed it, rubbed down the connectors, and we finally got it going, Mickey calling in our successful insert in code.
‘Wilco,’ Tabby whispered, and I turned around. ‘Follow that track south five hundred yards, should hit a road. Sniff it out and back here.’
‘Moving,’ I whispered, resisting a smirk. On the track I turned right, and as I walked I released the cammo netting on my rifle, un-clipping and re-clipping the silencer in place and testing it carefully. I covered the end of the silencer, jumped up and down to make sure that I didn’t rattle, then fastened back the covering of my magazines, ready for a quick re-load.
I was set, and off I set, down the dark and heavily forested track by myself, a chance encounter of heavily armed Serbs a real possibility. I had to work hard not to smile under my face mask.
Halting every ten yards, I stopped to look and listen, and I checked the path for either trip wires, or for signs of life. At two hundred yards I checked the radio. ‘This is Wilco, still got a signal from me?’
‘Roger that,’ crackled back, but a little weak.
I plodded on, feeling the cool air on those parts of my face not completely covered, and five minutes later I found the road. The track dropped away down a steep slope, and the tarmac road ran left to right. With the sounds of a lorry getting louder I eased behind a tree and got ready, soon a green army lorry thundering past, and I could see dozens of men in the back.
‘It’s Wilco, anyone hear me?’ I said into my wrist.
‘Just about,’ crackled back.
‘I’m at the road, plenty of traffic, lorries with soldiers in.’ A noise caused me to wait, soon a towed artillery piece and three vehicles passing by.
‘Wilco for Tabby.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Towed artillery piece just passed me, heading west. Bingo.’
‘We’re in the right fucking spot then. Find a good OP.’
I inched as close to the road as I dared and looked down it both directions as far as I could see. To the east sat thick forest, but to the west there seemed to be a clearing, the road descending. Circling around, I quickly moved towards the clearing, soon rejecting it because there we signs that someone had been using it regularly for a quick roadside brew-up.
I pushed on, parallel to the road, and found a nasty tight bit of wood overlooking a slope, an ideal OP. Reaching it, I realised that it offered no view of where the trucks were headed, we’d need to be further south.
I cut across the forest, not using the track, and guessed where the guys where, finding the track just short of the den. ‘This is Wilco, I’m coming in, don’t shoot.’
‘Roger that,’ came a lazy reply.
I edged around a t
ree and could see the den about fifty yards away, so I inched closer to a large bush, and simply stood in front of it. ‘Can you see me, I’m inside of fifty yards.’
There was a long pause. ‘No, fucker, where are you?’
‘Don’t shoot, I’m sneaking closer. Free beer for the first one to spot me.’
I used a large tree to blank them as I crept closer. Inching slowly around the tree, I was now at twenty-five yards. ‘See me yet?’
After a pause came, ‘No. Wave you arm or something.’
I grabbed my torch, and clicked out a signal. Heads lifted as I approached.
‘Saw the signal’, Bob said.
‘But not you,’ Tyler added with a smile.
‘Well?’ Tabby asked.
I sat on log, my rifle upright. ‘That path goes south, four hundred yards I’d say. Maybe less. Tarmac road east to west, plenty of trucks and artillery, but no good view of where I think the artillery is going, need to be across the road five hundred yards and west a bit.’
Tabby shone his torch on the map. ‘That should put us ... above this road,’ he said to himself. ‘Looks like a main road as well, some houses.’ He lifted his gaze and adopted his managerial voice. ‘OK, take ten, then we move south. Have a shit if you need one, take a pee, have a drink.’
‘Oh,’ I added. ‘There are signs that a clearing just ahead is used regular for trucks to stop and for the boys to have a brew-up. Need to avoid it.’
Tabby nodded, none too concerned.
I stood guard for the ten minutes, looking and listening, before we grabbed our heavy packs, Tabby telling me to take the lead. They followed me along the path, the guys not quite as stealthy as I might have wished for, and we bunched up in sight of the road.
‘Need to go left fifty yards through the woods,’ I whispered, ‘then across the road one at a time.’
Tabby nodded, and I led them off through the woods, halting at the edge of the road for a good look and listen. I ran across and into the trees the other side. Once there, I took up a defensive position behind a tree.
Tabby strolled across, checking both ways, making me smile, and he waited next to me as the rest of the lads ran across, finally Tyler, Tabby nudging me onwards. There was no track, so we stepped carefully, and I took a diagonal course, aiming for the point that Tabby had indicated on the map.