by Geoff Wolak
‘You won’t get any, not much anyhow.’
‘Well, I’ll have to cancel the use of the area.’
‘Tough shit. Try and move us off and see what happens.’
He went off in a huff making threats. I called Bob. ‘Listen, the dickhead range warden for this place in the New Forest, he don’t want us using paintball guns, might harm the fucking trees, so I told him to fuck off. Smooth it over, will you.’
‘I’ll deal with it. He objects to paint on trees?’
‘He does, but there won’t be much, and he’d never see it.’
Kit checked, coach driver thanked, coach departed, I led the guys across heather and gorse and to a spot I found on the map. After penetrating a hundred yards of trees bent-double, in some places on our knees, we found the opening, a stream running through it. Anyone wanting to approach would have the same trouble as us.
‘OK, fly sheets up, ponchos down, make a happy home.’
With Moran and Henri I rigged up a sheet, poncho down, and soon I had a happy home, dry if it rained.
‘OK, Rocko, Tomo, Smitty, Travis, get kitted, maximum camouflage, gloves on, facemasks on.’
Rocko got his team ready as others fiddled with their temporary homes, and the four stood in front of me.
‘Study the map, remember where this place is.’ I handed him a sat phone. ‘#1 to call me if you get lost or a wounded man.’
I looked over the camouflage, turned them around, and had them jump up and down. ‘OK, you will proceed to the following coordinates.’ I handed Rocko a piece of paper. ‘If you hit houses or a road your map reading is shit, turn around. Don’t cross any roads, don’t go near any houses.
‘At that location, check the area for tracks, recent use, set up an OP and ambush. If you ambush someone, return here, if not, two hours and you return. Got that?’
‘Yep.’
‘Off you go, that way.’ I pointed.
‘Rizzo, Jacque, Napoleon, Mouri, kit on, camouflage.’
When done, I checked them, again making them jump up and down.
I handed Rizzo a piece of paper. ‘Go to point A, move to point B, then point C, back here. Look for tracks, recent use, return fire if fired upon, otherwise avoid contact. If you think you’ve spotted the enemy waiting to ambush you, sneak around and shoot them. You must return inside of two hours. Off you go, that way.’ I pointed, and they bent double and headed out.
‘Henri, Slider, Stretch, Swifty, go to these coordinates, set an ambush, be back inside two hours. For this exercise, Henri is team leader.’ Off they went.
‘Dicky, Salties, get ready.’ I handed Dicky a piece of paper. ‘Go to point A, move to point B, to Point C, then back here, maximum two hours. Avoid all contact, and if you see a nasty bunch of people about to ambush you move around them – or shoot them.’ Off they went bent-double through the trees.
‘Captain Moran, hold the fort for a little while. External members, Mahoney, kit on, camouflage on, jump up and down.’ They did as asked, soon following me bent-double, and I led them to a track.
‘OK, you all have a good idea already about field craft. What you’re wearing right now is not standard issue, soldiers don’t often wear facemasks like this.’ I took mine off. ‘In Bosnia, enemy soldiers walked right past me, looked at me and walked on. Nicholson, in those trees.’ He ran over.
‘Imagine walking past and glancing his way, you’d miss him, and that will keep you alive longer. At night it works even better, and a few leaves sticking out your webbing helps. People find other people by seeing faces. Soldiers find soldiers by seeing faces, then rifles, then boots. If you stay camouflaged you live longer, and there’re a few IRA gunmen who still curse the outfit I’m wearing now.’ I waved in Nicholson.
‘OK, normal soldiering does not involve looking for tracks, our kind of soldiering does.’ I pointed at a bare patch of mud. ‘Tell me about who’s been here, and when. Kneel down and have a look.’
All had a good look.
Mahoney said, ‘Civilian, small feet, maybe a girl, dog prints.’
‘OK, good. And when?’
‘Hard to tell,’ Mahoney suggested.
‘To know the age of a print, look at the edges. If they’re sharp, less than a day. Is there water inside, when did it rain? Are there little bits of leaves inside, collected over a few days?’
They had another look in turn.
Mahoney ventured, ‘Yesterday.’
I knelt and had a good look. Standing, I said, ‘At least twelve hours ago, not two days. Get in the habit of looking at tracks, and if you know when they were made learn from it. Now, number one rule in a forest, or the jungle, is to listen and sniff, because you’re eyes are no good when you only have ten yards of visibility. Always try and approach a place downwind.
‘I have, on many occasions, found the bad guys and killed them because they were sat smoking. I approached downwind, sniffed the air, fixed a direction and distance – and I’m alive because of it Learn it, never forget it, use it. When you’re in the jungle, think like John Wayne in some old movie, read the tracks, look for smoke signals – your lives depend on it.’
I led them back to Moran. ‘OK, 2 Squadron plus Lassey, move to these coordinates, and create an ambush, return in two hours.’ I pointed. ‘Go that way.’
‘Pathfinders, Nicholson, Mahoney, go to point A, then point B, then point C, then back here. Lieutenant, you’re in charge of this patrol. If you get any shit from anyone let me know, and we’ll bin them.’ I handed Mahoney a piece of paper. I pointed. ‘Go that way.’
I sat cross-legged, Moran handing me a tea. ‘Be murder later when Rizzo shoots Rocko in the balls.’
Moran laughed. ‘Mahoney seems OK.’
‘A good attitude, came up through the ranks, hates his boss, glad to be away, divorced.’
‘You spoken to your lady?’
‘Nope. I haven’t rung her, she hasn’t rung me. And here I am, sat in forest with you.’
‘Thanks,’ he laughed. ‘Did you issue the right paper to the right people?’
‘If I didn’t then they’ll either bump into each other by accident, or all come back with no-contacts reported.’
‘It’s two miles end to end, and in tight forest that’s forever ... and then further on some. Could take all day to walk it bent-double.’
An hour later, noise preceded Rocko asking, ‘Are you in there?’
‘Keep coming,’ I shouted, and he found us, his team walking in without facemasks, Rizzo following.
‘Well?’ I asked.
‘I shot him in the arse,’ Rocko loudly announced, his lads laughing.
‘Rizzo?’
‘Yeah, he won that one. Fucker cut the turf and hid, set-up a decoy.’
‘Learn from it. Get some food on, you have two hours.’
Fifteen minutes later, and Swifty came in leading his team, all smiles, the Salties following behind, not all smiles.
‘Who got who?’ I asked.
‘They ambushed us,’ Dicky sullenly admitted.
‘Get some food on, two hours rest.’
An hour later, men lying on their backs and chatting, Mahoney found us, leading his team in, the 2 Squadron boys in tow. It was obvious who had lost out, the 2 Squadron lads displaying paint marks.
‘What happened, Mister Mahoney?’
‘We left a false trail, and a decoy, and got them.’
‘Good work. Get some food on. And all of you, the paint is water based, wash it off, rub it with a cloth.’
When ready I stood, checking my watch. ‘OK, Rocko and the Salties, your two teams will proceed to these coordinates.’ I handed them the paper. ‘You will set an ambush. Rocko is in charge. If you don’t get a contact inside of four hours, come back, but don’t get lost in the dark, please. If you do get a contact, stay for at least three hours.’
Off they went.
‘Henri’s team, you will move to point A, then B, then C, then back here, four hours maximum, same rules as be
fore.’
I observed them leave.
‘2 Squadron, these points, four hours max.’
I pointed them a direction and they disappeared.
‘Mister Mahoney, these coordinates, four hours max and back. If you see another team, ambush them.’
After they had left, I turned to Moran. ‘Trip wire.’ He smiled widely, holding up a reel of green fishing line, and we set off, knowing where the patrols would cross over, and which tracks they might use.
After sundown, Rocko came back in, torches used.
‘How did you do?’ I asked him as he straightened, his lads moving past.
‘Those coordinates was a spot where two streams met, and we puzzled it, then cut the grass and hid, four sets of two men, four in the bit in the middle of the streams, two either side. One patrol walked wide around us, I think they were lost, and the next one got wet slipping in the water and wet again when we shot them. Third patrol did well, all nice and quiet and slow, then we murdered them.’
Henri appeared fifteen minutes later. ‘We got shot,’ he admitted. ‘And we wasted time where someone set trip wires, three of us fell over.’
‘Best avoid falling over in the jungle,’ I cautioned.
The 2 Squadron lads turned up next, and were wet.
‘Well?’ I asked.
‘Got ambushed, but before that we fell for the trip wires. Got a sore nose and a sore wrist.’
‘Learn from it, adapt,’ I told them.
The Pathfinders were last, a little lost, and they had not made contact with anyone, but admitted to tripping across a few trip wires.
‘You all have an hour, so get some food, a shit if needed, then you have a map reading exercise,’ I told them.
Each map reading course had been pre-checked and re-checked, the aim being to make observations at certain points whilst looking in certain compass directions.
Stood up in their teams, I said, ‘OK, there should be no contact on this unless some of you are very slow and some quick. If you do meet you are to avoid all contact with each other. If you come across civilians walking a dog, or anyone at all, you are to avoid them. Should you come across an enemy dog patrol, avoid them at all costs.’
I handed out maps as they glanced at each other. ‘You’ll need to get to certain points, have a look and write down what you see. That may be ... open field, house, tree, track, whatever. We’ll check them when you get back.
‘You’re required to be stealthy, at least not noisy, and you can use torches for maps – try to cover them over first. And try very hard not to fall for trip wires. Now tell me, did you cut the trip wires?’
‘We cut one,’ came a voice.
‘We cut two,’ came another.
‘So, dumb fuckers, there are still a few out there, and you may come across them again. Rocko.’ I handed him a map and sheet. ‘Off you go, that way. Rizzo, wait five minutes then go that way. Salties, that way five minutes after Rizzo, Henri, five minutes later, then Mahoney, 2 Squadron.’
After the last team was dispatched, I sat with Moran. Taking my sat phone out, I dialled.
‘Sergeant Benson.’
‘It’s Captain Wilco, you all set?’
‘Yes, sir, at the edge now, two routes, three set times.’
‘And I owe you a beer and a curry.’
‘I’ll hold you to it, sir, or set my dog on you.’
Lowering the phone, I faced Moran’s dark outline. ‘All set.’
‘In here,’ he began, ‘the dog could move quickly, but we have to duck a lot.’
After thirty minutes we headed out. And over the next four hours the teams fumbled through the dark, ran from dogs, were startled by flares bursting overhead, and tripped over trip wires, several trip wires attached to tin cans.
Rocko got back first, handing in his sheet and complaining about dogs and flares – and calling us “sly, deceptive, cheating flipping officers”, Moran starting to mark his written answers, Rizzo next, Henri’s team, 2 Squadron, the Pathfinders and Salties a bit lost.
They all got some sleep as Moran and I marked their sheets, then we bedded down, and no one stirred till past 9 o’clock, breakfast cooked.
They all stood before me at 10am. ‘OK, I hope your simple map reading exercise went off ... well.’
They grumbled and complained as I laughed at them.
‘OK, Rocko, ninety percent, well done, Rizzo, eight-five, good, Henri, eighty, Salties, seventy five, 2 Squadron also seventy five, Pathfinders at seventy – could do better.
‘OK, what some of you will be doing today is one-on-one sneaking up. The aim is to shoot the other guy. First, 2 Squadron, you will proceed to these coordinates.’ I handed them a sheet. ‘And you will move north. An hour ago, someone left a trail north. You will try and find the trail, and then follow it, and report what you find. Be back in under two hours.
‘Pathfinders, same deal, these coordinates.’ I handed them their sheet and sent them off. ‘Rest of you, follow me.’
I led them north, and to a track that circled around, telling them to sit. Placing markers in each direction, I returned. ‘Right, listen up. When called, you walk around the track to the marker, then into the bit of forest that is north of us here. There’s a stream, don’t cross it. You will walk east or west, and try and spot the other guy and shoot him. After any engagement, walk south to us here. OK, Rocko and Tomo.’
They laughed, Rocko giving Tomo a pointed camouflage finger.
‘Rocko left, Tomo right. Go!’
They returned fifteen minutes later, Rocko hit in both knees.
‘Little fucker hit me low again,’ Rocko complained.
‘One nil to Tomo, well done. Rizzo, Napoleon. Rizzo left, Napoleon right.’
After two hours it was a case of the winners fighting each other, and Tomo went up against Rizzo, beating his elder. Swifty then beat Travis, Slider beat Stretch, Dicky beat his buddy, and an hour later Swifty beat Tomo with a painful headshot after climbing a tree, the winner.
‘Ain’t fair,’ Tomo protested. ‘He climbed a tree.’
‘Learn from it,’ I told him.
Back at camp we got some food on, 2 Squadron back already.
‘Well?’ I asked them.
‘Found a track, took ages to follow it, found a camp fire, and he cooked beans and sausages, took a shit, dropped gum wrapper, and left to the west.’
‘Not bad, gentlemen, not bad at all,’ I commended.
When the Pathfinders returned I quizzed them.
‘We found the tracks, following them, fucking hard in places. Guy made a wigwam kinda thing from branches, cooked a meal of eggs we think, then left to the east.’
‘OK, good, you’re starting to think like Indians, and that’s what’s required.’
I led them and 2 Squadron to the competition spot, the first two men sent around, the eventual winner being a 2 Squadron lad.
Bedded down early, they would be up before dawn, and it rained. Thankfully, our new fly sheets were great, and I was sure that the gentle gurgling stream helped us sleep.
We moved out before dawn, and to a wide track, the only area that was clear. ‘OK, I want a stretcher set-up, Captain Moran in it, four men to carry it whilst alert, weapons ready. Mahoney, you’ll lead the Externals at our rear. Rocko, you’ll lead your team and Rizzo at the front, but keep two separate teams, Salties grab the stretcher, Henri’s team behind the stretcher, and you’ll all be coordinated by me.’
We tested the radios, not used till now, and formed up in teams.
‘Rocko, Rizzo forwards twenty yards, Mahoney, always ten yards back at least, last man walking backwards. All of you stay in your four man teams, never more than two strides away from your next man. When the team leader moves, you move, and the team leader is to give hand signals for positioning. No radio chatter apart from me and team leaders. Stretcher up, weapons ready. Forwards.’
I moved forwards ten yards and knelt, a look over my shoulder, the Salties kneeling, stretcher down
. With Rocko looking back at me I lifted up and signalled him on.
At a cross-track I said, ‘Rocko left, Rizzo right, fire positions and hold. Henri, come around, move on ahead.’ Rocko and his team covered the left fork, Rizzo the right fork, Henri jogging forwards and beyond the junction.
I waved the Salties up and we crossed the junction, twenty yards on and down. Henri was waved down. ‘Rizzo, Rocko, forwards.’
Knelt, I glanced behind as they came forwards either side, and took point, and I could see Mahoney moving up, but then turning and covering the junction. We moved forwards, across a stream, across a fence, across open ground spread out, and then made camp.
‘Gather around, sit down,’ I called as the dawn came up. ‘Fold up the stretcher.’ I waited. ‘OK, when we’re in the jungle I want teams of four, and within those teams I want two men always together, they sleep and rotate together. A patrol will be eight men, two teams of four, but should look like four teams of two, so with your oppo – always arms distance away, two strides from your team mate, and patrols would be ten paces apart, but in line of sight.
‘What you’ve just done is move as a large team, but I doubt that this many would move together on a patrol, but it is possible. When we have the numbers, every junction is held by the front teams, people moving across, then you reorganise.
‘Now, moving in the jungle is hard, lots of things to trip over, and moving off-track is slow. Problem with moving on the track is a possible ambush, trip wire or grenade trap left for someone else. Where possible we move off-track, but not through dense jungle, that’s asking for trouble.
‘Trying to coordinate a long line of men is not easy, unless you stick with your teams and move as teams. Problem comes when someone starts shooting at us, and we move off a track. If you do so, always stick with your buddy and your team, and check your fire.
‘If you don’t see a black face, don’t fire. None of the local fighters out there will have a face mask, so if you don’t see a black face and a nice white smile – don’t shoot.
‘Problems also come when we’re on a narrow track, shit jungle either side, and we get a contact head on. The men at the rear can’t see what’s happening, nor shoot to support us. Trick is to avoid such terrain, and to set ambushes where we want them, not for ambushes to be set for us.