This story has been knocking around in my head for a while, and this week I finally found the time to start writing it. At the moment I have about 4 or 5 chapters planned, but it might go to more. Finding time to write isn't always easy, so if you do enjoy this please bear with me if the updates don't come as fast as you'd like. I have a job plus a family that need clean clothes and food etc.
Time wise its roughly 5 years after the end of OG, Molly and Charles are a settled couple, Molly is still in the army, still in RAMC and is working her way up the ranks. Charles has left the Army and is working for a veterans' charity.
Any comments or reviews will be appreciated. Author's notes at the bottom. Thanks to jenmc for beta reading and general encouragement
The sun was beating down relentlessly on the dusty red earth, tufts of dry grass and small scrubby thorn bushes stretched across the plain to the smooth humps of kopjes in the hazy distance. Dark rocks dotted the plain, absorbing the heat of the sun and blasting out even more in return. Under the meagre shade cast by a small spindly tree a group of soldiers sat, relaxing as best they could. They sat mostly in silence fiddling idly with blades of grass, swirling patterns in the dust with their fingers, occasionally glancing upwards at the slow progression of the sun across the sky.
One of their number was a petite brown haired woman, Corporal Molly Dawes. She was gazing up at the thin canopy of sparse leaves in the tree, watching the sunlight flicker through the branches, when a small gaggle of speckled brown birds landed above them. She watched as they jumped from branch to branch, chattering noisily, then took off and flew away, leaving the quiet shush of the wind in the branches and the far off chirrup and hum of insects.
She delved into the right hand thigh pocket of her combats and drew out a letter, the thin blue airmail paper flapped in the slight breeze. Smoothing the paper against her knees she read the looping scrawl.
Dearest Molly
It was so lovely to hear your voice this morning. The telephone coverage must have improved since I was there. I'm glad to hear that the exercise is going well, you should be so proud of yourself, I know I'm proud of you.
We're all doing well. Sam is over this weekend, I'm sorry I couldn't shift him from his pit to say hello when you called, it appears that we have well and truly hit the teenage years. I can barely get more than a grunt out of him that early in the morning. He was selected for the U14's match yesterday so I went to watch before we came home. He did well, he has all the makings of a good fly half, although if he carries on growing at this rate he'll be looking at something in the second row. Sorry, rugby talk! Rebecca was there with John and they send their love. She's looking much better than when we saw her last, she says the worst of the sickness is over now she's hit the second trimester. I don't remember her having it this bad with Sam, she's convinced that it will be a girl this time. Poor Sam doesn't know whether to be proud to be a big brother or mortified that he now has proof that his mother has a sex life!
I'm down to London this week to talk at a fundraiser for the charity, and I've also managed to swing a meeting at the MoD to discuss our latest grant application. You know there's nothing I like more these days than reminding some stick up his arse Brigadier about the Armed Services Covenant. As I will be staying overnight I thought I would take a day in lieu and visit your parents. I promised to take over some of Sam's old stuff to Belinda, she's been nagging me about needing different books for her coursework. Last time we spoke she was getting a bit frustrated with Bella, she's got the boot from her latest job and is hanging around the house all day. I told her my experience is only good for getting another couple of kms out of squaddies, I haven't got the faintest idea where to start with a moody teenage girl. Maybe you could drop her a line smooth things over next time you get online?
Mum and Dad are over in a bit for lunch so had better crack on with the roast.
Later
Well, the house is very quiet now with everyone gone. I thought I should finish up so I can get this in the post first thing. Mum & Dad send their love, we had a lovely walk after lunch, then it was home so Sam could finish off some prep before they dropped him at school on their way back to Bath. The place always feels more empty after a busy weekend. I've got a bit of that Sunday evening, back to school feeling myself and I'm missing you terribly right now. I can only imagine the great time you are having out there. I remember my time on training exercises in Kenya as being a bloody good laugh. Of course I had Archie and all his local knowledge which helped, especially pulling pranks on the new Second Lieutenants fresh out of Sandhurst.
While I'm on the subject of Archie, he and Dawn would love to see you when you are out there. I've given them the dates I think you're most likely to be on your break before your week of community work. Perhaps you could contact them and fix something up? Let me know if you need their number. I hear Beck is out there, I'm sure he'd put in a good word if you were to ask the CO for a few nights off base, especially to see Archie. They go way back.
Time to turn in, I love you very much my darling and can't wait to see you.
Ever yours,
C
xxxx
Molly smiled to herself. She loved Charles' old fashioned insistence on sending her letters when she was away from home. She was more of a Skype person, but he said nothing could come close to a letter, and you couldn't take a Skype call out of your pocket and read it in the middle of the night. He was right about that. She would read and re-read her letters from Charles until she was worried they would fall apart.
Only Charles would look back on trekking miles in the blistering heat, sleeping on stony ground and bivvying down with a bunch of smelly squaddies as a 'bloody good laugh'. Still, she could well imagine that his friend Archie would have made it fun. He was very much a practical joker, always playing pranks and taking the piss. She'd never experienced the army version of Archie, he'd left before she and Charles met, but she had heard all the stories over the years. She found it hard to imagine that the stern faced Captain of her first tour and the laid back joker that was Archie would ever get along, let alone be best friends. It was a long friendship, cemented through boarding school, university, Sandhurst, two tough tours of Afghan and a divorce apiece. She knew that there were moments of great pain and loss in that time that they would never talk of, even to each other. Despite being a continent apart they had the sort of friendship that they could pick up after months of no contact.
Molly had first met Archie shortly after her second tour of Afghan. She and Charles were in their first flush of romance, and Archie was making a trip over to the UK to be introduced to his new fiancee's family. Dawn jokingly referred to herself as an 'import'; she had come to Kenya to teach for a couple of years at one of the private boarding schools, and had met Archie at a party in Nairobi one half term. Archie couldn't actually remember meeting Dawn that first time. He had ended up at the party of an old acquaintance purely by accident of being in town that night and needing somewhere to crash. His first marriage had broken down 3 months before and he had spent all afternoon drowning his sorrows in a crate of beer.
A very drunk Archie was last seen by partygoers falling backwards off a wall into a flowerbed. While everyone had roared with laughter Dawn, who had been chatting to him at the time, had picked him up, got him into bed and sat up with him, making sure he came to no harm in the night. Instead of being grateful for the care she had shown him, the next morning Archie had called her a 'fucking stiff', and had been met with a similarly colourful response from a fuming Dawn.
Charles had taken great pleasure in pointing out that she had been right to call him 'an ungrateful little turd' and that he really should apologise. So it was a week later that Archie had tracked down his Florence Nightingale and had sheepishly apologised for getting drunk and thanked her for being so kind to look after him. He had then rather spoilt the apology by expecting her to put him up for the night as he was hundreds of kilometres from home and it was too late to drive back that night, but somehow he had wormed his way into her affections and six months later they were engaged.
Molly would love to see them, but wondered if it was the right time. This was her first major training exercise since her promotion. Keeping in with the platoon, even when it was at the end of their exercise was important. She didn't want to be taken for someone who wasn't a team player. Nearing seven years in the army she was aware that the need to make the right impression never stopped.
Her relationship with Charles could sometimes be a hindrance to that, even five years after he had resigned his commission. By the simple fact of them being a couple she knew a number of officers that he was friends with and had served with. As far as some people were concerned this gave her a foot in both camps, and they made life that little bit harder for her. She had been cautious about going forward for her promotion to Corporal, which had frustrated Charles who could only see her ability to the job, but she had stuck to her guns through some fierce rows with him. It was important to her that she was seen to progress when the time was right and she worried that a fast track promotion would be seen as a result of who she knew.
In the end she knew Charles would support her, whatever her choices, and that he would give her a kick up the arse if he thought she needed it too. It was a mutual arrangement and one that made for a strong and happy relationship.
As she returned the letter to her pocket a crackly voice over the radio warned them of the approach of their sections. Molly and her fellow corporals stood, dusting themselves down as they scanned the horizon. Through the hazy shimmer they could make out a slow moving cloud of dust, which slowly formed into the sight of 30 or so soldiers running towards them. The poor sods looked knackered and Molly noticed a few of her section in the group of stragglers.
"Not far now," she shouted "come on, dig in!" At the back of the group she spotted one of her section, Private Aston. She was moving slowly, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. She looked done in. Molly headed down the track, encouraging each soldier as she passed them. Eventually she drew level with Private Aston and walked alongside her. "What do you see ahead, Aston?" she asked. Aston glanced across at her, barely able to draw breath, let alone talk. "See them lot, that's your section. You gotta keep up with them, you can't let yourself get separated. When you do you leave yourself vulnerable. They might need you, and you really need them."
Aston wiped the sweat from her face and kept on going. "What would you do if one of them was shot? They could bleed out just waiting for you to catch up. Come on, give me more, keep up" Molly picked up the pace, glancing back, trying to urge the Private on for the last few yards. She could tell she was pissing her off, but she wasn't here to hold her hand and be her friend, she was here to teach her how to be a medic and a soldier. To her credit Aston didn't complain and kept up, all the time Molly could practically feel the daggers the girl was shooting her.
They reached the rest of the platoon, now mostly laying sprawled on the ground, their chests heaving and gasping. "Right you lot, that's this exercise finished. Congratulations, you survived. Let's take 10 while we wait for transport to get to us. Make sure you hydrate, but just small sips for now or else it will come straight back up."
Molly wandered over to her fellow Corporals to check on the ETA if the transport to get them back to base.
"Fuck. That fucking bastard wanker" exclaimed Corporal Jones
"What's up?"
"Transport aren't coming. That fucking weasel Harris has sent them back to camp, seems to think our sections can walk back. What a tosser. He probably read it in his big book of being a weasley wanker his gran gave him for Christmas."
"He sent them back? Jesus. Who wants to tell this lot? Bagsy not me."
"It's not going to be me. Besides, your new in the job, you need the experience."
"Bollocks." She glanced over her shoulder "At least they're too knackered to actually kill me. Best get this over and done with."
She made her way over to the heap of sweaty bodies, some of whom had started to stir.
"Right lads, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that thanks to a fuck up in transport we have a lovely stroll back to camp with more opportunity to enjoy the beautiful scenery" The news was met with a series of groans, and from those who still had the energy, some swearing, "The bad news is that when we get back Corp Jones here will be spending the evening telling you tales of when live firing exercises go wrong, so you had better hope that no one has run out of pro-plus, cos you're all going to need it." Jones stuck two fingers up at Molly, and she chuckled.
"Right, we leave in five. Any of you needing top ups of water come and see me."
Ten minutes later everyone was heading towards camp, three of four loose groups making their way across the plain, heading south. Molly tried to work her way between each group, checking on the members of her section. As she reached the final group she noticed Private Aston was not wearing her pack. Casting around she could see it was being carried by another Private, Jacobs.
"Aston, Jacobs, over here" she stopped and motioned for them to come over. "Jacobs, I take it that's Aston's pack?" He nodded. "Put it down and carry on" Jacobs gave a weak smile and a shrug of his shoulders to his friend and hurried to join his section.
"I don't want to know whether he offered or if you asked" said Molly to a surly looking Private Aston. "You carry your own pack. If you can't then I suggest you talk to the MO when you get back to camp. The section only works if everyone pulls their weight. Now, put that on. We're nearly back."
"Ma'am"
Aston shrugged on her pack, trying hard to hide her discomfort. She turned and made to catch up with the rest of the section. Molly stood on the dusty track and watched her. "Ahh, shit" she said to herself quietly before walking towards camp.
Author's notes
This fic is set in Kenya. The British army have an agreement with the Kenyan government which allows them to run 6 week training exercises in an area of Kenya's Northern Frontier District (NFD), North of Mt Kenya. This was key in training troops for Afghanistan, as it has a similar terrain and climate. The army has a small permanent base in Nanyuki and also Nairobi which provides support to the visiting battalions.
Visiting battalions also carry out work to help local communities as part of their time on exercise, such as building or repairing bridges, schools and clinics.
While I have tried as much as possible to base what I'm writing on fact I have no experience of military life and I will inevitably deviate from reality to suit my story. Any glaring military errors or flights of fancy are mine.