Falkland Islands South Atlantic
May 1982
It was cold, a deep penetrating cold which went through to your bones . But it wasn't just the cold that was causing him to shake, it was the anticipation of what was to come. In a few short minutes it would start again, the noise, the violence, the smells and inevitably the pain and suffering .
A few days ago he had been safely ensconced in the back of the fitter truck only venturing out to effect the odd repair or take cover from the incessant Argentine bombing raids. That however was before the big Para Sgt Major had arrived in their location looking for volunteers to hump ammo and help with casevac-ing the wounded, he had conveniently omitted to mention the dead .
He had jumped at the chance to escape the boredom and the over -zealous Artificer SSgt with his "fresh off the production line "ideas. He'd barely had time to grab his Bergen and weapon before being piled into the back of the overcrowded Landrover with several other "volunteers" and setting off into the dark sleet driven Falklands' night. For nearly an hour they had bounce and bumped over what passed for roads, sometimes nothing more than sheep tracks. Land rovers weren't noted for the comfort of their ride at the best of times , so by the time they arrived at their destination it felt like he'd just gone 12 rounds with Mike Tyson. As he clambered out of the Rover he asked the driver " Where the fuck are we ?"
" Some place called Camilla Creek House mate " came the reply …
" And where the fuck is that ? "
At that point the voice of the Sgt Major interrupted , "Right lads , get yourselves a brew and a banjo then get your heads down, Ready to Move 04:00 Hrs. ! You'll be briefed on your tasks then. You'll have to find yourselves a space in the building over there. Remember… 04:00 Hrs! "
Stumbling in the darkness he found his way into the building indicated by the Sgt Major , the smell of wet clothing and sweaty unwashed bodies hit him like a slap in the face , closely followed by a disgruntled shout to "Close the fucking door !" Which he did with some alacrity, then proceeded to step on a protruding pair of feet, drawing another outraged shout from the darkness
" Gerroff my fucking feet ….ye clown ! "
"Sorry mate!"
" I'm NOT yer fucking mate , now find a fucking space and stay there !"
He picked his way through the tightly packed mass of bodies drawing groans and curses when he inadvertently trod on something he shouldn't have ! Reaching the other side he found a space on the floor, dumping his Bergen he pulled out his sleeping bag and unrolling it climbed in, laying the SLR alongside his body then pulling up the zip. As he struggled to get reasonably comfortable he thought to himself "What the fuck have I let myself in for ?".
His eyes had barely closed when he felt himself being roughly shaken awake again, "Shit , it can't be 04:00 already …" he thought ,looking around he could make out other shapes in the semi -darkness making preparations , quietly , with a practiced efficiency. He on the other hand scrabbled around finding a boot , then a sock , then frantically trying to stuff his sleeping bag back into the Bergen, inadvertently kneeling on his SLR in the process , just managing to stifle the yelp of pain as the cocking lever dug into his kneecap . By the time he had got it all together the room was empty. He stumbled outside in time to see the tail end of the column of troops disappearing into the darkness.
In a panic not to be left behind he made to follow them , but a voice from the dark brought him up short .." Not that way shit –for- brains!...That's where the real soldiers are going, not you ... yet ! " He turned round recognizing the shape of the Sgt Major from the day before ….
" Glad you could join us Reems ! Not too early for you is it?"
"Sorry Sir I was just …. "
"Never mind , get fell in over here with the rest of the Muppet show ! " He said indicating a group of about a dozen other assorted soldiery .
"Top 10% eh ? "( A reference to the fact that REME personnel were allegedly drawn from the top 10% of recruits to the Army , a fact REME soldiers were never slow to point out !)
"God bless us and save us ! " muttered the Sgt Major shaking his head theatrically.
Turning to face the assembled soldiery, he began …..
"Right ! Listen in gents, your mission , should you decide to accept it , which obviously you will 'cos that is wot Her Majesty pays you for , is going to be supporting those real soldiers you saw departing earlier ! "
"They is going into battle soon and they will be requiring lots of that stuff over there ….AMMUNITION !" indicating piles of 7.62 mm ammunition crates and mortar rounds! " And you people will be delivering it to them !"
"You will follow up behind the main attack, you will carry ammunition up there and you will assist in the casevac of wounded back to the RAP."
"Dump your Bergens behind the RAP over there, you will require only your personal weapons and belt order, The QM will brief you further"
And so it was that he found himself a few hours later crouching amongst rocks and heather listening to the sounds of battle somewhere ahead of him , watching the red and green tracer rounds arcing through the air,seeing them strike something solid then shoot sky wards before burning out .
Next to him lay the metal canisters bearing the markings RDS 7.62 NATO Carton military speak for 7.62 mm ammunition, packed in boxes of 20. Ball referring to the type of bullet. Others were marked LINK to indicate they were connected in a belt for use in Machine Guns. His task was to keep the Gun Group and their General Purpose Machine Gun supplied with ammunition to allow them to lay down suppressive fire on the Argentine positions and make it easier for the assault troops to get into those positions with minimal casualties.
As he lay there could hear the whirring noise of 105mm Artillery rounds from the supporting Light Gun battery passing overhead followed by the flash and then a second or two later the crump as they impacted on the enemy positions ! Whoomp ! Whoomp! Whoomp ! three rounds at a time.
Interspersed among the explosions he picked up cries of pain and alarm as men were hit and calls of Medic ! Medic ! The noise was deafening , and the cries all the more unnerving in the darkness . He could feel the fear in him rising , the sick heavy feeling in his stomach making him nauseous and he felt himself beginning to sweat despite the cold …. And then through all the mayhem he heard the cry;
"Ammunition ! Ammunition ! "
Groping in the dark for the metal canisters,fumbling with the canvas straps he had attached to them, he slung it around his neck and picked up another in each hand, 200 rounds in each, 800 in total , then set off in the darkness , stumbling , the barrel of his SLR slung across his back clattering him on the back of the head, his legs protesting at the sudden movement after hours of lying motionless …. he made his way forward to the GPMG position. As he went he could see clumps of earth kicking up in front and to his right and left , then he heard the zip!zip! and realized what it was … incoming fire ! " OH FUCK!" It took him only a few seconds to cover the distance but as he threw himself down next to the gun crew the gun No 1 screamed at him:
"Where the fucking hell have you been? " Where's the f#cking ammo ?
Breathless his heart pounding and lungs aching from the effort he half handed ,half threw the canisters to the gun No 2, and then painfully unslung the two canisters around his neck and passed those over too.
"Here ! here ! "
" We'll need more than this ! " yelled the No 2 over the hammering of the gun. "Go back and fetch some more…as much as you can carry! "
As he turned to set off back He was stopped in his tracks by a shout from behind him " Incoming …. Down ! " Before he had time to react he felt the air crushed from his lungs and his body being lifted from the ground and thrown through the air …then it went black.
Consciousness returned to him with a sound like a rushing wind , he couldn't hear anything, he was still blinded from the flash of the explosion …"Explosion ! " Oh shit !"
He began feeling his body checking for injuries, his hands automatically going to his crotch .. … finding all the appropriate parts still attached he let out a sigh of relief
"Oh thank fuck !"
Then almost immediately he looked down as he remembered his next priority
"My legs … !" Another sigh as he found both appendages still attached , he ran his hands over them , bringing them away covered in blood , but they still seemed to be functioning . He could feel blood running down the side of his face , he reached up to finf where it was coming from and found a 2 " gash just above his left ear , then pulled them away again sharply as he felt the pain. Then he remembered the two Para's manning the GPMG, he turned back to where they had been, no sign of them,keeping low he crawled back to the position. There was no sign of the No1 …the No2 he found slumped against a rock moaning and in obvious pain. He knelt over him and turned him on his back looking to see where he had been hit … the sight that greeted him made him turn away and retch, forcing himself to look back at the man's ruined face he began talking to him as he searched for his First field dressing , groping in the dark he located it taped to the man's webbing , tearing it away he ripped it open , still talking to the wounded man he forced himself to reach out and take hold of the flap of torn flesh that had been his face and folding it back into its place he applied the dressing , drawing a moan of pain from now barely conscious soldier.
As he worked he heard a voice raised above the noise of battle :
"Gun group ! " " Gun group ! "
"Over here ! " He called back , just as a dark figure piled into the position next to him .
"Jeezus " What a mess ! " Who the fuck are you ?
"Cfn Mackay , REME " He replied .
"Jeezus Mary and Joseph ! It must be desperate if the friggin REME are this far forward !"
He turned to the wounded Para , " Danny where's your oppo ? Where's Plug ? "
His urgent questioning drew only an unintelligible moan .
"I think that might answer your question …." Said Mckay nodding to his right .
The newcomer turned to look in the direction indicated …. A few feet away lay a crumpled bloody shape only recogniseable as human by the outstretched arm , the only appendage still attached to the main torso.
" Aw shit ! " Poor bastard! "
"Right you're going to have to man the Gimpy, ! Have you fired one before ? "
"What ? ! Are you mad I'm a fitter for fucks sake ... " He protested; but was cut short by the Para NCO
"Well unlucky you're a grunt now, so get hold of that gun and get start firing ! It s not rocket science " He demonstrated as he spoke ," Lift the top cover , lay the belt on the feed tray, close the cover cock the weapon, safety catch off and squeeze the trigger ,! "Short bursts , 3-5 rounds at a time . When you see the rounds are on target give it a longer burst " OK ?
All around them the battle raged on , the sound of 7.62 rounds cracking overhead as they worked , high explosive rounds impacting around them throwing up great clumps of earth and rock. the whole scene bathed in the yellow glow of the flares put up by both sides.
McKay took a deep breath and replied " I don't suppose I have a choice eh ? "
"No you don't. Fire at the muzzle flashes if you can't identify a target, keep their heads down till we get on top of them. !"
"Right got it ...I think !"
"You'd better have. When we get into a final assault position I will call for a long burst , , give it rock all, a good 10 second burst then cease firing and follow up behind us " You see that rise in the ground , about 50m to your front ?
"Yep "
"OK that s where I want you to move to !" Then I want you to put down fire on depth positions ..."
" Depth positions ? "
Any enemy positions behind those we are attacking now "
" Ah Right "
The Para NCO helped him re-position the gun on the outcrop of rock where it had previously been, and with a final "Good luck Reems, I'll see you at the top. " disappeared into the half light .
"Aye you too "
With that he slipped off the safety catch, pulled the butt of the weapon into his shoulder , lined up the foresight with the dark shapes he knew to be the enemy and squeezed the trigger. The gun thundered into life ,he felt the butt punch into his shoulder , at the same time he felt the backblast on his face the pressure in his ears making his head feel it would explode with the over pressure. He saw the rounds of tracer arcing towards his intended target , falling short tearing up the ground in front of the enemy trench, raising the muzzle slightly he fired again this time he saw the rounds impact on target , He continued to hammer away,repeating to himself ...
"Short bursts 3 - 5 rounds, Short bursts 3 -5 rounds !"
Off to his right he caught the occasional glimpse of the dark shapes of the Paras sillouehted by the muzzle flashes of their weapons and the yellow glow from the flares as they fought their way forward towards the enemy trenches. Two at a time popping up and dashing forward a few metres then down again into cover to provide covering fire for their comrades to do the same , yard by yard closing on the Argentine position the intensity of the fire increasing.
Then above the din of the battle he heard the NCO's order ...
"Gun Group Fi-re ! .. Give it some !
Hurriedly placing a new belt on the loading tray he slapped the top cover closed, grasping the cocking lever , jerking it to the rear and releasing it forward feeding a new round into the chamber of the pulled the butt back into his shoulder and curling his finger around the trigger he let rip with a long killing burst into the Argentine position. Through the roar of the gun he heard the voice of the NCO again :
" Fix bayonets !"
As the final rounds thudded into the target a further shout :
"Grenades ! " Followed a second or two later by three or four dull thuds and then a series of hoarse yells as the dark shapes rose up from the heather charging the Argentine trenches. Then came the sounds of close quarter,hand to hand fighting, screams , cursing , intermittent bursts of fire, another dull thud as a grenade was hurled into trench.
"Gun Group ! Move up ! Move up !"
Grabbing the remaining boxes of ammo and the gun, cursing as he burnt his hand on the glowing barrel, he dashed towards the feature the Para NCO had indicated he wanted him to move to. As he reached the position a dark shape rose up in front of him ...it took his mind a milli second to comprehend what he was seeing ...instinctively he brought the gun to bear on the figure in front of him his heart pounding he seemed to be moving in slow motion "Too slow " he thought ,"Too slow!" He felt sick, he was never going to make it in time, he pulled the trigger with the gun still level with his hip ; felt the gun jerk in his grip, saw the muzzle blast of his opponent,'s weapon felt the heat and pressure of it on his face, then suddenly the figure staggered backwards as if a huge hand had reached out and jerked him off his feet and disappeared behind the outcrop of rock. He stumbled forward, his mind trying to comprehend what had just happened, threw himself down into a firing position his heart still thumping, his hands were shaking as he struggled to reload the gun, fumbling with the belt , cursing "Oh fuck ! Oh shit ! Finally managing to position the belt on the feed tray he slapped the top cover closed and pulled the butt back into his shoulder. He fought to control his breathing, feeling the cold sweat running down his back, he shuddered.
He realised the noise of battle had sudsided,and looking across to the enemy position he saw figures moving from trench to trench firing short bursts into them and moving on to the next. Then remembering his instructions he sighted the gun on the Argentine defensive positions further back but seeing no viable targets he decided to hold his fire for now.
Slowly the firing died down and he realised the darkness was receding the sky was still grey but the light was coming over the horizon. He surveyed the scene before him.
Edinburgh Scotland 2014
The black Jaguar pulled on to the dual carriageway away from Edinburgh airport heading towards the City centre. Inside the British Prime Minister and Secretary of state discussed the coming meeting with the Scottish First Minister . Ahead of them the ministerial protection team in the Black Range Rover scanned the road ahead for possible threats and checked comms with their control station in London.
" Zero this Papa Mike Alpha ,we are mobile on Blue, passing Blue 1 now over "
The reply came back immediately through the earpiece" Papa Mike Alpha ,roger out ".The route they were to take had been recce'd some days previously by the protection team and any choke points or possible ambush points identified and given a codename. Roads and junctions were also similarly tagged and waypoints designated to allow the team to report their progress along the route to the control room, without anyone listening-in being able to pinpoint their location. Several routes to their destination would have been worked out and each allocated a colour,any points of interest along the route would have been allocated a number. In this case Blue 1 was the Petrol station on the A ### into to the city centre.
There was an additional protection officer in the passenger seat of the Jaguar also connected by radio to both Control and his fellow team members in the Range Rover, they team leader also checked comms with him
" PM Alpha this is PM Bravo radio check over !"
"Bravo …OK over "