Anthology! Chapter 4: Captain James' Diary: RnR, an our girl fanfic

First, things first... as usual a big appreciative grin for managing to tear yourselves away for a few heartbeats from the adrenaline rush that was episode 3 last week, to read Chevy Chase's fantastic introduction to Fanfiction with Rebecca's story: An Alternate View. As always, your reviews were much appreciated by us all at the Miniature Towers.

This week's writer needs no introduction to OG Fan fiction readers, she is the unforgettable jpcrafty whose beautifully named fic: I want you to be brilliant first appeared in December 2014. If you haven't read it, look it up and enjoy! Tonight she's written a cracking one shot to relish:

CAPTAIN JAMES' DIARY: RNR

jpcrafty

The dust was still swirling outside the compound. The helicopter just a spot in the sky getting smaller as each second passed. I knew I shouldn't still be standing there, there were probably insurgents eyeballing me right that very minute. A shout from Kinders made me reluctantly turn away and back to safety.

My tour is officially fucked. I've got a load of ANA in body bags to sort out but all I'm thinking about is the gobby private who is on her way back home this second. After all my tours and the shit storm that is currently my personal life, I'm teetering on a dangerous edge. My beloved army rigidity is shaken and I don't know what to do. I need to focus on the task in hand but I can still smell her bloody shampoo from earlier and it's driving me crazy.

I looked at the rag tag group that is 2 Section still laughing and joking at the ridiculous shopping list they were shouting at poor Molly as she left. A quick bark from me had them scurrying away to sort themselves out for a debrief. I know I shouldn't take it out on them but I need regain some semblance of control.

I came back to my tent, flinging back the canvas, glad to have my own space. A pent up breath escaped that I had no idea I was holding as I crashed into my chair, my fingers automatically rubbing my forehead as I tried to clear my head. The notebook and pen on my desk tell me I need to write up my notes from this morning's incident whilst it was still fresh in my mind.

Notes done, I emerged back into the harsh sunshine and grabbed a bottle of water. The lads were quiet now but there is an odd air about the place with Molly and Smurf away and Sohail having gone AWOL. Each team feels incomplete even with Jackie coming in soon to replace Molly temporarily. I gave them a ten minute heads up which should have just about given them enough time to get their arses in gear. I found Kinders already in the Ops Tent, obviously reading my mind as there's was cup of coffee waiting for me.

I thanked him. A beer would have been nicer though, he'd responded. A decent glass of wine, a steak, a good bath and a proper would be heaven! I'd sighed.

"At least Molly and Smurf will sleep well tonight!" came his reply.

My hackles were raised as I automatically assumed the worse. Molly and Smurf. Together. I swallowed down the hint of nausea that rose as I tried not to snap.

I told him "You know the rules about relationships in the army". I concentrated trying to hide the blatant lies coming out of my mouth. He told me he didn't mean anything like that but sleeping in their own beds at home. Molly at least deserved it- as it had been a pretty eventful tour for her so far he'd apologised.

I'd inwardly breathed a sigh of relief as I agreed with Kinders sentiments. Her determination and dedication has been outstanding. She has grown enormously since I first met the petulant madam at Brize.

I agreed, I was impressed and that I'd already put her forward for a medal recommendation for that situation with Smurf. I commented she's struggling with all the mess with Bashira and after this morning's incident at the mountain pass this week of RnR couldn't come at a better time.

I couldn't decide if I said that for her benefit or mine. A week apart will do us good. A chance for me to figure out how I can just get through this tour and get back home without further incident. Maybe seeing her family will sort her nut out as she'd say.

Debrief didn't last long. We're still unsure if it was Green on Green but all the bodies have gone to Bastion on the transport Jackie arrived on. I couldn't look her in the eye, terrified I'd see something that said 'more deaths on your watch James'. I couldn't blame her, after all she had to also deal with the aftermath of Geraint. The ANA have a hell of a job to sort out. With no further clues and no-one knowing what has happened to Sohail he's become the number one suspect which I'm sure Smurf would love to hear. Molly's warnings about his behaviour on the subject of the Taliban still linger. I know Sohail wasn't our biggest fan but would he really shoot his fellow men? I'm not ready to believe it just yet.

I've written up the details and contacted those higher up in the chain of command. They've taken it up so it's theoretically out of my hands but I'll still have to deal with any further ripples. I still can't work out where the mindless shooting of a bunch of volunteer troops fits in with the bigger picture here. It's a waste and looking at how it appears they were killed, it's cowardly. Murder pure and simple. I'm coming round to Molly's point of view-these were young lads who didn't need to die.

I got a flash back of her in the dusky light in her tent. The mournful look on her face as she thinks she's to blame for the mess. Even I, who has been long involved in this conflict can't always figure out my role. I give and take orders to try and formulate some sort of plan to help create peace. Trying to make a difference. I looked at my watch, the day is dragging. I must be getting soft as I couldn't even be cruel enough to make the lads go on a run later. As long as they carry on with the shifts and duties as normal I'm happy.

Night has fallen now, a peace has descended upon the compound. A great contrast to today's upheaval. There is the odd murmur now and then but nothing major that breaks the silence. I'm still awake, arms folded underneath my head as I stare at the khaki material above. Normally the darkness helps me sleep, but tonight it seems to provide the perfect backdrop to the myriad of scenes apparently on a loop in my brain. Her giggle as I stole her breakfast and the overly sweet taste of those Coco Pops on my tongue. Her silhouetted body as I appeared in the entrance of her tent to tell her she was going home. The haunted look as she wants to fix things. Her smirk as she took the piss out of my Nespresso machine.

I have no idea what came over me to write out Rosabaya on her arm. Why didn't I write it on her hand, that's what most people would have done? Was I subconsciously thinking-that'll come off too easily and it will be gone and she'll forget about it. Maybe forget about you? Was I branding her in some possessive way? Did I want her to trace the letters in the same delicate way I'd scribed her skin? The hairs on my arms raised as if I can still fell the warmth of her palm, the curl of her fingers as they linked with mine.

Come back to me, I'd pleaded. I will was the whispered answer that finally made me give in to sleep.

Another day arrived no different from yesterday, I thought initially until I remembered what was missing. I'm naturally awake before the others so I grabbed a shower whilst I could. My eyes automatically fell on the med tent as I walked and I had to tell my feet to carry on their current path as what I truly sought was now back on home soil. The water was hot for which I was extremely grateful, washing away the thoughts I needed to avoid. Refreshed I went back to my tent and fired up my Nespresso machine, counting the few pods I had left. I really hope Molly does remember to get me some as the last time my mum took weeks to order some and I had to force myself to drink something hideously instant.

As my brain finally began to work, I dropped by Captain Azzizi to see if the new replacements at the mountain pass had reported in this morning. It appears everything seems to be in order. I checked in on the guards and sentries, no disturbances overnight and still no sign of Sohail. I walked towards the kitchen it was bustling and the smell of bacon wafting in my direction even had me vaguely tempted. Jackie emerged, stretching announcing that was the best night's sleep she'd had in ages, the looks she was getting from Dangles don't escape me either. A frown from me saw him joining the queue for scoff. Sternface has regained some sort of normality.

It's our turn for patrol today, that should stem some boredom for a while and at least some post should also arrive later. I've told everyone to make sure all weapons are cleaned and oiled ASAP, the last thing I need is to come under fire and the lads not be prepared. I know they already know this but I can't take the risk. I'm still wondering if Molly has made it home yet. I don't even really know where she lives. Near West Ham I get it but that's just a football club and not an actual borough of London right? I go through my own kit to get it ready, got to lead by example. I have to clear my head, I can't have things clouding my judgement, I've got to protect my men and make sure everyone is safe.

A standard patrol. No skirmishes but Brains is still moaning about the dust getting in his eyes. I've told him maybe he should wear some goggles but of course the only reply I received was that the only ones he'd wear were of the beer variety! It looks like they aren't missing Molly's cheekiness as much as I am or maybe they are hiding it better. Ammo returned I let them rest up until I choose what sucker is going to pick up the mail sack.

Mansfield drew the short straw this time. It's not much of a punishment, well maybe sending a pasty skinned ginger guy out in the full heat of the sun. To be fair he's adapted quite well with a few hastily modified items of clothing plus a regular top up of his factor 50. He's a good lad at heart but I'm not sure if he's captain material. Yes I'm internally boasting-it's my fourth tour I should be thinking about promotion by now. Why not I'm perfectly capable, I can prove my worth but damn Molly and her input about emotional involvement. I've always been good at shutting down that part on duty. I'm given a task, there are parameters. It's a job at the end of the day, I'm being paid to get it done. I'm looking more now at the people here as humans with their own lives and tales rather than faceless crowds. Maybe being part of the army family for so long has made me numb to everything. My emotional detachment now extending to my home life too. An army captain running away on tour with a failed marriage, leaving my soon to be ex-wife to pick up the pieces.

I watched the lads read their letters. Presents from mums and notes from girlfriends. I rarely get anything these days. The odd special delivery from my mum or an updated photo of Sam occasionally but it hasn't bothered me until recently. I looked at the lads differently, putting myself in their shoes and remembering when I used to pore over every word in a letter, desperate for someone to reach out to me and tell me what was happening in the real world. Now I'm so used to living out of a bag with permanent sand and dust in my hair and shoes I'm not sure which world is which anymore. I sat in the shade and closed my eyes. I got a vision of me reading a letter. Kind words, heartfelt sentiments, signed at the bottom from Molly which brought a smile to my face. Shit now I'm even daydreaming about her writing me letters, like there could be some sort of future between us. There can't be. She's my Private, I'm her Captain. Any kind of entanglement out here could put us all in jeopardy. I can't entertain the idea in the slightest. Annoyed with myself I grunted and walked towards the makeshift gym, having to channel my frustration into that instead.

My mood was not improved later and a forced impromptu tent inspection turned into a disaster. Everyone is grumpy now. Them at me and me at myself. I even heard someone muttering under their breath what a pair of lucky bastards Smurf and Molly were to be home this week. I'm like a bear with a sore head, I'd let my emotions get the better of me again although surprise inspections are path of the course so god knows why they are so shocked. Anyway I can't be their mate all the time.

Lucky bastards-are we talking of them as a pair now or on their own? Everyone seems to be implying that there's something going on between them, am I missing something? I was thinking we were forming some sort of connection, some spark. Maybe I'm old fashioned or more likely out of touch with the whole flirting thing. I haven't exactly got the best track record when it comes to women but my gut was telling me this was right despite all the potentially bad outcomes.

I've placated them now even though I've told them they're doing a 5K run at 06:00. Kinders has told me that the tent is better and everything appears to be in order despite their complaining. I witnessed Mansfield downing a pint of gravy tonight-how that boy is not constantly ill I have no idea. It at least brought me out from under the dark cloud I was hiding.

It's nearly lights out. The nights are so clear out here, the stars cover the vast blackness of the sky. The old nerdy part of me wants to point out all the constellations to anyone vaguely interested. I know Molly likes to look at them, I've seen her sneaking up onto the roof of the toilets of an evening. I know she can't see them where she is, the orange glow of the capitals lights obscuring natures beauty. I look at my watch and it's only early evening in the UK but I wonder what she's up to. Is she resting? Are her family making a fuss over her? Will she be so eager to come to me back as promised?

I awoke with a start. I'd just had an awful dream where Molly was fatally injured by that blast saving Smurf. I'd watched helplessly as blood flowed out quickly from a wound as her hand feebly reached for me. I could hear her whispers over the radio as she said my name. I took a swig of water to clear my dry throat. The panicked beat of my heart slowly subsided as I realised it never actually happened but it worried me none the less. I've witnessed trauma on tour in the past but it's different this time. Maybe because there's a woman involved. I ran my hand through my hair, feeling the familiar grime.

It was still early, about 5ish so not long before I roused the troops anyway. I splashed my face with some water and decided to change into my running gear. I wasn't planning on joining them last night but I'd ridden along with Kinders the last couple of times so decided I should find my inner squaddie again and pound the dirt with the rest.

Fair play, everyone gave their all this morning. I certainly wasn't the quickest so I really need to up my fitness levels. Glad we all finished before the sun had really got up as it sounds like it's going to be a scorcher today. Jackie has fitted in well with the group. Molly certainly didn't need to panic about her replacement but then she is right, she's not her. There appears to be some sort of Northern banter rivalry going on between her, Fingers and Brains over which has the best accent. Poor lovesick looking Dangles can't get a look in-not that I'm condoning he should do anything. I packed them off to the showers-nothing worse than hanging about in a tent with a bunch of stinky lads. I'll have mine later after I've checked this morning's reports.

A possible sighting of Sohail turns out to be bogus but all is still well at the mountain pass. I've also checked to make sure that Bashira is still safe and if there is any progress on capturing her father. Even though I'm pleased we've helped I have a feeling the situation is going to prove a problem later on. As much as I fear it, I'm still behind Molly and her actions.

I sneaked myself a bowl of Coco Pops for purely nostalgic reasons obviously, nothing at all to do with Molly. Honestly.

Oh my god it was so hot today, the paddling pool had to have another outing. I filled it myself as I'm not a total tyrant and expect everyone to do everything for me. I'm felt sorry for the guys on watch. Even though they have shade, the weight and thickness of the kit is unbearable. It's like being trapped in your own personal sauna-more uncomfortable than a space where you're stuck with those random fat guys who decide to totally strip off in front of you. The sweat gathers in your hair and runs into your eyes and down the back of your neck. The dampness on your back rolls down to the top of your trousers, wet patches everywhere. The guys relaxing though are just so comfortable with their "brothers in arms" they are just lying in their bunks stark bollock naked. When you're all fit guys and you spend so much time with each other there's nothing to hide. Obviously it's a bit more difficult for poor Jackie, though I'm sure Dangles would happily volunteer to stand and fan her if she asked!

I'm wondering what the weather is like back in the UK. I imagine it's grey and probably raining. I used to like running in the rain, washing all the cares and worries away. I've inadvertently rubbed my feet, my trainers having irritated my blisters but not enough to go and see Jackie. In some ways it would feel a betrayal to Molly if someone else took care of them. How sad my feet have even pledged allegiance to my medic.

My medic, it does have a nice ring to it. Makes me sound a right possessive bastard though. Hell maybe I am when it comes to her.

Has it only been two days since she'd been away? It feels like forever, time is just seeming to drag. It's late again and mercifully the temperature drop is remarkable. A mini scuffle between the overheated lads about a shared porn mag was the highlight of my dull day. It reminded me of being a kid where there was always that one lad who'd managed to sneak one out of his dad's stash to share round. I struggled not to laugh as I had to sort them out like a bunch of 12 year olds.

To be honest the thought of sharing porn with a group makes me feel a little ill but then I suppose being higher in rank I have a few more privileges as well as privacy. I don't even think there is anything filthy amongst my kit. It doesn't however stop my brain from conjuring up its own imaginings. I can see Molly's slender legs in those tiny shorts. Her t-shirt riding up just a little during those Olympic Games things. I imagine her flat stomach and how I could run my fingers down to that dip at her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin.

I'm getting hard just thinking about it, fuck I'm so screwed.

I've woken up to the biggest case of morning glory I've had in a long time. Erotic dreams of Molly and I, our limbs tangled together, the sweat a sheen on our bodies as we abandoned ourselves to the pleasure. I haven't got time to take care of myself and drift back into that temporary zone, especially as Kinders has already broken through into my consciousness reminding me of a meeting scheduled in about 30 minutes.

Not quite sure what to make of our meeting. Kinders and I were summoned to attend a conference call with the heads at Bastion. We're pulling out of our little FOB as apparently our job is done. Our mission was to make sure we brought peace and normality so that the children could go back to school. I can't really see what difference we've actually made especially when we know that Bashira's father, a known sympathiser is still at large which potentially means further instability. I'm sure that the lads won't mind as at least they've got the pizza delivery guy to sort their fast food cravings. We'll wait until Molly and Smurf come back so we can all move across as a unit. I suppose it does make sense that we are on the move. With Bashira's father out there we, or more specifically Molly are potential targets. Naturally I'm a bit more used to this and the idea of being under threat, this is after all what we have trained and prepared for. Molly being the primary focus however does frighten me. As much as I want her to come back to me, I also want to push her away so she isn't in danger. Have I caused this? Has being swapped into our section been a pivotal change? Is my favourite Lady Luck wavering these days?

I'm fuming again. I've just had to pack Mansfield off to see Jackie in the med tent. The dickhead was try to shave gangster nicks in his eyebrows and cut himself. I haven't got the true story but being them I'm sure some sort of prank is involved. I've punished them all with a latrine clean again which serves them right. Mansfield, a gangster from Derby, can't see it myself! I'm on watch this evening so I'm going to grab some shut eye whilst I can.

An uneventful night. Kinders is taking them all on another run tomorrow-further punishment from the eyebrow incident as no-one would own up. There's something about staring out into the desert and the mountains when the sun goes down. Seeing it through Molly's eyes you can see the beauty in the place as the orange hues highlight the edges and the horizon comes to life. The problem with being on watch however is that you are left to question your own thoughts and finally when it goes dark, how alone and vulnerable you feel. I'd wished at that moment she had been standing beside me-in a professional or personal capacity. I wanted nothing more than to watch that sun go down with her and enjoy a moment of complete stillness and calm. I wish my head was in that space now as my brain appears to be working overtime. I want to whisk us away to where it is just the two of us, our own bubble. No army, no warzone, just Molly and Charles as normal people in a civilian world. I've laughed out loud as that used to be one of my biggest fears, giving up the army but now the idea has popped into my head the lifestyle doesn't seem so bad a choice.

Hell why am I even thinking this, she doesn't even know my first name for fucks sake, let alone the fact that I come with almighty baggage of a pending divorce and my gorgeous Sam. I really should send him a letter or something-I can hear my mum nagging me.

Anyway how would we work? Me-private schooled, Sandhurst, officers club. Her-no school/school of hard knocks, London's East End, squaddie. Nope it's just ridiculous. I wish my brain would just shut up and let me sleep.

I'm so glad Kinders took that run this morning as it's given me the chance to lounge in bed for just a spell. I'm cocooned in my sleeping bag sweating buckets, mainly as it's been so hot but also because I've had more steamy dreams about Molly. Taking her hair out of her braid watching it softly cascade onto her shoulders. Her lips calling me. I could feel her warm skin, her eyes sparkling as she grins. I'm closing my eyes again just for five minutes.

This is mental, I'm jerking myself off daily now to made up snapshots of a woman I can't have. I know I have hormones like every other red blooded male and the prospect of constant blue balls is not a happy one for any man but I've never had this problem before. Mainly I suppose I'd turned off any sexual urges in my brain-it's not like Rebecca and I had much of a relationship in the bedroom department and I've definitely not done anything since I moved out. Molly has awoken feelings in me again that I thought I'd shut away.

No distractions makes me a more efficient soldier. It keeps me focused, gets my section in line and keeps my head clear to see the tasks ahead. I've even got Elton John constantly singing in my head. Don't go breaking my heart-it taunts me, both the memory of that night and the potential outcome it predicts.

Coffee, coffee my real true love and she has kicked my arse this morning good and proper. I've compartmentalised everything into a small corner of my head and hung a mental "do not disturb" sign there. I'm pushing all thought away. I'm in charge and I'm going to get on. I've drafted a to do list of all the things we need to get done before we go back to Bastion. I'm going to make Molly do a full medical inventory, the lads are going to sort all kit and weapons. I need the vallons checking and transportation organised. I need a debrief with Captain Azzizi, check in with Major Beck as to our next tasks as well as sort all my own shit out. I'm going to write Sam a letter tonight so I can get it sent as soon as I'm settled back in my portakabin. At least I can close the door there and shut out some of the noises and temporarily transport myself somewhere else for a little while. Best crack on. So much to do, so little time.

It's like working with a bunch of schoolkids this job sometimes. When you need people to listen and knuckle down they start to dick about. I'm sometimes so close to belting one of them round the ear before I have to breathe, count to ten and remember they are adults. That is pushing it sometimes though. I think about Molly's attitude when I first threatened to lob her out of the plane. Yeah she was a bit lippy and I wasn't sure if she could cut it but I'm glad she's proved me otherwise. Don't get me wrong I'm sure she's pushed me to my limits at times. Going up on that helicopter winch when I told her not to. She says she didn't hear me but I know that's total bollocks. Or putting herself at risk of getting red misted when Bashira had that explosive vest strapped to her. I literally shudder at the prospect at what could have happened. I know nothing did happen but that's not the point. If only they all knew how hard they actually make my job. Not that I have any idea what other job I could do bar this-I wouldn't have a clue where to begin to be honest.

Shifting from the FOB feels as if we've come to the end of the tour, even though we aren't there yet. Decompression can't come soon enough for me. Warm Cypriot sand and sea and a few beachside beers. Fuck, now I'm thinking about Molly in a bikini. Christ knows how I'm going to be able to sit about in swim shorts without pitching a tent. That said I'm Smurf will be in a similar position. I know they are apparently best mates but I've heard him with his little bits of "banter" to the lads. I've held my tongue as I know he's just sounding off to them but as a fellow platoon member he needs to show more respect. Listen to my green eyed monster! Come on Charles remember the mantra.

STAY FOCUSED, STAY ALERT, STAY ALIVE.

I finally managed to write my letter to Sam this evening. I've mentioned the weather, the people we've met and my ramblings about Pashto. I enclosed a small pinch of sand so he knows what my Bergen and shoes are full of! Obviously I've not mentioned anything bad and definitely no mention of a particular section member-that would be suicide especially as Rebecca will no doubt be reading over his shoulder. I've asked him to give Nanna and Granddad a hug from me and to be a good boy at school. I've even asked him to think about what he'd like for Christmas.

I love Christmas always have. Probably because I've spent so much time in sunny and sandy areas that cold weather, warm fires and copious amounts of hot chocolate is the total antithesis! Makes me sound a bit pathetic I know but when you're away all the time you have to take pleasure in all those little home comforts. I can't wait for some of my mum's fabulous cooking-if only she could package it up and send some out to me in a parcel.

I'll give all of this up one day. At least I'll get to spend some decent time with Sam. I do feel guilty about that sometimes at how much I've missed of his childhood. God knows if I'll ever get to do that again but I definitely do somethings differently if I had the chance.

Today is technically the fifth working day without our medic. As much as we love Jackie (Dangles most in particular) the other lads are missing the cockney chat and football chat. I'm certain she can swear but than any soldier I've known. I don't know if that's a compliment or a negative trait.

It's going to be another hot day today and I'm sure it's starting to fry some of their brains. Mansfield sounds like he's planning some final farewell big breakfast blow out to beat the sausage challenge before he leaves. I swear I'll be carting him back to the med tent for something to settle his stomach. It's made me wonder how much stuff they have to put in the med kit and supplies in case of any eventuality. I suppose you'll never know if you'll get Delhi belly from one week to the next. I've seen some sights on previous tours of guys who've ingratiated themselves with the locals and accepted their food offerings with genuine thanks only to run to the shitter the rest of the day and then whinge about why we don't have moist toilet tissue! Right time to get organised as we're on countdown. Everyone is assuming countdown is until we leave the FOB. My countdown is until Molly returns.

Everything is going well, rather too well and the cynic in me is waiting for something to go wrong. Injury, sickness or mechanical failure-in my mind I'm seeing mega sand storms that could leave us shut in for hours. But no nothing. I have no idea where this random sense of foreboding is coming from. This tour is turning into one almighty head fuck. Luckily being busy I've channelled all my frustrations into getting stuff done.

Nothing further on the incident at the mountain pass. I'm sure they've just chalked it up as green on green. I doubt the local army will even bother with an investigation. I must admit that that is one of the things that annoy me most is the poor interaction and capabilities of some of the forces and governments we work with. It's often disjointed or poorly managed and to be honest I'm not surprised considering the corruption no doubt and the poor volunteers and reserves who are then stuck doing the hard graft. If there is to be no official enquiry what happens about Rolex boy? Does he have family? Siblings? People who want to know how he died and who will be held accountable? I'm sure the eye for an eye adage would be popular but would you ever get the true answer you were seeking? When Smurf's brother got shot I was determined to take out the bastard that killed him. Maybe that's what makes the British Army the best. Always looking after their own.

As night falls once more we are about 90% done and ready for the off. I've just read over some of the rants I've written about in the past few days. I seem to have a lot of unanswered questions flying round me. I saw Qaseem earlier and he seems the sort of guy I could pour my heart out to. I'm sure he wouldn't judge and would probably have some sage advice for me. There's a man who's been through the ringer and who's experienced both the ultimate highs and low in life. Maybe I should talk to someone, I know I don't need a psychologist and I'm not suffering from any trauma or PTSD. I've seen guys who have and it makes my life look pretty easy. Maybe when I get back home I should have a proper chat with some mates. Elvis maybe but I'm not sure he takes life seriously enough for me. Maybe a heart to heart with my mum or dad. That's potentially embarrassing-hey dad I'm questioning my life in the army oh yeah and there's a girl I've met. I know they love me and I do value their opinions. Oh why can't life just be simple or ordered? I might struggle to sleep again after lights out. Damn ramblings.

I've awoken fairly rested today. No bad dreams and no naughty ones either. Maybe I've finally answered all those nagging doubts and questions. The smell of my coffee brewing has put one big grin on my face. I'm going to enjoy the last couple of days here I think. I might go to the makeshift gym before scoff and watch on with mixed joy and horror at Mansfield this morning.

My stomach has had the best workout in weeks. Not thanks to the gym but to Derby's finest speed eater contestant. Kinders and I were crying with laughter and wiping the tears from our eyes as he tried to see how many boiled eggs he could eat. Obviously the words "Cool Hand Luke" fell on deaf ears. They obviously don't watch the classic anymore or maybe they are just too young. He was doing well up to the halfway point but then the dry mouth kicked in and he started coughing and spluttering before complaining that his stomach was beginning to ache! I'm glad I'm not sharing a tent with him as he is going to be making some almighty smells. At least no medical intervention was required though I think I might prescribe him some fruit to get things moving again so to speak.

I've actually been so cheery I was singing in the shower and we practically had a mini choir going on. The lads have even commented that I seem to have a spring in my step. I have, it's called getting up, getting on and being thankful for what you have. No special potion. No special person.

My good mood has continued as I managed a spot of sunbathing-trying to get at least some part of my torso to catch up with the tan lines on my arms from my t-shirts! I know I shouldn't be lounging but we're up to speed and some down time is much appreciated.

The lads have been playing football with some of the other squads. Once again ridiculous arguments have ensued over which international team is best followed national rivalries. Brains' Liverpool vs Fingers' Man Utd, Mansfield's Derby vs Dangles' Aston Villa. Baz piped up representing West Ham for him and Molly in her absence and then they agreed if Smurf was there Newport County wouldn't count apparently as its non-league.

Football's not really my thing-real men play rugby! I should take Sammy to a game, he's probably old enough now. Some proper father/son time. I can cross another week off the calendar nearly. Another week under my belt and another step closer to going home. I paused looking at the day where Molly is due to return, fiddling with my pen as that feeling of restlessness has re-appeared. I can't wait for her to come back, to complete the team, so we can all go back to being normal. Team James.

Ok, having spent another day with the lads, I'm know that last thing I wrote is utter bollocks. I need her. I need her to come back to me. Yes we're missing people to complete the platoon but I feel I'm now missing a part of myself. I'm missing someone who might actually be in my corner and back me up. To be able to rinse the lads with witty one-liners better than my own. Fate must have thrown her into my lap (figuratively speaking of course but I wouldn't say no) for some reason. Even if it was just meant for me to turn her into an amazing soldier-because she totally has the capabilities to do so. Maybe she was meant to ignore my orders and save Smurf. Maybe she was meant to meet Bashira and help her. Fate has served me well in the past-why should I doubt it now?

Qaseem has mentioned to me that he likes Molly, that she has been the only one to seek him out, befriend him and ask about his life. That both saddens me-that the rest of my team can be so blinkered but also immensely proud at Molly's genuine earnest. It does clearly seem she has a way with the people and makes me want to re-evaluate some of my own thinking and behaviours.

She'll be getting her arse back on the plane soon, no doubt weighed down with a tonne of shite for the lads in her Bergen. Once again I've tried to tune out of the little bits of conversation I've overheard from them. Baz and Nudenut in particular seem to have it in their heads they've spent the whole week shagging each other. It's starting to make me angry and I know it's mainly because it's rude and plain hearsay but if it is the case I'm wanting to punch Smurf and soothe my jealousy wishing she was with me.

You really don't want to see me angry and jealous. Everyone will get the silent treatment and it's not a pretty sight. If I end up brooding on this it's going to take something big to snap me out of it.

What did I say about brooding? A restless night of sleep and I'm still brooding. I was making mental pros and cons lists in my head last night of me vs Smurf. What could she see in him over me? In my mind I out trump him in every way-education, knowledge, rank, money, and hell I'm even better looking! Now I write this it makes me sound like a total dick. If she chooses him over me-that's her loss. I'd be upset but I'd get over it. What would a private see in my anyway? Senior posh boy talking down her, pulling rank and being bossy. I know she respects me as her boss but I'm still just a man after all.

It's been confirmed they should return tomorrow, I've informed Jackie to let her know to pack and to have everything in place to do a handover back to Molly. She asked if I was alright. I've obviously got miserable arse written all over my face. I told her it was nothing a decent cup of coffee wouldn't sort out but I'm down to my last Rosabaya pod and I don't want to waste it if Molly has forgotten.

Would she forget? Her eyes looked truthful and honest when she said she would but maybe she was just saying that? Could she genuinely like me? Is she playing me off Smurf? Shit I'm getting myself mixed up into some weird love triangle. This could ruin things-tours, careers, lives. I've got to keep a lid on this.

I caught a glimpse of myself in my travel mirror and if I don't watch it that furrow on my brow will soon be permanent. I took a good look and noted the lack of confidence in my demeanour. If I don't snap out of this even Kinders is going to notice and will wonder if I'm struggling to cope. I can't mope about like a lovesick teenager anymore.

I think about the values and standards set down by the army. Drilled into me from day one and I'm forgetting them. I need to uphold the reputation of the army, the professionalism, the self-discipline. Morals, ethic and principles. To keep up morale, to give confidence to troops in regard to kit, training and administration. Phrases such as "courage, fortitude and loyalty" spring to mind. Respect for others-both soldier and enemy and those we have been sent to help.

Appropriate behaviour, well there's a difficult one looking at myself in particular. Although nothing has actually happened the consequences if anything did are far too great. The word "misconduct" looms over me. I must set the example, resume high standards and complete my obligations.

Trust-another strong word. I am entrusted with my soldiers lives and they must trust me implicitly also. I am breaching their trust just even thinking about Molly. I know I'm berating myself but if I don't have this frank conversation with myself who knows where it might lead. If someone could slap me right know I'd be glad of it.

I'm sorting myself a timeline so things can progress smoothly and clearly and at least give the lads a heads up so we have some semblance of order. I've called them all to the Ops tent for a briefing this afternoon. Kinders seemed to approve so Im at least appearing to look vaguely commanding on the surface. I'm trying to repeat the British Army mantra "Be the Best" and I must. I'm off to see Azzizi now for our final meeting.

I have my notes from my chat with Azzizi to present later. I've decided I'm going to miss drinking the chai especially as you can't get it at Bastion. I've got a vision of Sohail refusing to make to make one for Molly. He never did appear to be in the best mood, determined our presence had hindered the local community rather than helped. There's been no word or sighting of him. The longer is stays that way the more likely it seems he may have been in league with the Taliban after all. Money can easily buy allegiances here.

Things are winding down for us now but who knows what we'll be doing when we get back to Bastion. I've heard no word since from Major Beck but a feeling in my gut tells me something big is about to kick off. Another reason to keep my shit together. If we are to enter the theatre of war I need to be focused and ready.

I'm amazed! They actually all sat up and paid attention as I laid out the schedule. They are on sentry duty tomorrow-just about the time that Molly and Smurf are due to return. They must pack their kit and then be ready to leave by 05:00 the following morning for the road transportation that will take us on our last tour of the village. The grins on their faces when they heard me confirm our wanderers are all set to come back, maybe I'm not so mad after all and they have truly missed them as much as I have.

I've reminded them that even though operations for us are ceasing here, that we are still on duty and even when travelling are a visual representation of the army. I looked at some of them and advised a few needed a good shave and a decent haircut. No doubt they will all be running around with the clippers. I need a decent haircut myself but I'm not going to let just anyone loose on the James curls! I'll wait until I get home and make an appointment with my regular barber.

So we've eaten our penultimate meal here at the FOB. It's been nice to be seconded out as a smaller group. It's been far more personal and easier to socialise amongst the other platoons. I looked over at the groups eating and watched the camaraderie between them all. Age, race, religion-everyone mucks in and is treated equally. I did laugh and it made me smile, reminding me of my first tour and the lads I worked with. I do miss those days sometimes-life was far simpler. They were the days before Rebecca and Sam (not that I'd trade him for anything) and before I had any responsibility for other soldiers welfare, just my own and my buddies in the section.

My captain was a bit old school-the "treat em mean, keep em keen" type. As much as discipline is required, there were times where he was over the top. I always swore to myself that if I ever rose through the ranks, I'd do it differently.

Here I am sometimes wondering how I ended up with the shower of shite that is 2 Section. They aren't all bad really but not the brightest. Maybe my knack is taking these raw ones and finding that little bit of potential, that one spark they have and encourage them to flourish. Maybe those in higher command saw this quality in me that maybe I couldn't see?

It's another clear night tonight. I'll be staring out into it again tomorrow when I'm on evening watch. It'll be nice to see the sun go down on our last evening-a fitting end to what so far has been a reasonably successful tour. Plus of course Molly will have returned by then. I kind of feel like a kid on Christmas Eve-overly excited for the morning ahead. Sadly no gifts to unwrap, no lie in or massive feast to gorge on.

A bit like the end of Christmas we will all be doing our farewells and goodbyes. I promised to have breakfast with Azzizi tomorrow, a last early morning together. He's done well with poor resources they have and I'm sure they've suffered more casualties on their side than ours. Who knows if we'll get to work together again? The afghan situation is so complicated I still can't work out how or when we will ever pull out completely.

I'd introduce him to the pleasures of my coffee tomorrow if I had any left! I'll just sit back and enjoy the chai instead I think!

Azzizi and I enjoyed some rare peace this morning. Breakfast was a leisurely unhurried and uninterrupted affair. I was glad of it as not only did the quiet chill me out but also cleared my head. I've woken with the jitters. I'm nervous today-me nervous! I'm not sure how I'm going to handle today at all. I'm either going to be happy and relaxed and just go with the flow of our final day-our section back together and all ready to move onto the next phase of our tour. Alternatively I'll see Molly and moon like an idiot or see her with Smurf and see red. I'm not sure I can actually prepare myself until the event arises and I see her/them with my own eyes. Come on James pull yourself together for god's sake

I've been pacing like an idiot. I'm going to be digging a hole in the floor soon enough. I keep checking my watch-time is going so slowly. Fuck this is torture.

I think I can hear a helicopter approaching.

I've quickly stuck my head out and we've definitely got incoming. Ok breathe James breathe, be professional. Oh fuck it who cares-SHE'S BACK! She's come back to me and I'm grinning like a Cheshire cat. I'm going out to be blinded by more flying dust but who cares my favourite medic can always administer me more eye drops!

I hope everyone is enjoying the new series so far-can't believe the first four episodes are nearly all over already! I hope you enjoyed this, I did and loved being back in Captain James' head. Chapter 40 of "I want you to be Brilliant" is half written by the way I promise it'll hit the screens before Christmas!