ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold (15 page)

He packed away the phone.  ‘It seems I’m once more in your debt Mr. Murison.’

‘What’s going on here and for god sake stop calling me Mr., I’m getting sick of it.’

‘May I call you James then?’

‘Certainly Andrew, call me what you damn well like.’

He grinned at my cheek.  ‘OK James, I’m afraid I can’t give you any details.  Suffice to say we have had a nice little spy ring in operation around here, for some time now and couldn’t quite get a handle on it.  You may inadvertently have given us that handle.  I can manage this pair from here.’

‘You sure.’

‘Certainly.’  He pulled an automatic from an inside pocket and jacked a round into the chamber.

‘OK, but I’ll be outside just in case.’ 

He never ventured any more information, but after I’d known him for some while, he told me the full story.  Information had been leaking slowly from a source in H.Q. Scotland.  They had tracked down an American operative to a gay bar in Edinburgh but couldn’t find the source.  At one time they had every known gay at H.Q. under surveillance never realising the real culprit was in actual fact dating the most desirable woman there.

‘Thank you.’  He nodded.

‘Come on Sam.’ I hustled her outside and ran right into a startled Molly.  The sight of the knife in my hand drained the colour from her face; any second now and she could start screaming.  ‘Hi Molly.’  I cried cheerfully, ‘May I borrow your tea towel for a second.’  Without waiting for an answer I plucked it off her arm wiped the blade and handed it back.  ‘I would disinfect that before using it again, in fact I’d probably burn it.’

‘What have you been doing?’

‘Oh just finishing Martins shave.’  That brought the colour back with a titter.  I slid it back into its sheath just in time.  My old friend Graham came crashing through the door, with the big MP hard on his heels.

‘Oh shit!’  Both went for their side arms simultaneously.  Pretty nifty they were too.  I wondered how many hours they had spent in front of a mirror.  The ladies had frozen in horror.

‘Nay me, in there.’  I indicated with my head.

‘Cpl check it out.’

‘Yes sir.’  Which he did in true MP fashion, half kicking the door off its hinges?

‘Oh well done Cpl Williamson, here at last, never mind but do try and remember this is the officers mess and we have handles on our doors.  Is Captain Stewart there?’

‘Eh, yes sir.’  The red-faced Cpl stuck his head back round the door.  ‘In here sir.’

‘OK Cpl I’m coming.’  He reluctantly put the pistol away.  ‘I need a statement from you.’

‘What for?’ 

‘ND.’

‘Shove it.’

‘Look.’

‘No you look, it was my head, and I don’t want to play your silly games.  Let the laddie be, he showed more gumption than you.’

He was angry now.  ‘One of these days, so help me god.’

‘You’re praying to the wrong deity laddie, god sacked me a long time ago.’  He didn’t have time to argue longer, turning away he entered the bar.  ‘Come on; let’s get to fuck out of here while the going’s good.’

We fled off across the grass heading for the jocks mess, ignoring the sound of running feet behind us.  We walked in silence for the most part.

‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted out eventually.  She stopped, not looking very happy and shrugged.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

That wasn’t quite the response I was expecting.  I frowned.  ‘I’ve just destroyed your life and it doesn’t matter.  You don’t want to scream and shout, jump on my head, nothing.’

A small smile crept in.  ‘No.’

‘I don’t understand.  You were engaged weren’t you?’

‘No we’d been talking about it, well he had been.  I wasn’t so keen.’

‘Oh I see, weren’t you in love with him.’

She shifted uncomfortably.  ‘No it wasn’t like that, he wasn’t like other men.’  I bit my tongue.  ‘He didn’t keep trying to, oh god it’s so bloody obvious now - but being with him -.  No wonder he never pestered me for sex.  How did you know they were gay?’

Now it was my turn to feel uncomfortable, but I told her anyway.  She burst out laughing.  ‘I dinna think it was that funny,’ I grumped.  It seemed to make Sam worse; her laughter was tinged with hysteria.  I said nothing more, letting her get it out ó her system.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh.’

I shrugged.  ‘Forget it.’  I turned away but she never moved, forcing me to stop.  ‘What is it?’  It was obvious she wanted to ask something awkward.  ‘If ye dinna ask lass, you’ll never know the answer.’

She stopped the dance of indecision and turned scarlet.  ‘Do all men look like that?’  I frowned not quite picking up her meaning.  ‘You know, down there.’  I got her meaning.  I took a deep breath to answer, then stopped as the full implications of her question slammed home.  I could feel my own face heat up.

‘Noo, only until they reach puberty.  I think captain Pearce has a medical problem there.’

‘Oh, do they—’

‘Grow bigger!’

‘Eh yes.’

‘Aye a lot bigger.’

She nodded to herself.  ‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Sam.’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you a virgin?’

She went scarlet.  ‘Yes.’

‘How old are you,’ I asked incredulously.

‘Twenty three and it’s not a bloody crime you know,’ she snapped.

‘No you’re right, it’s not, as a matter of fact I find it very admirable.’

‘Oh.’

‘Come on let’s get going.’

‘How did he get in?’

‘Who, Pearce?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Don’t they - well test?’

‘What the old cough test?’

‘Yes.’

‘No, they don’t do that anymore.  I think my generation were about the last to go through it, it’s considered unethical now.’

‘Oh - I didn’t know.’

‘Well it’s something that’s not often talked about.’  Oh god a twenty-three year old virgin, they were going to eat her alive.

I heard the bastards long before I saw them.  My guts slid in trepidation, I could tell by the dirty laughs they were at it.  Most of them were sitting round an old guy ripping the shit out of him.  It was something they habitually did to anyone trying to join our small tight knit group.  Push them; find out how much they could take.  Find their weaknesses and probe them.  Would they run, would they fight, could they be depended upon in a tight corner?

The old guy was as white as a sheet and looked ready to bolt.  He clutched a small book to his chest as though his life depended upon it.  ‘Oh dear I can’t answer that.’

‘Of course ye can, it’s easy, yes or no and I’ll sign your book,’ another round of raunchy laughter.

‘Ooh dear ‘

The group round the table hadn’t noticed us coming in but Abie had and finally found his voice.  ‘Fucking hell looks at the tits on that.’

Heads spun and voices rose in surprise.

‘Holy shit.’

‘Far did ye find the field mattress Jim?’ 

‘Two’s up.’

‘Three’s up.’

‘Four’s up.’

‘Oh dear,’ stammered the old fellow standing ready to bolt.  One look at Sam’s face told me she was ready to do the same.  I was in near panic myself, we needed these two, but they had to be able to hold their own ground.  Aid came from an unexpected direction.

Abie was on full grotty now.  ‘I’ll have soggies to, me next, me next.’  There was a sharp crack and he howled with pain, the old lady behind the counter stood with a long plastic rod in her hand.  ‘That was bloody sair,’ he accused.

‘Aye and I should think so too.  That over there is our Samantha and she’s a proper lady so you’d better treat her like one our you’ll have me to answer to young man and the same goes for the rest of you.’

Abie wasn’t going to be out done though, taking a step back out of range he whirled and gave Samantha a full on Moiré.  But he wasn’t going to get away with it; his protagonist launched herself across the counter.  The second crack was even louder than the first; it sent him crashing to the floor howling in agony. 

It was hysterical.  She was leaning across the counter poking him with her rod.  Each prod provoked a squeal.

‘Apologise to Miss Samantha you grotty little pig.’

‘Ay, ah, stop it stop.’ 

‘Apologies.’

‘OK, OK, I’m thorry, I’m thorry.’

Another poke another yowl.  ‘I’m sorry Miss Samantha.’

‘Alright, alright.’  He heaved himself out of reach.  ‘I’m thorry Miss Samantha.’

I felt the tears course down my face; he’d bitten his tongue.  Something we’d tried for years to get him to do.

‘Gentlemen, may I introduce Lt Samantha Bryce.’  I was still laughing.  ‘You must be Reginald.’

‘Yes sir.’  He stood to attention, which kept the laughs going. 

I held my hand out.  ‘Jim.’

‘Oh.’  He accepted it hesitantly having to swap the book round.  His grip was firm and his hands were as calloused as any workman’s.  A strange paradox, his looks suggested anything but.  ‘Please sit.’

‘Thank you sir.’

‘Let me let you into a little secret Reginald, if you insist on calling me Sir you’ll be the only one here who does and they’ll probably take the piss out of you for it.’

He gave a little shrug.  ‘I don’t mind sir.’

‘Well please yourself.  May I.’

He placed the book into my outstretched hand.  It was a small volume of poems.  Ode to the jocks, by George Chambers, it had been beautifully bound in gold leaf.

‘I’ve never seen this addition before.’

‘I had it specially done for my wife’s birthday.  She loves it, we both do.’

‘It’s lovely and now all you need to perfect it is a small dedication from the man himself.’

‘Well I thought….’  He trailed off.

I scowled at Gigs who smirked back.  ‘Have you seen the effort this man’s gone to?’

‘Aye bonny init.’

‘And ye won’t even scribble your name on it?’ 

‘Mith spile it.’

I took a rough swing at him- he dodged it easily enough.  Reginald almost had a heart attack.  ‘Will ye just sign the man’s book for him?’

‘Ah nah.’  He laughed.  ‘He still hasn't answered my question.’

‘Oh and what was it’

‘Oh dear.’

‘I just wanted to know if his wife gives head.’

Laughter erupted again.  ‘Oh dear.’

‘Gigs, his generation practically invented it, just sign the fucking book.’  I handed it over and still laughing he produced a beautiful gold pen and started to write.  A couple of minutes later he handed it back to Reginald who with perhaps a little trepidation at first read it.  His face relaxed.

‘It was Anna wasn’t it.’  Gigs asked after the fact.

‘Yes, yes Mr. Chambers it is, this verse is just beautiful, but what’s this.’  Gigs offered over the beautiful pen.  ‘I can’t accept that.’

‘Then I’ll have to scribble out the PS,’ that put him in a bit of a quandary.  Gigs placed the pen down beside the book.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Then say fuck all.  What’s happening Jim?’

I gave a quick rundown on what had been happening and our task for the afternoon.  ‘What time is it?’  I finished.

‘Dinnertime,’ growled Grizz.  That got a laugh.  ‘Whit I’m getting hungry aright.’ 

‘Fuck sake Grizz, ye just cleared the NAAFI out ó hot pies ye greedy fat bastard.’  Prodded Nommy.

‘Starters.’

‘Well we’d better get ye back and fed.  Sam can you give that four tonner a call and I’ll introduce you round while we’re waiting.’

The four tonner duly came but by that time Sam had got a little of her own back on Abie.  ‘I’m not the oldest fitba player in the world,’ he grumped as he climbed in, ‘but I am the youngest Manager,’ he insisted.  She’d set him up like a Trojan then brought him down in that sweet innocent way only women can.  Maybe she would survive after all.

CHAPTER 15

A big argument broke out when we hit camp.  Buff and I tried slipping off to the jock’s mess with the rest, having removed our badges of rank first.  Eventually after a fair slagging, we were dragged off to our respective messes under protest and made to re-don our badges of rank.  Sam was chatting gaily as we entered the mess, while I was in a sulk bit not for long.

‘Murison, is that you.’

I looked in surprise as I recognised the voice.  ‘Christ its Mr. Johnston.’

‘My god man it is you, how have you been keeping?’  We shook hands warmly.

‘I’ve been fine, you?’

‘Fine, fine,’ he noticed my epaulettes.  ‘You are an officer now that’s fantastic- when did this happen?’

I was surprised by his enthusiasm.  ‘The manny D’Ord did it today and this is my mentor Samantha Bryce.  She’s dragging me around teaching me my P’s and Q’s and showing me what forks to use.’

That seemed to delight him.  ‘Yes I know Samantha, how are you keeping Sam?’

‘Fine sir.’

‘Tell me has anyone collected the kitty yet?’  She flushed crimson. 

‘No sir, not yet.’

‘Well you’re treading dangerous waters now, eh Murison.’  I frowned.  ‘What, hasn’t anyone told you?’

‘Please sir if you’ll excuse me, I have something to do.’

‘Certainly, I’ll see you later.’ 

She scuttled off smartish.  ‘Kitty!’  I enquired, already sensing what it was.

‘Yes.’  He grinned wickedly.  ‘It seems our Samantha’s a bit of a phenomenon.  All the junior officers up at HQ have laid a little wager with one another and a few of the senior ones.  Pound a week, winner takes all.’

‘That’s terrible,’ I grinned back, ‘how many of them?’

‘I have no idea but it’s been going now for over a year and twice they’ve had to go out and purchase new jars.  It was a big brown terracotta vase they bought last time.’

I thought for a second.  ‘Whit that big ugly thing sitting in the corner by the window?’

‘Yes that’s it.’

‘Fuck sake, it’s almost the height of me.’  We laughed together.

‘Yes and it’s filling fast, would you like a quick drink before we eat?’

‘Non-alcoholic, I could be driving later.’ 

We sat at the bar nursing a coke and caught up with the news.  He was a Lt Colonel now in charge of Glencourse training depot.  It was soon obvious he didn’t have a clue about what was going on.  All his recruits had been removed to Aberdeen and now he had close to a thousand ex-soldiers, three times as many as normal.  He was relieved to know we were moving out.

‘We’ll fill it with bunk beds and squash them together; god knows what we’re going to do about lockers, put them in the corridors probably.  So what sweet little task has our lord and master given you?  I believe I am to be chief marquis putter upper.  Are you in charge of the G10 chemical toilets and canvas partitions?’ 

Laughing I gave him a rough outline of what we were doing, without revealing any of our real objectives.’

‘But that’s a real job!’ he objected, ‘swap.’

‘No chance, besides…’

‘That’s transport for this afternoon confirmed, we’ve just to pick it up,’ Sam interrupted before I could say anymore.

‘We’d better get you fed then.  Come on, you can both join me at the top table.’  It left me a little agitated, how could I convey a sense of urgency without giving the whole game away.  The opportunity came during the meal.

We got caught up in memories laughing and joking.  He near ended himself when I had produced my big black mug, which I’d collected from my locker and asked the waiter-to fill it with coffee.

It started an old ritual.

‘Tonto.’

‘Yes kemosabe.’  I fell into it easily.  It was also good for a laugh.

‘I need the wisdom of the great fathers Tonto.’

‘Speak kemosabe, great fathers listen.’

‘By the end of the week I’ll have over a thousand idol hands Tonto.  When I ask white chiefs what to do with these hands they say be productive, use my imagination do what can be done.  Maybe the great fathers will have better words of wisdom.’

‘Huh, listen kemosabe, great fathers speak.’  I punctuated the words with actions, bringing a hand to my ear.

‘What do they say Tonto?’

‘Say nothing, ask question.’

‘Ask great fathers.’  The younger officers looked on in astonishment first, then in growing amusement.

‘Great fathers ask what kind of tepee this?’

‘This tepee for training great warriors Tonto.’

‘Ugh, great fathers ask second question.’

‘Ask great fathers.’

The panto was in full swing now we had everyone’s attention.  ‘Great fathers ask what kind of staff kemosabe keeps in great tepee?’

‘Staff of great tepee train warriors Tonto.’

‘Then great fathers ask, where’s kemosabe fucking problem then?’

Samantha choked on a mouthful of water and the adjutant whom I’d displaced had to pat her on the back.  The CO was looking hard at me as I sipped at my black coffee.  ‘Hmm, I wonder.  Adjie?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Come Monday morning do you think we could initiate a full training program as from week one?’

The adjutant shrugged, ‘Well that’s what we do here sir, although I doubt if we’ll have to start at week one.  I think the biggest problem will be fitness.’

The CO nodded, ‘yes good point, we could tick test the lot of them, find out how much they’ve forgotten, how much they remember.’

The adjutant warmed to the idea, ‘We could start this afternoon.  At end of play today-we could fire their answers through the computer and have an altogether better idea of what they need.’

The CO linked his fingers together and tested his chin on them.  ‘Yes and if we all work at it over the weekend we could end up with tailor made training programs.’  That set them off and I was left in peace to drink my coffee for a while.

‘What’s the matter Mr. Forsyth you don’t seem very enthusiastic,’ the CO asked a rather glum looking junior officer. 

‘Well sir,’ he looked around nervously.  It wasn’t the most comfortable thing to be picked out of the crowd.  ‘I don’t want to put a downer on this.’

‘Speak up man, if you can foresee any problems I would rather hear them now, than run slap bang into them later.’

That seemed to reassure him a little.  ‘Well how are we going to motivate them?  Most of mine are already starting to complain about being hi-jacked to shovel shit as they put it.  Do the great fathers have any advice for us mere mortals?’ 

The CO raised an eyebrow. 

I put my big mug down with a grimace, placing my fingers on my forehead I closed my eyes and lowered my head for a little dramatization.  I thrust my fists forward.  ‘Ha great fathers here wailing of squaw.’  A roar of laughter burst forth across the table at the now crimson-faced Mr. Forsyth.  ‘But will answer squaw’s question.’  I opened my left fist.  ‘All young warriors enjoy good health, big muscle, much beer, play much football, chase many squaw round tepee.’  I opened my right fist.  ‘Old warrior have no muscle, drink too much beer, have big belly, only watch football.  Fat squaw much migraine.’  The laughter kept coming.  ‘Great fathers say all old warriors have dream one day maybe strong again, have big muscle.  Maybe see willy again, play much football, chase new squaw round tepee.’  The laughter increased and a few fists banged on the table to add to the chorus of their approval.  When it quietened down a little, another voiced a question at me. 

‘The great fathers may be right, but it won’t stop them complaining.’  It went silent as they waited for an answer.

I was getting a little fucked off with it now and decided on a bog standard answer straight from the military manual.  I fixed him with a dirty look.  ‘Great fathers say, old warriors shimf, heap plenty happy, also say tired now want rest, work out own fucking problems.’  I dismissed them with a wave of the hand and went back to finishing my coffee.  They surprised me with a round of applause.  The CO laughed at my surprise.  ‘Welcome to the mess Jim.’

The atmosphere became relaxed, with suggestions being fired back and forth across the table.  Some asked what I was doing and the CO fobbed them off with my cover story.  Samantha was getting a lot of attention and seemed to be enjoying it. 

‘That sounds encouraging Jim.’

‘Sorry, what does?’  I turned back to the CO. 

‘Mr. Forsyth’s saying the two things his bunch have taken to are the battle simulators and playing football.’

‘That’s right sir, one half think their Rambo and the other Abie Ritchie.’  That was an interesting tit bit.  ‘The impression I’ve been getting is most haven’t had a chance of a good game in years.’

Another joined in.  ‘Some of them are already talking about forming a league and taking on the other platoons.’

‘So what do they think of this Abie Ritchie?’  I butted in. 

‘He was supposed to have been a soldier once wasn’t he.’

‘He was, in my Regiment.’  Mr. Forsyth put across.  That set them off arguing, it seemed they all wanted to claim a part of him.  Ex-jock turned good seemed to go down well.

‘He couldn’t have been; there’s no sign of him here.’

‘Some say they’ve seen him.’

‘Well he’s not in my platoon.’

‘Or mine.’  The negatives ran round the table.

I grinned at Sam.  ‘What on earth are you up to now?’  She smiled back. 

The CO, who’d joined in the fray insisting Abie had been a part of his platoon in Germany, caught the byplay.  ‘What?’  He asked.

I laughed.  ‘You’re looking for ways to motivate them, aye?’

‘Yes, have you a suggestion.’

‘Maybe, how would you like to dangle a big fat juicy carrot?’ 

‘I’d love to, but what’s the carrot?’

The men sitting next to me had caught something going on and shushed the rest up.  I carried on in an expectant silence.  ‘Someone mentioned an end of term competition kind of thing, didn’t they?’ 

‘Yes, Couple of crates of beer, tankards that sort of thing.’

‘What say you if I could arrange for the winning platoon to play the European champions.’

There was a moment’s stunned silence, ‘Jesus!’ somebody exclaimed.  Others joined in but were quickly quietened.

‘Could you?’  The CO asked.

‘Well I suppose I’d have to ask their Manager.’  I took out my phone and the small piece of paper they’d written their numbers on.  ‘I don’t know if I can get the full team, but I might get you a five aside.’

‘Use mine.’  The CO produced his phone and pushed a few buttons.  The dialling tone blared out at me.  ‘That turns it into a speaker phone, this way there will be no doubters.’  He scowled down the table.

I tapped in Abie’s number and he turned the volume up full.  The ringing of Abie’s phone was loud in the dining room.  ‘Hello, Abie Ritchie speaking,’ he answered very politely.

‘Aye Abie its Jim.’

‘Aw, whit the fuck do you want, can ye no gee us two minutes peace.’

‘In your fucking dreams, listen guess who I’m talking to, do you remember the manny Johnston our PC in Germany?’

‘Johnston.’  I could almost hear his mind tick over.  ‘Johnston, oh fuck aye, Johnny J.’

‘Aye that’s him.’

‘How is the old bastard?’

‘I’m fine Abie how are you?’

‘Great you got this on speaker phone?’

‘Yes that’s right.’

‘Brilliant, what are ye doing these days?’

‘Well I’ve just taken over as CO at Glencourse.’

‘Bummer eh.’  He laughed.

I interrupted, ‘Abie.’ 

‘Aye Jim.’

‘Mr. Johnston here’s been put in a bit ó a spot.  He’s been landed with all these bodies and hasn’t been told what to do with them.  So he’s decided to put them through basic training again.  He’s also organizing a platoon competition.  How would you fancy getting together with a few ó your boys and taking on the winning platoon at a wee fitba game, even if it’s only five aside.  Would you be able to do that?’ 

‘I don’t know, I suppose I could.’

‘That would be great.  It’s Just that a’ the officers here think, it would gee the Jocks the kind of incentive they’d need to really work hard.’

A cacophony of shouting, stomping and banging broke out spontaneously around the table rising to a crescendo. 

I could just make out Abie laughing.  ‘OK, OK.’  The CO called for silence.  ‘I’ll tell you whit Johnny, gie’s a second till I look something up.’  It sounded like he was fishing out that bloody diary of his.  ‘Here we go, let me see, one, two, three, here it is, a week before the big parades I’m supposed to host fitba day.  That’s when a’ the top players get together to choose this year’s national team.  We try out different combinations of players.  Five aside matches all that kind of thing, it’s also being held in Edinburgh this year so that’s no problem.  I think just about anybody that can play could have a game and I could promise the winning platoon a match against the new national team.  Would that help?’