The Cottage in Bluebell Woods

This bloody wood seems to go on forever. Hold on, what’s this? Looks like a clearing about fifteen metres ahead; trees thinning, faint whiffs of smoke and I’ve had that lousy smell up my nose for the last fifty - this has to be the spot.

Hand above my head then down to my side. Good lads, they’ve all disappeared - got a couple of sprogs, but so far so good, they’re all in cover. Now I'll move forward and have a shufftie. Keep low, watch the edge, don’t show yourself. This’ll do, a nice thick bush. I can see the lot from here. The boss wants a sit-rep – let’s hope this’ll bloody well do him?

"Jackdaw junior to Jackdaw leader, signals. Over."

"Hello Jackdaw junior this is Jackdaw leader, receiving. Over."

"In position, boss, looks like you were right. I’ve got a clearing about 100 metres by 60, open at one end, the grass is short and the ground’s pretty flat except for what looks like some dead ground about eighty metres towards the open end. There’s the remains of a cottage about ten metres from my position, still smoking slightly, but not enough for a screen - that accounts for the explosion we heard last night. I can see three, no, four bodies close to the cottage. Christ they look like Serb regulars; some bought it inside the cottage, though, in the fire - I’ve been able to smell ‘em for the past fifty metres. Perhaps it was a full section? Over."

"Intel said they had info that they were around, setting up ammo dumps. Sounds like they might have had a premature detonation. Sorry, Sergeant, you’ll have to go in-situ, to check. I'd come up myself - but no time. Be careful, Sergeant, remember your six Ps. Over."

"Roger that, Sir. Listening out."

Shit, we’ve got to break cover. Best get the gimpy set up to cover that dead ground. Fist up, then five fingers on top of my head. Come on, Smudge, watch for my signal, you git - try again: fist, fingers, top of head – that’s better, they’re on their way.

"Smudge, I’ve got to go forward and do a recce, so move round to the right about sixty and set up, but don’t break cover. I’ll send Bob about forty to the left. I’m worried about that dead ground. My arse is going to be well exposed – so any sightings of Serbs, don’t wait for orders just open up, but only to keep their heads down, mind. I know it contravenes ROE's but I’d rather face a court martial than a body bag - these guys might be regulars. Take your time, I don’t want anybody to know we’re here until I break cover. Two whistle blasts and we re-group here, this is the RV, we go in ten. OK? Now move."

Five fingers high this time, then onto the top of my head - that should bring five riflemen straight to me, or else.

"Bob, looks like they might be regulars, I’ve got to do a recce. Smudger’s setting up about sixty to the right, I’m worried about that dead ground. Take Crawshaw and Maxfield and move about forty to the left without breaking cover, that should give you a good angle, you should be able to see most of it from there. Bob, if anything moves send a runner - only open up if it gets hairy - Smudger will keep their heads down. Two whistle blasts and get back here sharpish, this is the RV. I’ll take the two sprogs, we go in eight, now move."

"Searle, if you get any closer to me, we’ll be able to swap spit – spacing, lad, spacing - when we get back, I’m going to stick my prick in your ear and shag some sense into you, lad. We’re going out to check who these wankers are, and if I see either of you two turn a body over then I’m going to shoot you meself. I’ll check all the bodies, they might be booby-trapped. If we’re not sure, whether they’re dead or not, what do we do Searle?"

"We stick ‘em with our bayonet, Sar’nt."

"Correct - you’re not as thick as you look, Searle. But that would be impossible, wouldn’t it, lad?"

"Yes, Sar’nt."

"Right, all I want you two to do is cover our arses. Searle, you go to the back wall of the cottage on the right. Adams, you go to the left. Bob’s forty to the left, Smudger’s sixty to the right, which means the front is covered. So, all you two comedians have to do is sweep the RV to make sure nobody gets behind us, that’s the area that we’ll have just come from, the area we’re in now, but no firing unless I say so. If you see anything, let me know immediately. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT open fire without orders. Got it?"

"Yes Sar’nt."

"Right, check your magazines, fix your bayonets, leave your packs here. All set? Now we wait til the lads are in position, keep your eyes peeled, stay sharp, remember your training and you’ll be fine. We go in five."

Just look at this place, we could be in England. I could be in bloody Hesley woods. You can’t beat the woods in early spring, bluebells laying their rich carpet; I’ve always been amazed at just how blue they are. New shoots on the trees, although we could do with a few more, at the minute, for better cover. Birds singing and building their nests - all this new life surrounding all this death and destruction. Jesus, I wish I didn’t think so bloody much.

That cottage, not much left, I wonder if they call ‘em cottages round here? I hope the poor bastards got out before the Serbs came. Jesus, I hope that’s not them I can smell. I hope to Christ it’s a Serb’s hide that’s causing that stench, my brother once asked me to describe it, I can’t I told him - roast human flesh has a smell all of it’s own. I hope I don’t find a family in the middle of that lot - if I ever catch any of these Serb bastards at it, I’ll…

Steady, you’re thinking again. You’ve got enough on, worrying about these sprogs, without worrying about civvies as well. Time to move.

"Right, you two, remember your spacing and them bloody booby-traps, now follow me - at the double."

Good lads, done exactly as they were told. Here’s the first body – he’s definitely dead – half his bloody head’s missing. Check for wires – OK. Peek underneath – not laid on anything? Good, now I can turn him over. Serb regular officer, I thought so. Captain eh? Never make Major now, old pal.

Search his pockets for Intel. Wallet, photos – two kids eh? Never mind, I’m sure they’ll be happy with the medal they send ‘em. What’s this? Jesus - maps and notes, I can’t read this bloody gibberish but it looks like the layout for all the dumps these bastard have been setting up. Got to get this back, sharpish.

Quick check inside the cottage, no civvies; thank Christ for that, just two more Serbs caught in the blast.

Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat. What the…? Christ, Smudger’s opened up. Through the cottage, to the front wall, God, the stink in here. I can just make out a bit of movement in the dead ground. Rat-a-tat-tat, Smudger’s keeping their heads down when they try to come forward, good lad. Here’s the runner from Bob.

"Talk to me, Maxfield, what’s happening?"

"Serbs, Sar'nt. Looks like a full platoon in the dead ground. They’re flapping a bit, Smudger’s got ‘em rattled."

"They’re regulars, it’ll not take ‘em long to get organised. Right, get back to Bob, tell him to get back to the RV, pick up the two sprogs, and then move back down the track for about eighty metres - to cover us when we come through. Tell him to watch the sprogs don’t loose off - at us. You take ‘em with you now, tell ‘em to get their packs and mine and to wait at the RV till you get back with Bob. Now Move!"

"Good luck, Sar’nt."

"Jackdaw junior to Jackdaw leader, signals. Over."

"Hello Jackdaw junior, this is Jackdaw leader, receiving. Over."

"They are Serb regulars, boss. Looks like I’ve got the whole layout for the dumps off of a dead Captain. But there’s a full platoon looking to get the notebook back. They’ve advanced to contact, and the gimpy's keeping their heads down for the moment. I’ve sent most of the section back down the track to cover our withdrawal, but I’m worried they’ll twig on, with ‘em being regulars, and give us no time. Over."

"Well done, Sergeant, I’ll drop a few mortars near to ‘em, that should make ‘em stop and think, and give you enough time to get clear. Over."

"Roger that, Sir, give us five minutes then hit grid reference 2er9er5er6er7er4er, that should hit the cottage, about eighty from their position in the dead ground. Over."

"Roger that, Sergeant, five minutes from my mark, grid reference 2er9er5er6er7er4er. Don’t hang about, the shit's on its way. MARK - Listening out."

Whistle to mouth, one blast, two blasts. Give Smudger two minutes to get to the RV then I’m out of here. So far so good, one more minute. Shit, they’re having a look, nosy bastards – BANG – BANG – BANG; three rounds over their heads should do the trick. Yep, they’ll not do that for a few more minutes, if they’re caught with the mortars it’ll serve the bastards right. There’ll be an enquiry if we kill any, but who gives a fuck? It’s about time these bastards got a taste of their own………That’s it, time’s up, I’m off.

"Come on, Smudge, back down the track at the double. Bob’s down there to cover us, there’s going to be all hell let loose round here in a minute. GO, GO, GO."

"Nice one, Sergeant, a job well done. Intelligence are having orgasms over that notebook. No casualties, we didn’t kill any Serbs, everybody’s happy. Here’s a can, you’ve earned it. Wish I’d been with you."

"Come off it, boss, why would you want to spoil my little bit of fun? Anyway, didn’t I bring you back a nice bunch of bluebells?"