“Come on – move yourselves. We move out in thirty minutes. Muster’s at o-six-thirty,
so get a bloody move on.”
The white grass crunches underfoot as I respond to the shouts and climb out of the tent. Ten days
we’ve been out, the whole company – ten days hard bloody training. Living in two man bivouacs, and sharing the
tent with a hard frost, as well as your mate, every bloody night.
Back to camp this afternoon, but first we’ve got to cross that bloody stagnant lake. It’s
February, yet it still reeks –last summer the stench was overpowering, and the mosquitoes seemed as big and just as
dangerous as bullets. Now we’ve got a different problem, the cold. If we go into that freezing water, we’d better
get out fast.
“Tomorrow, each section will build a raft and race across the lake,” Major Astle told
us at yesterdays de-brief, “A bit of fun before we go back to camp,” he said.
A bit of bloody fun? The pillock! Doesn’t sound like bloody fun to me – the cold’s
enough to make a brass monkey change its bloody sex. Still, at least he’s picked a narrow bit - it’s only about
four hundred yards – bloody hell, what am I saying, four hundred bleedin' yards in this weather? He’s bleedin'
mental.
“Here, Widge, watch me get Jim Larvin laughing - Excuse me, Sergeant, any chance of laying on
hot water the next time we book in at the lakeside? Because we’ll have to try another hotel otherwise.”
“Shut your gob, Corporal bleedin' Harris, less of the smart arse. Get shaved, get your breakfast
then get your section fell in – sharpish!”
“What’s rattled his cage, Widge? I’m only trying to add a bit of humour.”
“Haven’t you heard? His wife caught him with that new bird from the NAAFI the night before
we left, in the bar at the Excelsior hotel. Hotels aren’t his favourite topic at the minute, cos he’s got hot
water coming out of his bloody ears. The last thing he wants is to go back today, he’s hoping the bloody Russians kick
off so we get shipped straight out.”
“That new bird’s up for it then? I wouldn’t mind a pop at that meself. Come on you
lot, get a bloody move on, we’ve a raft to build and a lake to cross - I’ve got plans for tonight.”
© John Sales 2003.
