An Irish Affair Ch4

         
         
         
         
CHAPTER 4.

Aldershot was a rough town, there was always a fight going on in one of the bars somewhere. If we weren’t fighting with the Hats,(Soldiers from other regiments) we were fighting with each other, usually from one of the other battalions. Pretty much all of the bars in Aldershot belong to the Paras. The hats dare not walk into a Para bar and expect to get out in one piece. Not even the Military Police would walk into one of our bars. There was an incident once, when the regiment returned from a six month tour abroad. The blacks had taken over one of the bars, with two big bouncers on the door who said, “sorry boys but this is our bar now.” With that, the guys went away and came back with a small coke bottle full of petrol. Poured it over one of the bouncers, flicked a lighter and set him alight, then kicked him down a winding staircase into the bar below. They followed him down kicked open the doors and said. “If the rest of you nigger's don’t want to end up like this guy, I suggest you get the fuck out of our bar, now.” They all moved like Jessie Owens straight out the door, never to be seen again. “Don’t fuck with the Paras,” this guy shouted as they ran out the door.

Mac had become my best mate, he had been in the Para’s a year longer than me. He was a tall, stocky guy, but very timid with it. It was great when Mac and I ended up on the D and Ds course. At least we would be able to help each other out, if one of us found ourselves struggling on a specific subject. Not that we needed to bother. We both found the course to be quite easy, and passed without any great difficulty. As courses go, this has to rate as one of the most mundane and easiest courses so far. However, it is a requirement for promotion. So I just had to grin and bare it.  Still, it would be sometime before my OC would consider me worthy of promotion, and put me forward. At least I had the course behind me now, and could get on with doing other things.

********

There was a chance to apply for the Patrols Platoon cadre, coming up in the next few months. So Mac and I decided to put our names forward. The Patrols Platoon is a long-range reconnaissance unit and worked in four man teams. This was a specialized unit and considered the elite of the battalion. I know the course is hard, but I know we are both fit enough. It’s just a case of whether we are experienced enough yet.
I had only been in battalion for two years and Mac for three. You usually had to have at least three to five years under your belt, before applying for this unit. However, they had just lost a few guys, who had left to do the SAS selection course and were finding themselves a little short on manpower.
We both felt if we could do really well on the course they might overlook our inexperience in favor of our abilities. At the end of the day, we just had to prove we were both good enough.

After both being accepted for the course, Mac and I decided to start our own fitness regime in our spare time, in preparation for the course. Running one day, tabbing the next, and spending time in the gym doing weight training and boxing training. Although I knew we were already fit enough to finish the course, I wanted to ensure we were the fittest guys on the course. We really needed to impress and be noticed. However, fitness was only the tip of the iceberg as far as this course was concerned. Tactics plays the biggest part, and differs hugely from what I had been doing in a rifle platoon.
There I was part of an eight-man section. Now I was going to be working in a four-man team. Very similar to how I worked in Northern Ireland, but with little of the tactics used over there.

By the time the start of the course came, my fitness was second to none. I had honed my navigational skills to such a degree I had no lack of confidence moving around, day or night. Unfortunately, I was not privy to what the rest of the course consisted of, except what other guys had told me. However, I heard it changes from course to course. So I was only able to prepare for what I knew. The rest I would have to learn on the course, and that meant I would be on an even par with the other students. Therefore, I needed to ensure I worked that bit harder, in order to shine above the rest.

The range of skills needed to work in this unit is way beyond what I expected. It ranged from medical training. But not just the basics, but all the way up to suturing, intubations, intravenous drips. Way beyond anything I had been taught before. Signal training. This again covered not just the use of normal military radios, but long-range radios using Morse code instead of speech. Then there was the explosives training, covering demolition, ambush methods using only explosives and no manpower. Although all this specialized training was interesting, it was a hell of a lot of information. More than enough to try to take in, never mind trying to shine and stand out. It didn’t take long for Mac and me to realize that all the preparation we thought we had done, wasn’t even going to scratch the surface. It was going to be an even race all the way, and we all need to work just as hard as the next man, just to get through the course.

When I did our drill and duties course Mac and I always found time to go down town for a few beers. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this was not going to be the case on this course. There was just too much to take in, and very little time to do so. I often found myself up till midnight trying to take it all in, and with doing at least two fitness periods a day, I was always very tiered, and found it extremely hard to retain any information given me that day, let alone force even more down me at night.

I had a natural ability for picking up Morse code and so concentrated on honing my skills on this subject. I thought “better to be a master of one subject and average in the others, rather than be a master of none.” Mac struggled with the Morse code, and so I spent some time with him at night going over it, repeatedly. By the end he was by no means brilliant, but would be able to muddle through. His forte was with the explosives, and loved blowing things up.
We both seemed to do ok when it came to the medical side. I soon found to my discomfort that being one of the skinniest guys on the course, my veins stood right out and were perfect as a pincushion for everyone else to use in the practice of putting in Intravenous drips. So my arms were black and blue for quite a few days.

The course was turning out to be one of the best courses I had ever done, and just heightened my enthusiasm to want to join. All I could do was hope I had what it takes.
There were twenty-five of us at the start of the course, and they did tell us at the begining, that they are only looking to take on twelve. We lost five students along the way, either through injury, or were not fit enough. The final exercise will be the crunch, and will decide who will stay and who will go.

This is one week in the Brecon beacons, a mountain range in south Wales, and will prove to be the toughest thing I have ever had to do. The week consisted of tactics, which involved OP’s (Observation Posts,) spending days in a bush. Observing and reporting all activity.  CTRs (Close Target Recces,) getting as close to a target as possible, and reporting on all we see. Also CQB (Close Quarter Battle.) How to fight your way out of a firefight. As we’re only a four-man team, we can’t afford to stay and fight. There just isn’t enough of us. The final subject and which for some proved to be the hardest, was the navigational exercises. This consisted of two navigational courses over the mountain range. One by day which is done in pairs, over fifteen miles. Then one at night, which is individual and is twenty-five miles long. Both are done carrying a rucksack weighing fifty-five pounds. The day course has a time limit of six hours, and the night course a time limit of fifteen hours.

On each course there is checkpoints, where I receive my grid reference for the next one. So I’m stumped, if I don’t find a checkpoint. The thing that probably made this so hard was that on the night navigational course it rained throughout. Which meant visibility was down to about fifteen meters, so I had to rely heavily on my compass. Although this was extremely arduous. It gave me a great sense of achievement when I had finally completed it, and an extreme sense of disappointment for those that didn’t.

Of the twenty that went on the final exercise, all managed to get through the day navigation. Although because this is done in pairs the weaker students had the other guy to rely on. However, the night navigation was very different, only fifteen students managed to finish the course, and of those fifteen, only eight managed to finish within the time limit. Luckily for Mac and me, we were amongst the eight. So the extra fitness and navigational training we put in before the course had in the end paid off.

On return to Aldershot, we were told it would be a couple of days before the decisions were made on who had made it into the unit. So like good paratroopers all the students decided to go down town  for an end of course piss up, and get well and truly rat arsed.

A couple of days later I sat in the classroom waiting for the decision. All they did was call out your name and say IN or OUT. Mac’s name came before mine and as we waited with anticipation I heard his name “Macintosh”. . .  “IN,” . . . Wow! I thought. I could see Mac let out a long breath, and then a big smile appeared on his face.
It seemed forever before they got to me, as my name begins with a W, I would be one of the last to know.  I had been counting how many had already been accepted, and knowing they were only taking twelve. I was beginning to get very anxious; because by the time they were getting close to me, ten people had already been accepted.

“Williams.”

“Yes Sir,” I said, Oh god PLEASE, I was saying under my breath.

“IN.”

“Holy shit,” I said aloud.

“I take it you’re happy then Williams,” said the officer.

“You bet sir,”

“Oh, glad to hear it, and well done.”

“Thank you sir.”

He went on to say.

“For those of you, who didn’t make it, don’t let this get you down. You all showed great potential and would be more than welcome to sit on the next course. Which we will be running next year. Those of you who did make it, well done. You need to go back to your original company’s and hand in your gear. Then you need to move your bed spaces over to C, (Bruneval) Coy, and see the Csgt to be issued with your new gear. Congratulations everyone and welcome to the Patrols Platoon.”

It felt great being a member of this unit. It made everyone else look at you with envy. This also gave me a sense of confidence. It kind of confirmed to me that I must be a good soldier. Only the best get to be a member of this platoon.

“This I think is going to be a good year,” I said to Mac.

“You bet,” he replied.

“Another excuse for a piss up.”

“Like you needed one,” I replied, and laughed.

********

I spent the next couple of months improving on the new skills I had begun to develop during the course. Until they became second nature and when required, are carried out, without hesitation.
Although Mac and I were not in the same team. We remained as close as we ever did, and began to make a few more mates along the way. Especially with the other three members of our teams.
We trained so hard together, in order to gel, so that eventually, I knew automatically what the other guy was thinking. This allowed the team as a whole to react more quickly, and with greater precision. Everything we do must feel natural and, become second nature.

Not long after I passed the course, about eight months, Mac and I were told we were going to have to attend a HALO (High Altitude Low Opening) course. This is a six-week free fall course, with jumps ranging from heights of twelve thousand feet. All the way up to twenty five thousand feet using oxygen, and carrying full equipment and weapons.
For Mac this was the icing on the cake, but for me with my fear of heights. This was not something I was looking forward to, at all. However, there was no way I could show my anxiety to the rest of the guys, so I had to look just as enthusiastic as everyone else. The whole idea behind HALO is that we can use a normal civilian flight plan, and once over the country we want to infiltrate, our teams can drop out undetected. Free fall from twenty five thousand feet, opening our parachute as low as two thousand feet, and no one is any the wiser. 

I must admit that free fall did not come naturally for me. Standing on the ramp of the C130 aircraft looking down twenty five thousand feet didn’t give me any good feelings at all. Looking at the other guy’s, with a false sense of joy in my eyes. While having a deep sense of utter fear, running through my whole body. I was thankful of the oxygen mask covering my face. This I thought at least covered most of the dread that my face must have been showing.
Never have I felt so glad when a course had come to an end. Luckily for me, once I got back to my unit we didn’t free fall as often as some people would have liked, thank god.

********

The following year saw Mac and me pick up our first promotion to Lcpl, which of course, yet again, gave us a great excuse to go down town and celebrate.
So this year was starting on a high too. Let’s just hope it stays this way. I thought.

The year continued on, with a six week trip to Belize, jungle training. Followed by a parachute jump into Egypt culminating in some desert training and some live firing.

Then came the news of our next Northern Ireland tour. Except this time it wasn’t going to be for six months, this time it was for two years, stationed in east Belfast. This meant it would be an accompanied tour, and that families come too.
I was informed our unit, the Patrols platoon would be going on a COP (Close Observation Platoon) course, four weeks before the battalion was to deploy over to the province. This yet again, meant learning a whole new set of skills.  This job however, would rely a great deal on the skills I had learned whilst being in this unit, but now I was told. I would also have to become a photographer, and film maker.

“Fuck me, it just gets better. So now being a soldier isn’t enough, I also have to be David fucking Bailey as well”

Mac laughed. “Jack of all trades master of none.”

“Your not fucking wrong,” and laughed with him.

“Airborne all the way.” Mac said.

“Yeah, cry havoc and let lose the fucking photographers.”  I said,

We both rolled around in a fit of laughter.

It was going to be about four months before I started the COP course. However, the battalion including us would begin preparatory training two months before that. There was a lot to do, as we would be moving not only the soldiers, but their wives and kids too. At least I would be getting four weeks leave before I deployed. This was plenty of time to squeeze in a good holiday abroad, and get some sunshine, booze and of course pussy.
A welcome change from the local town bikes. Those girls have had more pricks than a second hand dartboard. Still any port in a storm. Beggars can’t be choosers, I keep telling myself. Especially in the morning when I wake up from my drunken stupor to see what I’d gone to bed with the night before.

“I’m sure she didn’t look that bad last night,” I’d say to the lads when they started giving me shit over her. “Oh yeah, Like you lot have never been there.” I’d say, and laugh.