At each stop they would listen whilst in all round defence, for upto fifteen minutes, for any sound that was out of place; in that time it is not unheard of for tired soldiers to fall asleep.
At the end of the last leg before the FRV, Colin did not receive his confirmatory nudge despite repeating it again, so he went looking for the broken link in the chain. Number eleven had fallen asleep, he awoke to find the blade of Colin’s fighting knife against his jugular. The CSM put his lips next to the man’s ear and whispered.
“If I ever catch you asleep on duty again sunshine, you’ll need a hundred fucking years of beauty sleep to sort the mess I’ll make of your face… understand?”
Although they were not the only patrol out that night, both sides had ambush, fighting and recce patrols out, they neither saw nor heard anyone.
They stopped again just short of the chosen FRV location whilst Colin went forward to recce it. They would be here for much longer than the previous, end of leg RVs, he had to confirm its suitability and check there were no enemy camped on the doorstep.
He used both binoculars and his MIRA night sight to scan for trouble, binoculars magnify the available light, ergo it is easier to see with them at night, they pick out detail lost in the mixture of green shades you see when using a night sight. Day or night, the correct way to scan is to break up the panorama into three areas, near, middle and distant. Its common sense that you start looking close to home, near distance before checking middle distance then the far distance, with any other combination you may find yourself staring at the horizon when someone taps you on the shoulder, uttering the words “For you zee vor ist over!”
He returned to the patrol and was challenged by the lead man, at night or in poor visibility it is foolish to assume the figure approaching you is the one you are expecting. If all cats look grey in the dark, then the same holds true for soldiers of opposing armies.
The simplest, yet secure method of challenging is to employ the number variation method. He had picked the number 42 for this patrol, the patrol members had been given it at the briefing. The lead man challenged Colin by saying.
“Thirty?”
Colin replied
“Twelve”.
He could have picked any number up to 41 to challenge with; Colin merely added the figure that added it up to forty-two.
In the FRV they still lay listening for ten minutes before dividing into their three groups, dropping off their bergens, less side pouches of course. The three men in the rear protection party stayed put whilst the fire support group went north and Colin’s snatch squad went east.
According to the Recce Platoon, there was a field that had a sharp rise that elevated it above the surrounding land, it wasn’t much but it was enough to qualify as a good OP site. When Colin had studied the map he reckoned it was a barrow, a grave mound. He wondered what the occupant would think, if he knew the land was still being fought over, still being invaded by men from the east.
Colin had an eye on the wind, he led the four men with him in a wide arc, staying downwind of the mound and keeping hedgerows between themselves and it. He was relieved to see that gorse bushes studded the mound, offering cover from view for his close target recce when he would decide how they would do the snatch. The wind carries noise and he wanted that advantage for himself.
Once he was satisfied with their own position he quietly slipped out of his webbing fighting order, Kevlar helmet and radio headset. He left his weapon behind, carrying only a cheese wire garrotte and fighting knife. If the British army followed the Yanks example of issuing handguns as back-up weapons in addition to their principle personal weapon, he would have been happier, but it all came down to money. Politicians who had been no closer to a fire fight than a war correspondents footage, decided they knew what was best, what the armed services needed.
Colin could see nothing through either binoculars or night sight to indicate life on the mound before he began his stalk. He picked his route before putting the optic devices away and crawling forward on his belly, using clumps of nettles and depressions for cover with a twig as a feeler, seeking trip wires. The field obviously had held sheep until recently, the grass was close cropped. Tufts of wool hung from protrusions here and there. He found the first booby trap midway to the mound and two more on its sloping side, the first had been a tripflare, and the next two were fragmentation grenades. Pins removed and spring-arms retained by the sides of the tin cans they had been put into, trip wires were attached to the grenades, ready to be pulled from the can by someone less cautious than he. After making all three safe he continued on.
He heard the enemy recce troops before he saw them, heard the sound of nylon against gorse, they had donned the garments as extra protection from the night air. He moved at a few inches at a time, listening between movements until he saw their forms, in a depression normally occupied by sheep as a windbreak. Their weapons were poked through the gorse ahead of them, which was okay if you knew that you were going to be attacked from that direction, otherwise it would just delay there being brought around to face the threat.
The figure on the right used an optical device whilst Colin watched, he could be the officer, or maybe not. They would sort that out when they had control of them.
Colin moved back the way he had come, just as carefully as before.
He briefed the four Guardsmen after replacing his kit and got on the radio.
“Hello Zero Alpha and Nine Nine Bravo, this is Nine Nine Alpha, radio check over?”
“Zero Alpha, okay over.”
“Nine Nine Bravo, okay over.”
Both the battalion CP and Oz acknowledged they were receiving his signals.
“Nine Nine Alpha, Snapdragon, over.”
“Zero Alpha, Snapdragon, out.”
“Nine Nine Bravo, Snapdragon, out.”
The target had been found and the snatch would follow, the CP would call up the mortar platoon to standby in case required. Oz would now be preparing to put a lot of fire down on another OP, to distract the targets and prevent the other OP from assisting the targets if word got out they were under attack.
Colin was more than relieved that they had not been detected on radar, if they had then their OP would have been more on their toes than they were.
In single file the five British soldiers made their way to the mound, out of sight of the OP, as they did not need to see it, they would follow Colin.
“Oz?” he whispered into his mouthpiece. Two clicks answered him.
“Standby.” Another two clicks and he knew Oz would be watching the moon as he was.
A nice fat cloud approached the crescent and masked it. Colin breathed into the mouthpiece.
“Go, go, go.”
The response was immediate, 800m away tracers lashed out, converging on the corner of a copse, accompanied by the ploop of M203 grenade launchers and their subsequent detonations. In the quiet of the night the booms of the grenades and roar of the automatic weapons carried, drawing the attention of the enemy soldiers and masking the pounding thud of boots that approached them. The method of subduing them was crude but effective, if something heavy lands on the back of a prone person; it drives the air from their lungs.