“Ah… nu nu!” he shouted at the distant horizon. ‘‘Tits!’’ was about the strongest verbal expression of dejection he had left in him.
The first twenty vehicles of the US 5th Armoured Division had already been loaded aboard ships when the order came to take them all off and entrain them again, this time for San Diego and San Francisco.
The first troops of the division had begun their air journey to Europe only to be turned around, brought back and transferred to California bound flights.
All, good, military organisations train regularly, be it in practical, hands on, exercises or TEWTs, tactical exercises without troops. The movement planners had actually solved far worse problems in theoretical exercises, moving trains, planes and ships toward a jungle theatre and then redeploying the whole shebang to invade Antarctica. The about-face they had been presented with was a less taxing scenario, but a logistical frightmare all the same.
Small details fall off the edge of the table at the best of times, the planners had X number of vehicles, stores and personnel that had been Europe bound and they re-routed X to Australia. Amid the catch-all ‘X’ was a ‘Q’ that was overlooked.
Captain Hector Sinclair Obediah Wantage-Ferdoux, 1st Royal Tank Regiment, 1RTR, Officer Commanding the unit known locally as Queen Elizabeth’s Combat Team, had been trying without success to contact the British Military Liaison at the Pentagon. The Pentagon had been evacuated and dispersed and no one was prepared to give the liaison’s new number to a foreigner who sounded like the character ‘Higgins’ in Magnum P.I, and calling from a dockside payphone in Texas. His next attempt had been the British Embassy but that too had been evacuated and no-one was sure where it had been evacuated to. The United Kingdom’s Embassy building at 3100 Massachusetts Avenue had been severely damaged in the nuclear explosion and lay downwind of ground zero. There were no senior embassy staff left in the USA, they and the military attaché had been sharing the same Limo, stopped in traffic at the junction of 3rd Street and Pennsylvania Avenue when the bomb had detonated.
Washington DC was a disaster zone and it would be quite some time until the system reset and lines of communication were restored to something approaching normal.
The only facts that Heck was sure of were that his boys and girls, their equipment and stores, were included in the redeployment. Putting down the telephone he thanked the dock manager and returned to the quayside. There was nothing for them to do at present and he was about to make his way back to the troops. The outer office had a television and CNN was devoting the vast majority of its airtime to the conflict. The pictures on screen of the devastation in the heart of America’s capital were horrifying. Heck had stood in silence, along with others. Nuclear war was a horror no sane person should ever inflict upon humanity; the sense of disbelief in the room was more intense even that displayed when the airliners had flown into the twin towers. At the end of the Washington report there followed an item on the events in the Pacific, including very brief details of a sea battle, more news on that as it becomes available, said the anchor person.
On the quayside there was a Soccer international in progress, it was not following FA rules inasmuch as each side had approximately three times more players than the rules allowed. The score stood at an amazing 23–27 and Great Britain had control of the ball. Sgt Rebecca Hemmings, of the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers, flew down the right wing, skilful ball control evident as she beat four US players in a row. Her hair was a wet plastered mop; boots and clothing were squelching water as she ran with the ball at her feet.
In the localised rules of the game being played here on the quayside in Texas, the player responsible for kicking the ball out of play had to fetch it back. If it went in one direction in particular, the player got extremely wet.
The retrieval of the ball from that direction was a cause of much amusement, but for some reason it was also greeted with enthusiasm by the other players and spectators alike, if it had been kicked out of play by a female. Players of both sexes found such feeble excuses as the non-ability to swim, fell on deaf ears. If the offender did not immediately plunge in, they were unceremoniously thrown in after it.
Captain King was stood on the quay watching the game when Heck returned.
“What’s happening?” he asked Heck.
“I couldn’t find out, things are understandably a bit chaotic, I cannot imagine that the situation will improve any time soon, so you may well be stuck with us Tone.”
Daniel nodded.
“Divisional staff are getting a briefing, we may know more then. I just phoned my wife, how about you?”
Heck shook his head.
“No point really, not until I know something. I suppose from your West Coast we could be going about anywhere… opening up a second front in Shanghai or reinforce Taiwan even, though I rather doubt that it is tank country, is it?”
“Mountains and a thin coastal strip, more suited to light infantry and mountain troops.”
“Just as well I joined the for the mystery and adventure, really.”
Daniel offered him a cigarette and they lit up.
“So what made you join the Army, Tone?”
Danny shrugged.
“We lived in Detroit, my Pa, Uncles and older brothers all worked at the plant, making cars, I just wanted something more. Worked hard at school, got to college and joined the Officer Training Corps… on account I was sweet on a girl who was OTC.”
“Is that your wife now?”
“Hell no!” Daniel chuckled, “Turned out I was the wrong gender… if you get my drift?” He looked at Heck.
“How about you?”
“Sorry old man, I don’t much fancy you either… no offence of course?” He paused to watch as a penalty was taken, he didn’t think that the shooter had much hope of getting it past the wall made up of two dozen opposing players.
“It’s a family thing, we all join the regiment, for a few years at least… with the exception of my cousin and great uncle of course.”
“Why of course?” Daniel asked.
“Cousin Armitage is as queer as a coot… but then, he was at Eton, so it’s only to be expected. Great Uncle George, now he didn’t join the regiment on account of being as mad as a box of frogs… ran around naked with his pubic hair on fire rather a lot.”
Daniel was smiling.
“I thought all you guys went to Eton?”
Heck was horrified.
“Lord no… buggered senseless the moment you step through the door, by all accounts. I went to Harrow and then to Cambridge.”
A Humvee arrived, stopping beside the dock office and members of the senior divisional staff appeared from the vehicle.
“Well,” said Daniel.
“We may not find out where we are headed but it’s time to get the show on the road.”