SAS: Sierra Leone – Deliver A Blow: The True Story of Operation Barras by Pacino Andy

Author:Pacino, Andy [Pacino, Andy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: No Ordinary Family
Published: 2017-05-28T00:00:00+00:00

Nine: Go

Cometh the hour, cometh the muddle.

Armed with a freshly made brew, I made my way to the RV to get into stick order and board the Chinook as per orders. The light wasn’t the brightest to go by but I could kind of see where I was going through the shadows and a couple of the guys stumbled and bumped into each other.

‘Watch where you’re going, you cunt!’ I heard.

I had to laugh. As we neared the RV, the whole of A Company 1 Para was there, lined up in immaculate and perfectly neat rows. The Paras are massively proud of their appearance. Their helmets are always scrimmed-up (netted and with foliage) they had little bits of tape stuck around the edges of them to make them tidy, and here they were, looking the epitome of the model soldier. Everything about their appearance was perfect – their smocks, their shooters. They were all cammed-up (camouflaged) and they knew exactly what they were doing. They were an immense squad, which was in no small part down to their commander. Their Sergeant Major did an absolutely five-star job on them, and let’s not forget he was working with a relatively young company: the average age couldn’t have been more than 19, if that. When I think about it: Christ, how lucky were they? They’d come straight out of depot and some of them didn’t even have their wings yet (or at least that was the rumour). Imagine it: a week ago they were fresh out of training and now they were making their way into Sierra bleeding Leone to provide back-up for the SAS. They were gagging for it. As far as a life in the armed forces was concerned, it didn’t come much better than that.

If I am honest with you, the Paras put us lot to shame. While they were the picture of perfection, Her Majesty’s most elite forces were running around like we belonged in a circus. It was comedy. I could see that some of our lads were lost.

‘Where’s the rest of my frigging patrol?’ a random Cockney accent bawled out.

‘Where do you want us?’ came from someone else.

‘Anyone know what the fuck are we doing?’ came from another direction.

It was carnival time. Everybody was pointing their mini Maglites in each other’s faces and it was utter mayhem. I wish I could rewind and catch a look on some of the Paras’ faces. In hindsight, I realise that we must have looked like a complete bunch of amateurs and it would have been hilarious to watch from a neutral’s point of view.

I finally found the rest of my troop and we formed some kind of orderly line, even though I couldn’t be sure which helicopter, left or right, I was supposed to be getting on. Jimmy Fields, the squadron Sergeant Major (SSM) was doing his best to get a grip on things and it was very funny.

‘Matty, get the fuck into order, you cunt. You’re on number one, not number two.

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