Better late than at all???????????

“Don’t you shipwreck me you skate bastards” shouted the RSM.”Whatever you fucking did I am going to find out , and when I do you are totally fucked, fucked I tell you, totally fucked….”

“Sergeant major” interrupted Bill,” your profound lack of suitable vocabulary astounds me. As a very senior NCO I would expect a greater understanding of the English Language but as you are a Royal Marine I suppose we will have to forgive you. So Colonel sir, what appears to be the problem and can we help in any way?”.

 “Well chaps, I am not sure of all the facts but am pretty sure that you two are responsible for the debacle of an exercise, I have just witnessed  a scene from Dante’s inferno on Dartmoor. My career is in tatters and you two have came out of it looking like heroes. As the RSM said I will get you; and Mason tell that lump of Irish shite not to sleep on my parade square.

“Hank, wake up”, said Bill giving a sly kick.

“ wazzat? Fuck, look at my hand, wow… where am I?”

“shut the fuck up fella, the boss is here.”  he leaned down and in what he thought was a whisper, “seems like we’re in the shit.”

“There is no seems about it Mason, outside my office, now”  the RSM then turned to the CO, “with your permission sir I’ll deal with these two.”

The CO looked at Hank, prostrate on his parade ground.  His career was over,  BBC radio 2 was already reporting the fiasco and he knew that Whitehall would be on the phone come nine o’clock.  He didn’t have the stomach to deal with these two.

“Yes carry on sergeant major”

Outside the RSM’s office Bill and Hank tried to get their stories straight.

“So we made the still for charity then?” said Hank, “Is that what we’re going with?”.

“What still?” asked Bill.

“Fella we made a still and commandeered a whole pile of Navy spuds. You kept getting in the shit so that they got peeled and I volunteered for kitchen duties.”

“Gen mate?”

“Yeah, proper pucker gen, queens eyebrows.”

“Fuck, how much did we make?”

“Not too sure but I have lost two weeks of my life and we need to account for them sharpish!”.

“Right, no worries, we had nothing to do with the still OK. Whilst on galley duty we were asked to make the tea urns up and so used what we thought was sterile water. Unbeknownst to us the sterile water was moonshine and everyone got pissed, then we just suss out what actually happened and blame all the others. They cant pin a thing on us or else we would be over the wall already.”

“That’s a fair one fella, plead ignorance, if Marines know anything its ignorance.”

The RSM walked past them and into his office, the two could heat him sit down and let out a groan.  Not an every day groan.  It was the expulsion of air they recognised.  They had had many a hangover and made similar sounds.  It could only mean one thing.  The RSM was pissed.  And as he was on the exercise with them, and even though they had alcohol induced amnesia, it didn’t take a Sherlock to realise that he must have been drinking the moonshine as well. Things were looking up.

“Get in here, now”

Hank was confident, too confident.

“Alright Royal, wind your neck in, we’re coming”

The RSM had a bulging temple as he said this.  “Kelly you have no idea the shit you are in.”

“And you have no idea how much cack your wading through either shipwreck, unless you want to do a breath test?  Unless of course you have another reason for being pissed in the middle of nowhere?  Hey, fuckwit?  Not looking to smart now are we?.”

The RSM looked exasperated.  It was his mistake.  The guys had no clue as to what had gone on, Hank just took a wild guess, it paid off.  Bill just put the final nail in the coffin.

“Look, podgers, it can go either two ways,  the police think we’re great, being survival experts and the like.  No-one has  a clue about the still,  except us.  In fact the only guy who is completely in the dark is the CO.  And if you can get that green beret ferret of a head from up his arse then the lot of us can come clean from all this.  That is unless you want the fleet to know about your tutu.”

In 27 years of fighting service, the RSM surrendered for the first time.

God he felt abused, no worse, a couple of Navy piss heads had him over a barrel and it felt wrong, wrong on each and every level. Two years to pension and he owed the colonel fuck all. No way was he going to let his unblemished record be ruined by this.

“Right lads, it’s a fair one, you fucking have me, but we all need a story so what’s it to be?”

“Shippers” said Bill “its dead simple. None of us knew a thing. We were in your tent getting some extra field craft training when we heard an explosion. Obviously we rushed outside and rendered assistance where it was needed. Endex”

“That wont wash you twat. How do I account for the Tutu? Why did you 2 run 10miles to a pub? Why did the tents burn down? Where the fucking hell are my Marines? And last but not least where the hell are the vehicles gone? We need better than that.”

“Chill Royal” said Hank. “It was all part of the exercise, for the sake of realism you made a real explosion and ensured that chaos ensued. Thus able to fully assess the temperament of those under your command you sent us to get help, and the rest as they say is history.”

“it’s six o’clock, this is the BBC News desk.  Our main headline for today is a Royal Navy Exercise, involving elements of the Royal Marines and the Royal Navy Medical Support Service ended in disaster in the early hours of this morning when an explosion occurred destroying the camp.  At first terrorist activity was thought to be the cause but now it has evolved that poor quality generators have been the cause.  Over now to our military correspondent in Devon…”

“Thanks Hugh, it seemed to be a normal run of the mill exercise this morning until an explosion that could be heard up to ten miles away caused havoc in this military camp.  The camp comprised of nurses and royal marines was caught off guard and left without any hope, in the middle of nowhere,  that is except for two brave Naval nurses, who despite their injuries managed to crawl ten miles to the nearest settlement, a pub, to summon help.  I’m joined by the landlord, Arthur Pew.  Mr Pew what first alerted you to the brave sailors plea for help?”

“well I first heard what I thought was singing , then the sound of breaking glass…….”

The television was turned off.  The prime minister sighed and looked to his PR advisor.

“So what really happened?”

“Well that is difficult, depends on what is best to believe.  If you want the out and out truth it seems two sailors, the guys who were breaking in to the pub, set up a still which got the entire camp drunk then by some accident blew it up.  That is more less what really happened.  However there is a more politically better answer.”

“what is that?”

“Well the CO, who incidentally is two months from retiring, failed to get the generators checked, they consequently blew up the camp.  These two sailors then crawled ten miles to get help.  I have a police inspector and the RSM who will confirm this version.”

“So what your saying is I can have a version of bootleg pissheads destroying a medical military facility, or two heroes, crawling for the rescue of a camp…. They will have to meet the queen, get some kind of award. Does the Victoria cross cover this?”

“No but we’ll come up with something,  I think one of them is Irish so we’ll get a quote for the good Friday agreement as well.  Can’t hurt can it.”

“So Chief Kelly, how do you feel now that your heroism has been recognised and awarded.?”

“Well as I said to the queen, I really have no clear recollection of the incident. I am told that I was a hero but together with PO Mason we just done what had to be done. You know I am just a simple Irish fella trying to do what is best and the fact that this has been recognised gives me an immense sense of pride, not just for me but for the service and the silent Irishmen who serve in the Royal Navy asking for no recognition but the fact that they do a decent days work.”

Three gold buttons gleaming on his sleeve Hank wallowed in his celebrity but things were not all rosey in the garden. Inside there was a gap, a huge gaping hole, something was missing and had been for some time. What a fool he had been, the answer was simple and staring him in the face; Guinness, that’s what he needed and what with all the press interviews and opening of supermarkets and the like he just hadn’t had time to indulge recently but now was the time to change all that. He got straight on the phone to Bill, sure that he was feeling the same.

“You all right mate, just wondering if you fancied a few pints down the Stoke?”

“Cant at the minute fella, got a couple of jobs on and Rosey is expecting me home after.”

“Ah, right, what’s the job then?”

“Well I am judging a jam competition at the WRVS at the minute and then I have a booking with the league of prohibitionist pioneers to discuss the benefits of life without alcohol.”

“What?  you? But you’re a piss head , you love a beer and spend most of your free time either on the floor or at the bar. How can you in all honesty stand in front of those good Christian fellows and extol the virtues of abstinence with a straight face? Come on, we’ll have a few after and have a laugh at the wankers at the same time.”

“Just stop there” screamed Bill. “You are not going to ruin this for me. Finally I have respect from people in the street and a purpose in life. My misses is in love with me and I’m earning enough money with these extra jobs to live a comfortable life and neither you nor anyone else will take that away from me. Look fella, I don’t want to fall out with you but I am on to a good thing and think that we should do our own things for a while. I am sure that you understand. Now I have to go, I’ll give you bell sometime.” With that he hung up.

Needless to say Hank was stunned. How could his mate speak to him like that. Who the fuck did he think he was. All he did was ask him out for a bloody drink and in return he was shunned , chastised, blanked and kicked into touch. Well Bill probably needed his space. It cant have been easy recently what with the extension and all that. He’d just head down the pub himself and have few pints and with any luck his hero status would ensure that at least a few of them were gratis.

Yep

The  smoke was blackening the sky and the screams and explosions, combined with the sirens from all three of the emergency services could have been a scene from Dante.  The CO of Med sqn saw all this from his passenger seat in his landrover.  With a wince he noticed  the camera crews from the media were getting it all.

He was used to this, he was a Colonel in the Royal Marines and had a service history of pretty much every conflict over the past thirty years.  He had seen how war can turn humanity into savages and how it can destroy communities and tear families apart.  However this wasn’t a war zone, this was Dartmoor.  This was supposed to be a medical exercise for the Navy nurses from Plymouth. 

He stood on top of his landrover.  Years of being a military commander would enable him to sort this out.  Time to put his experience to practice

“Sergeant Major!”  He bellowed to the crowd, hoping that someone would respond.  What he didn’t expect to see was an overweight man in a tutu and a straw hat staggering over to him.

“Sah”  said the man, trying to remain vertical.

“Get yourself sorted.  You are a disgrace.  Get an officer to liase with the media and the corporals to muster the troops.  I want to know what’s happened here.”  He walked away, to higher ground, to survey the scene.

The hospital complex appeared undamaged.  The accommodation tents burnt to the ground, together with three trucks, what looked like the galley and the crater on the perimeter he assumed to be the generator and fuel dump.

It could be terrorists.  But what fighting groups would dress the sergeant major in a tutu.  No not terrorists.  More than likely alcohol.  Mix highly trained soldiers with boredom and alcohol and you get carnage, that was what his commanding officer said to him when he was a young 2^nd lieutenant.  He began to wish it was terrorists.  At least then he wouldn’t be blamed.

It would soon be sunrise, and the light would make it easier to understand the ground and may provide a clue as to what had happened.  He walked down the hill as he heard shouts from the RSM getting things in order.

As he approached the troops the RSM brought them to attention.  Turned on his heel, staggered slightly and marched towards him saluting smartly.  “Troops ready Sah”.

The CO sniffed the air,  an alcoholic haze seemed to surround the RSM.  “All accounted for?”

“Er no Sah.  Hank and Bill, I Mean PO Kelly and LNN Bill, I mean Mason appear to be missing sir”

“Right,  has anyone been able to check the accommodation area for bodies.  Any casualties?”

“None sah.  It’s a miracle no one was affected.”

Hmm, a miracle he thought.  Yes it was lucky that  no one was hurt.  But two missing men.  Kelly and Mason, those names stuck a chord in his mind.  Where had he heard those names before?

“Captain Smyth.”  He called.  Capt Smyth was Med sqn Adjutant.  The man who was supposed to be responsible for the actual running of the camp.  Captain Smyth approached.  Smelling slightly of alcohol he saluted the CO.  The CO looked at him.  Something was amiss. 

“Adjutant get me the nominal of the nurses that was sent  from Plymouth please.  I want to see the report sent by the matron on the two missing nurses.”

“Er actually sir all the paperwork was destroyed in the fire sir.”

“Well go to my car and get my copy from my brief case.  Oh and Captain Smyth”

“Sir?”

“Wipe that make up from your face, the press are here”

Ten minutes later the sun rose as the CO looked over the list of names sent by CDR Garlick, the hospital matron from Plymouth.  For some reason Kelly and Mason had their names written in bold with an asterix.  He glanced down to the foot note.  It read “best to keep these men apart”

Of Course, he remembered questioning this when he first saw the nominal.  He phoned CDR Garlick especially to find out what she had meant.

“Well,” she had said “They are very good nurses, and if I was kind I would say they are very good for morale.”

“Ah, and if you were not kind, what would be your unofficial opinion be Julie?”

“Well simon the two of them are a couple of loose cannons.  Very good at what they do but get bored very easily and can always have some plan or other to help relieve the boredom.  Kelly has a knack of finding alcohol, he could get drunk at a mormon wedding, and Bill would probably get the mother of the bride in bed.  Separately they are a bit raucous, together they are a disaster.  But they do make a run ashore a night to remember.  Just keep them dry and you should have no problems”

He looked around the remenants of the camp.  The two were missing and the adjutant and RSM were dressed as women and smelt of alcohol.  In the middle of the moor they were drunk.  Everyone had been searched prior to the exercise and he had overseen the supply to the camp over the past two weeks to ensure that no booze got into the camp.  He looked over the supply list again to make sure.

Water, ten man ration packs, ammunition, 40 kg of potato, bread, fruit, 40 kg of potato, yeast, diesel, extra sleeping bags, 40 kg of potato.

Nothing too out of the ordinary. But then why so much potato.  He looked at the request slips for the potato.  Nothing to out of the ordinary.  He looked at the signature.

“Sargeant Major?”

“SAH”

“Do we have a Cpl Mouse here?”

“No Sah”

“A corporal Mickey Mouse?”

“No Sah”  Fuck.  Thought the CO. It was beginning to make sense now.

“Excuse me are you in charge here?”  The CO turned to see a police officer , an inspector no less.

“Yes I am.  Colonel Simon Kennedy.”

“Inspector holmes.  Are you missing two men by any chance?”

“Ah Yes, two nurses.  Mason and Kelly.  Why?”

“well we have them, they’re ten miles away, outside a pub,  a bit worse for wear.  Lucky really they found the pub in the middle of nowhere.  Otherwise they could be out there on some hill, we might never have found them.  Good job they have that training.”

“what training”

“Well according to my constable they have minor burns and no eyebrows.  Speaking incoherently, must be due to shock.  But to think they can walk ten miles and with no maps find a pub, the only settlement for miles around, in their condition.  I’m amazed.  What would like me to do with them?  Bring them here?”

The CO looked over to the Press. “Er no, would you take them back to the barracks please.  I’ll speak to them when I’ve finished here.”

Outside the “The Hangmans Knot Inn” the two fellas were at a total loss. Memories were drifting back in dribs and drabs. Bill remembered potatoes and looking for punishment. He recalled wanting to peel spuds and that none of them were eaten. Hank on the other hand remembered very little. He remembered a dry week. Also there was the huge pile of spuds and  people wondering why a PO was keen to peel them. The morning was cold and there were police present but neither could recall doing anything wrong. They were definitely pissed and feeling absolutely shite but that was as far as their collective memory stretched. The coppers were offering to take them back to Plymouth and that was as good as it could get. So quite happily they crawled into the back of the Panda and got chaufferred home.

Or so they thought.  They awoke to the sound of the car pulling up outside brigade HQ.

“Right fellas, this is where we drop you off.  By the way, the lads have been talking and we’re so impressed by you two.  Don’t know how you did it,  I mean to escape that disaster with the skin of your teeth and then find that pub.  Jeez you navy guys are made of stern stuff.”

The policeman in the passenger seat agreed.  “yeah guys good effort, listen we’re doing a charity ball next week, we were gonna have larry spears do the speech, as the guest of honour but would appreciate it if you two would after tonight..”

Bill and Hank looked at each other, neither one of them had a clue what the fuck they were going on about.  As far as they were concerned, having sobered up, they had destroyed a military field hospital with an improvised still, and still pissed had tried to break into a pub in the middle of nowhere.  When the flashing blue lights turned up they simply expected a kicking and a night in the cells, not to be invited as guest speaker at the policmans ball.  Maybe this time they had done something right.  It was at this point, both of them smiling, having reached the same positive conclusion, they saw the RSM and CO approaching the car.  With their new found confidence they stepped out of the panda. 

“hey alright shipwrecks, have we got a dit for you cunts”  said Hank with a wry smile.  The two of them were not smiling for long.