Читать книгу Stan Mitty - Kevin Colbran - Страница 1

The new intake of infantry joined the induction company having just completed basic training were doing what Infantry does best, standing in a line waiting for the next order. Among the line-up were several veterans having served elsewhere. These were nominally given corporal status to assist in the establishment of the company.

Major Brian Roberts had seconded Stan Mitty to the office of the commander. Gaining the enviable job of the company runner, so when he turned up on the parade ground with a stack of paperwork, it was no surprise. What was surprising was that he was now wearing the rank of Warrant Officer second class, jumping over the top of the two ex-recruit course staff serjeants tasked with the carry-on training for assimilation of the troops. The quicker eyed men voiced their surprise, so Stan ordered, “Silence in the ranks.” Which received a harsh look from the two staff serjeants as the last time they had seen him he had been a newly promoted serjeant, and it was contra protocol for anyone to address a troop under the control of another NCO.

The closer Staff Serjeant growled, “Something you need to say to me, Serjeant?”

“Sorry Staff, I have several urgent messages to deliver from Colonel Roberts,” Stan apologised.

“Hell, what’s that beetle doing on your arm and shouldn’t that be Major Roberts?” William asked.

“Pretty isn't it, it is not the first time. Now if you are ready I can deliver some good news,” Stan said with a grin. “Roberts has just been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and has been tasked with raising a battalion.”

“That’s pretty sudden all right, Sir.” The acknowledgement delivered through gritted teeth.

“Yep lots of changes, first the good news, Corporals Jones, Samuels and Wentworth are now to be Serjeants, who will take charge of the three platoons then march them to the barracks to be ready for a parade this afternoon,” Stan advised, “If I may do the honours?”

“Go for it, sir,” Staff William conceded.

“Thank you Staff; Serjeants Jones, Samuels and Wentworth sort your men into three platoons, march them back to the barracks and get them in 'cams' for a parade in one hour. Carry on.” This drill completed; the troops marched off.

“Now for the fun bit, your warrants will be presented at this parade, Congratulations Bill, Tony,” Stan grinned as he shook their hands. “The downside is that the colonel needs three temporary platoon commanders until the rest of the brass turns up, so guess who is that?” That took the smiles off their faces. So Stan added, “Only for a month when the rest of battalion arrives; so will we toss coins to see who gets which platoon?”

William said, “I get on well with Jones.”

Tony said, “Wentworth is a sensible man.”

“Excellent since Samuels has been my serjeant before; so that’s perfect,” Stan smiled, “When the officers arrive and assume command, we will then revert to CSMs of the three companies.”

“You seem to know a lot for a runner?” Tony commented.

“Yep, Roberts found out my past misdeeds about the same time as his promotion and the orders for the formation of the Battalion; or just payback for my old sins.”

“I had thought that your name was familiar, any relation to Colonel Mitty lately of Africa?” Bill asked. “And Warrant Officer Robert Samuels wouldn’t be our boy wonder of the same name?”

“Perhaps, hard to live that down; though that one wore a moustache,” Stan laughed.

“So why did you sign up as a private for Pete’s sake?” Tony asked incredulously, “If you had claimed a commission it would have set you up as a Captain at least.”

“What and miss all the fun I had at recruit school?” Stan laughed.

“You and Samuels were our biggest irritation; always two steps ahead and mentoring those twerps that usually gave us a reason for yelling,” Bill admitted then conceded, 'Besides making us the top company of the intake.”

“I held a short-term commission in this army but chose not to remind them as I had been seconded to Africa and then transferred to the Rhodesian Army to sort their problems. This choice put me on the nose with our brass, so I only claimed the non-com part of my career. After getting my warrant, I went through Scheyville coming out as a second lieutenant pilot then was booted upstairs after I annoyed so many OCs. I was given all the shit jobs to get rid of me but since Lucky is my middle name; I somehow come up smelling of roses.”

“If what is in the wind is for real, luck will be in great need. So we have a celebrity with us though I guess you are not ready to come out the cupboard just yet,” Bill said.

“Hardly, I would appreciate keeping it on the QT for now. Though sooner or later it will hit the fan and then we will see what happens,” Stan conceded, “For now let’s get this parade on the road. Then we can have the fun of all that wonderful paperwork to convert this training company to a battalion.”

“I suppose there is a manual for that, WO school Canungra has been a while for me, so I am a bit rusty. Though knowing the powers that be, whatever we do will be redone by the new RSM,” Tony said.

“Get it right, and you will have the glory. If we stuff up, yours truly will get the blame. So you’re laughing either way,” Stan grinned, “I had to rebuild my battalion under fire when battalion HQ was taken out by a surprise attack. My company rescued the survivors, I then ran the Fire base as well until the dust settled. For my sins, their army promoted me to acting Lt Colonel, and I retained command until the UN handed the country to the rebels while I was away at Staff College in South Africa.”

While this conversation was going on, they paced out and marked the parade ground as previously this had been set up as two large formations and now had to be remarked for three platoons. Lt Col Roberts only required an informal parade to announce the promotions and announce the changes to the unit. At the appointed hour Stan having briefed the new serjeants, lined everyone up in their places; assuming the role of CSM ordered, “Company, Atten-shun.” Then Stan about turned marched three paces saluted and announced, “Company on parade, Sir.”

Colonel Roberts returned the salute, “Carry on Mr Mitty. Company, Stand at ease, Stand easy.” Stan retired to the edge of number 2 Platoon alongside Sergeant Samuels.

“Men we are here to confer several promotions and to brief you on the immediate future; first the promotions; Staff Sergeant Addams,” Bill marched out saluted and was handed his Warrant, “Congratulations Warrant Officer Second Class William Addams, take charge of your platoon.” And so the process carried on until all the senior NCOs had received their promotions and retired to the new duties.

“Men, over the coming weeks, reinforcements will bolster this company until re-established as a Battalion, at which time as part of an ongoing exercise will be redeployed to the North. The aim of this exercise is to simulate a clandestine deployment. Further briefings as required and any communication is to be done solely through company channels,” Col. Roberts concluded with; “Company Attention. Take charge of your platoons and dismiss.” Roberts returned the salutes and marched off.

The three WO2s turned control over to the new serjeants who in turn dismissed the troops. Stan announced to the SNCOs, “Give them an hour to work on their kit, in the meantime let’s find a comfortable spot, and I will brief you on the next part of the programme.”

When the new platoon commanders had settled down, Stan informed them, “First write a list of junior NCOs and have them march as sections for a while, interspersed with platoon and company drill over the next few weeks; that should get them on familiar terms with their counterparts.”

“What is the big picture?” Rob asked.

“Our neighbour and I don’t mean Tassie, has been eyeing off our ‘empty north’ so we have been selected to maneuver our troops somewhat clandestinely towards that area as part of routine exercises; by adding an extra platoon to publicised companies training in the area, our platoon is then remaining covertly on-station. You may have noticed that all of those present are single and either experienced or more mature than the general run of recruits.”

“Yep, I thought we had a geriatric intake dumped on us,” Tony laughed.

“I have two lists, one my preferences and the other the Colonel gave me the listing of those qualified to hold the rank. I made my list and hadn’t as yet compared the two. When we have all four I wouldn’t be surprised that they are identical,” Stan said, “As far as I know all experienced personnel have counterinsurgency experience; one reason some drifted off to sleep during those lectures.”

“You included perhaps?” Bill asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Damn I thought those glasses with the painted eyes were the go,” Stan responded, ”OK we detail off our best guesses to form sections and meet me back here with the lists and see if there are any surprises. With these in hand, we front the boss and deliver our recommendations.”

It wasn’t long before the boys returned with the lists in hand and settled down to compare. Common to each was the same dozen names and when compared to the original list this also matched. “It seems we are surfeit with riches. Now it only needs us to ratify the selections with the Colonel as he has his list. There are HQ jobs for the extras. You noticed that there were several qualified for Serjeant with all serving at corporal rank,” Stan stated, “With all in hand we now consult Colonel Roberts. He should give us some more information and the direction we are heading,” Saying that the trio adjourned to the Colonel’s office with the lists.

“Good, the new programme in action I see. Now how are the lists going?” Roberts asked.

“No surprises Sir; it seems whoever made up the list knew what they were doing,” Stan affirmed.

“I modestly thank you for the confirmation,” Roberts replied, “The latest intelligence is that we have about four months to position the troops before any movement is likely to happen from the ‘Orange force'. Best guess is about four weeks before the next wet as we wind down our exercises about then; comment?”

“Concur, in their shoes that would give nearly six months to establish a bridgehead with few chances of observation,” Stan said, with the others nodding in agreement.

“We will be quartered with by 3 Brigade for equipment and personnel administration, quartered with 1 Brigade for the headquarters and otherwise we belong to someone else depending on who is asking on a need to know basis. Tactical signs and number plates will be supplied and varied as required.”

“This is going to be fun hiding in the mud for months at a time; on the off chance that ‘Orange’ wants to do something.”

“We have fishing boats in increasing numbers in our waters over the last few years. The few caught claim that they were lost when interrogated,” Col. Roberts explained, “We lock them up for six months or so and burn their boat. We don’t see these individuals again; just becoming a bit too often to be a coincidence.”

“I suppose you have heard of the wall maps in their barracks, Irian Selatan in their national colours looks very familiar according to visiting techs instructing them in aircraft maintenance,” Roberts supplied, “Malaysia had several visits which we helped discourage.”

“To paraphrase, If anyone asks; we are Sgt Schultz ‘we know nothings’. If we need something, it will arrive ASAP,” Stan stated.

“Yes right in one,” Roberts confirmed, “I will keep you informed as soon as I learn something.”

The briefing having ended with the details for the next day and they adjourned to the sergeant's mess, where they had a quiet celebration for the promotions. While seven from one unit on the same day was remarkable, they kept it to a low-profile; not hard as all had done it before. Expecting a busy morning, it was off to bed for a good night’s sleep. As Stan and Bob had moved their kit to the senior NCO accommodation, they met in the bathroom first thing before breakfast. “G’day Bob sleep tight?” Stan asked, “The first job of the day after the parade; where I hand out the stripes to our corporals, is to conduct interviews with the troops.”

“Run them through a section at a time and just our platoon?” Bob grunted.

“Sounds like the go,” Stan confirmed, “Give them a platoon level drill, then split them into their respective section and have the corporals give a couple of basic lessons. With an hour per section, I expect that I can knock the interviews over before lunch.”

“OK boss, see you later,” Bob confirmed.

Later when the first interviewee arrived at Stan’s office; Corporal Brian Grant newly promoted. “Brian, Come in and sit down, relax this is just to let you know where I intend to do with this unit,” Stan said, “I expect that your third stripe will arrive before too long. For now; who is your first choice for two i.c.?”

“Private Thomas, then Wallace then Travis, though it’s hair-splitting for any of them,” Brian replied, “As I am used to an engineer section it didn’t occur to me that I had too many.”

“Right, Thomas for two i.c.; Wallace and probably Travis may be assigned to headquarters,” Stan confirmed, “I have seen your previous record, and like yourself, I am out of specialisation. This posting is no accident, and holds true for most of the platoon.”

“Understood, I had a short brief before I signed up; so I am all ears,” Brian replied.

'The unit will be doing a deployment exercise to test the feasibility of moving a large force into position without stirring up too much fuss,' Stan began the brief, '"Orange force" is expected to land a large group with intent to establish a bridgehead. Our battalion is to detect, engage and disrupt this incursion in concert with other units as required. Intelligence indicates that we have a window of 4 months to reposition our troops, to this end we attach each platoon to an existing company assigned to regular exercises, the platoon then remains behind, reforming each company as necessary.'

“I gather the scenario is that we will be matched manpower-wise and then depend on quick deployment to rebalance the strategic advantage,” Brian suggested.

“Yes, Flexibility will be required, as the likely window approaches we will have practised with these units acting as ‘Orange’ to exercise the regular units,” Stan finished the interview.

The following interviews went quickly until Private Travis came in on the last of the first section.

“Good morning Private. Care to tell me how you managed to get through the ‘short arm inspection’?” Stan asked.

A look of consternation came over Travis’ face, “What do you mean?”

“In the last hour, I was able to read the special dossier on yourself and have finally realised when I had seen you. While I was in Senoia, I had a visit from Mossad in the person of two Israeli lieutenants, Saul and Wendy Isaacs,” Stan informed, “You are now Wendell Travis?”

“And you were Lt Colonel Stan Mitty?” Travis asked then offered, “Apparently the Doc left her glasses at home that day.”

“If we had the same one, she had cold hands when checking for hernias,” Stan commented wryly.

“An arrangement for a separate examination and I have a marvellous prosthetic for other times,” Wendy grinned, “I am Aussie born. After Saul had died during an undercover operation, I returned here and was approached by Army intelligence for this exercise.”

“Welcome to the unit, you certainly had Bob and me scratching our heads trying to remember where we had seen you before,” Stan said, “Sorry to hear about Saul he was a good man.”

“Thanks, he was the best; I made sure that several families missed their men before I returned to Tel Aviv,” Wendy replied with a slight hint of satisfaction.

“Now what to do with you, the platoon commander requires a radio op; how does that sound?” Stan asked.

“Sounds good always wanted to walk around with an arrow pointing to a target on my back,” She answered with a straight face.

“As a cover for my intelligence officer; the latest gear we have is unobtrusive and only has a small antenna,” Stan stated, “Starts with two stripes and comes with your quarters near Company HQ.”

“It’s a start, so what is the go, I have had a short brief,” Travis accepted.

“’Orange forces’ are 90% likely to position a bridgehead force in the north within the next six months,” Stan began the brief, “They can pick and choose their arrival point whereas we have to cover about a thousand kilometres. Norforce has recce units patrolling but has a high vulnerability if ambushed. If they find traces, Norforce will withdraw, and we can inspect with the force required.”

“Should relieve the boredom, are we going to do much more drill?” She asked, “We don’t have too many cakky footers, and most are up to speed with weapons and equipment.”

“As soon as the rest of my company arrives; a couple of familiarising parades should satisfy the Brass," Stan grimaced. "Then we start positioning North at the beginning of the Dry, I afraid being a peacetime squaddie is why I am often in strife. That goes for the rest of the present company.”

'Noticed that, of course just setting up my new job will get me out of that, won’t it?' Wendy asked rhetorically.

'Once I point you at the job, it is your oyster subject to the Colonel and me,' Stan promised.

“Done, when do I start?” Wendy stood shook hands and grinned.

“When you walk out the door, trundle over to HQ; announce who you are and say Stan sent you. The quartermaster has everything you need in a box marked Corporal Travis,” Stan directed.

“Sure aren’t you?” Wendy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“When I picked myself up after reading your ‘authorised eyes only’ dossier I trotted over and wrote your name myself,” Stan laughed.

After Travis had marched out, Sergeant Samuels walked in, and Stan asked, “Have you worked out who Travis is?”

Bob shook his head.

“Remember Senoia?” Stan's next question.

Bob nodded.

“Those two Israeli lieutenants, Travis was one,” Stan said.

Bob still looked blank.

“Wendell aka Wendy.” Stan finished the questions.

“What? Hell, we have been in the showers together. Don’t you think I would notice a little detail like that?” Bob said incredulously.

“Marvellous little attachment, eh? Fooled me too, not that I take too much notice of other blokes,” Stan said, “Now I know why ‘he’ offered free Brazilians with a blunt knife if anyone got too friendly. The blokes involved were transferred when they complained. Not that I wouldn’t have sent them packing myself.”

“Yep, so what do you have ‘him’ doing?” Bob asked shaking his head still unconvinced.

“Radio operator for now and later intelligence officer,” Stan said, “The boss hinted that I would find that combo amongst my men. You could have knocked me over with a feather; it seems we have a Machiavellian running the show. This information goes no further.”

“No drama there, I remember the knife work we did, stretched me more than you do,” Bob marvelled.

Stan snorted, “Hey I take it easy on an old fellow, I‘ll stretch you twice around the block next time.”

“Ha, in your dreams; start the next group?” Bob said.

“Yep, wheel them in should be no surprises for the rest,” Stan directed, “By their records; a motley bunch of talent that is covering the whole army for trades.”

As predicted the rest of the interviews concluded with no dramas and Stan now had a good idea of his platoon and hoped there would be no more surprises when the rest of the battalion arrived.

Still, by the end of the month, the remainder trickled in, to bring the company up to strength. Five officers and two serjeants had arrived, so Stan was able to assume the CSM position with a sigh of relief; as he had been dreading a note arriving congratulating him on a promotion with all the responsibility and drama that entailed. The new additions were experienced Infantry types with the usual run of training associated with that.

HQ contingent included an RSM, 2 IC and all the other battalion personnel. Some noses were out of joint when a lowly CSM had the ear of the Colonel.

“CSM, come into my office,” Captain Reynolds ordered.

Stan did as he was ordered thinking ‘what now?’

“I have just been reviewing your file; it seems your total experience as a CSM is five weeks. And most of that as an acting platoon commander,” Stan nodded, and Reynolds continued, “You may have convinced the board that you knew what you were doing at Canungra, before assuming your position of WO Artificer aircraft with your squadron. After which, you completed a pilot’s course and subsequently had a short-term commission.”

“Yes sir,” Stan confirmed.

“I left a good CSM behind with five years’ experience; one thing he never did was advise all and sundry including the battalion commander. When I want advice from you, I will ask for it, mister. For your information, your job is to listen, then pass on proper orders to your SNCOs. You also provide training and guidance to just those; otherwise, carry out my orders,” Reynolds stated loudly. And then asked, “Was it necessary to hospitalise Sergeant Taylor?”

“We were demonstrating unarmed combat, he became over-enthusiastic with the demonstration, and the only move was to dump him. This result would happen on the field if he applied that technique to a hostile opponent,” Stan explained.

“He is the senior instructor in unarmed combat for the regiment so why would he make that mistake?” Reynolds snapped.

“Wouldn't tell me, sir,” Stan said, “Perhaps he was just testing me?”

“Humph, well if you step over the line again, I will see you returned to rank and employment where you can learn at someone else’s expense,” Reynolds stated, “Dismiss.”

“Sir,” Stan did a parade about turn and marched out rattling the floorboards.

‘My,’ Stan thought as he returned to his desk, ‘someone’s knickers are in a knot.’

The next day a red-faced Reynolds directed Stan to follow him to a quiet spot.

Seething Reynolds said, “I have just had a bollocking from Col Roberts, as did the other commanders. It seems that you are the army’s golden-haired boy and that there is a quartermaster’s desk in Hobart with the name ‘Mud’ on it which will be my new address if I stuff up.”

“I will work hard to ensure that doesn’t happen as my next job would be your tea boy,” Stan said stifling a grin.

“You wouldn’t be related to Colonel Mitty, by any chance?” Reynolds asked suspiciously.

“My father,” Stan admitted.

Probing a bit more, “No, Rhodesia couple of years back.”

“That was me,” Stan conceded.

“OK,” Reynolds digested this, “Samuels related to General Samuels?”

“His Father, Robert Samuels was Staff Sergeant Royal Engineer I.E.D. expert before joining me in Rhodesia.”

“This Corporal Travis; not going to come out of the cupboard and go all ‘girlie’ on me?” Reynolds asked.

“Not likely, ex-Israeli army captain; expert comms and Intelligence,” Stan said.

“Would it be too much to guess that the extra crew including myself are just there for camouflage?” Reynolds asked.

“I was starting to think that myself otherwise it would look very smelly for a re-entry to go straight to captain.” Stan conceded, “Set all types of bells ringing.”

“Hmm, so this exercise may be rather more full-on than rumoured?” Reynolds asked.

“80% come July, all the nines within two years unless there is a regime change,” Stan said.

“Right, Roberts said to listen to you, so I would appreciate that you were subtle about it,” Reynolds said.

“Right you are sir; I will keep you briefed before it is official so that you know as much as I do,” Stan said.

“These two conversations didn’t happen, CSM,” Reynolds affirmed, “Carry on.”

“Sir,” Stan saluted and returned to the task at hand.