30/12/27 - Time 13:30
As I write this, I am sat in the back of a Viking, as we head towards our first mission, with our newly assembled company. I will briefly fill you in on what has happened since my last entry, as I completed my recovery in preparation for today.
On the twentieth of December, the camp received a message from Torriero, brought to camp by a lone stranger. The message was less important than the other information we gleaned from him later, it was just a simple hand written response to our declaration of war, which Torriero reciprocated declaring war on us. The man was named Adam Lucas, he’d been fighting for Torriero’s army, but discovered his wife had died in their camp, from starvation of all things. One of Torriero’s soldiers had told him, at high risk to himself, unhappy with how the camp was being run. Lucas had confronted an unapologetic Torriero, who had sent him to us with his response to war, fully aware he would no longer fight on his behalf. Lucas was able to help us understand a few things about how Torriero was running his operation, and where we might find success in our fight with him. A large amount of Torriero’s fighters were Leeds locals, and other desperate men he has picked up. They had pledged their allegiance to him in exchange for food and shelter, and did not really have any loyalty towards him. Lucas himself was from the city of Leeds, which had been completely looted by Torriero’s camp, leaving the locals with no food or water. His men had surrounded the city over a period of around two months, allowing no one out. He and his wife had been within this city while it happened, desperation set in soon after, with no food or water anywhere. The city was besieged with crime, murder and in the end cannibalism, with no way for anyone to call for help. After a couple of months living under those circumstances, any still alive were willing to do whatever Torriero wanted, particularly when he fed them, and housed them in what would’ve felt like luxury. Torriero claims his own army is close to seven thousand men strong, however this is an exaggeration, and the real figure is closer to four thousand, which was still two thousand more than we had accounted for. So add to that around two thousand men who might fight, and you have an army. Lucas claimed Torriero was using brain washing techniques and torture on some men, to try and influence their decision making, and had achieved results in some subjects. Finally, he claimed Torriero is planning an all out attack on the camp, that will decide the outcome of the war, win or lose.
There were no reports of skirmishes on the first day of war, it was a day much like any other. Captain Jones walked through the hospital handing out gas masks, as a precaution due to our limited knowledge of what Torriero might have at his disposal. Lauren, who visited me in the afternoon, mentioned the gas masks had been handed out throughout the camp, one per person, to be kept in our hotel rooms. The camps air raid siren, removed from Blackpool Museum’s World War Two exhibition, was given an airing, to give the community a better understanding of what the mechanical siren sounded like. It was an eerie sound, echoing around a silent camp, as everyone stopped what they were doing to listen. Security around each security base was also tightened, with a hundred extra spotters taking up positions along all approaches.
On the morning of the twenty first, I watched a convey of vehicles leave the camp, from the window in my ward. There were around twenty vehicles in all, all non military, with two men per car. Keane later told me they were the reconnaissance teams, sent out to different locations around the north west, to keep an eye on all of Torriero’s movements, and strategic positions. After a check up with the doctor in the morning, I was finally discharged, so I could get back to the hotel. I’ve never been more thankful for something in my life, the solitude had driven me mad. I packed what little belongings Bernard had brought from the hotel, into my rucksack, and headed back. Outside, I walked past an extension being built in the three semi detached houses, to the right of the medical centre. There will be an extra hundred beds within the buildings, the workers were just giving them a final lick of paint, in preparation for the coming battle, and inevitably wounded men. In the afternoon, two trucks out on supply runs, didn’t arrive back within their expected time slots. An attempt to contact them was made, but was unsuccessful, leading to speculation within the camp. Four Vikings were sent out at four pm, along the route taken by the vehicles. At around five pm, a crash site was discovered, where a gun fight took place between members of Torriero’s army and our team. One member of the army was injured, with three members of Torriero’s gang killed, and no arrests. The crash scene was examined, to find the cause of the incident. The truck had been blown to pieces, probably by an IED, with its contents burned. The vehicle had been carrying mainly food, looted from Preston, all destroyed in the fire. There were no survivors, just pieces of bodies. The second truck was never found, although later that night we received a message from Torriero, claiming responsibly for the attack on the first truck, and the disappearance of the second. This caused panic at Camp Blue, particularly within the general community, which culminated in a false alarm with the air raid siren, sending people running for cover. The realities of war were manifesting within our community, and we weren’t prepared for it. The morning of the twenty second continued as the previous day had ended. Four supply runs went out first thing, with extra security cars following behind, but by the end of the day, only one had returned. The three that didn’t return, were found burned out, with all members dead. The fourth truck arrived back, with a story of how it was attacked, and survived. Torriero seemed to know the routes our supply vehicles were taking, and quickly put an end to them. The IED, set to destroy the fourth truck, only half exploded, causing significant damage, but not destruction. The truck and the security car were shot at, by the ambush, but managed to stay on the road and escape. An emergency meeting was called by General Harris, where discussions with the supply team were held. New routes were agreed upon, to be implemented after Christmas, with all runs cancelled until after the holiday. Rations were also imposed on all food and water within the camp, which although not presently low, will fast become so with no supplies coming in, and a lot of mouths to feed in Camp Blue. All chefs and kitchen hands were talked through the rations system, how much each adult and child can have. Implementing it should be easy, with the camp already using a food voucher system.
I felt better waking up in my own bed, with children around me. I will never complain about the bizarre conversations the children involve me in ever again, I really had missed their company. I tried a little light training in the afternoon, but I was collared by Captain Jones, and ordered to leave it until after Christmas Day, and spend some time with the children.
The twenty third of December came and went, with little to report. I spent most of the day making sure we had all the Christmas presents wrapped, ready for Father Christmas. The supply runs had brought back over a hundred more presents than we needed, but the whole operation still took some serious organising. A large meeting room was set aside in the football stadium, and we had a team of around seventy, working in lines, each with a different job, until we had one thousand five hundred and forty two presents wrapped, labelled and organised by hotel floor, and room numbers. The boys presents were wrapped in green paper, the girls red, just as an extra precaution. A team of fifty would deliver the presents on Christmas night, leaving them by the front door of each room containing a child. Each present had to be matched with a child, and then signed off using the list I created with the census. My involvement in this process allowed me the perk of hand picking Emma and the boys presents, from a multitude the supply run came back with. The first reports from the reconnaissance teams that left the previous day started to come through late on the twenty third, Torriero was yet to make a play, with the largest amount of men to leave the camp in one day only around thirty to forty. While the majority of his army remain within the camp walls, we continue to be a step ahead of him. The only concern seemed to be a couple of reconnaissance teams, who had not made contact, and had been due to do so. A fresh attempt would be made to re
ach them in the morning.
On the morning of the twenty fourth, I had to scrape the children off the ceiling, they were so excited.
‘It’s Christmas Eve Dad’ shouted Emma, bouncing on my bed as I tried to remain asleep. ‘Father Christmas will be coming tonight!’
‘You think he will find this place?’ I asked, rolling over and admitting defeat in my attempts to sleep.
‘Of course he will’ shouted James, suddenly taking an interest. ‘He’s magic.’
‘I suppose he is. Don’t expect too much though, there are a lot of children in this camp, he’s only going to be able to bring one present each I think.’
‘Will we be able to stay up, and see him’ asked Josh.
‘What do you think?’ I smiled.
‘No’ he laughed.
‘Exactly, you don’t want to scare him away before he’s left any presents.’
Two vehicles left camp first thing in the morning, while everyone slept, heading for the last known coordinates of the missing reconnaissance teams. By the end of the day, they had returned with no sighting of them, they’d just disappeared. But they did report seeing a large black aircraft in the sky over Nottingham. Their official report described it as such: The size of a football pitch, mirror black in colour, and industrial in design. It hovered in the same place for over an hour, before they moved out, leaving it hanging in the black sky. It sounded similar in description to other sightings we have received reports of, from different locations. The army’s belief, based on all available evidence, is there’s only one large alien aircraft, and it has been spotted in different locations throughout Great Britain, mainly more down south. But it never causes a threat, we had only reports of it hovering in the sky. There have been sightings of a few small aircraft, but again, not offensive, just worker like vehicles. I have often wondered what was happening in other countries, but it’s a mystery, I can only assume something similar to here. But we can only deal with what’s in front of us, other countries will have to sort out their own shit. I had a quick visit to the medical centre in the late morning, to have the bandages removed from my right hand. The doctor was happy with how it was healing, although it was quite a shock to see it, particularly for the children, I have to admit I often forget it’s missing. In the afternoon, what remained of Blue and White Company were called into a meeting in the hotel. We expected to be finding out who our new sergeant was, but as we arrived, it became clear it was about something else. The room was full of companies, maybe twenty, we lined up as General Morris came onto the stage. He explained the technicalities of an operation to destroy the mills used for destroying female bodies, due to take place straight after Christmas. The mission would involve the destruction of twenty one mills, with locations scattered across the country, one mill per company. It was set to take place on the morning of the twenty seventh, and should be completed within twenty four hours. The mission would only go ahead, based on reconnaissance reports of Torriero’s movements, which presently were restricted to his own camp. Blue and White Company got Higherford Mill, in Barrowford, Lancashire. We were given a moderately detailed drawing of the building, and a report confirming all known information, but it added up to not much. When the meeting had concluded, we walked against the tide, to speak to General Morris about the naming of our new sergeant. He was quite dismissive, and refused to be drawn on it, telling us it would be sorted out before we leave. I cannot pretend the preparation for this operation has been anything but a joke, it doesn’t fill me with any confidence about its success. The rest of the night was spent winding the children up into a Christmas frenzy, before bedtime. They all said they would stay awake as long as possible, but were open mouthed and asleep by nine pm, so Bernard and I put them to bed. I had an early night myself, and heard Santa’s little helpers, delivering the presents, as I drifted off to sleep.
One child or another woke me up every hour, until at five I accepted defeat and allowed them to check if Father Christmas had been. They were so excited, it was lovely to see, they still believed. This world may have robbed them of their freedom, but it hadn’t taken their child like wonder. ‘Josh, wake up’ shouted Emma, shaking him until he responded. ‘It’s Christmas morning!’
‘I’m up’ he said, rolling over, and trying to continue with his sleep.
But she was relentless, as I know all too well. She had the boys up, ready, and hovering by the front door within minutes, both still yawning but excited. When we opened the front door, and they saw Father Christmas had been, their faces lit up. ‘I knew he had been’ said Josh, shaking with excitement. ‘I heard him.’
‘When did you hear him?’ Emma asked.
‘During the night, and the reindeers, I heard them outside.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, I wasn’t scared though. I knew who it was.’
They ripped open their presents, wrapping paper flying everywhere.
‘I knew it’ shouted Emma, pulling an ‘Annie’ fashion doll out of the wrapping paper. ‘Just what I wanted, I’m going to be a fashion designer when I grow up.’
‘A dinosaur’ shouted Josh. ‘I wanted a dinosaur more than anything. This is the best Christmas ever.’
‘I got loads of toy cars’ said James, aiming his excitement towards his brother.
‘I know what we can do with those?’ Josh shouted, giggling as he stomped his dinosaur across the top of them. ‘My dinosaur can smash them, and then eat them, all the way into his tummy.’
The rest of Christmas Day was quiet, no army movement, and no deaths. Each floor had their own Christmas lunch with all the trimmings, crackers, hats and bad jokes. I invited Lauren to take her meal on our floor, it was these children she spent most of her time with, and they would love to spend the day with her. After we had all eaten, our floor continued the celebrations with a festive charades, only Christmas songs, films, books and plays were allowed. It past a few hours, and was a lot of fun. When it came to moving, we had all eaten so much, I could hardly extract myself from my seat. The children were all spent, I felt as fat as a pig, and in need of my bed. I was going to spend the next day training, to build some of my stamina back up.
There was a short meeting on the twenty sixth, to confirm the go ahead for tomorrow. We were told to attend another meeting in the afternoon, when we would be introduced to our new sergeant and recruit. I don’t know why they couldn’t tell us at the first meeting, they like wasting everyone’s time in the name of protocol. For the rest of the morning, I did some physical training on the beach, with Little D and a couple of other soldiers, building their fitness. In the afternoon, I joined Little D, Keane and Murphy at the entrance to the meeting room, in the stadium. When we got the call to enter, the door was opened and we filed in. There was three other men in the room, General Morris, Sergeant Welsh and Adrian Harper. As soon as we entered that room, everyone knew what was about to happen, and no one was happy. ‘Thanks for your patience men’ said General Morris. ‘I know you have been anxious to find out who your new sergeant will be, and I’m happy to confirm it will be Sergeant Welsh.’
Not a word was spoke by any of us, I think a few were desperately holding their tongue, as their disgust threatened to boil over.
‘We needed to replace Sergeant Davis with a man of similar stature, and experience, and those men are not easy to find. Sergeant Welsh has many years experience to call upon, with a long distinguished service history, with many successful tours under his belt.’
‘Has he?’ Replied Little D, his destain boiling over.
‘Have you got something to say Private Davis?’ General Morris responded.
‘No sir, nothing at all.’
‘We are all sorry for your loss private, Sergeant Davis was a credit to his unit.’
‘Thank you sir.’
‘But we need a replacement, and Sergeant Welsh ticks all the boxes.’
General Morris stepped aside, to let our new sergeant address his company.
‘First, I w
ant to speak a little about Sergeant Davis, who I know was well liked within this company. War is war, Sergeant Davis was a good soldier, and I’m sorry for your loss, but we have to look forward. Hopefully with a little time I can earn your respect as he did, and we can make this company not just good, but great. Adrian Harper is joining us, I hope you’ll give him as warm a welcome as me. Go and get some food, I want to hold a training session and a briefing after lunch, so meet me at the rifle range at six pm sharp.’
We left the meeting room, and decided to go and get some lunch together, as we had much to discuss. We headed to the dinner hall on my floor, with a little persuasion the guard checking vouchers allowed us all in, as we had military matters to discuss.
‘I cannot believe the arrogance of the prick’ spat Keane, sitting down with his food.
‘We can make this company not just good, but great’ snapped Murphy. ‘What a fucking clown. I swear I’m gonna chin him.’
‘There’s nothing we can do about it now’ said Little D. ‘They’ve made us scapegoats. They don’t wanna deal with the problems Welsh is creating, easier just to stick their head in the sand.’
‘It’s bullshit, we end up losing the best sergeant this camp has, and he is replaced with this prick’ shouted Keane.
Little D was quiet, it was hard to see how he had taken it, he was the least expressive member of the company, except for Adrian. You had to feel sorry for the bloke, walking into this, he looked as uncomfortable as any man I have ever seen. But he is a good choice for our new recruit, we could have ended up with a lot worse. We will just have to make the best of it. Welsh took the rifle exersise after lunch, we all remained tight lipped, and just got through it. He was fairly derogatory about us under his breath, a typical coward, while doing nothing himself, sitting at the table going over paperwork.
Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2) Page 45
