Thrust & Parry: Z Day

by Luke Ashton

  “Yes?” He pointed at Danno, a small stubby private that had been in around 8 years and had 3 tours under his belt. He kept being pushed towards promotion but always refused as he liked being a private.

  “Sir, what’s the SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) for getting to these deployment areas?”

  “If you are called up you’re to treat this as a national emergency. The police have been warned to ignore any speeding motorists dressed in camo. If you get stopped you are to show your deployment papers.”

  “Wow” thought Jim “this really is serious.” More hands went in the air.

  “Taylor” the CO pointed to the back of the room where a ginger sergeant from stores stood.

  “Do we hold the same rights as the police once deployed sir?” Taylor had served in Northern Ireland and his stories of riot control were legendary.

  “You do, as part of your kit you will be given plasticuffs to restrain any civilians. Your store man should supply them, speaking of which, who is he?” The CO enquired.

  “Me, sir.” He replied with a smile.

  “Ah and have you not been issued them yet?”

  “No, sir.” The CO glanced to officer, who had accompanied him that evening, stood by the door to the left of him. The officer disappeared promptly. Taylor followed.

  “Anyone else? Yes” He pointed at Jim whose hand had shot back up.

  “Yes sir, why us? Why now? The police handled the London riots fine, why do they need us for local rioting.”

  “We have collected information from various sources and it seems that the riots are being organised by a resistance group known locally as the Republican Rebellion. They originated in Texas but have recently created cells over here. They have access to some serious weaponry and we have it on good authority that they have managed to get hold of some over here.” Jim had been taking notes so far and he flicked over to his 5th page as the CO finished.

  “But still sir, why use us? Surely SO19 are better trained to deal with this.”

  “This is true. However, our good Mr Cameron has decided to take a no bullshit policy on this one and wants us there as we can shoot on command with a lot less paperwork. Right, I’ve got places to be. Any more questions pass them up the chain. If I don’t see you beforehand, good luck lads, stay safe.” And with that he gathered up his papers and left.

  “Fucking hell Twitch this is serious.” It was Paulie who spoke from the seat behind Jim. Paulie was a massive guy. He was only 5 foot 11 but Jim was sure that when he laid down he was still the same height. He was widely known for being thick because of his size but in actual fact he was an accountant, and a fucking good one.

  “I know mate but it sounds like it’s either going to be getting a shit load deployment pay to lay on a bunk for a few month or it will be getting the chance to get stuck into some cunt on home turf.”

  “You’re a sadistic bastard you know that Jim.” Jim flashed him an evil smile as he slid his fags out and stood up. He stepped out into the cool night air and lit up. Thinking about the possibilities he was lost in a world of preparation. He would need to tell his boss and inform him that he might be borrowing his car at some point. That would go down well. Dan’s car was his baby. It was an old Mini Cooper that he had been fitted with racing seats with an 8 point harness and a roll cage. He’d ripped out any other seating as he planned one day to take it rallying.

  “Parry?” It was the sergeant major who had just reappeared at the bar door. “Twitch where the fuck are you?”

  “Sir?” Jim stuck his head back in the fire escape.

  “Ah, a word in my office ASAP please?”

  “Sir” was all he got back as he dragged in the last of his cig and flicked it in the general direction of the bin. He followed him out the bar, down the stairs and across the drill hall.

  “Something wrong sir?” Jim enquired as they climbed the stairs to the CSM’s (Company Sergeant Major) office.

  “No, no I just need to sort a few bits out.” He replied as he pushed open the door and stood to one side to let Jim in. He braced up in front of the desk and waited for the CSM to settle. As he sat down his bald head shone to the extent Jim was sure he polished it as much as his boots.

  “At ease Parry, take a seat.” He motioned to an old fabric chair next to where Jim was stood. He took a seat and relaxed. “Right, first of all I understand you hit marksman rank on your last 4 ACMT’s (Annual Combat Marksman Test) is that right?”

  “Yes sir but I thought they didn’t count anymore.”

  “That was until they brought this new pea shooter out. I’m giving you one.”

  “Shit, thank you sir.”

  “Don’t thank me yet Twitch, I’m also giving you a section.”

  “Sir?” Jim mused. He had only got his rank a few months ago and hadn’t really had any experience with it yet.

  “The 9 new privates, you trained them didn’t you?”

  “I taught them as best I could sir.” Jim saw where this was going.

  “Well they’re all yours. You’re Mini-me and Gimpy trained aren’t you?” The LMG (Light Machine Gun) or Mini-me as its commonly known was a belt fed machine gun and the GPMG (General Purpose Machine Gun) or Gimpy is it’s big brother.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good, pick 3 of your lads that you think can handle them and take a Gimpy and 2 Mini-me’s. I want them trained up and ready to zero within an hour.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Oh and Jim?”

  “Sir?”

  “Get this deployment right and I’ll make sure you’re fast tracked to full screw.” Full screw was a military term for a corporal.

  “Thanks sir. What section am I now then?” A section consists of 2 fire teams Charlie and Delta that work together in firefights. The section commander (usually a corporal) looks after the section and delegates tasks to the 2ic (2nd in command) to be completed. Each fire team has either the section commander or the 2ic and 3 other soldiers.

  “7 platoon, 5 section.”

  “Thanks sir.” Jim stood, braced up to the CSM and got a nod in return and then left. As he re-joined the lads he cleared his throat.

  “Right lads listen in, the following people on me over here” he pointed to a vacant corner of the drill hall. “Paddy, Reg, Dave, Jones, Jolly, Stump, Whethers, Pinky and Rim.” The group followed Jim over to the corner. He looked round his new section. They all looked so new and green. Paddy had moved from Northern Ireland to go to Uni 3 years ago and had joined up to make some money. He had been waiting to get the security checks to clear for over a year before he was sworn in. They must have been making sure he wasn’t a secret IRA activist. Reg was a painter and decorator that always managed to have some paint on him somewhere. He wasn’t a small guy by any means. Standing at 6 foot 4 with biceps that could bench press Jim. Dave was another student. Studying criminal science he was heavily into CSI style programs and once he had a drink always ended up talking in depth about the best way to kill someone and get away with it. He was built like a twig but had proved that he could carry the same as everyone else on his basic training. Jones was a mechanic just round the corner which had given his some serious upper body strength. Jolly worked as a cashier in some crappy supermarket and had to be the most morbid bloke alive. He had his nickname coined on his first trip down to the TA centre after giving the entry forms a look like they’d just shot his dog. Stump had been on the books the longest and didn’t have a job per say. He bounced about a lot between different jobs but never settled long. He got his nickname from the limp he had. He had fallen off the assault course in Catterick and shattered his Tibia on his basic first time round. He was in rehab for 6 months and came back to try again. Whethers was a quiet guy that kept his head down and got on with everything. The true grey soldier. Jim hadn’t found out what he did outside of the TA yet but it seemed he preferred to listen to others conversations than talk. Pinky first came down to the TA centre with bright pink hair and even after dying it black h
e still kept the nickname. He worked as a barman and part owned a bar in the centre of town. Jim had been in a few times and always drank for free. Finally, Rim had to be the filthiest bloke going, stories of his conquests could turn your stomach and he could make any sentence dirty. A real sexual deviant.

  “As of this moment you are all 7 platoon 5 section.” The guys looked round at each other and smiled. “Dave, Jones, Jolly, Stump. You’re all in Charlie fire team with me. Paddy, you’re my 2ic.” Paddy nodded and instantly produced a notepad and started writing. “You have Reg, Whethers, Pinky and Rim.” Again Paddy nodded as he scribbled it all down. “Reg, Dave, Jones on me. Everyone else go get weapons and ammo.”

  “What’s the crack Twitch?” It was Reg that had spoken first. Probably fearing he was in trouble.

  “Reg, I want you to have Gimpy. Dave and Jones, you both get Mini-me’s.” All 3 men nodded their approval. Small smiles appearing in the corner of their mouths. “You boys are going to be my firepower. You’re gunna have a shit load of weight and I still need you to move like shit off a shiny shovel. That’s why I chose you lot. You have proven you can handle the weight and that you can get angry if you need to.” All the lads were smiling now. “I’ll have a word with the armorer before you 3 go in. I need to tell him to switch my weapon for a sharpshooter anyway.” There was a slight look of disbelief on the lad’s faces.

  “You’re shitting me? With that gun and your eyes there will be nothing fucking left.” Jones mused as they all wandered over to the armoury. By the time they had got there half of Jim’s section had got weapons and were queued patiently for ammo, his was the first section there as the other sections were huddled round discussing stag lists or the Queen’s tash. He pushed past his section and stepped into the armoury. Paddy wasn’t kidding by a shit load of ammo. There was a shoulder high stack on the drill hall floor to be distributed and even so the armoury, which was usually quite a spacey room, had very little room to manoeuvre with ammo boxes stacked up to just above Jim’s head. Ruski looked up as he stepped in.

  “Now then Twitch, you think now you have a stripe you can push in front of the privates?” He joked as he flicked through his weapon sign out book.

  “It’s all good Ruski, it’s my section.”

  “That must be what the CSM wants me for then. He asked to see me but decided it can wait until after your lads have guns.”

  “Yeah, speaking of which, my section has 2 Mini-me’s a Gimpy and a Sharpshooter”

  “You don’t ask for much do you” He winked “Who’s the lucky fucker to get a sharpshooter?” He asked peering over Jim’s shoulder at the bored looking privates behind me.

  “That would be me Sergeant.” Jim beamed.

  “Lucky bastard.” He commented as he handed it over for Jim to give him the serial numbers.

  Jim oversaw the rest of his section getting weapons and ammo and then took them to one side for them to bomb up. This was taking the ammo out of the cardboard boxes and slotting them into the magazines. SA80’s and the sharpshooter took 30 round magazines whereas the Mini-me and Gimpy usually took box magazines of 100 or 200 rounds. The TA however had no such luxury so he drilled the guys on fitting 50 round to return fire if they came under fire. Any more than this and they would take too long untangling it before firing, any less and there would not be enough rounds to keep the enemy’s heads down before they needed to reload. The rest was neatly layered into one of the pouches on their webbing, ready to be pulled out when a reload happened.

  Next, he decided to teach his entire section both Gimpy and Mini-me just in case one of the lads from his section needed to take over. He went round the other sections and borrowed their fire support so that he had more for his guys to practice on. All the other section commanders were sympathetic as he had no combat experience what so ever in his section. On his was round he had a quick word with Taylor.

  “You got anything special for me buddy?” He asked as he set down the 2 LMG’s he’d acquired from 2 section by his feet.

  “You tell me mate?” He stepped to one side and Jim poked his head into stores. There were stacks and stacks of Osprey body armour and circular riot shields as well as boxes with small black tubes in them.

  “What’s in there?” Jim pointed to the boxes.

  “Retractable batons mate, plus an added extra of a few cans of pepper spray each.”

  “When do we get them?”

  “When the CSM lets me give you them mate.”

  “Fair one, when I’m done here could you take my boys through some crowd control techniques?” Knowing Taylors history, Jim thought it would give his lads a much needed edge.

  “Sure mate let me know.” He picked up the Mini-me’s and wandered back to his lads who were practicing load and unload drills with weapon slings instead of belts of real ammo.

  “Section Commanders on me.” Ruski called from the armoury doors. Jim wandered over with the rest of the section commanders to find out what was happening. “Section?” Demanded Ruski as Jim stepped in.

  “5 Sergeant” replied Jim expectantly. Ruski made a note and asked for a signature before opening a box with a number 5 on and produced a Sig Saur pistol.

  “Pistol, Holster and 5 mags.” Ruski handed them over and Jim stepped out of the armoury to check it was clear. The Sig was a 9mm pistol without a safety catch. Instead it took a lot of pressure to pull the trigger without cocking it first but it meant there was no fiddling with switches and buttons when you need it. He wandered over to the ammo pile and signed out enough ammo to wage a small war with his pistol. He went and sat back over with his section and bombed it up while he watched his section practice. They looked good already.

  “5 section fall in for the range.” Paulie was running the range and decided to let Jim’s lads go first as they would take the longest. His lads replaced the support fire weapons and fell in outside the garages to zero their weapons. The pistol range was indoor and 100m long. It had 4 firing points at one side and mechanical paper targets that could be moved right up to check your shots. The back wall was made of thick rubber to absorb the rounds. With sand at the back to catch any that made it through. It was looking well used as the rubber was visibly worn and Jim wouldn’t be comfortable firing without the sand there. 4 lanes had already been set up so Jim decided to let the other lads go first and take his rifle and fire support through in one go. After every shoot he would go round each lane and advise the lads on better ways to shoot and tell them what they did right. When it came to support fire he had Paulie watch over the other 3 while he, himself, shot. Paulie had done a lot of support fire weekends and even carried a Gimpy in Afghanistan.

  He slotted the ear defence on as Paulie gave the safety brief and told each soldier what they should be firing. Paulie then gave the necessary commands to load and cock the different weapon systems and then told the lads to carry on and start firing. Jim was laid down in the prone position as he took off the safety catch and settled himself into the cheek piece. He rested the magazine on the ground and placed each elbow comfortably on the ground to reduce sway. He looked down the sight and aimed the green cross over the centre of the target. He took a few deep breaths and then slowly breathed in and held it. The others were already firing around him but he barely heard them. He was focused. He slowly squeezed the trigger until the rifle kicked in his hand. Its recoil was harder than he expected but the gun didn’t move as his body absorbed it. He repeated the process 4 more times and then applied his safety catch. The target was brought forward and he looked at the holes. The rifle was firing high as the holes were just above the targets head. They were central but too high so he adjusted and reshot. The next set were spot on where he had aimed and all 5 rounds went damn near through the same hole. He decided to reshoot once more just to be sure and once again it was spot on.

  Jim took his lads downstairs as the rest of the lads were playing with plasticuffs and riot gear or sizing up their body armour. He took them over to Taylor who issued them
all a set of the kit. The plasticuffs were the proper issue ones that were like double zip ties. They were designed for single but easy use. The Osprey were the old issue that didn’t have the built in webbing. Looks like Jim would need his webbing after all. Jim’s section started to wander off to play with their new kit so he called them back into stores and pulled the door to.

  “You free to show us now bud?” He asked Taylor as he dropped his kit neatly on the floor.

  “Sure but I need a volunteer.” Taylor asked with a mischievous look in his eyes.

  “Where do you want me?” Asked Rim with a wink.

  “Right” said Taylor as he pulled his helmet on, picked up a shield and a baton “I want you to try beat the shit out of me, don’t stop until I stop moving or until I say banana.”