Deep behind enemy lines, p.5
Deep Behind Enemy Lines, page 5
Later that morning he and his mother met Mary in the local coffee shop, and he gave her the pair of earrings he’d bought in Detmold, which she thanked and kissed him for.
When his mother went in search of the Ladies he turned to his sister. ‘I know you look after mum in my absence and although I don’t say it, I just want you to know how much I appreciate it.’
‘And I really do appreciate that your job is demanding, but please try putting pen to paper a bit more often, Bill. Mum does worry about you, and I do too. She needs to know how you’re doing and that you’re safe.’
Duly admonished, he promised to do better in the future then pulled her into his arms and gave her a big bear hug and kiss on the cheek. Since Bill had managed to arrange a couple of hours’ meet-up with two old mates he left his mum and sis to finish their lunch and made his way to the pub to catch up on all the local gossip and scandal, after which later he said cheerio with the promise to get in touch on his next home leave.
Bill returned to his mother’s flat a short time later. After another good chinwag about how he’d been doing, the meeting with his sister and his old mates, her social life, health and finances in general, who’d got married, divorced, died or moved away, he and his mother had their evening meal. She’d cooked his all-time favourite; toad in the hole with mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts and cauliflower. This was followed by rice pudding, the best he’d ever tasted by a long chalk. The mess cook couldn’t even come close to mum’s good old home cooking. Afterwards they sat companionably in the sitting room to watch a couple of hours TV.
When they were having breakfast next morning, Bill asked if she had anything important to do that day.
‘Nothing that a couple of phone calls won’t fix, and a bit of shopping that can wait. Why, what were you thinking?’
‘Well, the weather’s holding up and the sun’s actually gracing us with its presence. So how about a trip to Kew Gardens? We could take a slow stroll around, pick up a couple of houseplants if you see something you like, have a lazy lunch at the restaurant there and then make our way back. We can pick up your shopping locally if you want, then home for a quiet evening.
Or we could even check out what’s showing at the local cinema if you’re not too exhausted, eh! I’m flying out tomorrow evening, and I don’t want to waste the time I have with you; it has to tide us over for the foreseeable future.’
‘Oh, yes, I’d like that. I haven’t been to Kew for years and there’s a film I’ve been hoping to go and see. Not sure if it would be your cup of tea, but it would be lovely to have the company.’
‘OK, you’re on.’
The day turned out to be one of the best for both, one Bill would tuck away in his memory banks to take out and replay whenever his mum passed through his mind. He knew he carried a measure of guilt that he was pursuing his own self-centred ambitions when, really, he should be around for her as the years passed. But he also knew she’d be mortified if she was the one standing in his way of those ambitions. That she wouldn’t countenance. For his part, he made a solemn promise to himself he would do much better on the letter-writing front. He would particularly remember the joy on her face when he gave her the beautiful necklace. It had been a good visit for him, and he hoped for her too.
The day of departure dawned bright and sunny, so mother and son walked to the local park. There was considerable activity today with those walking dogs, children playing on the swings and people sitting chatting on the benches. They met various people his mother knew as they strolled along, some who even remembered him. Mum of course, just had to give chapter and verse about her son to those they met which he bore with equanimity for her sake.
Once they’d done a full circuit they strolled back to the flat, had lunch and spent the early part of the afternoon talking. Or at least his mum did most of that, quizzing him about his work. The amount of information he was permitted to give her was minimal, but he did own up to a certain amount of trepidation about meeting his new boss in Kenya who had quite a formidable, if not interesting, reputation. His unvoiced thought was better the devil you know than the one you don’t.
After they returned from the cinema both having enjoyed the film, and as mothers are apt to do, she then asked about his love life, and his army life in general to date. Indeed, any other subject she could bring to mind. It was obvious that she really wanted to make the most of his short visit. He almost felt as though he’d taken a grilling from his CO for some supposed misdemeanour. Funny how mums can winkle out all the stuff between the lines!
By 1915 hours he was ready to leave, and his mum became tearful when he fondly hugged and kissed her, getting surprisingly choked up himself and almost unable to get the words out to say goodbye.
He made his way to Stansted Airport, which was going to take him a good two hours. The flight out to Kenya was the first stage of his important journey, and he needed to be at the airport at least an hour beforehand to check in. A bit of extra time wouldn’t go amiss in case of hold-ups; a coffee and snack would be good if all went well.
Stansted was no different from any other airport he’d had occasion to pass through. There was the same air of anticipation; places to go, interesting sights to see, same hustle and bustle of people, trolleys and excited children scampering around. He felt much as he had when he was a small boy going somewhere from a major rail station.
Having made good time, he checked in and went to the cafeteria, where he sat looking out over the airfield at aircraft landing and others taxiing down the runway for take-off to destinations unknown.
Boarding for his 2330 hours flight to Nairobi was called, and the mass exodus to the departure gate began. It surprised him just how many people were flying out of the UK at this time of night. Once on board, Bill found his seat, stowed his hand luggage, settled himself in and listened when the airhostess ran through the pre-flight information and instructions. The fuselage reverberated as the huge turbo prop engines of the Bristol Britannia known as the ‘whispering giant’ powered up and the plane began its slow turn to line up with the runway. Bill was forced back in his seat as speed picked up then at last there was the thrill of the lift as the great bird left the tarmac.
Generally speaking, Bill considered himself a man of the moment and wasn’t prone to backward reflection. But on trips like this his mind did wander, and he became a sort of captive audience to thoughts of the events during his last couple of weeks’ leave; his trip to Detmold and all that had taken place there, the incident on the railway platform (he hoped sincerely the woman was recovering and getting the help she needed), the visit with his mother and seeing his sister and then, further back, his steady progress through the ranks from raw enlisted army recruit to his present new promotion of Staff Sergeant, notice of which was received at his mother’s by official government mail, the girls he had gone out with and loved, lost or dumped and myriad other details that had defined his life thus far.
This train of thought held mixed feelings of happiness, euphoria, pain and guilt. He felt, no hoped, this next phase would be as good as his previous army experience. What did they say it’s better to travel than to arrive? Yep, that would do nicely, thank you very much.
The flight took some 11 hours and he slept through most of it, finally waking when the warning lights illuminated and the airhostess announced seat belts must be fastened ready for landing.
Chapter 10
The final approach into Embakasi airport afforded Bill a panoramic view of the landscape below, which set his pulses racing. He was grinning so widely he was sure his mouth stretched from ear to ear. As the aircraft descended he took in the city of Nairobi, its local game-park and further out Kenya’s Tsavo National Game Park. Albeit brief, he caught glimpses of the abundant wildlife; an implausibility of gnu charging in fright across the plain, further out a dazzle of zebra, and in the near distance a herd of quietly grazing antelope. A flash of memory brought to mind him sitting in a geography class and the teacher reciting these collective nouns for some test or other. Some sounded weird then, they still did. Also, on the horizon he could see the snow-covered peaks of Mount Kenya in all its majesty, breath-taking.
After a good landing the pilot taxied to the air terminal. It was just 1230 hours local time, and he estimated it would probably take around twenty-five minutes to disembark, clear customs, get through passport control and retrieve his luggage. Once through he made his way to the main exit where he expected to be met by a member of his new unit. He scanned the outside area for his meet-and-greet and saw a uniformed soldier leaning against an army Land Rover a short distance away in the pick-up lane. It was a face he knew well, an old army colleague from his East Midlands training days; none other than Staff Sergeant Josh Baines who saw Bill and raised his hand. Bill walked over, grinning broadly, and shook his hand.
‘What a blast from the past you are!’ He beamed with obvious delight and gave him a friendly thump on the shoulder. This was the second time in as many weeks that an old colleague had walked back into his life. What goes around comes around, Bill thought.
‘How are you doing? Welcome to Nairobi and the sharp end of Special Communications,’ Josh greeted in his still strong Welsh accent.
‘I’m great. Likewise, you, I trust?’
‘I’m good. How was your trip?’
‘Excellent.’ Bill replied.
‘Jump in and let’s go,’ grinned Josh after helping Bill stow his bags.
The air was heavy with the sweet fragrance of frangipani, bougainvillea and amaryllis; Bill’s final confirmation he really was here in this amazing country. There was frenetic hustle and bustle all around them as people of diverse nationalities - African, Caucasian but predominately Asian men, women and children - were meeting, greeting or taking leave of friends and families. Bill recognised the public transport emblazoned with the Kenyan national colours of red, black and green. These ubiquitous vehicles would probably be as overcrowded as any used in airports and cities globally, countries such as India, Malaya, Singapore and the Hong Kong colonies.
Bill climbed into the passenger seat and they headed away, bound for the local military base that was part of the Kahawa Cantonment north of Nairobi. He scanned the surrounding country and roadside verges through which they drove.
‘I’m really surprised to see how green and lush the vegetation is, considering the high temperatures here.’
‘Yes, well, Kenya gets short and long monsoons, rains to you, every year. These keep the land well irrigated, hence the fertility. The white highlands are even more spectacular, being some 6,000 feet above sea level where most of the farms are owned and managed by white farmers. We’ll take a trip up there later when we have a day spare. We’ll also take in Nairobi city when time permits, have a walk around for an hour or so and enjoy a beer at the Thorn Tree. If there’s enough time we can also have an authentic curry, eh?’
‘Sounds great. I’ll look forward to that.’
As they approached Kahawa Barracks, the road took them past the Army Air Corps base, with its separate aircraft hangers and runway on the periphery of the general military camp area. Bill saw several Scout and Bell Augusta specially modified four-seat helicopters parked just outside the largest hangar, and inside he caught a brief glimpse of a De Havilland Beaver and Twin Otter fixed wing reconnaissance aircraft, which a few Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers were milling around or working on. He also spotted a Bell UH 1 Huey helicopter.
‘A Huey, Josh! Why has Air Wing got this particular baby?’
‘I understand it’s been loaned by the Australian Army for testing, to see if it’s fit for our operational purposes. Air Wing has had it about six months now.’
‘I think it’s an excellent chopper, particularly for operational recovery purposes, mainly because of its extensive manpower payload. It also earned an admirable record of duties as a flying workhorse during the Vietnam War.’
‘That’s certainly good to know. Anyway, to a more immediate issue. I’ve got your accommodation sorted at the HQ Mess in the barracks, just across the road from the Air Wing. When you’ve settled in let’s meet at the bar, sink a few beers, feed your inner man and have a chat about old times and the current situation here.’
‘OK.’
They had finally arrived at 1330 hours, parked up and walked across the road to the mess buildings in the central camp. Global Wireless Services, AAC and other support services such as officers and senior NCOs shared this area. The 1st Battalion the Oxfordshire Regiment’s mess facilities were located separately on the other side of the camp.
Bill’s quarter was large and airy. All in all, he had the necessary creature comforts for what was probably going to be a lengthy stay. It was also conveniently close to most amenities. He smiled with pleasure. Ten out of ten, Josh!
When he’d unpacked, had a shower and changed into fresh clothes he made his way to the bar where Josh was waiting.
‘Accommodation OK?’
‘Perfect.’
Drinks in hand, they strolled around the lounge and Bill was introduced to a few senior ranks, including several helicopter pilots from the Army Air Corps, Air Wing detachment. There was at least one fixed-wing pilot present, Staff Sergeant Ken Noakes, whom Bill knew quite well from previous unrelated operations. They walked over and Bill shook his hand.
‘I see you’re still an old flying dog with the AAC,’ said Bill with a friendly grin. ‘How’s the wife?’
‘Now why the blazes would I want to change horses when I’ve got such a cushy number,’ Ken quipped mischievously, but with an undertone of irony. ‘As for she who must be obeyed, is expecting our first child in a couple of months.’
‘Congratulations! Hopefully both mum and forthcoming babe are doing well?’
‘Yes, very well so far. Thanks for asking,’ replied Ken. ‘So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company, matey?’
‘I’ve come to join this mad hatter bunch of hush-hush boys for a tour,’ laughed Bill.
‘Good for you, my friend, enjoy.’
‘Will do, Ken. See you again shortly. Cheers.’
Bill and Josh ordered another round of ice-cold beers and sat down at a quiet table.
‘Just to fill you in, Josh, I met Ken and his wife Jeannie in the mess when I was on my parachute training course at Aldershot. Ken was a pilot with the Army Air Corps detachment at the Parachute Regiment there.’
‘Right. Well he’s a great guy and an excellent pilot. In fact, he’s one of the best fixed-wing pilots we have here. So, you completed your parachute training and got your wings. What about free fall parachute training?’
Bill smiled. ‘Yes, I’m qualified for static line and free fall parachuting. What about you?’
‘Well, coincidentally, after we parted company as instructors at the East Midlands Training Regiment I was selected for reconnaissance wireless duties at 26 Special Communications Regiment in Bristol. After fifteen months with the regiment, (I was a bit ahead of you then) coupled by a stint with 13 Signals Wireless Intelligence Regiment (SIGINT) at Birgelin in Germany, I was assigned here to the Global Wireless Services unit.
I’m amazed our paths haven’t crossed during all that time. Like you, I was sent on a parachute-training course to P Company where I got my wings. This was in early 1961. I received my promotion to Staff Sergeant at the same time. Shortly after the OC and Mrs Brown arrived at this unit, Major Brown organised a short free fall parachute course for me at RAF Eastleigh in Nairobi because I’d then be qualified in both activities. So, twin hotshot droppers, eh,’ laughed Josh. He was ever full of Welsh valley humour!
Bill laughed. ‘Congratulations. That calls for a celebratory drink if ever there was the occasion.’
Josh went on to give Bill a short overview of how things had been since they’d last met, and then proceeded to update him with a brief background of the operations and assignments currently underway with Nairobi GWS. He expanded with a detailed background regarding the whole active theatre.
‘As you may be aware, we’re having problems from insurgents coming into Kenya from the east and northeast across the Somalia/Kenya border regions attacking mostly undefended, remote and vulnerable villages. Minor townships either geographically close to or bordering the River Tana have also come under attack. Typical action is at Hola and Garsen, where insurgents have been raiding native smallholdings, creating a lot of diversions, killing many locals and stealing their cattle.’
Most of this was news to Bill, who was grateful for the information.
‘How long has this been going on?’
‘About twelve months or so. Muslim fundamentalists led by the infamous warlord Khalid al Gurreh, who has the backing of Ethiopia, Sudan and of course Somalia is the driving force. The 1st Battalion the Oxfordshire Regiment is based here at Brigade HQ and offers a level of support. Unfortunately, their intelligence unit is not able to provide the necessary information required to undertake effective counter-insurgency measures on what are, essentially, guerrilla warfare tactics of hit and run by the insurgents.’
‘Presumably they’re well armed?’
‘They predominantly use the early version of the AK-47 assault rifle, most probably supplied by Sudan. Furthermore, a regiment of the King’s African Rifles is actively operating in the region to undertake combat and contain the insurgents. But again, the quality of local intelligence information they’re provided with and the success they’re having is very limited.’
‘It all sounds decidedly problematic,’ remarked Bill.
‘Yes. On the wider global front, the UK also has its problems with Rhodesia, as I understand it. Rumours abound around the issue of a Unilateral Declaration of Independence by Ian Smith, the Rhodesian Prime Minister. Negotiations between our PM and Ian Smith are likely to take place as a matter of urgency. It’s also rumoured that watershed talks are being predicted for early next year when UDI will actually be declared, as expected.’
