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Authors: J Murison,Jeannie Michaud

ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold (24 page)

BOOK: ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold
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CHAPTER 26

 

The smoke seemed to be getting sucked away.  Instead of spreading out, it began to stream in one direction.

‘What’s happening Jim?’

‘Fuck knows.’  I turned to a shell that was producing copious amounts of smoke a meter away and heaved it out by its tail fins.  Fritz went one better; he jumped over the parapet and began clearing the shells to our front.  ‘Be careful of the booby traps,’ I screamed.  Soon we had cleared a ragged smoke free line about 70 to 100 meters in front of our position.

 

Abie howled in surprise as a stone bounced off the ground a few meters from him.  He looked up to find Davie McAlister waving and pointing.  ‘Jim, they’re coming.’

No one needed telling twice, we raced to our positions.  Abie waved once, before diving down beside the big gun.

 

Our first warning was the sharp crack of a grenade and a scream of pain.  They scrambled out of the smoke and were momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight and we mowed them down with automatic fire.  They came in rushes forty men here, a hundred there, and once a group of five came blundering out of the smoke and by some strange consensus none of us fired.  They stopped at the line of screaming dying men; took it in at a glance and hightailed it.

 

A sharp crack of a grenade to our right, and we ran to that quarter just in time to stem a fresh tide.  The pace of the fight was relentless and memory dissolved into certain incidents.  Abe’s rifle jamming and an assailant jumping onto the parapet in front of him ready to fire, he had already dropped the weapon to search for another.  When the man appeared in front of him, defenceless and in desperation, he gave him a full on Moiré.  The man recoiled in shock losing balance, it was all the time Fritz needed.  Rounds ripped into his torso knocking him clean off the top of the parapet then throwing his rifle to Abie and picking up another on the run and both men firing simultaneously into a pack of the man’s friends as they to hit the perimeter.

 

Nommy and Grizz jumping the wall and charging into the flank of almost a hundred men scattering them before diving back into safety.  Gigs, giving up the .30 to Abie and running back and forth, plugging gaps with grenades, as we were almost overwhelmed again and again.

 

The smoke thinned out then stopped as the mortar men were forced to abandon their positions leaving only the artillery at the far end of Betrovich out of sight firing at the platoon above and the pass.  With the smoke gone, we punished them heavily.  I had trouble with a rebel sergeant.  The man was a professional pepper potting forward in short rushes bringing his platoon forward in the same manner.  I found myself screaming for Gigs.  It wouldn’t be long before he started lobbing grenades of his own.  I fired at a spot and Gigs put a grenade on it as I swung fire to deal with his men as they came closer, he dived right onto it and was thrown high into the air landing in plain view.  With the demise of the sergeant, the heart seemed to go out of them.  Some ran, others dived for cover but it was over.

 

I found myself looking around expecting to find my friends dead.  Grizz was lying with his head resting against his rifle butt with Nommy spread-eagled at his side.  An upwelling of emotions I’d never felt before began to choke me.  Then Nommy delved into a pocket and produced a packet of cigarettes.  Grizz turned his head to listen to something he said.  I whipped my head round as someone fired in response to incoming fire, Abie.

 

‘Are you alive Buff?’

‘Just.  Where’s Ali?’

‘I think he’s lying behind Abie.’

‘Is he?’

‘No, he’s just slung something at Abie.’

 

‘Hey Jim, look at fit we just found.’  It was Gigs and Fritz carrying a case.  I couldn’t believe it; we were all alive.

‘Fit.’

They opened the damaged case to reveal a dozen claymore mines.  ‘A shell ripped it out ó the ground.  Lucky it never went off, eh.’

‘Aye.’  I was reeling with relief, or was it shock.  I scrambled over to Abie who was still firing.  ‘Ease doon min.’

‘Eh!’

‘Ease doon a bit, they’re finished.’

‘Whit, really finished, ye mean we’ve won?’

Gigs, Fritz and Buff had followed me over and there was only one thing on their mind, Fritz voiced it.  ‘What now Jim?’

CHAPTER 27

 

‘My god that’s quite a story,’ Mr. D’Ord blurted.  ‘But why the deception, we knew they were attacking, we even had Arial photographs from a highflying reconnaissance plane to back your story up.  You should have been receiving medals not hiding in a pit full of lies.  Why?’

‘To protect me, that’s why.’

‘No Jim,’ Buff hissed.

 

I had said nothing during the whole telling; now it was my turn.  It was now I would be judged on my actions on the ebb of the battle; it was something I’d never discussed, even with Buff.  The others joined Buff’s chorus of dissent.  Even Abie added his voice.  I felt so fucking old, the burden of guilt dragging me down into the abyss of my own private hell.

‘The story isn’t finished then,’ Mr. D’Ord prompted gently, seeing my distress.

‘Not quite.’

Their voices rose asking me to keep quiet.  ‘Leave it Jim,’ Buff snarled.

‘No, damn it, I’ve carried this long enough.’  I caught sight of the barman looking over, taking interest in the raised voices.  I forced my body to relax into a non-aggressive posture, but my anger gave me the strength to go on.

 

 

‘Whit now Jim?’  Fritz asked.

Nommy stuck his head up to high and high velocity rounds cracked overhead.  ‘Keep your head down, you stupid looking cunt,’ I roared.

He grinned all the way over.  ‘Sorry manny, fits happening?’

 

I took a good look around.  We had stopped the attack that much was certain.  Half the town was ablaze; there would be no reinforcements for our assailants, not for a while anyway.  So there was no longer a risk to the battalion or the platoon for that matter.  There was also no longer any reason for us to stay here, but we had a problem; there was still enough spunk in them to keep up a harassing fire.  If we stayed until help arrived, we risked getting picked off by snipers.  I looked at their faces, we were all mentally and physically exhausted.  They hadn’t started to come down yet, but when they did, it would be with a crunch and tired men make mistakes.

An hour from now I would be lucky if I could drag them awake, myself included, but if we tried to ascend the cliff path, we would probably get picked off on the way up, catch twenty-two.  Then again, when help did arrive, they would probably get picked off on the way down; costing the lives of men, we had fought so desperately to save.  Is there such a thing as a catch forty-four?

A machine gun opened up on us from somewhere, aiming for the .30 calibre. Sandbags disintegrated under the concentrated fire.  ‘Gigs shut that fucker up will ye, I’m trying to think.’

‘On it.’  Shortly a single shot rang out and the machine gun was silenced.

‘Gigs, if ye catch any cunt taking pot shots at us, kill them.’  It wouldn’t be a bad thing to send them a message and let them know we were still on top at the same time.  I had already decided we would have to leave, but how.  I was fucked if I was going to risk anybody’s life now.  My mind raced over the possibilities, shearing away in panic from some.  In the end, they made the decision for me.

The crack of Gig’s rifle was followed by the blast of grenade against the perimeter.  Gigs was knocked back by the blast, he sat up spitting dust.  ‘Bastard.’

I rushed over, ‘Are ye á right?’

‘Aye just winded, there was a fucker out there playing dead we a grenade in his hand.  He decided to play the hero, I was lucky I got him.’

‘Fuck it, that’s it-were leaving.’

 

I took an inventory of our ammunition, there wasn’t much left.  Three mortar bombs, one of them stuck in the tube.  The claymore mines, which we could have done with earlier, nine grenades plus almost a dozen that had been laid as booby traps and the two I had in my pocket.  There were almost five hundred rounds for the .30, seventy magazines for the AK and two thousand for my gun.  We could probably have fought off one more attack, a small one.

 

‘OK, listen in everybody, we’re leaving, Nommy, Grizz dismantle the mortar, lay the two bombs armed in the bottom of the pit we a couple of claymores.  Lay the mortar and base plate on top and gather up all those charges.  The rest of ye start picking up all the spent magazines and pack them back into their boxes.  Put any spare weapons onto the pile and layer them with Nommy’s charges, claymores and grenades.  Afore ye go up the hill, toss your weapons and any ammo you have left on top, we’re leaving fuck all.  The boxes wí the empty mags will go on top to weigh the lot down.

 

Gigs stand too beside the thirty and use it if it’s needed.  If you run out of ammo, throw it on the pile.  I’ll be last wí the gun.  I’ll set the lot off’

‘What about the ammo that’s left for the gun, will we put most on now?’

‘No Buff, if there’s any left I’ll deal with that as well.’

‘Fit d’ye mean if there’s any left, there’s thousands of rounds for it.  What are ye going to do?’

‘Dinna ask.’

‘Dinna give me your shite Murison, what are you going to do?’

‘I can’t risk them taking a pot shot at us on the way up.’  I moved the gun over to the right, Buff bent to help we the ammo.  ‘No, I do this on my own.’  None of them really understood what I was going to do until a couple of rounds slapped into the first body, then the second then the third.

 

‘You can’t do that,’ Abie screamed, diving onto my back.

‘Get this fucker off me,’ Buff and Nommy dragged him off screaming.

‘That’s fucking murder I, they might just be wounded.’

I got up and shook him, ‘Aye that’s right; it’s just plain fucking murder.  Just thank the Lord it’s nae you that’s got to do it.’

‘Bit ye canna man,’ he spluttered in my face.

‘Fit happened over there a minute ago, fit happened?’

‘Bit.’

‘Bit fit, we were lucky Gigs got that fucker, we might no be that lucky next time.  Do you want me to let the next fucker waltz right in here and shove a grenade up your arse?’

‘No but.’  He slumped, defeated.

‘I ken man; I’ll try and give them every chance I can OK.’

 

I went back to it, two rounds, a double tap into each body, dead wounded, unconscious maybe, I don’t know.  It wasn’t long before the survivors realised what was happening and the first one panicked.  A soldier shot through both legs broke cover screaming for mercy.  I stopped firing and let him crawl away.  As soon as he was out of the way, I resumed firing.

Shortly after another bolted into the open, again I stopped firing letting him get clear.  More appeared when I got Gigs to pulverise a piece of old wall with the .30 cal. One man returned fire but stopped soon enough when he realised we were letting him go.  The message became clear, those who could, got up and left, most of them dragging or carrying their screaming comrades.

I shepherded them away from good cover towards the bridge with a few carefully placed shots, then I systematically put two rounds into anyone left, destroying cover where I could and killing anyone stupid enough to stay behind.  I came to the body of the sergeant who had almost got into grenade range; his dead eyes seemed to be following me.  I remembered his bravery and as a mark of respect moved on to the next corpse without firing.  The rounds for the .30 didn’t last long and it soon joined the pile.  By the time I had finished, there was no more incoming fire.

 

 

My mind turned back to the present.  ‘Apart from covering them on the way back up that’s about it.’

‘Did anyone open fire on them as they made their ascent?’  D’Ord asked frowning heavily.

‘Aye, your fucking right they did,’ blurted Ali, who had almost been hit on the way up.  ‘Bit nae for long, eh Jim?’

‘No Ali, nae for long, a couple of diehards in deep cover started taking pot shots at him.  I managed to bag them.  Another opened up on Fritz.  When I destroyed his cover, he threw out his weapon and tried to surrender.  I shot him, no one else tried.  When they’d all made it up to safety I tossed the gun and the remaining ammo onto the pile, put a grenade on the top and the bottom of the pile and blew the lot, then followed them up, the rest you know.’

 

He didn’t seem very happy about my revelations and took a minute or two to let things sink in.  The silence round the table was agonising.

‘Tell me, do you think you were right to take the action you did?’

‘At the time, yes.’

‘And now?’

‘Now, I prefer not to think about it if I can help it.  The dead are dead, the crippled are crippled, what happened can’t be changed, so I don’t see the point of dwelling on the matter or wishing it could be different.’

‘If you had to go back and face the same situation again, would you take the same action?’

‘Without hesitation.’

‘Wouldn’t you do anything differently?’

‘No.’

‘Just no?’

‘No, I can see what you’re getting at, but the answers still no.  The simple fact that we’re all able to sit here and talk about it sound of mind and body is all the justification I’ll ever need.’

‘Even for slaughtering helpless men?’

I felt the tension build inside, ‘yes, even slaughtering helpless men, every fucking one of them represented a threat.’

‘Every one?’

‘Every one.  You weren’t there to judge the rate of incoming fire or tell us what to do, it’s easy to sit there and pontificate when it isn’t your soul that’s bleeding.  I couldn’t see who was shooting at us and they had already shown they were capable of playing dead to get in close.  Tell me, if someone gave you a jar full of sweets and told you one was poisoned, would you take the risk or throw out the whole jar.  There was only one unarmed man I killed that day and that was just after he tried to kill Fritz.  He had his chance to walk, but he wanted to play the hero.  When he was caught out, he tossed his rifle and tried to walk.  How many more of his ilk was there out there, I didn’t know; couldn’t know.  If I’d let him walk the next man might have killed one of us and tried the same thing.

I put an answer to that question with a full stop, no one else tried; every man out there with an itchy trigger finger knew what would happen to him if he did.’

‘How do you think a court of law would see it?’

The air was suddenly crackling with tension.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to have gone.

‘A court of law would see it the same way I do, military or civil.’

‘How do you see it?’

‘Do you really want to know?’

‘Yes I think I have to.’

‘Fair enough.’  I leaned towards him, my eyes as hard as granite.  I was fighting again.  I didn’t know what kind of battle this was, all I knew was I was fighting one of the most desperate battles of my life.  ‘I murdered those men, that’s how I see it, every single one of them.  I perpetrated an atrocity that hung half a dozen Nazi’s at Nuremberg, but I carried out that atrocity on my own, with no help from any man here, if this is to go on record then let it show that some of them even tried to stop me.  I take full and complete responsibility for my actions that day and theirs.

I’m not an officer, not now and not then.  Then I wasn’t even considered fit enough to be a lance corporal.  I’m quite sure an officer with all his fancy training could have found a different way of doing it, I couldn’t.  I was a private soldier, I assessed the situation as I saw it and dealt with it in the only practical way I could, using what I had available to me at the time.  Tell me what do you think would have happened if we didn’t do what we did?’

He took a deep breath to answer, but the words seemed to get stuck somewhere.  ‘Well?  If we hadn’t got that warning out to you what do you think would have happened?’

He was beginning to look decidedly uncomfortable.  ‘The battalion could have been badly mauled.’

‘Badly mauled, try wiped out, that would probably be nearer the mark.  And try this one for size, according to our officer, there was nothing happening over there.  Once we got the message out for the casevac all we really had to do was jump back into our trenches and wait until you sent us up replacements for them.’  I could see common sense begin to battle the anger flowing round his large frame.

‘Yes, I can see your point.’

‘Can you?  We were just jocks remember, realistically that’s what we should have done, and when they attacked we should have just surrendered.  Oh, I’m sure we would have all been pretty ashamed of ourselves. Christ we could have fired off all our rounds then surrendered and felt pretty proud of ourselves for doing our bit, but the rest of the battalion would have still been mauled as you like to put it, and who do you think would have got the blame for that little catastrophe.  I’ll tell you something I've never told anyone.  There are nights when I sit in the dark with a bottle of whiskey sitting open in front of me contemplating these things I’ve done.  When the sweats and shaking stops I put the light back on and pour the smallest nip, then put it away until the next time my conscious demands retribution.

Tell me if we hadn’t done what we did, who do you think would be sitting in the dark with that bottle of whisky, me, you Ivan?  If you’d survived, do you think you would have the courage not to blooter the whole bottle then another and another?  You know the worst thing for me about the whole situation, I still don’t know if I was right.  I was a private soldier for God’s sake, we all were.  But every man at this table was prepared to sacrifice his life that day for you, the platoon and the battalion.  When the fighting was over and I realised by some miracle we had all survived I was fucked if I was going to risk any one of their lives then.

BOOK: ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold
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