The Sixteen (34 page)

Once through we sat on the sand for about ten minutes before we heard someone coming towards us along the beach. Dynamo and Spot quietly got to their feet, immediately ready for any problems. But it was only Ken looking for us.

‘What’s happened here?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows in query as he glanced over at me before speaking again to Dynamo. ‘Did you get the job done?’

‘Yes it went well apart from this.’ Dynamo pointed towards my injured leg as he spoke. ‘And before you ask we got it!’

Ken paused briefly before replying: ‘Well done. Come on let’s go.’

‘We’ll tell you all about it on the way. OK Geordie? Let’s get out of here!’ Chalky said as he helped me to my feet.

Ken spoke briskly as he led the way. ‘Right, this way, I’ve got the hack further along the beach, it’s a bit too close to the main road just here. I’ve been here for about fifteen minutes and there’s been quite a few vehicles passing by.’

They helped me along the beach for about three hundred yards or so to where Ken had landed and promptly lifted me inside on to the floor, and Chalky put a set of headphones on me as the helicopter quickly took off. Both he and Spot clung on to me all the way back. We’d had no sleep for over twenty-four hours and I was suddenly very tired, so with the help of the painkillers and the constant drone of the engine, I quickly fell asleep.

The next thing I knew we were back at the hangar. Chalky had lifted the headphones off me and the racket of the helicopter woke me up. He and Spot helped me out and, as usual, Ken wasted no time in taking off. It was early Thursday morning and I seemed to spend the hours to lunchtime dozing in and out of sleep.

Chalky dressed my wound in a type of elastic bandage, which he wrapped right around my leg. The ends of the bandage on each side of the cut were sticky and laced up together like a shoelace. It was quite strange but very effective; I’d never seen anything like it before. He also placed a lint pad covered with antiseptic on to the cut itself before he laced up the dressing, thereby drawing the edges of the wound together.

‘It’s a clean cut and with a bit of luck it won’t be infected and should heal up fairly quickly as long as you change the bandages every couple of days. Whatever you do, don’t let anyone see this or you’ll probably have to report sick,’ he warned, as he gave me a couple of spare bandages and some more painkillers. ‘That should do you, but make sure that no one sees that!’ he instructed, pointing to the strange bandage.

‘You’ll have to work on that leg,’ Spot warned me. ‘We’ve got until four o’clock tomorrow afternoon to get you back on your feet.’

The rest of that day and the next I hobbled about, trying to put more and more weight on to my leg, and, by the time I was ready to leave I just had a slight limp. Once back at camp, I’d have the rest of the weekend to work on it. If anyone questioned what had happened, I’d decided to say that I’d caught it on a broken bedspring, and as this was a fairly regular occurrence around the camp, no one would question it!

A
t 0900 hours on 24 December 1959, I was sitting on the jetty at Limassol. The place was swarming with thousands of other troops, all like me with their kit, all chatting excitedly about going home, all looking forward to it eagerly. But, gazing towards the distant snow-capped Troodos Mountains, I sat quietly, lost in thought.

Oh boy, I’m certainly going to miss those guys. I wonder what they’re doing right now, I wondered? Could it be the end for them too? Perhaps they’re sitting here in amongst this lot?

I eagerly scanned the faces of the waiting troops but saw no one I recognised. I must have sat like that for ten to fifteen minutes when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

‘Don’t tell me you’re going t’miss this place, Geordie?’ a voice said, close to my ear.

I turned quickly. For one brief moment I thought (hoped?) it might be Dynamo, Chalky or Spot, but it was just Bill, sitting next to me.

‘What’s t’matter, you were miles away? You’re not really going to miss this stinking place, are you?’

‘No, of course not, Bill,’ I replied quietly. If only he knew, if only I could tell him what I was really going to miss and what I was going through right at that moment. It was as bad as the wrench I’d felt leaving my family two years before, the same yet very different, and for very different reasons. But I felt just as empty!

For the last eighteen months, those guys had become the brothers I had never had.

No one in my life so far had treated me the way they had, with them I’d been a man among men. Yet we’d never once discussed a single personal thing, they’d merely accepted me for what I was, for what they knew I could be, for what I became. They had always treated me with respect, as their equal and with them I’d always felt that I truly belonged. The worst thing about leaving was the absolute knowledge that once I left there could be no turning back. I would never see them again.

I’d hated every single minute of being in the army, the regular army that is, and was really longing to see my family again. But I’d changed completely and part of me desperately wanted to stay behind with the guys. I’d never wanted medals or glory, just the chance to prove to myself that I wasn’t thick or stupid like my dad thought. Ever since I’d been a kid, I’d always felt different, the odd one out, and yet even then I’d known that I’d been different, better than what he said about me, that I hadn’t been stupid.

But now, when for once in my life I’d done something that would prove just what I was capable of, I was completely unable to tell a soul about it. How could I? Doing so would be to betray their trust and besides, who would believe me anyway? I was just a young Geordie lad doing his National Service in the Pioneer Corps.

Now, sitting looking at the mountains with the moment of
leaving only minutes away, I felt so alone and empty. There was a hollow, sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Is this the end then, or just another beginning? Just how far could I have gone with them, I wondered. One thing I was absolutely certain of, I would never, ever meet their like again.

It was a few weeks since I’d last seen them, but it felt like only yesterday when Ken had told me the bad news. His words were imprinted on my brain. I’ll never be able to forget that day. It was the day that a part of me died, the day that for the first time in my life I’d wanted to shout and swear, using every disgusting word in the book!

I’d been collected and taken up to the old tin hut as usual but had been surprised to see Ken there as, on the way up in the jeep, Chalky hadn’t said anything about there being a job on. Ken had said he wanted to see me alone, but I’d never dreamt that it would be to tell me what he did.

He’d stood in front of me and immediately I’d sensed that something was seriously wrong.

His whole manner had been so different. His face had a look of sadness and he even stammered slightly as he began to speak.

‘Er, Geordie, um, I don’t want you to misunderstand what I’m about to say, but obviously I can’t explain in too much detail because of security. When I heard that you wanted to sign on for another three years it really was the best news we could have received, and when I say “we” I mean all of us in this tin hut, as you call it.’ He smiled, briefly.

‘Believe me, Geordie, it really was the best news. You surprised every one of us here, far beyond what we expected. So you see, Geordie, lad, you really were one of us more than you could ever imagine, which is why it’s killing me to tell you this, but I’m afraid your time is up, old boy. You’re going to have to go home with the
rest of them, which really should be good news, shouldn’t it? But it bloody well isn’t!’

It felt as if the bottom had just fallen out of my world. I was speechless, totally dumbstruck by the shock of his words and just stood there staring at him in utter disbelief. Surely he had to be joking, I thought. But I could see by his face that he wasn’t, he looked utterly wretched.

‘It’s like this,’ he went on, his voice seeming to come from a long way off. ‘As you know, in February this lot buried the hatchet, the government allowed Makarios back in March and has agreed to let them have their way. Early next year it’s going to become a republic. National Service is all washed up and your lot are off home soon; we’ve known about it for some time now but we were hoping that we could find a way around it. Believe me we’ve tried, but it seems that there are some things which are impossible, even for us!

‘You see, Geordie, if you signed on now you would be signing on for the regiment that you’re in, but that whole regiment is now going back to Blighty and it will be very difficult for us to recall you. There are going to be some big changes for us too, but I can’t say what they are. It has suited our purposes for you to be where you were and in the outfit you were in. Although 518 Company will be staying behind, the “things” which have helped to make all of this possible won’t be here then, so even getting you transferred to them would be pointless, if you understand what I am getting at,’ he said, meaningfully. ‘The changes about to take place on this island are going to affect all of us, we need to have you where we need you, Geordie, and that just isn’t possible with your regiment being sent back.

‘I’m afraid that the only thing that you’re going to get out of this, Geordie, is some crummy Active Service Medal,’ he said, his voice heavy with sadness.

‘No, Ken, no!’ I burst out, suddenly finding my voice. ‘Don’t say that, it’s not true. You’re totally wrong, I’ve got something that I’ve wanted all of my life. You’ve made me what I’ve always wanted to be, you’ve given me what I’ve always wanted – my confidence! All I ever wanted was pride and self-confidence and it doesn’t matter to me if no one ever knows. I’ll know it! That’s the only medal I want and believe me, Ken, I’ll wear that badge with pride for the rest of my life!’

For the rest of that afternoon we did nothing. The five of us just sat drinking tea, laughing and talking about the jobs we’d done, the places we’d been together and how we had made fools of them all. The lads did their very best to cheer me up, but nothing really could. A huge part of me had died!

I knew that they, like Ken, were genuinely saddened by the situation and I left them as I’d joined them, knowing nothing more about any of them at all other than that they were, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the finest, most remarkable men I would ever meet.

They each shook my hand in turn, too saddened by the situation to say much. I just couldn’t speak, I was choked, totally gutted by the fact that I would never see them or be with them again.

I’d thought long and hard about signing on and believed that it was merely up to me to make a decision and that once I had, they would be able to sort everything out as they always had done before. It had never occurred to me that anything like this might happen.

Ken placed his hand on my shoulder, his gaze steady and direct, and his voice heavy with regret. ‘You were a soldier of the future, Geordie,’ he said, but I didn’t quite understand what he meant. ‘Things will be different believe me, one day you’ll see. Look after yourself, lad.’ Then turning quickly, he walked away without looking back.

‘Take care, Geordie,’ Spot spoke quietly and gripped my hand, then he too turned and followed Ken.

Dynamo shook my hand vigorously and leaned over to whisper in my ear: ‘I’ll tell you a secret, Geordie, I come from the place where they make the best cheese,’ he said quietly, then stepped back and looked directly at me.

‘Never mind, nothing lasts forever you know, does it? But we certainly showed them how it was done, eh!’ he said with a wink, then he too turned away and was gone.

I stood rooted to the spot.

‘Come on, Geordie, time to go, let’s not hang about,’ Chalky said quietly and for the last time I climbed into the jeep alongside him.

‘You were the best, Geordie, the fastest learner I’ve ever seen! Always remember that,’ he said as he started the engine.

‘You don’t have to try to cheer me up by saying things like that,’ I told him, my throat constricting as eventually I managed to speak.

He shook his head. ‘No, honestly, Geordie, believe me I’m serious.’

We didn’t speak again until he stopped to drop me off.

‘Take care, Geordie,’ was all he said, then winked and spun the jeep around and drove off in a thick cloud of dust. I just stood there watching him disappear, shocked and numb.

I was supposed to have been working at another camp that day and waited at the side of the road for the working party truck to come by and pick me up. I wanted to be on my own; not with a bunch of noisy joking blokes and for a while I sat quietly, not joining in or making conversation with the other lads.

‘Cheer up, Geordie, it might never happen.’ The lad next to me poked me in the ribs. Suddenly I remembered what Dynamo had whispered.

‘Where do they make the best cheese in England?’ I demanded.

‘Eh? What do you want to know that for?’ he asked in surprise.

‘Never mind, where is it?’

‘Well, there’s stacks of places, depends on what you consider to be the best, I suppose. There’s Cheddar, Cheshire…’

‘Lancashire,’ someone else chipped in.

‘Leicester!’

‘Wensleydale.’ Suddenly, they were all at it.

‘Well, I like Caerphilly!’

‘What about Derby?’

I burst out laughing as I realised that in the end Dynamo had told me nothing about himself at all!

And I thought he’d broken the rules, but should have known better!

I looked up at the ship we were about to board,
The Devonshire
. It was a fairly small ex-passenger liner, which had been drummed into service as a troop carrier during the war. We’d been told that torpedoes had hit it on a couple of occasions and obviously it hadn’t sunk, but whether this gem of information was to make us feel more secure or not was difficult to say.

Well, the enemy didn’t get us but it looks as though some stupid civil servant probably will by trying to save a few quid and cramming as many of us on to this old tub as possible, I thought. Looking at it, it seemed impossible to me that it could carry so many men.

‘Not to worry lads!’ the officer in charge told us. ‘We know it looks a bit on the small side but it was designed to carry two thousand civilians and it’s been altered to carry all of us.’

‘Oh, well, that’s made us feel a lot better, Sir,’ I said.

We were kept hanging around for a few more hours, for whatever
reason nobody knew, before we eventually started to board the old rusty bucket. Fed up with having to wait around for so long, by this time most of us couldn’t have cared less what it looked like, as long as it got us home.

Going up the gangplank ahead of Bill, I kept stopping and looking back. I had some stupid notion that a miracle might happen, that there would be a sudden change of plan and they’d say that we weren’t leaving, that there were just too many of us and we had to disembark immediately, that somehow ‘The Sixteen’ had managed to fix it. For once, I actually wanted to hear some big-mouthed sergeant calling out my name, telling me that I had to stay behind.

‘Come on, Geordie, get a move on,’ Bill nudged me. ‘You’d think you didn’t want t’go ’ome. Are you sure you’re not going t’miss place?’

We’d been told that as soon as we boarded we were to go straight to our allocated sleeping quarters, but it was a struggle to get through the doors with our rucksacks and rifles. The ‘sleeping quarters’ consisted of row upon row of hammocks and I quickly picked one near a porthole. There was nowhere to stow our gear so we just threw our things on the floor; dozens of us were crammed into a room that was probably designed to accommodate half a dozen civilians.

The majority of us went up on deck and hung around there until, after another couple of hours, we felt the ship eventually move. A huge cheer went up and we watched as Cyprus, our home for the last eighteen months, slowly and gradually began to fade from view.

I stood alone leaning on the rail and kept on watching, long after most of the others had become bored and gone off elsewhere. Were Dynamo, Chalky, Spot and Ken up on that mountain somewhere
practising, possibly sitting with their binoculars trained on the ship watching me, I wondered? Perhaps they were already off on another operation, or maybe, just maybe, they were here on board amongst all of these thousands of troops. And if they were, what would I do if I saw them?

The thought had occurred to me that they might already be training someone else, my replacement, but I really didn’t want to think about that and pushed it as far to the back of my mind as possible.

I was glad that it had all taken place, not from any political point of view, as I really neither knew nor cared about that and never discovered whether what we did actually made a difference, but for the change it had brought about in my life. It had given me the opportunity to become me.

Eventually, when I could see the island no more, I went to join the others, as there wasn’t really anything else to do. Within minutes of going below deck, sweat was pouring off me, now I just wanted to get back home as quickly as possible.