A New World Begins

Popping smoke

One of the benefits of living on the patch is that after a cadet weekend I can usually manage to blag a lift home from either one of the instructors or, more often, one of the marines that usually gets to help out the cadet force at the weekend. Usually someone who has been ‘volunteered’ by the RSM. RSMs can read minds. They just know when someone wants to ‘help out’ with the cadets instead of having a weekend leave pass. It’s a skill that goes hand in hand with spotting when somebody is up to something they shouldn’t be, but not obviously enough that you can actually charge them with something definite like ‘treading on ‘er Majesty’s grass.’ Nathan had that mind reading skill developing quite nicely. Too bloody nicely at times.

It’s only about two and a half miles from the Cadet Training Centre to my house, so normally, even with a bergen, I’d yomp it back home in about thirty minutes. That’s usually faster than waiting for the bus, of which there are virtually none on a Sunday evening, and even fewer where the driver actually doesn’t whine like a turbofan if you try and sit down on one of his precious clean seats. You can’t fight a war, even a pretendy cadet war, without picking up a bit of mud.

Anyway, this weekend, I was lucky. Mandy’s dad, Major Scott, had actually come out to give a hand on our Recce Troop training cadre with a slack handful of marines to assist the usual cadet instructor staff. He offered me a lift back with them in their Land Rover. Major Scott was sat up front with his Company Sergeant Major and I was in the back with two Snobs and everybody’s kit. Everybody very deliberately wasn’t mentioning that Major Scott and the CSM both had a very orange tinge to them.

“Right, Craig,” said Major Scott, “We’re just coming up to your house now. Absolutely no traffic about so we’ll go for it. Lads, get ready with the door when I hit the brakes. Three, two, one…. JETTISON!”

On the command, one of the marines kicked the rear door open, I grabbed my bergen, raised it up in in front of me and hugged it like a like a big cushion then flew out into the road as the second marine gave me a big shove. Actually, it could have been a kick. As the bergen hit the tarmac beneath me like a big shock absorber, I released and rolled off, spreading my weight as wide as I could, and then sprang to my feet but kept low in a half crouch, grabbed the bergen by its haul strap and snapped smartly onto our front lawn.

“Oh, hi mom. Didn’t see you there behind the hedge.”

“Clearly…”

Mom didn’t say anything more, just glared at the Land Rover which had by now drawn up to a complete stop a few yards down the road. Major Scott stuck his head out through the window and laughed as the two marines in the back quickly closed the door and tried to burrow under the mound of cam nets and gonk bags. Taking on half the Iraqi army is no issue, but, well, a quiet word from my mum is not something to be relished. Especially if she is wielding a pair of pruning shears.

I struggled to my feet and walked over to the Rover.

“I’m fine mom, see, nothing broken. We were just practicing a covert heli-insertion. Thanks for the lift home, guys, that’s saved me a long walk.” I slapped the rear shell of the Rover hard, then added, “See you later, Jaffa.” Major Scott didn’t spare the horses in getting out of there…

“What’s for scran, mom?” I asked as nonchalantly as possible, picking up my bergen. “I could eat a scabby horse…”

Mom hadn’t done with the glaring bit yet.

“Before you go anywhere, Craig, get out of those clothes. What have you been doing? Rolling in mud? Go through the garage and use the back door into the kitchen, not through the lounge. Dump everything in the washing machine on your way. Leave your boots on the back step too, don’t dare go in the house with them on. Sometimes…”

She never does clarify that ‘Sometimes’ bit. just leaves it hanging there in the air.

“And get a bath before you do anything else…”

“Yes, mom.”

I grabbed the yard brush and scrubbed most of the mud from my boots, then stuffed them with newspapers and put them on the work counter in the garage to dry out for a while. I need to get them dry, cleaned up and then gleaming ready for drill night on Wednesday. After that, I emptied all my pockets, stripped down to my boxer shorts and then put my combat jacket, shirt and trousers on the patio and hosed them down before scooping them up and chucking them in the washing machine. Mom went spare when I just put my cabbage patch kit in the washer once and all the mud and leaves clogged the filters and a tiny bit of twig jammed the pump.

* * *

Nothing helps you thaw out after a weekend trogging round the Ulu better than a long soapy bath in water so hot that you have to lower yourself into it, inch by scalding inch, gritting your teeth ready for the moment the water hits your nads. By the time I climbed out again almost an hour later I was as red as a lobster and feeling almost human again. Even better still, I could smell roast chicken cooking downstairs. As I reached my bedroom to get dressed, I spotted that my phobile was flashing on the bedside table. I’d missed a call from Mandy about twenty minutes before. I hit quick dial.

Craig:Hi Mandy, I think I missed a call from you.

Mandy: Hi Craig, or should that be Baby Groot? What were you playing at when I saw dad drop you off earlier? You looked like a shrub being thrown out the back off the Rover...

Craig: I’m Groot…

Mandy:And why is my dad orange? He got home himself half an hour ago after returning the Landy to the MT Section and he’s definitely orange. He’s being very mysterious about it, wouldn’t say anything other than ‘ask that little runt over the street.

Craig:I’m Groot…

Mandy: Craig!

Craig:I’m Groot…

Mandy:One more ‘Groot’ and I’ll come over there with a chainsaw…

Craig:Sorry, Manders…

Mandy:You really are full of yourself tonight, aren’t you?

Craig:I’m Groo…

Mandy: One last chance, Craig, what happened to dad?

Craig:Sorry Mandy, what happens on camp, stays on camp…

Mandy:Right, looks like I’ll have to beat it out of you on the way to school tomorrow morning.

Craig:Yeah, looks like it.

Mandy:See you at ten to eight.

Craig:Sure, see you then. And Mandy…

Mandy:Yes?

Craig:Say ‘Hi’ to your satsuma dad for me…

I’d barely had time to put my phobile down and walk over to my wardrobe to get something to wear for dinner – the chicken was smelling great and I knew mum would soon be shouting me - when it started to bleep. This time the bleep was for a text message arriving.

* * *

An hour after the end of their breakfast on Sunday morning, Noah, Shane and Travis emerged from Travis’s house and walked over to the Pilatus aircraft that had been wheeled out of the hangar ready to fly them back to Pittsburgh. Will, of course, had already been with the aircraft for almost half an hour, helping Kimimela do the pre-flight checks and walk-around. He was now busy in the co-pilot’s seat assisting with uploading the digital flight plan both to the aircraft’s own central computer and, via the internet, to Air Traffic Control’s systems.

“Morning, Kimimela,” laughed Travis, “How’s the rookie coming along? Time to kick him off the branch yet and see if he can fly?”

Will frowned but Kimimela just smiled. “I think he’d make a good pilot, Travis. He was very useful planning the flight routes for the survey trip we did the other day, and helped with integrating the new sensor system’s data recording with the onboard GPS unit to correlate the flight path and survey route more effectively.”

Will grew an inch or two taller in his seat as the guys loaded their bags through the rear cargo door ready for Travis or Kimimela to stow in the rear compartment and secure them with a cargo net. The two rearmost seats and the side facing sofa had now been removed, leaving just the four big armchair seats in place in the forward cabin. The rear of the cabin was now occupied by the survey equipment and cameras that faced down over glazed hatches in the floor.

“Just because I’m here in the co-pilot seat uploading the flight path doesn’t mean I have to stay here for the flight,” Will called to them as they gathered around the forward door ready to board. “If you like, and Kimimela doesn’t mind of course, one of you could sit up front for the flight back.”

Travis, Noah and Shane all exchanged glances.

“No, Will, you’re good,” they said, “We don’t mind being in the back. You can stay up front.” It was the answer they all knew Will was hoping for.

Mr and Mrs Larson, and Travis’s two sisters, Ella-Marie and Leila, were now gathering near the forward door ready to say good-bye to them. Shane was the first to step up to them.

“Thank you for inviting us, Mr and Mrs Larson. Not just for the plane flights. I mean that was amazing of you too, but just letting us come here was good enough. I loved it. It’s a long time since I had a nice Thanksgiving. I’m always going to remember this.”

“That’s no problem, Shane,” said Mr Larson, holding out his hand to Shane. “It’s been a real pleasure to meet you and it’s great to know Travis has such good friends. Enjoy your trip back and remember, you’ll always be welcome here.”

Mr Larson turned and smiled as Shane climbed up the steps into the Pilatus. “No, don’t get out, Will, stay right where you are. It’s been good to have you with us and thanks for the help in synchronising the time clocks on the navigation and survey systems. Have a good flight back.”

“Thank you, Mr Larson, I will,” said Will. “And you too, Mrs Larson, the food was amazing on Thanksgiving.”

Travis gave both his parents a hug and then turned to board the aircraft as Kimimela signalled to either board or step back and stand clear as she readied the engine for starting.

“Buckle up, Shane,” said Travis as he did a quick check to see their bags were properly stowed and then jumped into the seat opposite Shane. “Where’s Noah, what’s he doing? He needs to get aboard.”

Shane, Travis, Kimimela and Will all glanced out of the doorway in time to see Noah, wearing his new jeans, cowboy boats and red & black checked shirt, say something to Mr and Mrs Larson then turn to Ella-Marie. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, then leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. Ella-Marie didn’t pull away. Noah smiled and whatever he said was drowned out onboard the aircraft as Kimimela pressed the engine ‘start’ button. As the turbine began to whine and the propellor flicked over a few times, Noah turned and hurried towards the aircraft, pausing as he reached the top of the steps to take a last look back towards Ella-Marie. As Noah sat down, Mr Larson stepped up and closed the door behind him.

As Noah fastened the seatbelt he looked up, suddenly conscious of Shane, Travis and Will all staring at him.

“What, guys?” he said innocently.

Kimimela smiled to herself then turned to Will. “Come on, First Officer, time to concentrate. Have you got the frequency listings ready for me? We need to inform Rapid City and Ellsworth Advisory we’re taking off; we don’t want them getting all surprised when we pop up out of nowhere on their radar.”

* * *

A few minutes later they were airborne and, after circling the house so everyone could take a last look and wave to the Larsons on the ground, Kimimela started to climb and set a course over the Great Plains towards Chicago. She’d let Will make the call to Rapid City and nodded approvingly as he very professionally gave their call sign and requested permission to join the traffic and execute their flight plan. As they climbed higher and the farm began to recede into the distance, Will flicked on the intercom and made an announcement.

“This is your First Officer speaking. Welcome aboard call sign Ox-cart. We’ll shortly be reaching our cruising altitude and commencing our first leg towards Sioux City, then routing just north of Chicago and across Lake Michigan before heading towards Pittsburgh. We’re expecting a tail wind to help us along and so should be landing in about three hours’ time. You’re now free to unbuckle your safety belts.”

As Noah and Shane unclipped their belts and stowed the loose ends, Travis quickly flipped out the tables that lifted into position between the seats then jumped up and headed back to the galley cabinet and switched on the coffee percolator. Shane glanced across at Noah as he opened his sketch book and began to draw. Before he’d made more than half a dozen deft strokes of his pencil Shane could tell it was a drawing of Ella-Marie.

Travis had found some Danish pastries stowed in the galley and was soon handing them out along with cups of coffee. Shane had taken only one bite when there was beep from his jacket pocket, hanging up by the side of his seat.

“It’s my message client, on my phone” he said. “It means somebody I know has just come online. Which basically means it’s Kyle, his parents or Amelia.”

Travis and Noah were looking at him still. “It’s okay, isn’t it Kimimela,” said Will, “He can look and see who it is, even call them.”

Kimimela nodded. “Yes, that’s no problem, Shane.”

“It just means someone is online,” said Shane. “Not that they have messaged me or sent a text. That gives a different tone.”

Shane took his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen.

“Oh, it’s Craig that’s just showed online. Yes, that makes sense. He always used to switch on and call his dad on Sunday evenings.”

“It’s the middle of Sunday morning, dingbat,” said Travis.

“Not in England, Travis,” said Will from the front, “It could be evening there. Craig’s hours ahead of our time zone, and then there’s mountain time to add on, and maybe a summer time difference too. Dingbat. We should call him. Dial him, Shane.”

Shane hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay, but I’ll send a text first to check it’s okay to call. He might be busy or something.”

* * *

Shane: Hi Craig, thanks for letting me call. I thought I’d best text first.

Craig: That’s okay Shane, it’s always good to hear you. Where are you though? You sound like there’s some noise in the background.

Shane: Oh, yes. There is some noise. It’s the propellor. I’ve got you on speaker phone. I’m on Travis’s plane. Noah and Will are here with me, and Kimimela, our pilot. Will’s up front helping her. So, it’s mainly me and Noah and Travis. We’re flying back to college after our holiday.

Craig: That’s amazing. So, you’re actually up in the air?

Kimimela:Excuse me for butting in – I’m Kimimela by the way, Craig – but if Shane pairs his phone with the guest Bluetooth channel, Will can put you over the intercom and the sound and call quality will be better. It’ll take the video signal too if you want to switch your camera on for Facetime, Shane.

Shane: Err, just a minute, Craig, let me figure this out…

Craig: Okay…

Will: I’m on it. Shane, just tap ‘accept’ now the icon is popping up. See it?

Shane: Tapped it, Will.

Craig: Hey, I can see you, Shane!

Shane: Let me swing the camera round, then you’ll see Travis and Noah too, over there look, then there’s Will and Kimimela ahead of us up in the driving seats.

Will: Flight deck, Shane, not driving seats.

Craig: It used to be called the cockpit guys, though I guess with lady pilots maybe they should name it the box office now.

Kimimela: Hey, don’t forget you’re on intercom, Craig, I can hear every word you say…

Craig: Ooops, sorry.

Kimimela: No problem, Craig. Nice accent.

Craig:I don’t have an accent! Hey, why are you all laughing?

Travis: You definitely have an accent, Deefer!

Craig: Hi Travis!

Shane: Have you been swimming, Craig? Your hair looks wet

Craig: No, just fresh out of the bath Shane. I was swimming last night though. Across a river. I was with the cadets. We were learning recce tactics. I had to lead a small team to sneak up on an enemy position, count them and their equipment, then sneak away unseen.

Shane: Sounds good. I think we learn stuff like that later this year.

Craig: It was ace last night. Some real marines were acting as enemy for us, they set up a camp near a bend in the river having their food so we could observe them. I sent my three guys forward to the edge of the opposite bank of the river with instructions to make a tiny bit of noise as a distraction. Then I swam across the river up stream and crawled into the enemy camp. One of my dad’s friends was there but he didn’t see me. I crept under their Land Rover and put a smoke grenade under the seat with the pin attached to some string tied to the prop shaft. Then I bugged out. When we got back to base I reported we had infiltrated the enemy camp but no-one believed us.

Shane: That’s a shame, especially if you crawled right into it.

Craig: We got plenty of proof in the morning. The marines jumped in their Land Rover to come back to base, the string wound tight round the prop shaft and pulled the pin out of the smoke grenade as they started driving, and they all got engulfed in fluorescent orange smoke. They had to jump out of the Rover and wait a few minutes for it to clear. Everybody on the training ground saw. Apparently Major Scott said if he got his hands on me he’d rip my head off and shit down the hole… He saw the funny side of it later though. Even gave me a lift home.

Travis: We definitely want to do that in our military training. Nathan is trying to keep us ahead. He thinks he might manage to get it fixed so we can go spend a weekend with the National Guard. Noah and Will already managed to go with an artillery unit of the National Guard a few weeks back.

Noah: We got shown how to climb down from a helicopter on a rope, then call in a fire mission as observers. We’re going to do that on Parents’ Day at year end if Nat can fix it. Only with blanks though.

Will:Kimimela, can I switch the survey camera on and let Craig see where we are flying? We can link it through the iPad.

Kimimela:Sure, Will.

Travis: Stand by, Craig, First Officer Will is up to something. He’ll be at the CIA next tasking their spy satellites.

Will: It’s the NRO that have the satellites, Travis. Craig, see that system behind Travis’s seat? The rack mount with the computers and stuff? It’s a survey system linked to some sensors and cameras that look down under the plane. I was helping with it for a few flights while Travis and Shane were just out throwing tomahawks and Noah was chasing Ella-Marie.

Craig: We got shown how to use aerial photos in cadets for working out patrol routes and spotting the enemy. Dead useful. Why do you need it in your plane though, Travis? For spotting outlaw gangs getting ready to raid the farm? And Noah, who is Ella-Marie?

Travis: Ella-Marie is my sister, Craig,Noah and her spent a lot of the holiday together. And we use the survey kit for monitoring crops and scheduling irrigation and…

Will:Shush, Travis, imagery coming online now. Shane, hit the ‘share’ icon and put it on the feed to Craig.

Shane:Yes, Sir!

Craig:That’s impressive! Real live video imagery! Is that the ground right under you? It’s just like I am there in the plane with you looking out the windows. Can you do stills too?

Will: It sure can. Multi-spectral too. Infra-red, ultra-violet. Some crop diseases show up in infra-red long before you can spot them by eye. And water too.

Craig:If you fly back near the college, you should take some images of the grounds and the woods out back where you do the military training. I can show you how to interpret them, work out how you can move around them unseen.

Travis: Hey, that’s an idea…

Craig:Look guys, I need to go now, mom is just serving our dinner up downstairs. It’s good to see you all again. Noah, don’t let Travis come too near you with his pen knife if you like his sister!

Shane:Okay, bye for now Craig. It was nice to talk to you too.

* * *

As Will disconnected the camera’s video feed to Shane’s phone, thoughts could be seen running through his head. Similar thoughts were also running around the rear of the cabin.

“Kimimela,” asked Travis, “When we get to Pittsburgh, is it just possible we might be able to…”

Kimimela was smiling and interrupted him before he could finish the sentence. “Make a survey pass over the college? Well, it would take a lot of work. The First Officer would need to check our fuel state, look at the air charts to see if we run the risk of passing through any airspace restrictions, contact the tower at Pittsburgh International, obtain routing permissions, re-file an amended flight plan…”

Will was smiling. “I’m on it, Kimimela.”