sleeve of my shirt was stained a sticky brown where the Tali’s blood had soaked into it. I tugged at my cuff to get it away from my arm, to get the man off me. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed it before. I felt sick.
‘Jesus!’
I started to rip the thing off my back when Sergeant MacKenzie stuck his head through the flap.
‘No, not Jesus. Sergeant MacKenzie to you. But I like your thinking, Briggsy.’
All I wanted to do was get into the shower and scrub the blood off, but I knew there were no showers until just before evening scoff that night. So I was stuck with it. ‘Yes, Sergeant.’
I saw MacKenzie look down at my shirt, so I tried a pathetic joke to make myself feel better. ‘Better his blood than mine, eh, Sergeant?’
Sergeant MacKenzie didn’t miss a beat. ‘I’d say there’s still some debate on that … Right, listen in, you lot.’ He looked at each one of us in turn. ‘I want the whole platoon in the cookhouse now. Corporal Tokibaku, get this lot moving.’ He turned on his heel and was gone.
Flash gathered up John’s stash of blueys. ‘You got a cynical mind, Toki. They’re all from Julie, right enough. Well, aside from the stack from Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie, of course …’
Flash gently returned them to John’s kit bag. He didn’t want them all crumpled up for John’s wife, who would probably keep them for ever. ‘I never met Julie or the kids, but me and John were going to get our wives together after this. You know on holiday.’ He looked close to tears and could hardly get the destination out without his voice breaking. ‘Tenerife.’
The rest of us looked down, pretending we hadn’t noticed, and I got real busy with the bin liner. But the truth is we all felt the same. Flash knew it and made a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Si, throw those combats over.’
Flash held them up for all of us to see. ‘Look at the size of that waist. No wonder it was tough carrying all that lard onto the MERT heli, eh? Bet those doctors thought they’d never get airborne again!’
We all sniggered but it didn’t last long and we soon fell silent again. It was hot in the tent now as the sun was higher. Toki shoved the patrol pack back under John’s bed. ‘Come on, everyone. Let’s go!’
Chapter Three
We made our way though the four-inch-thick dust towards the cookhouse. I had to half close my eyes against the bright sun because, as usual, I’d left my sunglasses back in the tent.
We knew exactly why MacKenzie wanted all of us in the cookhouse. By the time we got there, the long trestle tables had already been pushed to one side, and the whole FOB – about seventy scruffy, sweaty soldiers – were standing around waiting for it to start. Toki grabbed four warm beers from the back of the room and handed one to each of us. Like everyone else, we didn’t open them, we just stood there holding a can in one hand.
Sergeant MacKenzie stepped forward to face us. His tanned face matched the colour of his totally bald head. He came straight to the point.
‘Right, listen in. Rifleman John Hammond is dead. But you lot are still alive. Look around you. Go on, look at each other.’
I looked at Si who stared me out, daring me to blink before he did. I stared straight back at him as MacKenzie continued. ‘Remember what we were told before we came out here. One in ten of us is going to be a casualty. So if we don’t stay switched on and keep our minds in gear, the next casualty could be the very lad you’re looking at now.’
I blinked on purpose and looked away. I wasn’t in the mood for Si’s stupid games.
Sergeant MacKenzie moved his head about, making eye contact with as many of us as he could. ‘It’s our job to look out for each other. And to remember John, your mate. Remember all of those who’ve died, because none of those pencil necks in the real world will. This time next year they’ll still be wetting themselves over Beckham’s new haircut, Jordan’s latest tit job and Jamie Oliver reinventing toast. No point being angry about it, that’s just the way it is. Even Iraq is a distant memory for them. It’s up to you to keep our guys’ memories