by David Gower
iced tea
The
nights in the Middle East are cold beneath clear sky. Two figures huddle as they
peer into the darkness of the desert. A sliver of Moon tonight giving a feeble
glow across an arid landscape. Desert may have romance and beauty but not from a
hole in the ground far from home. Not on Christmas Eve.
Frank ‘When I get out of this God forsaken lot I am
gonna use all this mob has taught me and make a telly series. Just like all them
other smug geezers. I will bite the tail off a scorpion, dip a biscuit made of
flour made from grain milled under me size 10 boots into a bottle of water
filtered from a muddy pool and then jump into the Land Rover back to me bleeding
5 star hotel.’
Nobby ‘Been a long day then? You are never happier
than when you are complaining. How long have I known you? If you stopped griping
we would think you was dead’. I have to sit in this OP all night with you. There
are people I would rather be in bed with right now than sitting with you in an
‘ole. Did you ever see that cartoon from the First World war? Some geezer with a
moustache called Ole Bill sitting in a shell hole. The caption was ‘if you knows
a better ‘ole go to it’’
Frank replies grudgingly. “You know what I mean.
Sitting here looking like a pair of Peeping Toms, hoping to God no one sees us
and breaks our cover. Ready for a firefight but the job is to slip away with
intel and no one know we was ‘ere’. Leaving not a sign. Only if we see Target 1
do we act otherwise. Join the Special Forces and be
invisible!’
Nobby whispers urgently ‘Quiet. If she’s is gonna
scream and shout all night all the women will be in that hut. The blokes will
keep to themselves until the kid pops out. Then they will either jump around
firing guns in the air if it’s a boy or commiserate with each other and wonder
what sin the father committed to deserve a girl. Poor
cow.’
Frank ‘How do you pass the time on observation when
you do not have the likes of me to brighten your day?”
Nobby “I think about the Meaning of Life. About what
I am gonna do with me pay and invent crosswords.”
Frank “Crosswords? Well, you never do!. How do you
do it?”
Nobby “I like the cryptic ones – you know they make
you think a bit. I used to know a bloke who did The Times ones every day in his
head on the train. I never believed he could do it but when I asked him he gave
me every answer and told me how he had worked it out.’
Frank “I never understood those cryptic ones. I can
manage the simple one in the Sun and the telly
magazines.’
Nobby “If you are gonna mix with the nobs and film
producers of this world you will need to ponce about with the Guardian
crossword. At least until you con Piers, Julian or Tarquin to send you and a
crew to some flash hotel when you have your scorpion for starters. They like
officer class, mate.’
Frank “So give us a lesson then. We got sod all else
to do but sit here freezing while she wails through the night.”
Nobby “Blimey, I thought I was the only Wise Man
round these parts tonight. Let me see if I can get you to use that blob you call
a brain’. Ready for your first clue? Remember these things work in about three
different ways. You have your anagrams where you mix letters in a word or phrase
to make another word. Let me think now. Here’s one ‘In a hurry on the gent’s lip
- 9 letters’.
Nobby “Think of how you might say in a hurry. Must
dash - puns so moustache sounds like must dash on a gent’s
lip”.
Frank groans.
Nobby “Or there’s anagrams where dogs might be turned
to gods’
Another groan from Frank
Nobby “Quotes from Shakespeare and his mates but I
never go there!”
Frank “Thanks be to God for
that!”
Nobby “Try this one. Sounds like a local alien at
Christmas, 8 letters”
Silence in the foxhole and they are unnoticed in the
camp below.
Nobby “Have I found a way to keep you quiet at last?
Another word for local might be native. An alien could be E.T. Put them together
at Christmas and you get Native ET, gettit? Nativity! Just like what’s going on
down there.”
Frank spits in disgust but then makes an urgent hand
gesture for silence.
Frank whispers; “The women have brought the baby out
and given it to one of the men. He’s in better light now. Bugger. It’s Target 1.
Orders are if we see Target 1 we take him out. What a birthday for the poor
little kiddy.”
Frank breathes out slowly ready to squeeze the rifle
trigger.
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