"Энди Макнаб. Немедленная операция (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

only to the local town. To the lads in Folkestone we were a nuisance because
we had money. You could show a girl a really good time on three quid a week.
I met a girl called Christine at the Folkestone Rotunda, and we started to
see each other as often as we could.
I really started to enjoy it all. I'd finally got to grips with the
system of "bullshit baffles brains": just do what they say, even if you know
it's a bag of shit, and it keeps everybody happy. And the more I enjoyed it,
the more I didn't mind working at it, and the better I got.
The exercises started to get more and more intense.
We'd be out one or two nights a week, culminating in a two-week battle
camp where all the different phases of war were practiced, with live firing
attacks. Now, at last, I started to understand what I was doing. Before, I
had just dug a hole and sat in it. Now I knew why I was sitting in it.
Every eight weeks we had leave. I met up with my old mates in Peckham
when I went back one time, but there was a distinct change.
We'd drifted apart. Even after such a short length of time our
worldviews had changed.
All they were interested in was what I had been interested in when I
left: mincing around. I didn't feel superior-the other way around, if
anything. I thought I was missing out. They were talking about getting down
to Margate, but on Sunday I'd have my best dress uniform on, marching down
to the garrison church. Nonetheless, I couldn't wait to get to my battalion.
I got chosen to take one of the passing-out guards and received a
letter saying, "Congratulations on being presented with the Light Division
sword. Well done, and I really hope your career goes well."
I didn't have a clue what the Light Division sword was. I discovered
that each regiment had this award, presented to the most promising young
soldier. I also discovered that it meant a day's rehearsal where I had to
practice going up, shaking the hand, saluting, taking the sword, turning
around, and marching back off. At last the whole battalion had to get into
the gym for presentations by the colonel to all the different companies.
I thought the sword was marvelous and looked forward to seeing it
mounted on my bedroom wall. But as I left the podium, a sergeant took it off
me and gave me a pewter mug in exchange. The sword went back to the
regimental museum.
The passing-out parade was quite a big affair. My parents came down,
and my older brother and his family. It was quite strange because they'd
never been really that into it; Mum and Dad never even used to go to
parents' evenings at my school. In fact, it was the first time any of my
family had ever turned up to anything.
It really was the day I thought I'd become a soldier.
We wore I.J.L.B (infantry junior leaders battalion) cap badge and belt,
and as soon as we came off the passingout parade, we could put on our own
regimental kit, the Green jacket beret.
There was another little matter to be attended to. Our
beautifully hulled hobnail boots had to be returned to the stores,
apart from those of the guardsmen who were going to take them to their
battalion for ceremonial duties. So we all lined up and bashed them on the
pavement until the bull cracked like crazy paving. No other fucker was going
to get their hands on them and have it easier than we did.