Alan Judd - A Breed of Heroes

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After university and Sandhurst, Charles Thoroughgood has now joined the Assault Commados and is on a four-month tour of duty in Armagh and Belfast. The thankless task facing him and his men — to patrol the tension-filled streets through weeks of boredom punctuated by bursts of horror — takes them through times of tragedy, madness, laughter and terror.
Alan Judd tells Thoroughgood’s tale with verve, compassion and humour. The result is an exceptionally fine novel which blends bitter human incident with army farce.

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Charles’s day had started well, in that he had been able to have a bath. The fried breakfast was hot for once and the tinned tomatoes were quite soft. The discovery of this article spoiled everything.

‘You’ve started with a bang,’ observed Tony Watch. ‘Surprised the PR people allowed it, let alone the CO.’

‘They weren’t asked,’ said Charles. ‘They don’t know anything about it.’

‘You took a chance, then.’

‘I wasn’t asked either.’

‘This bloke Beazely did it off his own bat?’ Tony whistled. ‘Shit’ll really hit the fan now. Better put your helmet on.’

When Charles reached his office the adjutant said, ‘The CO wants you.’

‘Reference the article?’

Colin nodded. ‘Not pleased. Someone let you down?’

‘Looks like it.’

The CO was the only person to have a room to himself, though Anthony Hamilton-Smith was rumoured to have one somewhere. When Charles entered the CO was sitting at his desk, writing. ‘You’ve been a bloody stupid officer,’ he said. He continued writing. Charles was trying to think of an appropriate reply when the CO stopped writing and looked up again. ‘Just had breakfast, have you?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Think yourself lucky you’re not on the boat home. If it weren’t for me you would be. I had my breakfast hours ago.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Don’t keep yes-sirring me, I’m telling you. Know where I’ve been since I had my breakfast?’

‘No, sir.’

‘I’ve been up at Headquarters, fighting for your life with the general. He wanted your guts on a plate. Know why?’

‘The article, sir.’

‘’Course you do. Unbelievably crass though the whole thing is, I couldn’t believe that you wouldn’t realise it yourself when you saw the thing in print. That’s how I saved you from being sacked, sent home in disgrace. I said you were new to the Army and to PR, that this was your first mistake and will definitely be your last. I stuck my neck out for you. Which is more than the Guards CO did for his PR officer. D’you know about that?’

‘No, sir.’

‘This man Beazely visited two units yesterday — us and the Guards. He obviously wrote his story out of what he gleaned from each. The Guards PR officer is on his way home at this instant. It’s thanks to me that you’re still here. What’ve you got to say for yourself?’

‘As far as I’m aware, sir, I didn’t —’

‘I know, I know, Edward Lumley’s almost as much to blame as you. But that’s not the point. You’re there to make sure he doesn’t shoot his mouth off. And that includes your own. As it is, you broke every PR rule in the book. You talked in general terms about the situation here, you emphasised personalities, you spouted all this rubbish about special selection — which will be believed, you know, despite denials, and could do enormous political damage — and you made the most elementary and crass security blunders. The information about that tunnel came from a high-grade Intelligence source that is now prejudiced by your foolish disclosures. I can see you weren’t responsible for the nonsense about the Guards battalion being equipped with special mining tools for digging us out of the debris, but that’s about all. The general’s furious, you know. He was told about all this by London at five o’clock this morning and he had me up there within an hour. You can thank God I’m a lenient man.’

Charles knew that none of the offending comments had come from him and he gave a truthful account of Beazely’s visit, but it sounded unconvincing even to his own ears. He was sure that Edward had not mentioned the tunnel to Beazely but could not account for how Beazely had known about it, nor for all the stuff about special selection. He did not feel it would be politic to call to his aid the fact that Beazely’s main interest had been in the screwing through the gate episode. Besides, he could not be certain that that might not appear in another edition. He was unable to offer the CO a more convincing explanation than that provided by the assumption of his guilt, and so was dismissed with further admonitions. ‘Frankly, I would have expected more from a university man,’ was the CO’s final, and rather surprising word.

Charles rang Beazely’s hotel several times that morning but was unable to get through to him. He left messages for Beazely to ring him, but nothing happened. Finally, late in the afternoon, he changed into civilian clothes and got the CO’s escort vehicle to take him to the hotel, having told the CO that he had an appointment with Beazely. When he got there he found Beazely in the bar, talking to a loud and drunken group of men who could have been either local journalists or local politicians. Beazely left them and came over to Charles. ‘Have a drink,’ he said.

‘No thanks.’

‘I suppose you’ve come about my little piece this morning?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Anything happen about it?’

‘I was very nearly sacked.’

‘Ah. I can explain, you know.’

‘Good.’

‘But please have a drink.’

They sat down. ‘Wasn’t my fault,’ said Beazely. ‘Wasn’t yours, of course. Wasn’t that other chap’s either, that Guards bloke. Though I didn’t go much on him, to be honest. Toffee-nosed, you know? Not like you.’

‘He was sacked. He’s on his way home.’

It was to Beazely’s credit that he seemed somewhat shaken by this. ‘Christ, they don’t waste much time in the Army, do they? Any good me going to see them or writing to the general or anything?’

‘The general will probably kill you.’

‘See what you mean.’ Beazely pushed his slipping spectacles back up on the bridge of his nose. ‘It was all the news editor’s fault really. Bit of a cock-up, to be honest, Charlie, from my point of view as well as yours. I mean, I’m not exactly persona grata with the Army now, am I? Not that I was before, I s’pose. I mean, they’ll still see me. They can’t not see me because of the rag I work for, can they?’

‘Just tell me where you got the information about the tunnel.’

‘The Officers’ Mess bar at Headquarters. They were all talking about it. I went up there after I’d seen you and the Guards bloke to talk to the PR desk. Fat lot of use they were. You see, I’d already sent this photograph of Edward along with a little write-up about what a good bloke he is because I’d thought of doing a big feature on your lot one day — with you in it — and I wanted them to keep all these little titbits as background. Well, in the meantime London had got this agency report about tunnels, and they’d come up asking me if I knew anything about it, which I didn’t until I went to the bar at Headquarters. Lot of loose talk there, Charlie. Always has been. A serious temptation to people like myself.’

‘To which you yielded.’

‘Yes and no. I reported what I’d heard, but I didn’t realise London were going for it in such a big way. I especially didn’t realise they’d link what I’d done about Edward with all the tunnel stuff. I mean, they were quite separate as far as I was concerned. That’s news editors for you. No souls, no tact, no sense, no scruples. Didn’t tell me what they were doing. First I knew of it was when I saw it this morning, just like you. Is your CO very angry?’

‘Demented.’

‘Oh Christ. I do all my work through the Army, as you know. If they make things difficult I’ll be joining that Guards bloke. Might not be such a bad thing, in a way.’ He mused for a few moments. ‘Would a bottle of whisky help?’

‘No, thanks.’

‘Not for you, for your CO. I could send him one.’

‘No.’ It occurred to Charles that this might be the opportunity to get rid of Beazely once and for all. ‘The CO has no tact and no scruples, just like your news editor. He’d probably kill you even quicker than the general. Best thing to do is lie low and wait for me to contact you.’ Beazely’s bloated face nodded mournfully. ‘The only way you might be able to clear your name is if you’re prepared to tell him what you’ve just told me — if he wants you to, that is.’

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