Field Commission 12

Evening of December 25, Parvana and I stand side by side at the sinks washing clothes. The air is blue, literally with smoke and figuratively with the language from the penny stakes poker games.
Ingratiating smile, she starts, "you never said who it was you cold cocked."
"That's right, I didn't."
"And you intend to leave it that way?"
"Look Parvana, some day you'll read about it in the paper. Or you won't. If you do, you won't need me to tell you. If you don't, you're better off not knowing."
"You sound exactly like those Brit officers."
"Why thank you, that's flattering."
She laughs, "he had a remarkably Russian sort of a look. How many Russians do we know?" She gasps, "now I know, face rings a bell, but you can trust me. Won't tell the others, get them all worried. Ever get the thought the whole go**am world, not just the army, is insane?"
"At least a six pack of times a day."
"So, your next guess, read of the future?"
"We're to be here til after New Years, just in case New Years Eve gets outa hand. New Years Eve, let's you and me stick like glue."
"You sense something?"
"Whatever happens, better off with friends than alone."
"All right, we'll do that."
I nod, "resta the week, I want everyone, and that includes me, to carry 3 extra drum clips."
"They'll hate you, the weight."
"Just do it."
"Ok, you is da boss. So, rather do this or elec tech or wholesaler?"
I don't hesitate one second, "this."
"Yeah, I hear you, live for real, instead of just vegetate."
A Pvt calls out, "I'm broke, either of ya wanna sit in?"
"Thanks anyhow," I reply, "I'm crapped out, need my beauty sleep."
"And do you need it! Desperately. Parvana, sit in?"
"Hell yes, don't need no beauty sleep, beautiful enough."
Everyone laughs.
Morning of December 26, we are at breakfast when the phone rings. I answer, "Black Watch Detachment."
A male Irish voice, educated, "are you the Lt in charge?"
"Yes."
"May I ask your assistance?"
"If I can."
"We have a court martial in process, the charge is knowingly attacking an American unit. I'd like your thoughts on this matter."
"I simply do not believe it was deliberate. Yes we were in US uniform, but it was way too dark to tell. Our entire contingent has opted for Brit helmets, better protection you know. And these throw a different silhouette than American. I would say the accused honestly took us for Brits."
"Is it true he left immediately upon finding out?"
"Absolutely, and very apologetic about it too."
"Thank you so much," click.
Reckon I just saved the world famous knee specialists at Belfast General from yet another repair job.
Parvana chuckles, "gotta hand it to you, a generous soul. Lotta officers woulda fried the guy."
"Wouldn't be honest, no way on earth that was deliberate." I raise my voice, "gang sorry to say, everyone hasta carry 3 extra clips."
Loud raucous complaints, in mega sailor vernacular.
"Shut your go**am ****ing faces," Parvana shouts loudly. Silence falls. She continues, "now who in ****ing hell got you out before the ****ing tanks?"
Sheepish looks.
She continues, "just bloody do it."
A Pvt, blushing, tells me, "sorry."
Lightly I punch her arm, "hey no prob. We all stick together, look out for each other."
Parvana sums up, "well we've seen the ****ing Ra splinter group, and the *** ****ing neoNazis. We still ain't seen the ****ing Unionists, they'll bloody well be feeling left out."
"Could be both sides," a Pvt says helpfully, "Official Ra truce ends at noon today."
Loud groans.