Overwatch

So, I hit the M2 and headed to the north coast. I sat on the sand at Portrush and realised that Jean was right. I decided that I had to get a permanent job, reduce my dependence on the U.D.R. and eventually get out of the army; I'd done more than my share. I also wanted Jean to go back to normal hours so we could start our family. Her timing was cute. That long lie-in had a lot of influence on my thinking. I got some fish and chips and a coke, before getting back on the bike and heading home.

Overwatch Ch 4

My timing, obviously, wasn't as good as Jean's. When I got home, there was a note telling me that she wasn't hanging around, waiting for some petulant brat, and had gone to her mother's. I phoned Jean's parent's house and she answered the phone. I apologised for storming off, and told her what I had done, and the conclusions I had come to. I asked her to come home and she did. We talked, I made all the promises that you do under those circumstances, and we tumbled into bed together.

Unlike that morning we took our time and made love gently, exploring each other, and relearning the things that had brought us together. Sunday, we got up and went to church together for the first time for a while. We came home, had lunch, and, that afternoon, Jean proposed a Sunday drive down the Ards peninsula. We had a beautiful day together, ice cream in Bangor, we drove down through Groomsport, Donaghadee, Millisle, to Ballywalter, where we had fish and chips and walked on the beach, and then we continued down the peninsula through Portavogie and Cloghy then across to Portaferry, then north, along the loughshore, to Newtownards and home. That night was another of love.

On Monday, Jean left for work and I headed into town to the employment exchange to start looking for permanent work. I picked up a few prospects and arranged some interviews. I headed home to get ready for duty. I was going to get tea ready for Jean and me but she phoned to say she was going to be late and she would see me when I came in from duty. That night however was the start of an upsurge in terrorist activity. Int knew nothing of it, at least our battalion Int didn't.

There was a series of bomb warnings that spread us thin across our patch and we were on cordons until the bomb disposal teams had cleared all the suspect devices. Only one out of every six was a real bomb. Lots of people were out of their houses in church and community halls, or with relatives, until they were cleared. This had become commonplace, and for lots of people it was almost routine, so they had their own evacuation plans in place.

I didn't get home until seven in the morning. Jean was really anxious by this time. She hadn't really settled all night. She gave me breakfast, I reassured her that I was O.K. and she left for work. I had an interview at ten and another at two. I was absolutely wiped out, but was determined to take charge of my future. Needless to say I didn't star in the interviews. When prospective employers saw the state I was in, I had to explain why I was so tired. I had chosen companies that were likely to be sympathetic to the security forces but they didn't want employees turning up as tired as I was, and making mistakes or causing accidents. This didn't do my morale any good and when Jean got home she was disappointed.

The trouble was that the upsurge of violence continued, and one of the business' I had an interview with was firebombed. Another was out on a bomb scare when my interview was scheduled, and two others decided to hold back on recruiting because of the uncertainty. I kept on applying for more jobs but with no success. I was getting pretty down. The political parties were trying to get things calmed down so Jean was out late quite a few nights.

Then we were called-out. This was like reservists being called up for war but we were still allowed to rotate duties so guys could keep going into work. That meant that unemployed men like me were expected to take on a bit more of the patrolling to cover for them. It was usually a short-term thing until they could bring in reinforcements from G.B. and get them briefed up. We could deploy teams within an hour and buy time. Once the spearhead was deployed we would return to normal duties.

We were the most cost effective reserve ever. The army only paid us when we were on duty and when the emergency was over we went back to normal life, but it messed with sleep patterns and family life. Jean and I saw each other occasionally but not regularly. We started to argue and blame each other. Really no one was doing anything wrong; we were just tired and stressed. Both of us were targets, me, because I was a soldier, Jean, because she was working with a politician. So both of us were watching for attacks on ourselves and worrying about the other.

Unusually, this call-out lasted a month. The terrorist upsurge was widespread, and even with Regular Army reinforcements we remained called-out. I was almost a full-time soldier. I was putting in 16-hour patrols and rotating onto 24-hour guard duties so I could get some sleep. Eventually the situation stabilised and we reverted to normal duties. I knew I was just a number being used. I needed to get a normal life.

Declan, my former tutor at the Tech, sent me a letter. He asked me to call in to his office, as he had an enquiry that he thought would suit me. I phoned him. He told me one of his mates in Northern Ireland Railways had told him they would be looking for engineering staff in the next few months. I got on the bike and went to see him. The railways were planning a major update of the rail system and there were opportunities in civil, electrical, and rolling stock engineering. He knew I had a good grasp of all the principles and that I tinkered with bikes and cars. So he recommended me to N.I.R.

I was called for interview the following Tuesday. I figured I had carried more than my share during the call-out, so, this time, I made sure I wasn't on duty the night before. Jean gave me a peck on the cheek and wished me good luck as she left for work. I tidied the breakfast things, got ready for the interview and left the flat.

I went through a pretty severe grilling. In particular they wanted to know which division I thought I was best suited to. Trouble was, I didn't really know enough to answer that. So I said so. Strangely, they seemed pleased with that answer. They asked if I would be prepared to go back to college on a part-time basis. I asked who would pay the fees. They said that would be covered by N.I.R. if they got the right person. I wasn't all that long out of Tech. so I still had the mind-set required for study.

I realised the combination of study and work experience would be a great opportunity. I said what I was thinking. It turned out that they were considering a long-term plan for the railways. This called for someone to train up as a planner and co-ordinator for the rail infrastructure. I must have said the right things, because I was offered a position there and then. I would start in two months time and I would be studying for a degree in engineering management, at the new Polytechnic, when the term started in late September. ME! A DEGREE!

I went home that night like a dog with two dicks. I couldn't wait to tell Jean the news. I would keep the U.D.R. on for the next four months, until I started the Poly, and then Jean and I could move on with our lives. I started to make dinner for us, only to receive a phone call from her telling me she wouldn't be home till late. I tried to tell her I had good news but she seemed distracted. I felt singularly discumchuffed about that. We had been trying to get to the position where I could leave the army and we could plan a future. I'd finally got something with a real future and scope for promotion and she couldn't give a fuck. I got drunk and went to bed.

I didn't waken when Jean came in, and I didn't waken when she went out to work the next morning. When I did wake, with an enormous hangover, I had a large glass of water and went for my run. I came back to the house feeling much better. This has always been my way of dealing with a hangover. Get out and get the blood pumping and get the oxygen round the system. I got a shower and had a good Ulster fry for breakfast.

Although I was ready for anything, I was still pretty miffed at the way Jean had cut me dead on the phone. I had nothing on until I had to report for duty that night, so I tidied the house, washed some clothes and did a bit of ironing. Yeah, I know it sounds as if I'm under the thumb but it's just another of those things the army taught me. Look after your kit and your living space. Also, it gave Jean and me time together on those increasingly rare occasions when we were both at home together. I didn't really pursue that thought.

I was on early patrols that night. On duty nights the platoons would take it in rotation to bring a team in early, to patrol the base as everyone else reported for duty. The idea was to watch for any watchers and deter attacks. We didn't do it all the time, and we don't know if we prevented any watchers gathering int, but the base was never attacked during that time frame. Then we got a re-brief and joined the company patrol plan. The early patrol was supposed to be relieved first but if you got caught up in a bomb clearance or a cordon.... tough.

You guessed it, that night my team got caught to provide part of a cordon round a suspect vehicle. Life fucking sucks at times. The bomb disposal teams were all deployed and our suspect was the lowest priority. The A.T.O. (Ammunitions Technical Officer i.e. bomb disposal) finally got to us a 3.00 in the morning and took all of ten minutes to declare it a hoax. I was on the dole patrols next morning so I kipped in the back of the guardroom. The guard woke me for breakfast and I was on patrol again by 7.00a.m. Fortunately it was an uneventful day 'cos I was fucking chin strapped.

Before we were stood down the Sergeant Major was looking for volunteers for a weekend deployment, out of area, in a couple of weeks time. These came up from time to time requiring different levels of commitment. Sometimes it would be a company surge op, or it might be a multiple, (two or three teams) just to thicken another company or to cover a small op.

They got us out of Belfast and into the uhlu for rural patrolling. They were usually good fun because it was a different area, different type of op, always a bit of a challenge, and always a chance that some of the PIRA ASUs (active service units) might mount an op against us. (Rural PIRA were more prepared to exchange fire, rather than shoot and scoot, like Belfast PIRA. They were very good at laying their ambush, and often would use one or two machine guns, so it was a real good test of our skills.)

Loads of guys wouldn't do them because they weren't confident about rural ops, but to me, they were a chance to practise other skills. This one was being offered to the dole patrols because they wanted two teams deployed early on Friday to cover the company approach. Same sort of task as our early patrols. The rest of the company would deploy on Friday night and we would be relieved on Sunday afternoon. I enjoyed the challenge of these out of area tasks, so I jumped at it. So did the rest of the guys.

I got home and Jean wasn't there. I was so knackered that I fell asleep on the sofa. I woke up the next morning with a blanket over me, and no sign of Jean. Well, it was 10.00 in the morning. She'd gone to work. I was stiff as fuck, so I did a few warm-up exercises before my run.

Freshly showered an hour later, I sat down to breakfast, although it was nearer lunchtime than breakfast-time. This would be the first clear weekend I'd had for about six weeks. I intended to make the most of it with Jean. I blitzed the flat from top to bottom, vacuuming, dusting, polishing, the lot. I emptied the linen basket, washed all the clothes, got them out to air, and then I started preparing the evening meal.

Jean phoned about 3.30. She told me to switch on the emersion heater, as she would be home at 4.00 for a shower. I thought we were going to get an early start to the weekend, and started to tell her my news.

"I've no time," she said, "I've to get ready for a dinner with Windy. The reception starts at 7.00." That was me told.

She came in like a hurricane at a quarter past four, barely acknowledging me, and rushed to the shower. I brought her coffee and a ham sandwich, while she dried her hair. As she was applying her make-up I sat on the bed.

"Long time no-see," I started.

"Well it's not my fault."

"I was only...."

"Yes, you're always 'only', aren't you?" she sneered.

"Look, I'm off this weekend...."

"Oh! I'm so privileged. So I have to drop everything because you have the weekend off?"

"I didn't say anything of the sort."

"Just as bloody well."

"I got the job and I'm going to the Poly to do a degree."

"About time you got off your backside."

"Hang on; I've always pulled my fuckin' weight! When I was at college I worked and brought in just as much as you and I haven't taken the dole. Any time I could, I took on the engineering jobs, and worked part time as well. If I couldn't get a contract I took every extra duty I could."

"Look at the mess of this room you might at least tidy up when you're at home rather than leave it to me at the weekends, and the bathroom is a mess as well. You're keeping me back and now I suppose I'm going to have to tidy the place before I go out. I'm going to be late."

I sat there doing a good impression of a goldfish.

"Oh, close your mouth. You look like a moron sitting there."

I flipped. "Just what the fuck do you fuckin' mean by that? This place was like a new fuckin' pin till you came in." I pointed to the pile of clothes on the floor. "That's the pile of shite you've just taken off and left at your fuckin' arse...."

"Well you won't be fucking much this weekend with that attitude, Mister."

That rocked me. Jean hardly ever swears, I'm the one with little linguistic control.

"Look...."

"Look nothing. I've to pick Michael up, and you're making me late."

She left like she arrived. I was stunned. She never called Windy by his first name before... at least, not after the first month she worked for him. That all seemed to have come out of the blue.

Overwatch Ch 5

I started to tidy up again. "Fuckit!" I flung the clothes back onto the floor. I bounced back onto the bed and cracked my skull off the bed frame. Somehow I always manage to injure myself when I get in a temper. Not that it was much of an injury, but when you're feeling a deep sense of righteous indignation you tend to magnify minor sleights, don't you?

I didn't understand what was going on. I had really missed being with the love of my life. I had finally got a future and suddenly she had just comprehensively pissed on my chips. As I lay and brooded, the past few weeks caught up with me again, and I dozed off, then drifted into a very deep sleep.

I woke at again about nine that same evening. I did not feel particularly rested. There was something lurking in the back of my mind, flitting through the shadows, like a night patrol using all available cover. Somehow, I knew I didn't want to disturb that thought, so I started to tidy up again. By the time I was finished I wondered about going for another run, or going down to the J.R.C. to see the lads. I figured it was too late for a run. It would just get the blood pumping and I wouldn't be able to sleep. Going down to the bar, I'd probably end up at some party somewhere, and roll home tomorrow morning, stinking of stale drink, and probably vomit. I didn't think that would help, either. So I made myself some tea, ate the ham sandwich that Jean had ignored, and watched the T.V., feeling sorry for myself. Friday night T.V. is shite. I went to bed.

I woke at 8.00 the next morning. Jean was beside me in bed, out for the count. I decided to apply the old adage and let sleeping dogs lie. Or in this case a sleeping bitch. I got my running gear, changed in the bathroom and went for a run. I hadn't really been all that consistent lately so I made it a distance run. Ten miles, target time, one hour. I managed one hour ten. I cooled down and finished with press-ups sit-ups and stretches. I went in quietly and slipped into the shower, then into the bedroom and got some fresh clothes. Jean was still sleeping so I let her be, and prepped breakfast...for one.

She still hadn't surfaced by the time I had finished so I did the dishes and headed out to the yard behind the shops. I kept the bike and the van there to make it difficult for terrorists to attach booby traps. Nevertheless, I checked underneath the van before I started work on it. I also checked round the bike too. I did a routine service on the van, then the bike. Then I washed them. Then I made some coffee. Then I checked on Jean. She was gone. Bitch hadn't even left a note. If that's how she wanted to play it, that was fine by me.

I went down to the J.R.C. to watch the match. There'd be some of the mates there and a bit of crack. It was a half hour walk there. Our J.R.C. was a lot more relaxed than the NAAFI so the redcoats liked to use it. Since there was a cup match on there were quite a few troops from the attached regiments in, and the place was pretty lively. The redcoats got to know pretty quick that they were welcome as long as they behaved. Our J.R.C. was somewhere to bring our wives and girlfriends, (but not at the same time!), so nobody stepped out of line. We also permitted senior NCOs and officers in for things like this. Hey, the profits went to us.

The match had finished and I was on my third pint and fourth game of pool when Jean arrived.

"I thought I might find you here."

I knew from her tone that it was time to get her out; otherwise I would be barred for a while. Jean seemed to have other ideas and started towards a group of English SNCOs. I asked Dave, my pool partner, to give me a hand getting her out quietly. I took her by the arm and asked her to come with me but she twisted away. One of the English guys thought he was quite the gallant and told me to leave the lady alone. Dave told him Jean was my wife, and reminded him he was a guest in our mess.

"I'm a sergeant," he said. The bar went silent. His mate took him by the arm and reminded his friend that it was a Junior Ranks Club and if there was any bother it was him who would go down. Technically he needed an invitation from one of us and permission from his Regimental Sergeant Major and ours to be there. Good sense prevailed and he apologised. I nodded to Dave who smoothed things over. Jean realised she wasn't going to get a result, so I was able to get her out. As we left I heard Dave sharing a joke with the Brits and the bar returning to business as normal.

We got into her car and headed home in silence. Jean was, of course, driving, as I was over the drink drive limit. We parked up in Jean's parking space, went into the flat, and she ripped into me. To cut it short I was accused of ignoring her because I went out without wakening her. I explained I went for a run, came back, she was still asleep and went out the back and was working on the van and bike. When I came in, she was up and away and hadn't left me a note. She told me I should have left her a note. I told her all she had to do was look out the bedroom or kitchen window and she'd have seen me. Then I realised she had opened the bedroom curtains before she left and must have seen me. So I threw that in her face, and ripped right back, telling her she was manufacturing an argument. The rest of the night was all video and no audio.

Sunday morning, we lay late. I tried to mend fences, but Jean seemed pre-occupied. I put my arm round her and tried to curl into her. She pushed my arm off, got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. It looked like this day was going to be a repeat of the previous night. I got up to make breakfast. Jean came up behind me in the kitchen and put her arms round my waist. She hugged close and said, "I'm sorry for all that. I'm just tired and stressed. I missed you so much."