Military Vets

[Swoop]

RAF 1990-1994
No.1 Squadron, RAF Regiment
Recce section
LAC


And no, no story.  However.....this is a repost from another forum, LOOOOONG post from a fella I used to know who operated a wagtail team (dog handler, dog trained to find explosives and weapons) and his experience with the SAS, I think you might like it.

=====================================================================================


...pull up a sandbag, you ! yeah you there ! get that light swinging, sit down and I'll tell you a story about when I worked with...(looks over both shoulders furtively, leans forward conspiritally and in a hushed voice says)...THEM !

Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a green and boggy land not too far away when I was a stripling youth, I was the brainier half of a Wagtail team. As jobs went it was'nt too bad. Plenty fresh air, guns with real bullets, 50p a day danger money and sometimes we got to go to work in a choppper as we held apart the green,white and gold baddy tribe from the red,white and blue baddy tribe. Some days I could go out in 'mufti' and dressed in my plastic imitation Irvine flying jacket, brutus jeans, Derriboots with white welly socks and my riot helmet with the visor removed, I'd mount my ancient 250 Yam and head off to Lisburn for some hearts and mind action with the colleens that hung about Corkens or the like. Sometimes I'd head off for the Holdfast Disco at Castle D where the RE's had thoughtfully converted the stable next door into a Lurve Shack with blanket GS drapes and swamped mattresses from the SQMS.

It was during my time there that rumours persisted that THEY were there as well. No-one ever saw THEM. No-one had ever met THEM but the 'experts' reckoned you could tell one of THEM by the length of his hair, but, given that every squaddie there grew his hair long at the slightest excuse, you never knew whether it was actually one of THEM you had seen or just some civvy driver or other REMF. Still, the rumours persisted.

Now, one day, twas in the summer as I recall, we were out and about in a green,white and gold part of the land, spreading the peace and impartial goodwill message to the CivPop along with a section from the RHF, in shirt sleeve order, proudly displaying thier 'FOR GOD & ULSTER', RANGERS F.C.' & 'UVF,UDA,**** THE POPE AND THE IRA' tatoos for the delictation of the locals. Twas a shreckin' long, long day I can tell you and we were mightily glad to RTB that evening.

Anyway, no sooner had I kenneled and fed the oppo, blagged some tinnys from the choggi and settled down for an evening with Gloria and UTV, and the tannoy goes'
'Wagtail to the ops room, Wagtail to the ops room. That is all.'
B*****D !!! so off I trots.

'Evening sir, what've got for me ?'
'Ah right. They want you at so and so in an hour. QRF are waiting to take you. Oh, and they want you in civvies.'
'Civvies ? who wants me in civvies ?'
'How the **** should I know. No one tells me **** all, I'm only the Ops Officer FFS. Now b*gger orf.'

So 'orf' I b*ggered and got into my finest 'I'm not a squaddie, I'm one of you's' outfit and went to get the oppo.

Now, my oppo was one of the finest noses ever to graduate from Melton in the late 70's but he'd been a troubled youth. Abandoned by his parents when barely weeks old he'd ended up being drafted into the Pet Corp as an alternative to the dog pound and after four months basic he found himself on the mean streets of Derry. He'd found that first tour hard. Friend and foe alike would mock him for his lack of stature for although he had the noble head and body of a golden labrador his dad had been a pit bull or some such and as a consequence he had little short legs and a big barrel chest. He was so short arrsed he'd need a bunk up just to get into the pigs. All this and the fact that the Pet Corp had decided that this war dogs given name was to be.... Stumpy !!FFS just made it worse.
Eventually the stress got too much and after a number of collapses on duty he was diagnosed as epileptic and RTU'd to Melton for the needle........



TBC.

[Swoop]

Now, as luck would have it, when my oppo was RTU'd to Melton he found that the chap who'd trained him was now the head honcho and he decided that the boy should get another chance. He decided to return him to a rural posting instead of an Urban one as it transpired that not only was he epileptic but he'd developed a psycopathic hatred of all things civilian. So, when I went to wake him that night, in my civvys, I should'nt have been overly surprised when he tore out the bed box and grabbed me by the ****** leg !!!

'GOB CHA !! CIBBY BABBSTARD !!! he growled through clenched teeth.
'OW, IT'S ME YE STUPID WEE **** !!! LEMME ****** GO !!'
'HUH, SOBBY ! WHABBA FUBB OO IB CIBBYS FO ? ****' he snarled,
'WE'VE GORRA ****** JOB YA MAD WEE *****. NOW ****** GERROFF MA ****** LEG OR I'LL ****** DOB YOU !'
'**** !' he huffed.
'Enough !! c'mon !'

When we arrived at so and so I headed for the Ops Room,
'Evening sir, what you got for us ?'
'Ah Wagtail, yes, you've been tasked by THEM for something or other, they'll pick you up in 15 minutes and why are your trousers all torn !'
'Long story, Well this should be interesting. Never worked for THEM before and we're not supposed to work in the dark. Still, whats the job.'
'****** if I know son, no-one tells me anything, I'm only the Ops Officer. Now b*gger orf.'

So 'orf'we b*ggered and awaited THEM.

Now, this place, so and so, had a very small base and because the locals had a habit of taking pot shots at any vehicle entering or leaving there was a sort of drill for getting in and out. Incoming would radio ahead and as they neared the gates they'd give a couple of toots and the guard would swing them open at the last second and in you'd blast, humping on the brakes as you did to stop you ending up in the cookhouse. I know this now. Did'nt at the time tho'.

Me and the boy were sitting at the unloading bay having a studmuffin when all of a sudden all hell appeared to break loose. A distant toot, the guard running to open the gates and in roared this **** off big Datsun which screeched to a halt beside me. Down came the passenger window and out looked the scariest ****** I'd ever clapped eyes on.
'Wagtail ?' he growled through the droopiest bandido 'tache on the planet,
'get in the back, quick !!'

They'd caught me by surprise, I'd just about s*** myself. I tried to be cool and flippant,
'Mum said I should never get into cars with strange men !'
'Gerrin the ****** car *******, now !' snarled the strangest man in the world.

We got in. A screeching three-ish point turn, a toot and a crashing of gates opening and off we shot, up the road and into the darkness.
'My first job with THEM eh? How cool is this ?' I thought.
'****** civvy ***** are gonna get it !!' growled der hund as he stared at the back of thier heads.

'What the ***** up with the mutt ?' says the strange man in the passenger seat.
'He hates civvys.'
'Well, get a grip of him. I hate ****** dogs and stop him dribbling on the seat !'
'I'll rip his ****** head off' snorted the Stump as I held him in his seat by the harness.

Fortunately the scary, grumpy dude in the passenger seat did'nt say much after that and the no less scary, but slightly less grumpy driver briefed me en route. THEY'd been watching some place for the baddie to come and pick up a weapon but he'd failed to trap so they wanted to recover said gat before they pulled out but could'nt pin point it. Thats where we came in. The plan was for them to take us to an RV where we'd be collected by the patrol,
'When the car stops and the lights are out they'll come to the door and get you. Just do what they say, OK ?'
'Sure, no probs.' I said, more confidantly than I felt.

Nice and easy, do as your told, dead simple, no hassle, nothing to go wrong.

Well, so much for the theory.

'I'll bite thier ****** ***** off !!! growled the Stump.

[Swoop]

so anyway, there I was, cruising through the dark lanes of Bandit Country with the hound growling under his breath beside me and the two scary men growling under thier breath in front of me and me, rocking back and forth, humming softly to myself and trying to find a safe, warm place in my mind as I could see this first op with THEM going completely breasts skyward when without warning the engine and lights were cut and we cruised slowly and quietly to a halt in the pitch dark.The Stump and the scary men had stopped growling at each other and the silence was ***** eerie.

Now, as I said, I'd been briefed as to what would happen when we stopped, but, when after a few seconds the door beside me opened, I ****** crapped myself and stifled a girly squeal as this bush materialised from the dakness and whispered, tactically,
'Wagtail ? This way' and then reached in to grab my arm.
I had barely enough time to think 'Oh fu...!!!!' when 40 lbs of snarling fur and fury leapt across me and siezed the bush by the arm.

'**** BOSS !!! A BUSH ' CHOMP !!! 'GORRIM !!'
'OHYAH ****** !!' hissed the bush painfully.
'OH **** !!' hissed the two sacry men in the front.
'OH **** !!' I thought and wet myself.

'GET YOUR ****** DOG OFF MY ARM YOU ****' hissed the bush, urgently.
'TAKE THAT YA ****** !!' rumbled the dog, manicly
'OH **** !! ' whispered every body else.

'LET HIM GO YA DERANGED LITTLE ****' I commanded,
'WHO ARE YOU CALLING A DERANGED LITTLE ****' threatened the bush,
'NOT YOU !!! THE ****** DOG !!! ' I whispered, desperately.
'OH **** !!' whispered the scary men, groaningly
'GNARR, GNARR, GNARRR' growled the culprit, determindly.

The only way I could convinve the little ****** to release the bush was to squeeze his eyeballs with my thumbs
'OHYAH **** !!!!' he yelped as he flew back in his seat after letting the bush go.
'OYAH **** !!!!' hissed the bush as he went the other way and landed on his arrse on the verge.
'OH **** !!' moaned the scary men in the car.

I did'nt have time to think or say anything before I was grabbed by the collar and hoiked bodily out of the car swiftly followed by the dog courtesy of the lead I still clutched and we landed in a bundle of legs, arms, paws and curses beside the Datsun's rear wheel which just about ran over my head as the scary men. who'd obviously decided enough was enough, sped off into the night.

'**** !! get it sorted and follow me !!' hissed the bush, menacingly,
'COME ON THEN B*****D !!!' challenged the dog, aggresively.
'What the **** is the problem with that ****** animal ?' asked the bush, equally as aggresively.
'He does'ny like civvys' I replied, miserably, 'or bushes either it would appear.'
'***** !' muttered the bush as he headed off through the hedgerow, 'C'mon, follow me !'

So we did. The epileptic, psycopathic canine dwarf and his miserable, doom laden handler.

[Swoop]

So, after a whiley, staggering through the ooloo, we stopped and another couple of bushes emerged from the darkness. The sight of them even shut the nutter up and the chief bush came over and whispered, tactically, in my ear'
'What the **** happened to your trouser leg ?'
'EH ?, oh that, look it's a long story. Could we just crack on with this ****** job my nerves are shredded as it is !'

'Righ-ho' whispers the chief bush,
'here's the story ....whissy ....whissy....whissy... and we think it's over there.'
he announces, pointing into the darkness where I could see the sum total of **** all.
'Right' said the chief bush, when I pointed this out, 'we'll take you down to that gate. It's just beyond there.'

So away we went, the chief bush, followed by me with the dog in front of me choking and gagging, as the only way I could keep him quiet was to grip him by the back of the collar and lift his front feet off the gound.

We stopped at the gate and I tried to calm the psycopathic hoo-er down before we started searching. I did this by whispering the most blood curling threats I could think off in his lug hole and, getting him as calm as he was ever going to be, got him in a full lift and leaned over the gate to drop him on the other side to start the search.

'CRACK !!' went the top spar of the gate as it gave way under my chest.
'CRACK !!' went the second spar as my chest hit that on the way down and pitched me and the dog arrse over tit through what remained of the gate.
'OOOOHHHHHYYYYYAAAAAA FFFFFCCCCCUUUUKKKKKEERR!!' howled the dog as I landed on his soft bits,
'BOW WOW WOW, HOWL HOWL HOWL, BARK BARK BARK !!!' replied every dog in the ****** neighbourhood,

'**** !!!' hissed the chief bush in my ear as he gripped me by the scruff of me neck, 'ARE YOU ****** PAIR DELIBERATELY TRYING TO MAKE A **** OF THIS, YOU'VE WOKEN UP THE WHOLE ****** COUNTY !!'

'IT'S NO OUR FAULT' I hissed back 'WE'VE NEVER ****** DONE THIS BEFORE AND IT'S ****** DARK !!!
WE'RE NO SUPPOSED TO WORK IN THE ****** DARK. !! IF YOU COWBOYS WANT DOG SUPPORT YE SHOULD GIVE US SOME ****** NOTICE.' desperation was making me brave !

'COWBOYS, ****** COWBOYS !!!!' even in the dark I could see the viens popping in his head, 'YOU'RE A PAIR OF USELESS *****. I SHOULD SLOT THE ****** PAIR OF YOU NOW AND BURY YOU HERE !!'

As the chief bush and I traded whispered insults the Stump had recovered his composure and wandered off,

'SSSSTTTT !!! LOOK !!!' hissed another of the bushes and pointed at the dog who had his nose down at the base of a stack of bales not twelve feet from where we crouched. As we watched he snuffled back and forth a couple of times and then stuck his nose into a gap in the bales and then the tail started going ten to the dozen!! He paused for a sec and looked back to check if we were paying attention then whacked his nose back into the bales,
'BOSS, BOSS, BOSS !! A GUN, A GUN, A GUN, A GUN, A GUN, A GUN LOOK,LOOK,LOOK, LOOK, A GUN, A GUN, A GUN !!!' he excitedly indicated.

I gripped him by the harness and pulled him off,
'BOSS, BOSS, BOSS, ISSAGUN, ISSAGUN, ISSAGUN ISSAGUN !!!!' I could hardly keep hold of him.

One of the bushes stuck his hand into the space between the bales and pulled out a wrapped bundle and to a cacophany of howling and barking local dogs he slowly unwrapped the top of the thing and there its was,

'****** TOLD YA, ****** TOLD YA, ****** TOLD YA, ISSAGUN, ISSAGUN, ISSAGUN, ISSAGUN !!! GIMME IT, GIMME IT, GIMME IT !!!' the Stump was beside himself. The bushes were chuffed too,

'GOOD BOY, GOOD BOY, ****** RESULT, GOOD DOG, GOOD DOG.!! they hissed delightedly as they patted the dog.

'I KNOW I AM, I KNOW I AM, GIMME THE GUN, GIMME THE GUN !!' replied the Stump.
Me ? I watched this unbridled scene of joy, reflected on how we had snatched a win from the jaws of certain disaster, and nearly fainted with relief !!!

The RTB was pretty uneventful and even finding that the soap dodging RHF porridge wogs had proffed my tinnies and the choggi was shut, it could'nt spoil the result. I gave the poison dwarf a treat and let him kip in the room that night and as I lay in my scratcher and watched him chew on the remains of my jeans I thought ' you're pretty good when ye wanna be ye wee ****'.
'****** right I am,' he looked back, 'and I hauled your sorry *** out the ***** tonight, eh ?'

[Swoop]

A couple of post scripts.

As a result of our experience that night we did some training and selection of the less.. erm... highly strung mutts, just in case THEY ever tasked us again. THEY never did, strangely enough.

THEY told me that they would send a note to the OC ADU re the job and when I got the summons to Kesh to see the old man I was pretty chuffed tho' a bit wary. I assumed, rightly, that they'd leave out MOST of what happened on the night and concentrate on the result which they did and the old man was dully happy.
Not so the Unit S'rnt Major. Had to endure a thirty minute lecture off the Pet Corp **** for disobeying TUoD(NI) Tactical Use of Dogs(NI) ..no handler should operate his dog in conditions of light where the dog cannot be seen...or some such bollox.

But, hey, even his slavvering ***** did'nt really matter. Me and the Stump had worked with THEM !

A few months later I was at the Bde HQ for the night to see one of those ****** awful CSE shows they used to put on, ye know , two or three bored, saggy breested strippers, an unfunny comedian and a kids entertainer who made animals out of balloons (I kid you not !!!). Anyway, I was waiting at the bar when this bod appears at my side,
'How you doing Jock ?' says he'
'Fine ta mate, erm, do I know you ?'
'You should, your ****** dog tried to rip my arm off near so and so a while back !'
'Oh heavens !' I thought to myself, or some such.
'The rest of the boys are over there, gonna join us ?' he continued.
'Oh, heavens to mergatroyd !' I thought, or some such.

But they were fine, we had a hoot and I told the Stump all about it later that night when I got in,
'****** *******' he grunted while ripping the soles off my new dessies,
' I could've taken the lot of them !'

[Swoop]

And you lot have no idea how much ****** work this took with the * key to get this cut & paste past the text filter.

And....um.....non Brits may find the slang incomprehensible.

[gpwurzel]

Swoop, you owe me a keyboard you ********* *****
 



Wurzel

[texasmom]

I was in the Army from 92 - 96, 93C... no funny stories though.   I enjoyed reading yours Swoop.