The Scottish Play: The Murder

Banks had scanned the classified ads and selected a run down 1975 Datsun for sale in Leith. He made sure it was a runner and had enough petrol for the job. His instincts told him something wasn't right about the deal. The seller was just too keen to get him inside the house and he could smell a rat. As he counted out the cash in the living room, two heavies burst in wielding weapons. They were fast and loud but hadn't counted on a man who did this for a living. He drove out of Leith with the car and the cash.

As far as Roddy was concerned Vivian was on one of her regular shopping trips to Edinburgh. This time she was with Banks. He had new plates ready and parked up the Datsun in the car park an abandoned shopping precinct to retrieve them and swop them over. Then drove into the centre of Edinburgh, parking in George Street. The hotel as close by but far enough away to make sure he wasn't being followed.

The hotel had been Vivians choice, posh and glitzy. She had given him cash to pay for the room in his name but he'd used Colin's AmEx card instead and assumed Colin's identity. In part he didn't want her getting any ideas about being 'Mrs Banks' into her head. As instructed, he gave her a call from the lobby. She told him to give her five minutes before coming up. Time for a quick whiskey in the bar. A double.

..............

With inside information on the layout of Duncan King's home, the job was a doddle. Colin drove the backup car and parked a couple of streets away. Banks and Sandy simply forced their way into the house in Rubislaw Den and shot both Duncan and his wife with an untraceable Luger. A scattering of leaflets proclaiming the Scottish National Freedom Party, a roughly sprayed Anarchy Circle-A symbol and SNFP initials on the living room walls were left behind for the police to find.

A simple typed statement proclaiming the actions of the SNFP was received by BBC Scotland. In the coming fortnight, SNFP leaflets were distributed in the most deprived areas of Glasgow, Edinburgh, Stirling, Perth, Dundee and Aberdeen. Followed by small but noisy litter bin and postbox bombs going off from Glasgow to Peterhead. A car bomb exploded in Dundee and a Panasonic Shop was firebombed. The last one was personal and happened on the day of the King's funeral. Each incident was preceded by a coded message being given to the editorial desk of The Scotsman.

Vivian of course looked her best for the funeral, which took place surrounded by a melee of international media. Whilst there was very genuine sorrow for the deaths of the Kings amongst the mourners, she could feel the undercurrent of fear, the unspoken concern about who could be next. And she was, if truth be told, excited.

 ..............

Derek: "You wanted to see me sir?"

Roy: "Thanks for coming in Derek. Take a seat. Would you like some tea?"

Derek: Nodding to Tom, "Err, no thank you sir. Just had one" He was keen to get out of the Jackal's den.

Roy: "Looks like we have some new players within your remit?"

Derek: "I don't think so sir"

Tom:  "Really?"

Derek: "Look, the SNFP are a pair of middle aged guys working out of a garage in Dunkeld. Jacobite fantasists, no more than that. And the arrests made simply don't fit the profile."

Tom: "You mean the tip-off?"

Roy: "Yes, what's your verdict on that?"

Derek: "Local bobbies in Leith acting on a tip-off about a stolen Datsun, enter a house to find two cases of SNFP leaflets, personal effects and a Luger used in the King murder in the garage. Well, it's straight off the Telly isn't it."

Roy: "Thank you Derek. You can leave now." Derek leaves, grateful that it wasn't the grilling he was expecting.

Roy to Tom: "Well what do you think?"

Tom: "Glagow is still a goer in my opinion. At worst, a couple of extra bodies to lift and maybe a few extra 'soldiers' on the ground. I've got eyes in place. We're just waiting for it to happen. Tim and the 'SO' team have built a model and rehearsing their role. Think they're actually looking forward to it".

"One thing though......this SNFP?.... Smacks of some counter-gang stuff, pure Kitson if you ask me. Are we sure another door in this building aren't involved?"

Roy: "You're right Tom. Something doesn't fit. I'll ask June to dig.  The secretarial pool probably know more about what's bloody well going on than we do."

Roy lit a cigarette. It doesn't add up. If they lifted the principal players in a single operation would that simply leave a power vacuum? Would unknowns fill the void creating even greater chaos?

Absentmindedly he thumbed the latest reports and operations orders coming from Wales..... and something about Norway - that's all we need, he thought, the bloody "Prince of Denmark" to invade.....



 

The Scottish Play: The Runner

'Mac', Major Iain Frasier MacDuff, Royal Marine Commandos was running. It was what he did to help him think. He always wore his boots to run - out of principle - but tonight he'd picked up his "special" Bergen and was pounding around the periphery of the airstrip in the rain with a pack filled with taped up 2 pound sand 'bricks'. "Daft sod" muttered a bootie on patrol as Mac hammered past splattering puddles.

Major MacDuff was miles away back in the green, back in 'Indo'. Back when Roddy McBeath was another wet behind the ears candidate at Lympstone and MacDuff a sgt about to get selected for officer training. They found themselves in the same 'batch' and surprisingly became bloody good mates. 'Indo' cemented that friendship; then Roddy had got hitched, basically to a bottle of gin - a pretty one though. Eventually Roddy left the Royals for civvie street and gradually they had drifted.

The MacDuff's, there was Mikki now, still sent an Xmas card and sometimes him and Mikki called in on the McBeath's when they were on a rare foray to Aberdeen but as Mikki said - "it's like sitting in a fridge. With an acid tongued cow who still thinks I'm just a WO2's daughter."

Then this....

He'd been in the duty room, talking bikes with the scaleys and winding up Adjutant Rory when the phone rang. "Major MacDuff? Your wife, for you sir" the orderly was still cautious about him.  

MacDuff: "Mikki? What's so urgent?"

Mikki: "There's been a terrible shooting. It's on the News. The head of The Cawdor Group and his wife have been murdered. It's not Roddy is it?"

MacDuff: "No. No, I don't think so. I know he's on the board now, but.....? Have they said who or where?"

Mikki: "They were having dinner..." There was genuine concern in her voice. But he knew it was more a concern for him through his friendship than for Roddy and 'Viv'.

MacDuff: "Look, keep me posted of any developments and we'll talk when I get off duty."  He put down the phone pensively. There was a moment's silence. Quizzical faces were looking at him. "Rory. Tell Tom to put his boys on alert. One hour standby. Warm up the alert flight too. There's been an oil related incident in Aberdeen. Possibly nothing but just in case it's part of something bigger we don't want to be caught with our arses hanging out."

The Scottish Play: The Dinner

Vivian McBeath looked her most stunning. She flirted with Banks from the moment he appeared at the door. Over dinner every movement was calculated. Every toss of the head, every coy glance. Good old Vivian he thought. Using everything in your armoury to get your way.

Roddy laid out the full proposal. He began with "Just suppose..." What followed was a long term plan aimed at gaining power within Cawdor and with that, a powerful political hand to play in the formation and running of a newly independent Scotland. 

Vivian sent Roddy to the kitchen to take food and a hot drink out to Bank's man in the car. "John", she took him by the hand and placed the other hand on his thigh. "You are a man of action. I know I can rely on you. I have important friends waiting to help. Together we can make this happen. But Duncan must go."

By the time Roddy had returned. Vivian and Banks were composed and smoking in the lounge. Banks downed his whiskey and began "Well, just supposing of course....." then laid out his operation plan of who, what and when.

Vivian: "And your men?"

Banks: "We've been through a lot together and they are loyal to me. If I'm with you, they will be too. The key to this is Frasier. With the Royals behind us, we have a military power base and even some legitimacy. I'll broker a meeting but you need to win him over, as I'm sure you will" Looking directly at Vivian. "Plus you two have history" motioning towards Roddy. "Given the shit the country's in right now, bringing stability is right up Mac's street."

.........

As they leave, Colin thanked Banks for the scran and got the response "Don't thank me. Thank Viv."

Colin replied: "She's a classy bit of stuff. Real lady..... So, did you get yer knee trembler then boss?"

Banks didn't answer. The unspoken part of the plan was coming together in his head.
 

The Scottish Play: The Car

Banks opened the passenger door to be hit by a strong smell of Indian cooking "Smells worse than an Indian whorehouse!" Two flimsy bags with takeaway meal containers sprawled against the back seat. An empty foil container already sat crumpled on the dashboard.

Banks "Where's mine?" At that moment both rear doors opened. Sandy and Bruce got in simultaneously. The doors were barely shut before Colin gunned the engine and roared off down Crown Street heading out of the city.

Colin: "How was your old pal then? Everything on the up?" The others were divvying the food as he spoke.

Banks: "Yep. Had a job offer for us. How would you gentlemen like to moonlight as security consultants and make some money from this oil bonanza?"

Bruce: "What! Every part-time secretary is driving a convertible in this town?  I want some of that!"

Banks over his shoulder, "How were things at the house?"

Sandy "Quiet. She's a looker apparently. Spent most of the evening on the phone with a drink in her hand." Banks amused himself with the thought 'no change there then'.

Iain had watched the house. To his neighbours and current workmates he was a roughneck. He'd been on the Thane exploration rig when the discovery was made. He was on rotation, this was his leave, and tonight of all nights, he had sat in his Astra with a pair of high powered binoculars, a flask and a cheese and pickle sandwhich, watching some posh bird when he could have been out hitting the town with Kim. 

The Cortina kept just within the speed limit as it sped down the A92 towards Stonehaven, then Montrose and finally Arbroath. The men inside were wolfing down their Indian scran using the Nan to scoop from each others foil containers.

...............

Whitehall. The lights are burning late in D Wing.

SigInt: "Sorry to bother you sir. Message from Cauldron regarding Banquet."  He hands over a transcript.

Nigel: "At last. Let's see. Good. Good! Tony, arrange breakfast with the Minister. The witches are in play"

The Scottish Play: The Flat

Banks made a show of leaving. McBeath was in no doubt that everyone in The Grill was aware that they were "going for a curry".

A crowd was assembling outside the Music Hall.  They joined the pedestrian traffic on their side of the street as if heading for the crossing to go and see whatever was on. McBeath remembered one of his secretaries getting excited at seeing Phil Lizzy? or someone similar appearing at the venue earlier in the year.

Banks took his arm and made a show of gesturing in the direction of the Indian restaurant. Banks kept up the chatter as they walked along Union Street. McBeath went to look over his shoulder.

Banks softly said "Colin is with me." At Bridge Street they stopped outside the entrance to the Indian. Banks scoured the menu and pointed at a couple of dishes. "Fancy a kebab instead?" McBeath did his best to keep up with the charade and let Banks lead. Half way down Bridge Street, Banks said "You've got a flat in town. Let's go there. Im sure you'll have a good drinks cabinet."

They cut back on themselves by the 'Pally'. At the bottom of Windmill Brae Banks stopped to light a cigarette. He patted his pockets "What ya know, no matches" and stopped Colin, to all intents and purposes a passerby, with good natured gestures and as Colin lit his cigarette, Banks reeled off a list of Indian dishes....."and don't forget the Nan!"

McBeath's flat was in Crown Terrace. It was everything Banks expected. High ceilings, tasteful decoration. Vivian's hand no doubt. He had hoped there would be a mini bar with optics on the wall and high stools, but was to be disappointed. The contents of the drinks trolley however, did not disappoint.

Banks settled back in one of the plush armchairs "So, what's it to be Roddy?"

McBeath looked at John Banks. Captain John Banks, Boat Troop, 22 Special Air Service Regiment, formerly Royal Marines; then at the floor, before drawing a long breath, "These are troubled times. Men who know each other need to stick together. Make the most of whatever opportunities come their way....."

Captain Banks listened. McBeath was offering a job. A very well paid job as private security consultant to the Cawdor Group. He could name his own terms, hire his own team. His men. Known men. He could stay in the military, for now. But there was more, couched in veiled terms and he started to build a picture of what McBeath was saying. Banks was not slow to pick up. He could spot an opportunity and he was always ready to jump on an opportunity.

McBeath came to an end, "Think it over carefully and then come out to the house for dinner."  Banks smiled internally. Ah, Vivian's behind this he thought and he wondered if she was still as big a flirt after a drink or two.....

The Scottish Play: The Meeting

The Grill was busy as usual. The long, dark mahogany bar accommodated dozens of jostling elbows amid a forest of pint glasses and the occasional whiskey chaser. Cigarette smoke hung in clouds adding to the unmistakable air of masculinity.

The patrons were a mixed crowd. Printers, shunters and posties at the end of their shift. A couple of solicitors from Golden Square were having a quick one before heading home. Roughnecks wetting their neck before going on the piss in Union Street and a few, mostly older men, who were ensconced for the night.

McBeath had invited a couple of his key employees at Cawdor for a quick dram. He had a taste for Malt and this was the place in Aberdeen to come for a real drink. Being a traditional galley bar, you could see everyone and conversation was lost amidst the dense concentration of voices. Whilst they drank, talked and laughed in self congratulation at their big oil find, McBeath was able to quietly monitor the comings and goings in the pub.  When they made to leave, McBeath made an excuse to stay "last one for the road before I have to face the wife's cooking", and took a vacant seat with an eye on the door, one of the few seats in the pub. He kept the chair next to him free with a double malt left tactically on that edge of the table that was little bigger than a dinner plate.

He took a pint and drank it slowly, in part to keep his wits, in part to steady his nerves. Banks was late. Ten minutes had gone by and McBeath started to feel on edge. The place would start to fill shortly with people trying to get a drink before going to the Music Hall across the street.

Suddenly Banks sweeps in, his open trenchcoat following him. "Roddy!"  He appears like a genie out of a lamp. A larger than life character and downs the double waiting for him in a single gesture of satisfaction. "Another one?" Not waiting for an answer he efficiently parted the bodies at the bar and returned with two glasses. McBeath had missed the man who slipped in unnoticed in Bank's wake and positioned himself at the bar.

Banks, emphasising his Glasgae patter kept up the loud and ebullient long lost friends meeting up routine till any listeners got bored, and then suddenly switched to a lower, more serious tone, "So, what does the hero of the hour want with an old warhorse like me.....?"

  

Behind Every Successful Man...

Shares in North Sea Oil leapt today following the announcement that The Cawdor Group, the largest oil and gas company based in Scotland have discovered new oil reserves estimated at 200 million barrels in the Thane Field, located in deep waters to the east of the Shetland Islands.

Roddy McBeath, head of the exploration arm of The Cawdor Group, was appointed to the board upon the announcement of the fresh oil discoveries. Despite setback after setback, Mcbeath maintained faith in the Thane field and despite criticism from within the higher echelons of the Group continued with exploration.....

"Duncan this, Duncan that, that's all I bloody hear from you. You should be Vice Chairman. Hell! You should be Chairman of Cawdor by now! But no, always playing by the bloody rules. Is that what they taught you in the Marines?"

"It's about time you were promoted to the board. Don't you see....Duncan has deliberately kept you down. Look....darling. You are a name now in all the right circles. Duncan is going to ensure you don't upstage him but you know, Scotland is crying out for a leader. Cawdor oil gives Scotland a future, an independent future and someone has to take the helm".

"You still have connections. Friends in the Marines. And you will have many more friends and connections in high places now. The RIGHT kind of friends. People listen to you. Thane has shown you to be a man with guts, prepared to do the right thing and see it through..... Plus, you were decorated in Indonesia. That's got to be worth something". 

"You have to think higher now. Think in political terms, not be content to remain a pawn in petty board room shenanigans...... oh, I know you think I'm a grouch..... I need another drink. Are there any more spirits in the house?"

Returning, glass in hand.....

"Frasier is still in the Marines isn't he? Banks is too, and he's in Arbroath. They're not playing by the rules these days and they are bound to support you. I'll support you. The man I married. The man who was prepared to take risks for what was right. And this darling is right. Right for you, right for US, right for this nation. You are that man......aren't you?"
 

The Scottish Powerplay; Prologue

Minister: "Nigel, spot of Cabernet?" 

Nigel: "Thank you Minister. Half a glass if you please. On duty. Derek here (standing off camera) is from the Policy Coordination Unit with your Scots briefing"

Minister: "Well, lead on Macduff"
 
Derek: Unsure at last remark "yessir. Minister...The position in Scotland is somewhat fluid. The vast majority want independance in some form and yet there is no clear sign of a common force emerging - unlike in Wales. The Scot players, frankly, seem to be more concerned with the who gets what regarding the oil revenues than how they actually get it. There are significant forces available but as yet they have not really taken a grip. Excuse me for saying, but with the collapse of legitimate centralised government eminating from Whitehall, there is a power vacuum - it's just a question of  who takes over".
 
Minister: Motioning around "Does this look like a collapse to you.... err, Derek?"

Nigel: "Yeees, thank you Derek - you have another briefing perhaps?"
 
Derek: Straightens. "Yes sir. But I should mention Irish Republican involvement on the Clyde and increasing Norwegian government uncertainty about the security of the oilfields...."
 
Minister: "Yes, yes, thank you..."

Derek leaves.

Minister: "Rather nice 'Cab'. I think I'll have a bottle sent to my office".

Nigel: "Minister, we need to get one step ahead of the Scots Nats, create the environment up there and build the battlefield to fight it how we want to fight it".
 
Minister: "None of that nonsense they ran into in the Welsh Office I hope Nigel? Perhaps something the Army Council will appreciate...?"

Nigel: "Yes Minister".

 

3rd Man in the Kebab House

Linda: "Well, I guess it's getting late. Thank you for such a wonderful evening".

John: "Yes, I enjoyed myself too.... maybe....no, you're right, I have to be available for ops tomorrow...."

Linda: "Ops?"

John:  Leaning forward to finish his drink, responding nonchalantly. "Operation".

Linda: "I, I thought you were an Estate Agent, did I get that wrong? Are you telling me you are some kind of doctor?"

John: Sitting back heavily in his seat and let's out a sigh. No, I....well I guess the cat's out of the bag. I shouldn't really say. Official Secrets and all that....

Linda: "Say what?"

John: "I was warned about this. In the training. Beautiful woman. Lovely evening. Alcohol. But I've had such a great time and you, well, are such a great reason to be alive..... the Kebab House.

Linda: "What about it? Were you involved"

John: Hangs head. "It was rough. God I need to talk to someone. Look this is completely confidential I shouldn't be telling you this and you must promise that you don't tell anyone. But I really need to talk about it with someone who can understand".

Linda: "Yes, Yes...."

John: "My name is not really John. It's a cover. My real name is Simon. I am in the Territorial SAS and well, with the regulars being so stretched with the war in Wales I am called on to do my bit".

Linda: Gasp "Simon"

John/Simon: "We were called in to do the Kebab House job. Did you see it on the Telly? (she nods),The guys in black gear and masks (nods again).  I was the 3rd man in the Kebab House. Maybe you saw me? Flashlight on my right hip. It's my trademark".

Linda: "Oh my God! I didn't realise. Yes. Yes I remember seeing you. My poor thing...... you were so brave. Oh it must have been horrible. Look Simon, perhaps, if you want to and you won't get into trouble, I'll get us a nightcap......"

The 1970s New BBC Series

Tonight on BBC 2 at respected social historian Dominic Sandbrook begins a new series looking at the 1970's and the decade's impact on Britain over the last 30 years.

Sandbrook's latest book SEASONS IN THE SUN: The Battle for Britain 1974-1979 is available in hardback and a thoroughly recommended read. If you want to know the real history leading up to The Winter of '79, this is the one stop shop for your research.

Looking forward to the TV series to immerse myself in period feel. Tonight's episode spotlights 1970-72.

Cheers
Mark

Petrol Crisis.Government Send in Troops!

..

Troops takeover forecourts as petrol crisis spreads 

 

An Emergency Government spokesman has outlined operations underway to protect dwindling fuel supplies vital to the economy from terrorist attack. As a further measure, rationing of petrol at the pumps will begin at midnight tonight to "ensure the fair and even provision of petrol".

In an interview with the BBC, the Under Secretary for Trade announced that the rationing is also aimed at "the prevention of uneccessary hoarding and profiteering by unscrupulous individuals", whilst also allowing "those engaged in essential services such as doctors, nurses and firemen to be able to get to their place of work".

It was also announced that petrol prices will remain at 79p a gallon for 4 Star for all those working in the essential services, but rise to 89p for everyone else. In an effort to lessen the blow to motorist's wallets, double Green Shield Stamps will be offered with all petrol sales.

Whilst the Labour Party denounced the move as "Rich man's rationing", queues of cars started to form at garage forecourts from early in the morning. Many motorists ran out of petrol during the lengthy wait and had to resort to pushing their cars to the pumps.

Gerald Gibbon, 35, a civil servant, and one such motorist whose car ran out of petrol said, "Well, if they weren't putting the prices up, I wouldn't have had to sit in a queue for 3 hours and probably wouldnt have run out of petrol". Harriet Bells, 33, mother of two who had been queuing for two hours said "I've been stuck in this queue for 2 hours. My children should be at school not having to queue for petrol."

A sergeant from the Royal Corps of Logistsics whose unit had secured one of many petrol stations in the Midlands told reporters "My wife's a nurse. She needs a car because of her shifts. I bet many of these people could walk their kids to school or take the bus".

Shops have experienced a run on bread, milk and eggs amid fears that the fuel crisis and rationing will effect supplies of everyday groceries.

The Pre-Match Prep Talk

"Good morning gentlemen. As you know, I have had to recover somewhat after my unscheduled visit to the other side of Offa's Dyke..."

Crowd: [LAUGHTER]

".....but as you will all agree, we have unfinished business over there. I therefore think it appropriate to give you an overview of current thinking on the Welsh rebel forces - for those of you who slept through Mr Keegan's lectures at Sandhurst, that is the first use of that phrase by an English General in some 600 years..."

Crowd: [LAUGHTER & BLEATING]

"Now, firstly, the deserters. And let's be clear gentlemen. Former members of Her Majesty's Armed Forces who have decided to stand against the government are deserters and as such subject to military law. We will give them no credence by calling them rebels. Is that understood?"

Crowd: [QUIET AFFIRMATION]

"Deserters from the various Welsh regiments who defected in the autumn have since then, been integrating with and training up the local TA cadres, who themselves have been enrolling local diehards. This gives them several battalion sized battlegroups with varying level of training, mechanisation and support."

Next...the Mobile Columns and the Marines. This is something of an unholy alliance and are frankly dangerous. The mobiles are the original Free Taffs who drive around in armed landrovers etc; the booties seem to see them as kindred unconventional spirits....."

Crowd: [CATCALLS]

".....but the Mobiles have been reinforced by the few special forces deserters and they and the booties have bought an edge to an otherwise dull spear.

Now. The Militia; these could be a joke, titles like "the rhondda boys" sound pretty amateur - but there is a complication. The Welsh Guards no longer exist as an effective formation, there are however some who were on leave, training etc etc. These have been acting as snipers, stay behind parties and generally running around being troubemakers. Some joined the Mobiles and a lot have been mentoring the Militia. Not a pretty thought.

Finally a few words on support, we believe the anti-government forces have no shortage of  Land Rovers, and they do have some CVRTs. They are known to have taken whatever AFVs were down at Castlemartin, including a troop of Abbots; and there are reports of a couple of scratch crews making a run for the border in stolen tanks. Armour is not therefore a concern. They have some helos but the Crabs in their usual slack way, don't know how many.

Two notes of caution. Their training includes a lot of tabbing so they can and will cover ground on foot. Second, their radio comms are in a fast gabble of idiomatic Welsh and elliptical English that we cannot break.

Finally. When we kick off and take the game to their try line, remember this. Experience to date, including my own little adventure, indicates that if you drop the leaders and any showy bastards, the rest will disperse.

Thank you"

Crowd: [ATTENTION then DISMISS]

"Hugh, before you dash, Llanover? I'd like your plan as soon as. Say before 18:00?"

Cheers
Maff

BBC Panorama 1979: Hunting the Insurgency

Panorama has been given unprecedented access to military operations in the Borcestershire area of operations. In tonight's programme we follow 14 Platoon of the Royal Wessex Rangers, as the Army and security services hunt the killers of what has become known in the papers as the "Bloody Cross Massacre".

14 Platoon were inserted into the countryside by helicopter five days go. Part of a battalion sized net  tightening around the suspected insurgents. The men of 14 platoon, the oldest private 22 years of age, and most veterans of The Troubles, have been living rough and sleeping when they can in hedgerows or the cover of a stone wall.

It's a daily routine of setting up observation posts, random snap vehicle checks on unsuspecting motorists and the painstaking searching outlying farm buildings and other potential hiding places where their prey may have gone to ground. But the 14 Platoon remain cheerful and eager to bring the killers of their fellow soldiers to justice.

At 19:04hrs on Tuesday evening they are tired, dirty and down to their last KitKat. Unaware that painstaking intelligence work has pinpointed the location of the terrorists. In No. 3 Section, Private Hooper 18, has spotted a glimpse of movement and a possible light at an abandoned cottage. Our camera team joined Corporal Gavin Taylor as he takes a closer look....

Corporal Taylor quietly whispers to us "It's them!"and gives a thumbs up hand signal to his men.

 CRACK! CRACK! Muffled shouts. CRACK!

"CONTACT! Gun Group, 100 metres - house doorway - bursts, FIRE!"........

Tomorrow night's game is No Stone Unturned. No.3 Section have rumbled the Clash Action Front ASU hiding out in Ravendale Cottage. The rest of 14 Platoon are hoofing it as fast as they can to the loc. Have they closed the net on Alan Tate?

Cheers
Mark
  

The Net Tightens

"......Thank you Mr Hacker. We can assure the public that no stone will be left unturned in our search for the murderers. They will have no resting place and will be brought to swift justice."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

POLICE 5

 "Have you seen this vehicle as you were going about your business? An Army Land Rover taken during the murder of a country garage propieter and 6 young soldiers in Borcestershire?"

 "Remember. Keep 'em peeled"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 "Alan! You're all over the news. I can't believe it. I love you. You aren't hurt are you?...... Jeff? Oh god no! His poor mum.......A martyr? Yes, yes, but his mum. I feel so sorry for her....... No, no, I'm fine. Just worried about you. Are you somewhere safe?.......No, no-one has been round. I don't think they know it's you........The party plans to put out an official communique......OK. Yes. Yes, I'll tell them. When will I see you?"

"...... What do you mean? Of course I won't repeat this conversation!..... Why mustn't I let on we've met before?  I don't understand... Make out you're a stranger? A man I never saw?.......

 "...... But I love you and want to stand by you......" CLICK. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

"... Alan? Alan?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

CLICK

 "Sir? Got the bastards!"

 
Cheers
Mark
 

The Paras: 1982 Documentary

  
The Paras was a fly on the wall BBC TV documentary aired in November 1983. It follows the recruits from 480 (Training) Platoon of the Parachute Regiment, as they undertake basic training between January and June 1982.

The timing of the documentary was impeccable. The Falklands War took place during the course of filming and provides a sober backdrop of reality behind the training.

All the episodes are available on Youtube. Just follow the link in the embedded video above. The episode I've chosen shows the recruits towards the end of their training on a live firing exercise. All scrimmed and cammed up, as per true Tom of the Cold War period.

Parts 1 & 2 of this episode give a very close up and gritty idea of British Army tactical training for the individual soldier. Following the 'action' you don't need a commentary to spot the greeness of the 'trained' recruits. Highlighting the real differences between an experienced soldier (listen to the DS instructions and examples) to green soldiers and what then of untrained civilian militia?


Cheers
Mark

Panorama - the Winter of 79 in 1975

In September 1975, the BBC's Panorama takes a look inside Sandhurst. We find the then officer cadets preparing for a Winter of '79 scenario on the streets of Britain under no less a tutor than Brigadier Frank Kitson.

Winter of '79, courtesy of Sandhurst in 1975

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p00kfytm

The documentary was aired a just over a year after the Miners Strike, the three day week and Edward Heath asking "Who rules Britain?" Almost 3 million are unemployed. Chief Constable David McNee, warned the government that if shipbuilding on the Clyde went under, he would need 15,000 extra police officers to cope with the resulting civil unrest.

"Filmed at the height of the troubles in Northern Ireland, this programme offers a fascinating insight into officer training. Six years in Northern Ireland have given the British Army unique experience in counter insurgency and internal security techniques. Sandhurst recognises that the Army's Ulster experience could - one day - have to be used in Britain, and there is a need to train officers for that possibility. So imagine a world where Scotland has left the United Kingdom, where some English cities are thinking of following suit and where law and order is breaking down in our towns. It may seem far fetched, but the recruits of Sandhurst are presented with just such a scenario."

An impressive historical document of the time. Available to watch in full on BBC's iPlayer.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p00kfytm

Cheers
Mark

The Briefing

   

Good morning gentlemen! I'm Captain Frost, IO, 5 Para and my job today is to brief you on the Borset TAOR. We'll begin with the threat making the most headlines at the momement. The Armed Forces of Independent Wales aka to you and me as the Free Taffs.

 Though an always mobile and increasingly well-armed force, the Free Taffs have no overt military presence in Borset. That said, the OC Borset TAOR is very much aware that his western phase line is the Welsh Border and has deployed a screening force to deter any adventurous raids from the gunned up landrovers and scout cars of the Free Taff Mobile Columns. On the covert front there are reportedly Free Taff agents in Borset probably working on ratlines, infiltration and gun running; Op Dragon Fire netted a number of such agents along with at least one member of a PIRA ASU confirmed – despite rumours of a decision at the upper echelons of the Free Welsh leadership not to cooperate with known terrorist organisations. The Free Taffs are well aware that Borset is a logical jump off point and staging area for any ground offensive into Mid Wales – so it is in their interest to support any anti-government forces active in the Borset TAOR. Intelligence suggests that Borset is the limit of organised Free Taff infiltration into England – unless penetration agents of ostensibly English heritage were put in place during the slide into crisis, which is currently discarded as a possibility.  

Forces present – no more than a scattered dozen, very lightly armed personnel who will seek to avoid contact unless unavoidable.

Questions?

PIRA and asscoiated Irish sympathisers have extended operations to the mainland  in support of anti-government forces. No doubt they hope to capitalise on the present instability. There are two known ASU cells remaining. One in the environs of Borset here, and the other operating within the Irish community based witin the housing estates of East Felpersham. Deatils of known members, operations and modus operandi are in the folders you have signed for.

Whilst no formal military activity by these ASUs has been identified to date, we can't expect that situation to remain. What is certain, is that they are training and arming local Trots.


Questions?

Right! Let's look at the Marines.

"Booo!"


[Laugh]

There are no formed units of Marines operating in the Borset TAOR. To date there have been a number of raids by formations up to reinforced platoon size which have been aimed at disrupting communications and hampering our supply build up.

Patrols have come into contact with small stay behind parties consisting of both Marines and Cadre personnel. It is likely that their role is to provide intelligence, attack targets of opportunity and organise local resistance. Most contacts have been in the Hassett Hills and corridor formed by the A1992.

Again, you'll find more details in your folders. We'll break here for tea and Garibaldis before taking a closer look at the Trot and Trade Union anti-government para-militaries and armed youth movements centred in and around Borset and Felpersham.


If you'll excuse me, 'll just check to see if the corporal has any Ginger Nuts.......


 

"Heaven help us if there is a war!"

The British Armed Forces in 1979 were the product of the cumulated effect of two major post colonial defence reviews.

The Healy Reviews of 1965 and 67-68 under the Labour Government reflected the financial crisis of the time which included a major devaluation in Sterling. Consequently the government looked to reduce defence spending which was running at 7% GNP.

Decisions were taken to reduce the UK’s global footprint and concentrate the deployment of military forces within Europe, with a commitment  “not undertake major operations of war except in co-operation with allies”. This led to the withdrawal from Aden and accelerated withdrawal from Singapore, Malaysia and the Persian Gulf. There were reductions in British presence in Cyprus and Malta, but there would also be reductions in BAOR, whilst the Territorial Army was due to be cut by half.

Under the Conservative government of 1970-74, little changed except a reversal in the decision to reduce the Territorial Army. Labour returned to power in 1974 and immediately instigated a further review of Britain's defence expenditure, then running at 5% GNP. The resulting Mason Review saw a virtual elimination of Britain’s military capability outwith home waters.

“a new balance between commitments and capabilities and between manpower and equipment expenditure will be achieved to meet the Government’s strategic priorities”.

We've heard that before and quite recently too. Four major commitments were identified. These were Britain's contribution to NATO front-line forces in Germany, anti-submarine forces in the eastern Atlantic, home defence and the UK’s nuclear deterrent. The review committed to withdrawing all British forces in the Mediterranean region, with the exception of Cyprus, including all maritime forces assigned to NATO in the Med and from a number of remaining theatres in the far east and West Indies.

With the tag line of "cutting the tail without cutting the teeth" the army's structure was changed to the Field Force and Battle group concept whihc saw it's first major test during exercises of 1976. Independent pundits saw it as the government trying to break down the regimental system - making future cuts less emotionally charged.


 The RAF’s transport fleet was cut by half and amphibious capability reduced. Airborne assault capability was largely removed also significantly reduced.Training budgets were slashed, weapons and rearmament programs cancelled or reduced in scale.

In 1977 the Joint Intelligence Committee presented Prime Minister Jim Callagham with a damning report about Britain's capability to defend itself against a conventional Soviet strike. Callaghan, often slated as a Soviet mole, showed his true metal and ordered an urgent review of Britain's defences. He was so shocked by the findings that he wrote on the document "Heaven help us if there is a war!".

The findings of the review demonstrated that Britain only had the capacity to put up a token defence and would in all probability be knocked out of a European war by a Soviet airborne strike as a prelude to the Warsaw Pact forces crossing the Inner German Border. Rather than an 'unsinkable aircraft carrier', the United kingdom was at that point was more akin to the Atlantic Conveyor.

As a result, in 1978 there was a turn around on defence spending with the sustainability fo Britain's home defence at the centre of the agenda. The Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979 ensured that defence spending needed to be reassessed and this led to the Conservative government under Margaret Thatcher ratifying Labour's NATO-centric focus with conventional forces acting as part of the NATO alliance in Europe backed by Britain's independent nuclear deterrent.

Consequently, with Polaris to fund, the Nott Review of 1981, "The Way Forward", proposed that 57% of the defence cuts should fall on the Navy, stripping it's out of theatre capability including the scrapping of naval airpower and the Antarctic patrol vessel Endurance. Nott only just stopped short of disbanding the Royal Marines.

The Falklands War in 1982 demonstrated the fallacious nature of the UK's defence and foreign policy and that the defence budget was simply not aligned to meet it. If we can leave the victory aside, the conflict demonstrated the shortfalls in the armed forces capability at that time to actually wage war, especially outwith the BAOR battlefield.

In our Winter of '79 scenario we have an armed forces, that is (contentiously), a paper tiger. The most recent rounds of defence cuts under Labour have left an army in transition, with reduced logistical and support formations, limited realistic training and only a few days of ammunition stocks. Whilst a reorganisation of home defence is underway, how much of it has been undertaken? What can be relied upon in a civil emergency? Sort of levels the playing field and makes everything up for grabs.

Cheers
Mark

Not Mentioned in Despatches

.

In my day job I'm paid to challenge the status quo. So you can imagine that Not Mentioned in Despatches by Spencer Fitz-Gibbon would be right up my street. It is a forthright read that challenges the accepted mythology that has built up around the battle of Goose Green in 1982.

Or is it. Challenge it certainly does and there is a lot that needs to be said and exposed for critical re-evaluation. For us as historians and thinking wargamers, it's a worthwhile tome even if it just forces us to remember that we can't believe everything we read. Simply because something is in print, doesn't make it a tablet of stone.

But you know, the same is true of revisionist history. Rather than a new eye-opening account of the battle from a fresh perspective, I found a book that was far from objective, and miles away from Hugh Bicheno's very even handed, critical account of the Falklands in Razor's Edge The Unofficial History of the Falklands War.

Funnily, Not Mentioned in Despatches encouraged me to rethink Goose Green, but not in the way you might imagine. Rather than think in strictly military terms, I put my professional project management hat on and looked at the pressures, challenges, assumptions, planning, command and control of the battle all in the guise of a government project. The results were really interesting and made me more understanding about the initial planning and handling of the battle from Colonel Jones's perspective (taking the personality out of the equation). I might only have to face verbal and email bullets but at it's very basic level it's still about how to get a job done to your seniors expectations, facing known and unknown challenges, using the people and resources at your disposal.

It's easy to take Goose Green out of perspective, throw our hands in the air and wail at the fact it wasn't the boys own victory we all secretly cherish. I am both equally amused and dismayed at the popular line of thinking in recent years that a relatively cheap victory, form whatever historical period is somehow sour and tarnished. Regardless of whether you see Goose Green as a battle lost by the Argentinians rather than won by the British, it was a victory nevertheless and an important one. It demonstrated lessons that would be applied in the hill battles that brought the war to an end.

Not Mentioned in Despatches, certainly a worthwhile read and fresh analytical approach but don't allow it to blind you into throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

Cheers
Mark
   

Tales from the Ministry (2)

"Ah, Gerald, thank you for dropping in so quickly. Tea? No Jaffa Cakes I'm afraid. As I've been told to give you an "interview without coffee", biscuits seem excessive."

"I imagine this is about Caerwent, Sir Nigel?"



"Imagine, Gerald, IMAGINE? Our military lords and masters are talking of preventative detention! I do hope there is no history of leeks in your family, Gerald, Cambridge or not. A handful of long-haired welshies with guns toddle up to one of the biggest arms dumps in the UK and fill their boots with OUR AMMUNITION and YOU IMAGINE THATS WHAT I WANT TO SEE YOU ABOUT?"

"Well, Sir Nigel, there was rather a lot of them and the logistic chaps knew they were the ones who'd dealt with that SAS patrol, and the hundred or so Royal Marines didn't help either."

"Marines, Gerald, just MARINES nowadays."

"Sorry Sir Nigel. At least they left the napalm, the bomblets and the nuclear mines."

"All of which belong, despite the receipts, to the USA, Gerald, who, by the way are now asking what happened to several crates of M16s, AR15s and some LAWs? And to judge by the aerial photos, the Pentagon is shipping whats left to Lord Knows Where, while what is left of our stuff has been wired to go "pop" if we as much as sneeze at it."

"But that would take out most of South Wales, perhaps...... if we just had a small cough?"

"And Gloucestershire? Avon? HIGHGROVE? That's all Gerald. Please just make sure Aldershot is still chained to the bicycle stand."