"Andy McNab - Bravo-Two-Zero" - читать интересную книгу автора (McNab Andy)

Kuwait at 0200 local time on August 2, 1990, the Regiment was preparing
itself for desert operations.

As members of the Counter Terrorist team based in Hereford, my gang and
I unfortunately were not involved. We watched jealously as the first
batch of blokes drew their desert kit and departed. Our nine month tour
of duty was coming to an end and we were looking forward to a handover
but as the weeks went by rumors began to circulate of either a
postponement or cancellation altogether. I ate my Christmas turkey in a
dark mood. I didn't want to miss out. Then, on January 10, 1991, half
of the squadron was given three days' notice of movement to Saudi. To
huge sighs of relief, my lot were included. We ran around organizing
kit, test firing weapons, and screaming into town to buy ourselves new
pairs of desert wellies and plenty of Factor 20 for the nose.

We were leaving in the early hours of Sunday morning. I had a night on
the town with my girlfriend Jilly, but she was too upset to enjoy
herself. It was an evening of false niceness, both of us on edge.

"Shall we go for a walk?" I suggested when we got home, hoping to
raise the tone.

We did a few laps of the block and when we got back I turned on the
telly. It was Apocalypse Now. We weren't in the mood for talking so
we just sat there and watched. Two hours of carnage and maiming wasn't
the cleverest thing for me to have let Jilly look at. She burst into
tears. She was always all right if she wasn't aware of the dramas. She
knew very little of what I did, and had never asked questions--because,
she told me, she didn't want the answers.

"Oh, you're off. When are you coming back?" was the most she would
ever ask. But this time it was different. For once, she knew where I
was going.

As she drove me through the darkness towards camp, I said, "Why don't
you get yourself that dog you were on about? It would be company for
you."

I'd meant well, but it set off the tears again. I got her to drop me
off a little way from the main gates.

"I'll walk from here, mate," I said with a strained smile. "I need the
exercise."

"See you when I see you," she said as she pecked me on the cheek.

Neither of us went a bundle on long goodbyes.

The first thing that hits you when you enter squadron lines (the camp
accommodation area) is the noise: vehicles revving, men hollering for