"Энди Макнаб. Немедленная операция (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

We got another fire order and complied.
Then we saw the mortar fire controller running and shouting out.
I said, "What the fuck's the matter with him?"
Nosh said, "Who gives a fuck-let's just go with him."
I didn't have a clue,what was happening, but if he was running, I was
running. Then I realized: He must be running away from the line of the
mortar. I looked up and saw the mortar round, going straight up in the air
and then disappearing from view, so chances were it was going to come
straight down.
Everybody's feet sprouted wings. I could see the squadron head shed on
the high ground. They, too, started to leg it. The motorbikes roared away.
None of them knew what was happening, but they all knew there was a problem.
When there are problems with live ammunition, you get out of the way.
We were still running when the mortars landed about a hundred meters
behind us. They exploded, but nobody was hurt.
The mortar fire controller had a severe voluntary contribution-which
the SSM loved because it boosted up the cabbage-and an even more severe hard
time from us for the rest of the trip.
We did some more jumping. By now I was really getting into the swing of
the ice-cream troop business, ripping off my jumpsuit as soon as I landed,
putting on shorts and walking around eating crisps, waiting for the next
jump.
Then we had to start the serious stuff. We were sitting on the desert
airstrip one morning, waiting for the C130 to fly up from Muscat.
The terrain was totally different from the original camp, gentle,
undulating dunes that were nice and fluffy to land on. Little forts and
watchtowers sat on the hilltops; villages looked like something out of the
Crusades. History was all around ite. I thought, This is the life; this is
what I've been after all these years.
John said: "We're going to get a bundle ready. What we want to do
tonight is a full troop night jump from twenty-five grand."
We were sitting around the tailgate; it was six o'clock, and the sun
was setting.
"On the bundle I want Steve, Andy, and Mat."
This was good. It was the first time that I'd ever jumped with a
bundle; I'd followed them before, but I'd never jumped with one.
There were three of us on the bundle, which was on a trolley. As soon
as the green light showed, everybody would pile out on top of each other,
really close. The container would go just slightly before the team.
We sat facing the oxygen consoles, in full kit, bergens between our
legs, ready to attach behind our arse when we jumped. The aircraft took off
and circled the DZ, gaining height.
I checked the altimeter on my arm. Twenty thousand feet. We got the
command to rig our kit up. I pushed the bergen behind me and attached it by
hooks to my harness. Now we were waiting for the command to go up toward the
tailgate. When it was time to jump, we took the oxygen off the main console
and put it onto our own bottle.
All the commands were on flash cards; nobody could speak because we
were on oxygen. I watched the ramp start to come down.
On the command we moved to the rear like a line of ducks, shuffling