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

was there because I wanted to do something for my own little gang.
Saracen armored.car had got bogged down in the cuds near Crossmaglen,
and me and another rifleman, Gil, were put on stag to guard it.
Council estates in rural parts of Northern Ireland consisted of nice
bungalows, paid for by subsidies from the European Economic Community. A new
one was under construction; the Saracen had gone into the site to turn
around and had got bogged down in the mud. Another Saracen was trying to
drag it out. The company were called out and were in all-round defense with
an inner and an outer cordon but split up into groups of two and three. All
our arcs overlapped each other, giving us 360 degrees' cover around the
vehicles.
As we took over, the other fellows told us where our arcs were, what
they'd seen, what they hadn't seen, where we were in relation to other
people on stage. We lay in the, hedgerow looking out; it was cold, and the
grass was soaking. My trousers were wet through.
My feet started to go numb, my hands were already frozen, and I
couldn't cover my head up because my ears had to be exposed so I could
listen. I was bored, I was pissed off, and I spent two solid hours slagging
down can drivers for burying their vehicles in the mud.
The SLR (self-loading rifle) at the time had a bipod attached to the
barrel that was like a pair of chopsticks with a spring at one end.
It was a necessary bit of equipment because the rifle was too heavy to
hold properly with its cumbersome night sight on. Every now and then I'd
have a look through to see what was going on.
In the early hours of the morning, as I scanned the countryside yet
again, I saw some movement. I refocused the night sight and blinked hard. I
recognized what I was seeing, but I didn't believe it.
I quietly said to Gil, "We've got two blokes coming down the hedgerow
here."
Gil said, "Yeah, okay, fuck off, big nose."
"I'm telling you, we've got two blokes coming down.
Have a look."
They were skulking down in front of us, maybe just over a hundred
meters away-not that far away at all.
"Fucking hell, you're right!"
As they got closer and came into direct line of sight, I could clearly
see that one of them was carrying a long (rifle).
"What the fuck do we do?" Gil said.
I didn't know. Did we issue a challenge? After all, they might be two
of our blokes. But what if they weren't and they went to ground? There was
no way of contacting an officer or NCO. We were riflemen, so we couldn't be
trusted with a radio. Shouting at the inner cordon would just create
confusion; we might as well just do it, do what we'd been taught: issue a
challenge, and then, if necessary, fire.
Easier said than done. We weren't allowed to have a round cocked in our
weapon; we would have to issue a challenge, cock our weapons at the same
time, and then get back into the aim.
I pulled the bolt hack and shouted, "Halt! Stand still!
This is the army!"
The characters turned.