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

Tiny stopped in his tracks, turned, and said, "Well, what the fuck are
you doing here?"
"I don't know-they just told me to come."
"Fucking hell, we haven't had anybody here for eighteen months, and now
they're sending you."
I'd never felt such a dickhead in my life.
We went into the troop area, which was on a small spur occupied by
A-frames. In the middle was a large fire. All eight members of 7
Troop were sitting around, having a kefuddle and brewing up.
As we walked in, Tiny said, "We've got this fellow here turned up; his
name ' s Andy McNab, and he's a Green jacket. What the fuck's he doing
here?"
He started having a go at a guy called Colin, who I assumed was the
senior bloke present.
Colin was about five feet six inches, very quietly spoken but extremely
blunt in his replies to Tiny. He sounded as if he was from Yorkshire.
"I'm a para, too," he said as he shook my hand.
Christ, was anybody in 7 Troop not from Para Reg?
They introduced themselves.
"Nosh."
"Frank."
"Eddie."
"Mat."
"Steve."
"Al."
"Get yourself over there," Colin said, and bung a pole bed up."
I went to the edge of the clearing, dropped my bergen, and got out my
golack.
I'd only ever made one A-frame, and now everybody who was sitting
around brewing up was able to watch me make a bollocks of the second.
Brunei seemed a long time ago as I thrashed at the trees and tried to
chop branches to required lengths. Every time I pulled up one bit the next
would fall down. God knows what they must have been thinking.
I wanted to make a ood impression and was flailing away like a man
possessed, but my pole bed was all over the place. And they were sitting
there, chatting away and smoking, watching me and scratching their heads.
I finally sorted it all out just as it started to come to last light.
They didn't stand to. I thought, Well, what goes on now? I didn't want to
intrude on their session, so I did a few exaggerated yawns and stretches and
got my head down. They carried on the fuddle all night, probably thinking
that I was a right -antisocial prat.
In the morning I got a brew on and some food. Then I wandered over to
Tiny and said, "What happens now?"
"Just get ready and we'll go out, I suppose."
"When do we go out?"
"Don't worry about it."
Colin took me in' his patrol. He seemed really switched on, and I clung
on to him. Colin was my role model.
We were going to do jungle lanes, very much as we'd done on Selection.
We patrolled along in a group of two, then in a group of four, practicing