Forever the Colours Read Free Page B

gave Tommy a beatific smile.
    Softening, Tommy sighed and held out his hand for the old man, though it was shaking slightly. The old man gripped the outstretched hand in both of his, which were surprisingly hot and strong, and, again speaking in Pashto, he stared straight into Tommy’s eyes. These were not the eyes of an old man any more. There was fire in them, and passion, a knowing look that had seen much, travelled far and could tell many a story.
    â€˜My grandpa says you will travel far but will not move. You will lose but will gain much more. He also says do not despair, for there is a path to even the tallest mountain. Look for him on your journey and your return.’
    Tommy pulled his hand back. It felt as though an electric shock had gone through him. He tried to sound cocky again.
    â€˜My return? Ha, I don’t think so, mate. I’ll be down the local job centre. But anyhow, say thanks for the advice.’
    With that, he turned to Jacko and they both tumbled out into the sunlight.

Chapter 2
    Contact
    S ome say that if literacy rates were measured by a nation’s proverbs and poetry, Afghanistan would be one of the most literate countries on earth. But to Private Tommy Evans, walking along a dusty road with his mate Jacko to rejoin the patrol, what the old man had said made about as much sense as Dinga in his Geordie patwa. Jacko was staring at his feet as he walked, like a condemned man, and as he glanced up under his helmet, he noticed all the lads gathered round Dinga and Adams. A medic was taking a look at Dinga’s nose while Adams was squatting about five paces away from everybody else and looking a little red in the face. Well, more purple, really.
    â€˜What’s gonna happen, mucka, do ya think?’ Jacko mumbled under his breath.
    â€˜Well, I say we go over and pretend nothing happened, and perhaps everyone will forget we were ever here. What do you think’s gonna bloody happen, you dickhead?’ seethed Tommy under his breath ‘The CO will have us out as soon as look at us.’
    Jacko looked despondent. ‘I’m sorry, mate, I couldn’t help it, and I couldn’t stand by and watch. Or listen even.’
    â€˜Oh crap, don’t look now, Dashwood’s walking up the street.’
    Jacko looked beyond the group to where Tommy indicated. The Lieutenant and his section were indeed walking up the street, and he had a face like thunder. Walking next to him was one of the lads who had witnessed what happened in the house; he must have skipped to the other side of the village to report what had occurred.
    â€˜Bollocks, he looks happy.’
    â€˜Well, that’s that then. We’re in a world of shit now, mucka,’ whispered Jacko. ‘The Dick will go by the book on this one.’ The Dick was the name some of the lads used for Dashwood, a shortened version of his first name – and because he is one.
    â€˜Just keep your gob closed and see where the wind’s blowing,’ whispered Tommy. ‘We can try and figure out what to say back at base. Maybe we can get some witnesses to say what those wankers were doing back there.’
    They reached the group just as the other section did. Before anybody could say anything, Dashwood pointed and said, in a decidedly clipped tone, ‘Sergeant Adams, a word if you please,’ and then moved to a small walled-off area about twenty feet away. Adams stood and, after a bit of wheezing, looked at the two friends, smirked and lumbered off after the Lieutenant with a slight limp.
    All eyes were on Tommy and Jacko, some with pity, some with admiration, some non-committal. The big, strapping lad Terry moved over to them.
    â€˜Best not say anything here, lads, and wait till you get back to base. You know, get your story straight and all that.’ Terry dipped his head and moved back to the group, and on his way accidentally tripped and stood on Dinga’s hand. The screech was quite