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Five miles SW of Vormundberg, Germany: 0214hrs. 19th April.

CSM Probert had brought his men in by groups from the Final RV, placing them into a formation that was triangular in shape, with gun groups at each tip.

The size of the position was dictated by the ground and its available cover, which in this instance gave them a perimeter roughly seventy-five metres long on each side.

They were inside a mixed forest, tall pine trees in managed blocks were a firebreak away from older deciduous and commercially unviable species of conifers that had existed here long before human exploitation had arrived. The ambush site was within a block of the tall pines with forty or so metres of recently deforested ground separating them from the logging track the enemy recce patrol had used. Beyond that track, up a low bank of sand and shingle was an area occupied by shorter elm, birch and scrub oak, with gorse in clumps stretching away to the next plantation block.

Eight of the riflemen formed the flanking sides, and the bulk were positioned along the triangles base, in a line that ran parallel to the track. The centre of that line was the ‘killer group’, with two additional gimpies on loan from the other two platoons for the duration of the ambush, and the gun groups at the flanking corners of the base were his early warning/cut off groups. It was a formation that provided flank security and a strong rear protection from counter attack.

As with any night operation, solid command and control was essential, and Colin had reorganised the platoon into six groups, killer, left cut off, right cut off, left flank, right flank and rear protection. He only had four junior NCOs so his left flank was commanded by a buckshee Guardsman with a good head on his shoulders.

Each of these sub unit commanders had a PRC 349 on the platoon net, but all signals would be via communications cord, and Colin would decide when radio silence was to be broken.

The centre of the triangle was empty of men, holding only their bergens in a long line awaiting retrieval by the owners; an event which would not take place should the patrol need to make a fighting withdrawal. That eventuality would occur if they found they had bitten off far more than they could chew, such as bumping the point section of a larger element, rather than another fighting patrol of inferior size.

Such was the state of stores within the NATO forces that batteries for the night viewing aids were in chronically short supply, and there were only a half dozen with the patrol, all of which were switched off to conserve their power supply until needed. It was back to basics time, where the human ear and the Mk 1 eyeball were the only senses the soldiers had.

The rain had begun to fall as a fine drizzle during the placing of Claymore mines and manually operated flares outside the perimeter of the position, and with it a strong breeze brought the chill from the still icy north back to the hills and woods of this part of Germany.

Without having to employ a second flare stake and its tripwire, it took a fraction of the time to set up the flare pots to provide illumination on demand, by the simple means of a length of communications cord clamped to the pots base and running back to the ambushers position where a simple tug on the cord would set off the pot.

The Claymores were a different matter and had to be sited with care in order to maximise the effects, and Colin strayed from recommended methods described in the manuals in order to achieve that aim in one or two instances.

Ignoring the idiots guide printed on the inside of the bandoleer, which he knew by heart anyway, Colin and the commanders of each group had gone forward to site the weapons.

He sited his mines starting with the furthest and working in, so he picked his way cautiously along the track he hoped the enemy would appear from, alert for movement until he found what he was seeking.

Colin had personally tested each clicker and coil of cable after drawing the weapons from the Q Bloke, but he wasn’t minded to tempt the laws of Murphy.

Leaving the mine for the moment he removed the cable and M40 test set from the bandoleer and a clicker from a smock pocket. The dust cover from the clicker’s connector was placed between his lips for safe keeping along with the test set’s female connector cover. Plugging the test set into the clicker he moved the safety bail to the Fire position and unzipped his smock, placing them inside the folds and squeezed the clicker, receiving a flash of light from the test set that only he could see. His next act was to remove to cables protective shorting plug and insert the ends into the test set, the other loose ends went into the clicker and the test set went back into his smock where he sent another electrical pulse from the clicker to ensure the cable was still viable.

Disconnecting the clicker and test set he took the small covers back from between his lips and replaced them along with the shorting plug.

Replacing the safety on the clicker he tucked it back into his smock pocket and removed the Claymore and placed it against the base of a tree and adjusted the angle slightly before pressing down firmly, sinking its legs into the soft ground.

A protruding tree root served as anchor for the cable and a figure of eight knot ensure the cable ends couldn’t be accidentally pulled from the mines detonator well.

The shipping plug primer adapter secured the blasting caps in their wells after he had removed them from the bandoleer and carefully inserted them, which left him the quick task of camming the mine up before unreeling the cable back through the trees at an angle to the track.

Six more mines later and Colin had been reasonably happy with their ability to both kill however came along the track, and get themselves out of trouble if his plans went to total rat shit.

Brecon does not teach optimism, it enforces the maxim that no plan survives first contact with the enemy, and that if you prepare for the worst then anything less will be a piece of piss, in short, pessimism counts.

Sixteen of the 3.5 lb weapons were placed about the location but the CQMS had only been able to provide three ‘Clickers’, M57 firing devices, the hand generator that sends a double three volt pulse along the command wire to the mines. Colin had three clickers of his own that he had ‘acquired’ over the years, and a further four he had borrowed from other individuals in the unit. The commanders on either flank and the gun group Commander on rear protection each had three Claymores to control and Colin was confident that they could manage that number with one clicker each, he on the other hand had seven mines and had a firing device attached to each command wire. Part of Colin’s earlier preparation back in the company location had been to ensure that he knew which clicker was which in the dark, and this he accomplished by waterproofing grains of rice from unused boil in the bag rations. Having dripped candle wax over the grains he held them in place on the sides of the clickers with masking tape, so he could tell by the number of lumps under the tape which clicker was which in the pitched dark by touch alone. If all went well then the patrol would retrieve the unused mines just prior to withdrawal.

At 0023hrs, with the Claymores in place and the firing circuits tested, Colin had reported back to Company HQ with a brief transmission, a codeword informing them his callsign had gone firm and were ready for business.

Over the following two hours the breeze became a wild thing and the drizzle a downpour that the men had to ignore and endure, as the cold earth sapped the heat from their un-insulated bodies.