An Exercise Remembered
by Val
Parnell
In the early seventies, when 3 Commando Brigade was still assigned to NATO’s southern flank, a Brigade rebro detachment was seated on the top of a mountain in Greece awaiting a heliborne evacuation to HMS Fearless. Endex had been called and they were looking forward to a shower, food and a couple of cans of beer.
Locals
from a nearby village had gathered to see them off and as the helicopter made
its approach to pick them up a man in the crowd suddenly cried out.
“Don’t leave me, Sam!” he called through cupped hands. His plea was barely audible above the clatter of the Wessex helicopter as it hovered above us on the mountaintop.
“Get
me out of here, Val”, shouted Sam. We
huddled over our kit as the downdraft from the chopper’s rotor blades tugged
at our clothing and threatened to blow us away.
“Sam!
Stay here with me”. The
man was pleading now, stretching out his arms towards the worried signaller
beside me. “We could be so happy
together” he continued.
A
Navy crewman leaned from the helicopter’s door and gave the thumbs-up sign.
It was time to go. Sam
didn’t wait for the order to move. Scooping
up his pack and rifle, he bounded towards his means of escape.
He was strapped into his seat before the rest of us could climb aboard.
Last
in was Dennis, sorrowfully leaning forward to catch a final glimpse of the young
girl who stood on the edge of the landing-site.
Her eyes were filled with tears. In
her right hand she grasped an English-Greek phrasebook; her left held on to her
mothers’ arm. After a moment, the
mother slowly turned away and led her daughter back along the track towards the
village. Soon they were out of
sight.
The
helicopter lifted off and started down the mountainside towards the sea.
Ahead of us we could see the Fearless shimmering in the Mediterranean
heat. Later that afternoon we
sailed for Athens, blissfully unaware of the girl in the Kaiser Willhelm helmet
and lilac split-crotch knickers who waited for us there.
But that is another story.