Vengeance is Mine

            The few spots of rain that were falling as they had entered the club had now turned into a downpour as the Platoon turned left into the confusion of narrow streets and back alleys of the old Ardoyne. A group of men huddled close to a wall, shielding themselves against the rain, quickly melted away down the dark alleys as they approached.  No traffic on the roads.  It was dangerous to drive in this area at night, only the occasional twitch of a curtain showing the light behind it indicated any signs of life.

            Duck into one doorway, watch, then onto another.  Up a back alley: no cover, just walls and dustbins.  Darkness, nerves on edge.  One Section left, Two Section right up the dimly-lit street – be wary of that lone parked car in front of that derelict,

boarded up building; give it a wide berth just in case.  Soggy notebook out and take its number for the files.  See no-one, talk to no-one, not at night.  All the time the rain lashes down. In an hour you are soaked; after two, you are drowning.

            It was times like these that bothered Ray most. There was a tendency to switch off; put the mind in neutral, and suffer. The men had to be kept alert and focussed, demanding all the reserves of concentration the NCOs had to do so. By the end of a shift you were drained with the effort.

           The Platoon turned back towards the mill, the route bringing them back to the waste ground behind the Republican club.  The high gable end of a vacant warehouse shielded the area from the streetlights.  Gorham halted the patrol and sent the runner for Ray.

            What the Hell did he want now?  Only a hundred yards from a beer and warm bed.  He made his way back and knelt beside Gorham amongst the clutter of empty casks and bins strewn along the rear wall of the club.  At least tomorrow was an administration day.  Eight hours kip and clean gear.  Ray checked his watch – ten minutes to midnight.

            “Corporal Charlton, I’m going to get another look in the club to see who the hangers-on are.”  He continued before Ray could speak, “There’s a fanlight about twenty feet down the roof, so all I’ll need is a bunk up.  A quick shufti then home.  Let’s go”.  They moved back down the windowless wall, the corrugated gutter -less roof sending piss -like steams of water down on them as they crouched below the fanlight.

            Gorham signalled he wanted a lift up.  Putting his back to the wall and clasping his hands to receive Gorham’s right boot, Ray braced himself for the lift.  One big heave and Gorham was standing on his shoulders frantically trying to gain a purchase on the slippery iron roof.  A boot caught him a sliding blow on the right side of his face as the Boss levered his body up and over the edge and out of sight.  Ray leaned back against the wall listening to him inching his way up to the fanlight.  Eve