The Sleeping Army Awakes

Part 28 Happy landings

The ancient lumbering, yellow and black striped, Sikorsky helicopter, hovered ponderously over the terrain for some time. But for the smoke and noise it emitted, from a distance, it resembled a slow motion film, of some huge mother wasp, desperately seeking a nesting site for her imminently arriving offspring and finding no suitable place, moving on to hover over yet another prospective unsuitable nesting space, and then another, and another.

The pilot, Boris, had swept backwards and forwards across the area looking in vain for a safe landing site. They were all too small, too uneven, or too sloped.

"You bullock. Simply this is useless!" Boris said in his native Slavik. "None of Sir Percy's land is suitable for landing!"

Spencer reluctantly translated this. He hated to be the bearer of bad tidings.

"Just tell the stupid Fredder to land this Fredding thing before I get sea sick." Sir Percy petulantly.

"I think that you will find that the correct phrase is air sick Sir!" Spencer interjected unhelpfully. Sir Percy shot his young secretary a look. Sir Percy hated to be corrected. Spencer hastily added. "But I will do it  directly sir."

"Tell him to land, wherever he can, even if it is on military land! Tell him that if he doesn't do it right now, then he will have to learn to fly without his helicopter... after the guards have removed his entrails and tied them around his neck." Sir Percy asserted. Spencer reluctantly translated this. Once again Spencer hated to be the bearer of bad tidings.

Boris received the threat stoically. "Let it be on his head then, if we get blasted by the navy, you bullock!"

By all rights any chosen landing site should have been on land owned by Sir Percy and nowhere else. The flight plan agreed with the air controllers at the Ministry, before the journey from the airport, had specifically stated that they were to stay away from the military land and if possible, and weather permitting, not even to fly over it, let alone land on it. 

Boris crossed himself as he contacted the distant control tower. "Oscar Lima Alpha niner, niner, niner. Calling Prague tower I have technical problem with engines, always seems these days I do. Target site unsuitable for landing. Request landing on first viable landing site in nearest clearing directly below to sort it out."

He was reluctantly given permission to land but the controller did so with a stark message.

"Oscar Lima Zulu niner, niner, niner. Very well I will try to contact Naval Ministry. But do not waking Sleeping Army you bullock... whatever else you do!" The controller warned cryptically. "Land if you must. Take off again as soon as possible."

"Oscar Lima Zulu niner, niner, niner. If I don't land very soonest then soonest I'll be forced to land, and I will wake dead... not just waking sleeping!" Boris said.

"Oscar Lima Zulu niner, niner, niner. It's your funeral!" The controller said, "But don't say that you weren't warned. Last helicopter that landed there was never seen again! Try getting that old crate of yours properly serviced for once."

"You tell that to to my boss!" Boris laughed.

Spencer had heard the controller's warning about waking the Sleeping Army and shuddered. Sir Percy always liked to live dangerously.

"We've been given permission to land sir!" Spencer informed Sir Percy. "Though they suggested that we get the helicopter fully serviced and that they were reluctant at first to grant permission sir in case we wake the Sleeping Army whatever that might be."

"Excellent! See what can be achieved if you set your mind to it!" Sir Percy said, completely ignoring the comment about the Sleeping Army. "I expect that once they found out who I am they had no alternative but to grant permission."