Army Of Angels (A Glanny Fan Fiction)

Chapter Seven

Army Of Angels

Chapter Seven.

June 1990:

"I spent a month in Ètaples and I tell you if I thought the training camp in London was bad enough then Ètaples had nothing on that camp. Training was more rigid than I had ever experienced before," I said.

"So what battalion were you a part of?"

"Well after my month in Ètaples I was put in the 18th Battalion, Manchester Regiment," I said.

"But, forgive me for asking but wasn't that the Regiment that-" he started.

"Ah! Please don't ask questions like that. I will give the answers to you but if you ask questions like that that are part of my story then I shall stop you," I said.

"Ok. So what made Ètaples so different?"

"Ètaples turned recruits... Into soldiers," I answered.

"When I arrived at Ètaples I thought that I was fairly good in my general fitness. Mark and Wilfred thought so too but when we arrived even General O'Donoghue had to be brought up to the French soldiers' overall fitness. Which is why we spent around about a month there. Field exercises, drills and even route-marching was okay. We learnt those in a matter of days. It was our overall fitness and hand to hand combat that we had to bring up to standards. Mark was a little reluctant at first. He didn't see what hand to hand combat had to do with fighting a war that involved tanks guns and bombs," I started.

October 1914:

"Excuse moi Monsieur Power," a French private said and I stepped out of his path. I was in my quarters that I shared with Mark Wilfred and the French Private. We don't talk as much mainly because we don't speak French and he doesn't speak English. Maybe that's something I will learn on my journey to wherever it is that i am going.

"Look sharp Power!" Said General O'Donoghue from outside of the door.

"What do you want?" I shouted back.

"Hand to hand combat. You need some pointers. I'm coming in," he said.

The door slammed open and General O'Donoghue entered. He was a dark shape in the light. Or was he the light in the dark. Right now he's the first option. The dark in the light.

"What do you mean? Pointers?" I asked.

General O'Donoghue entered the room. His boots squeaked with antiquity. The floorboards of my quarters matched his boots' squeaks. The light from the door that stood ajar seeped into the room lighting the dust particles in the air. Making me aware that it's not only elements that I am breathing in but particles of whatever dust is made of too.

"You are one of the best recruits I have had the pleasure to instruct,"

"Right?"

"But that doesn't mean that you're perfect. I'm not perfect as you know. I've had to bring my general fitness up a notch to match those French guys. But I tell you something Power. Your hand combat is something left to be desired," he said and gave me a stern look mixed with worry.

"What would I use hand combat for?" I asked angrily.

General O'Donoghue walked up to look me in the face. I had to look up slightly as he had a positional advantage that I can never beat. Height.

"Imagine this scenario. I am a German soldier-"

"Guzentag," I said with a smirk.

General O'Donoghue gripped my arm tightly making sure to dig his nails in. His face was twisted with part amusement and part anger.

"This is not a game Power. You should know that by now. This is war. Now as I was saying, I am a German soldier. We are in No Mans Land and we have both lost our guns. You have two options. You fight to the death or you fight to injure and then run before any more German troops find you. What do you choose?" He asked.

"The latter," I said confidently.

"Not bloodthirsty I see. If I'd asked any other British troop they'd have said to the death," he said.

"I guess I'm not most recruits,"

Out of no where General O'Donoghue's fist came out of no where and collided with my jaw. I stumbled backwards and my body hit the bunk which I toppled on.

"What was that for!?" I asked.

"You need pointers. Your reaction time is disastrous,"

"Pointers!" I gasped.

"Yes,"

"You think punching me in the jaw is going to give me pointers?"

"Well look at this way. You already know one thing to improve on!"

"You're utterly and completely mad!"

"You want to learn the hard way then that's fine. I just thought you had more brains in you than that," General O'Donoghue said and turned to leave.

I gritted my teeth and pulled myself into a standing position I ran forward and drew my arm back before punching the General right in the back of the head.

"Christ!" He shouted and his hand found its way to the area I had punched him before he spun on his heels and turned to face me.

"Nice punch. Good power, Power," he said with a smile.

"I am so sorry!" I exclaimed.

The general raised an eyebrow.

"It's just. You made me mad and I wanted to prove to you that I could stand up for myself and that I have the brains to know what to do and when to do it,"

"If I were a German would you be saying sorry for punching me in the back of the head?" General O'Donoghue asked.

I shuffled backwards slightly and looked down at the dusty floorboards.

"No. I wouldn't," I said.

"Know what to say and when to say it Power,"

Mark came running into the room but stopped dead when he saw General O'Donoghue in the room.

"Sir!" He said and straightened his posture immediately and gave him a salute. General O'Donoghue gave him a quick nod.

"Remember what I said Power," he said before leaving.

Mark looked between the now empty door way and me several times before turning his attention back on to me. He rushed forward and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Guess who's going to the Divisional Depot?" He said excitedly.

"You I'm guessing," I said.

"And you. I thought that's what O'Donoghue was telling you about. I say. What happened to your jaw?" He asked.

I instantly felt the now tender area and winced.

"General O'Donoghue was giving me private hand to hand combat lessons," I said grimly and saw Mark's face change to that of shock.

"Don't worry I gave as good as I got. On the back of his head," I said with a wry smile.

Mark laughed slightly and removed his hands from my shoulders.

"Divisional depot. You. Me. Wilfred. Oh and O'Donoghue," he said.

"Didn't they say it'd all be over by Christmas?"

"It's only October now. You wait. In a two months we'll be back home sipping wine and being jolly for Christmas!" Mark said.

Mark said that like he believed it would be true. I, however, wasn't so sure about that.