connection in the Quick Reaction Force room. They signed up under the name of Natalie, aged nineteen. Natalie had measurements of 34-24-34, and a DD cup size. Then they cut out an extra busty photo of Abi Titmuss from
‘Hi, boys, I’m Nat. I want to meet a hunky soldier serving his country abroad. Fair hair action men please. Blond on blonde action only for this little bazooka.’
It was hilarious, if a little unsubtle.
‘He’ll never go for it, it’s too obvious,’ said Fitz, as he and Chris guffawed their way through the delicate enterprise.
‘Of course he will. He’s Smudger, isn’t he? You wait and see.’
He did go for it. Like a rat up a drainpipe. Smudge couldn’t wait to tell the other lads about his find, and to warn them off her too. Natalie was his.
‘Fucking ’ell, boys, there is the hottest chick you’ve ever seen who’s just come up on the site. She’s after squaddies on Ops too. She looks like a model, fucking unbelievable. Her name is Natalie. Lovely name too, don’t you think? I’ve already messaged her, so none of you bother, OK? Anyway, she only likes blonds, and you’re all too ugly.’
How he didn’t recognize it was Abi Titmuss we had no idea, especially since she was on the front cover of every lads’ magazine around at that time. The reality was he didn’t want to. Natalie was his dream come true.
Sure enough, the next day Natalie messaged Smudge back, with no small amount of giggling coming from the QRF room. In no time at all, they were getting on like a house on fire.
Natalie was keen to know what Smudge had been up to, and what a big brave boy he’d been. Smudge knew he couldn’t give away too many operational details on an open Internet line, but he couldn’t disappoint the poor woman either.
His reply: ‘let’s just say baby that i’ve seen a few things, you know what i mean? of course, i can’t talk about it because it’s top secret. apparently i’m going to get a big bravery medal, and the SAS want to see me too. but i don’t do it for the glory. i do it because someone’s got to keep the world safe haven’t they?’
That had Chris and Fitz rolling around on the floor crying their eyes out.
It was only a matter of time before the messages went dirty. Smudge initiated it, and Natalie was more than happy to take it even dirtier. They discussed their various sexual preferences, with Smudge particularly keen to learn Natalie’s views on one certain position that I thought was still illegal.
Worst of all, he even confessed to wishing he could give himself a blowjob so he could keep himself happy when away on tour.
It went on for a good couple of weeks. Smudge was coming up to his allotted two weeks of R&R. He had an announcement for the platoon.
‘Guess what, lads, Nat’s agreed to spend the whole of my R&R with me. We’re going down to the seaside and we’re going to have two weeks of nonstop perfect sex. Can you fucking believe it! It’s more than just sex though, guys, OK? I’m really falling for her, and she really likes me too. Do you think I should introduce her to my parents yet, or is it too early, Danny?’
‘Oh, er, no, I wouldn’t do that just yet, Smudger. Don’t you want to see your mates instead?’
‘Fuck them. This is the real thing. Look, I’m not going to cut my hair down to the bone any more so I can grow it a bit longer for Nat. She loves it like that. That’s OK with you, isn’t it?’
It was awful. He was head over heels in love with Natalie. He had planned to spend his entire R&R with a stunning woman that only existed inside Chris and Fitz’s heads. Not in their wildest dreams did they ever think they’d get him that badly. Word spread around the whole platoon about Natalie’s real identity, so everyone was now having a good laugh behind poor old Smudge’s back.
As the platoon commander, I did my best to stay aloof from the wind-up. It was going to end in tears sooner or later, and as the responsible one it was best I stayed out of it. But I couldn’t resist having a peek in every now and then.
As his R&R date got closer, Smudge spent more and more time in the washing block perfecting the best look for Natalie. At last the day itself came, and he sorted out his best civvies for the occasion. Nat had even offered to meet him off the plane at Brize Norton.
A few of us made a deputation to Chris and Fitz.
‘Look, you two, you’ve got to fucking tell him before he leaves. What happens when he turns up at Brize and she’s not there? Chris?’
‘I know, I know, Dan. We have to. I just can’t think how the fuck we’re going to do it.’
They decided there was no point in beating around the bush with it. In what was supposed to be Smudge’s very last online conversation with Natalie before they were due to meet, Chris and Fitz chucked in the hand grenade.
This is how their last messaging went.
Smudge: ‘can’t wait to see you tomorrow baby. you got the instructions through from me on how to get there ok yeah?’
Natalie: ‘yes i did, my little warrior. but there’s just one problem.’
Smudge: ‘what’s that baby?’
Natalie: ‘i’m not going to be there darling.’
Smudge: ‘why not??’
Natalie: ‘because i don’t exist. this is chris and fitz in the QRF room, and it has been all along, YOU FUCKING KNOB!!!!!’
I was in the QRF room with them. Smudge was in the Internet room alone. There was silence from it for a good thirty seconds. It took a little time for what he had just read to actually sink in. Then we heard a chair hurled on the floor, a couple of screamed expletives, and the rapid thump of boots down the corridor.
Smudge kicked the QRF room’s door open so hard it practically came off its hinges. His face was puce with rage. Not only had the woman of his dreams just disappeared in a puff of electronic smoke, but he’d got nothing planned for his R&R any more — and he was the laughing stock of the whole platoon. He went crazy.
‘You fucking
‘Er, yeah, we know, Smudge. We were on the other end, remember. Look, relax. It was only a joke…’
But Smudge was gone. He kicked the iron bunk beds, stamped a wooden chair to bits and repeatedly punched the walls. Then he ran out into Cimic’s garden, where he sat for an awful long time, until his transport arrived to Slipper City and the flight home. He was truly heartbroken.
19
When Smudge came back from R&R two weeks later, he’d relaxed a bit. He never really saw the funny side of the joke, but at least he’d stopped breaking things whenever Natalie was mentioned. It also helped considerably that, despite his terrible grief, he’d also managed to pull a half-decent bird while he was on leave.
More importantly, he brought back with him an update from the hospitals in the UK on all the serious casualties we had suffered.
Private Beharry had been downgraded from VSI (very seriously ill) to just SI. That meant there was a decent chance he’d live, but nobody knew in what state yet.
Adam Llewellyn, who got petrol bombed, was going to be OK too. He was having skin grafts. Baz Bliss, who took a slug in the lung, had lost a lot of weight but was doing well too, and Kev Phillips, who got shot in the neck with the CO on 18 April, was shaping up the best of all. The nutter had even already got a tattoo of the words ‘entry’ by the scar on his neck where the bullet went in, and ‘exit’ over the scar on his shoulder where the round had left his body.
Pikey also went away for R&R around the same time. He hadn’t pulled, but he was just as chuffed because he’d had a decent pub fight instead. True to form, he’d also managed to lug back with him seventy-five trendy shirts, the sort of things you’d wear to a glitzy party. He just couldn’t help himself.
‘What are you going to do with that lot, Pikey?’ I asked. ‘This is the desert you know. There isn’t a nightclub
