When the stars threw down their
spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his
work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
William Blake
CHAPTER 33 THE REDHORN GATE
“No of course I want to come. I’ve got the camera and all. I mean it’s not often clerks at my grade get along to these things,” said John Gilchrist as he edged down the length of the minibus.
“I’m pleased you feel that way,” said Colonel Moriarty, as he sat just behind the driver, “I feel the whole team should feel involved, and why shouldn’t you see the fruits of our labour? You work just as hard as everyone else.”
“Well thanks anyway.” John imagined the Colonel had been to some sort of course on enthusing your civvies. “May I sit here?”
“Well, John.” smiled Rubber Boobs “I don’t know I’m sure.”
“Then I will.”
The driver, a young Captain who’d past the necessary certificates on health and safety in small passenger vehicles, drove down to the gate, exchanged info with a gate guard and drove towards Stonehenge and the A360 north.
“No stop it.” Whispered Rubber Boobs.
“I've got to try the camera out on something.”
“Let me see.” She watched the small screen. “It’s your daughter. She’s getting quite old now.”
“Yeah. University next year.”
“Clever eh.”
“Oh yeah. Gets it from her Mum. She’s always done all the business side of things.”
“While you mess around with sex and drugs and rock and role. You’ve got it made haven’t you.”
“Yeah. I suppose I have.”
In West Lavington they turned right at Dauntseys School and drove through the villages below the northern scarp of Salisbury Plain.
“Sounds like they don’t know which way it is.” said Rubber Boobs.
“Oh here we go.”
The mini bus slowly revved its way up a narrow lane towards the Plain, up into the free air, sheep shorn grass and views for eternity.
“Ooh there’s lots here,” said Rubber Boobs
They all crouched and stumbled out of the little bus, and stood in the gravel park with more buses and army trucks.
“Sir.” Saluted someone in army camouflage “If you please Sir, the presentation will be given by the bunker there Sir.”
“Thank you.” Saluted Colonel Moriarty “Right you mob. This way.”
They crossed the mud and grass towards a large truck looking something like an old phoenix launcher, with a long guide rail slopping from ground level up over the cab roof into the air.
Young enthusiastic people clambered about the thing and explained what was supposed to happen.
“Do you understand any of this?” asked Rubber boobs.
“Sort of. The yellow bit at the back is just an old missile that is going to push the red bit up to four times the speed of sound. Then the red bit is supposed to go up into the sky at a forty five degree angle and then come down over there somewhere. I think he said it’s where shells from the guns at Larkhill land.”
“Oh.”
“Hallo there. I'm Miles McLaren,” said a young guy smiling at Rubber Boobs bust.
“Hi. Maybe you can tell me all about this.” she smiled back.
“I'd love to. Walk this way.”
There was a scruffy looking guy with burnt patches and tears on his overalls and what might be singed ends to his hair and beard. “All right then? All right? I’m the range safety officer. So if you have an invite you can go in the VIP bunker there. All right? The rest of you are going to have to get behind that blast wall over there. All right? I’ll be sounding this horn “ He held up an aerosol driven fog horn and pressed the button. “Like that. All right? When the thing is going to go off. All right? So if you could all go over there. All right?
They wandered behind the
thick lichen covered blast walls beside the technical caravans, and
stood on fag ends and rabbit droppings. John glimpsed people inside,
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