A Yank in the SAS (Mac 'n Jack)

[Mac Bargett]

The South Wales Borderers

These words headed the stationary that Sgt. Mac Bargett’s transfer papers were written on. Sgt. Bargett stared at nothing else during the trip to the town the SWB were stationed Of course, there really wasn’t much to look at in the back of the deuce and a half truck that Mac rode in with the other replacements, like the replacement rifles, replacement uniforms, and the replacement bullets. The replacement sergeant was halfway through the transfer paper for the 50th time when the trucked stopped.

Mac stood up to get out when the curtain was pushed back and the tailgate was lowered, but a bunch of men in t-shirts and khakis jumped into the bed and pulled crates and ammo boxes up for more men to carry off. These men were very efficient, clearing the truck of the crates and themselves faster then Mac could compose a question to ask them.

But, before he lifted a large metal crate of Coca-Cola, the last man turned to Mac and pointed to his left, “End of the road sarge, the pub’s over there. You should find some of your men there to take to your barracks.”

Before Mac could say anything in response, the man had walked off with the crate, and Mac jumped off the truck, grabbed his pack and started to walk down the street.

He spent the next 5 minutes admiring the local architecture before he came upon the lively pub. After he opened the door, Mac tried to do his best cowboy when he strutted over to the bar and laid his helmet on the counter to get the bartender’s attention. When the man looked in his general direction, Mac addressed him in the gruffest voice he could use,

“Barman, are there any men from the South Wales Borderers here?”

[jackomac]

The typically cold British weather was enough to put off anyone going outside today. "And Hitler wants to invade this country?" he thought to himself. "If i was him id stick with France and Africa. At least they get weather over 15C around summer time"

Jack was sitting in pub murmuring to himself that he had to be the one to met up with the new guy. He had been told to wait here, in this grotty little pub. "A man should come in within the next hour or so and start asking about the south wales borderer's" his lieutenant had told him. "Who are the south wales borderer's, sir? And why do i have to meet this guy?" he had replied. "Because of these" the lieutenant had replied giving him a sheet of papers. "I recommended you for a new division that is being created, good luck Jack, you've been a great solider to fight with."

He had read the papers on his way to a small town in the back of his jeep. They were papers calling him to travel to Africa to be part of training for the new 1 SAS regiment. He had never been to Africa before but had heard all the horror story's from desert rats that had lost legs and now spent there time in pubs, being bought drinks by people eager to hear all his war stories. "So why has this guy been told this bullshit about the south wales borderer's?" he said to his old lieutenant. "To keep it all hush hush, he was given his transfer papers in his old barracks and if he let his mates read it then who knows how quick it could have spread." replied the lieutenant.

Upon getting to the bar he shook hands with his lieutenant. "You sure this transfer is a good thing?" said Jack, feeling tears form in his eyes. "Yer, rumors are that this is division is gunna push the war in allied favors." They had parted without to many words. Jack liked the lieutenant, they had been mates since before they joined the army, but Jack couldn't help but get the feeling that the lieutenant was putting him out to the dogs.

He had walked into the bar and looked about, there was nobody in here with a solider uniform on. Jack just had to wait here and tell the guy the real deal when he got here. He walked up to the barman. "Hey mate, can i have a pint" said jack grumpily. "Coming right up mate." said the barman with a rough welsh accent. The barman came trudging back and said "here ya go mate." "Thanks" replied Jack handing him some change, "and by the way mate, if some one comes in asking about the south wales borderer's, the just point them over to me, il be sitting over there" said Jack pointing to the corner. The barman nodded and Jack went over and sat in the corner, sipping his beer and waiting for this Sargent to enter the pub...



//*-+-*// Jmac //*-+-*//

[Mac Bargett]

Sgt. Mac Bargett repeated his question with a harsher tone, “Barman! Are there any men from the South Wales Borderers here? Also, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would like a coke, a cola.” The barkeep replied with a grunt and a simple point across the room, crowded with townsfolk, to the only other man in a uniform. While the barman opened a soda and sat it on the bar, Mac grabbed his wallet and pulled out a funny looking bill. and gave the bartender a “Thanks,” before he replaced the coke bottle with the fiver. The bartender picked up the money, looked at it for a bit, smiles and called out a “Anytime, mate,” before Mac disappeared into the crowd in the direction of his comrade in arms.

“Sergant?” Mac kept his cowboy tone as he stood in front of the man the barkeep pointed out, “You in the South Wales Borderers? I’m Sgt. Mac Bargett, your replacement.” He took a swig from the bottle and savored the taste of America. After pausing to reminisce of home, he continued, “I hope you are the one who can explain why a red-blooded American such as myself has been transferred to a Welsh unit.”

[jackomac]

Jack was looking down at the crossword he was doing, utterly frustrated by 7 down he looked around the bar. Still no sign of the new guy, the pub was slowly filling up and the thick smog of smoke was starting to become unpleasant. Jack had never taken to smoking and hated the smell of it. He looked down at the crossword again.

He had just finished his second pint and was about to get up for his third when a stereotypical American cowboy voice said “Sergeant? You in the South Wales Borderer's? I’m Sgt. Mac Bargett, your replacement.” Jack looked up to see a yank of all people. "Well theres something i wasn't told" he thought to himself. The American continued “I hope you are the one who can explain why a red-blooded American such as myself has been transferred to a Welsh unit.”

"Of course" he replied standing up and scrutinizing American. "Take a seat" said Jack gesturing toward the seat next to him. "Well i suppose in short, the explanation is, your not being transfered to a welsh regiment" He paused, savoring the yanks look of confusion. "Its a cover story, sit down il get you a drink, you'll need something stronger than that when you hear this" said Jack with a smile pointing at the coke. "What can i get you? Beer? Cider? I'm Jack by the way" He continued holding out a hand for the American to shake.



//*-+-*// Jmac //*-+-*//

[Mac Bargett]

The uniformed man looked up from up his newspaper and stood up as he spoke to Mac , “Of course. Take a seat.”

“Well, if it means I’m going to get some answers. I don’t mind if I do, partner.”
Mac pulled two chairs away from the table, and placed his pack on one and his bum on the other. He held his coke in his left hand as he crossed his arms, and waited to know all about the SWB.

Once Mac was settled, the man began, "Well I suppose in short, the explanation is, your not being transferred to a welsh regiment"

Mac cocks his head to one side as a look of confusion appeared his face. “This man probably wasn’t in the SWB“, he thought. “He’s just a drunken soldier. Mac stood up to get his transfer papers.

But before Mac grabbed his pack, the man continued, "Its a cover story, sit down I’ll get you a drink, you'll need something stronger than that when you hear this,” the man smiles and points at Mac’s coke. "What can i get you? Beer? Cider? I'm Jack by the way".

Mac reached over and gave the man a firm handshake, “Like I said, the name’s Mac. And if you can promise me that the cider is none of that pasteurized crud, I’ll have a glass of that. But I'd rather if you'd be so kind as to continue your story.”

[jackomac]

"Of course" replied Jack, then, calling over to the barman he said "a cider and another beer over here please" there was a grunt from the barman as Jack sat back down and saw that the American had done so as well. "Well, first of all i have these for you, they are your real transfer papers, he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and placed them on the table. It had the words *For The Eyes of Sgt. Mac Bargett Only* stenciled on it in red letters.

The barman trudged over with two glasses in his hand and placed them on the table. Jack handed him some change and looked back at the Yank who was picking up his envelope. Taking a large mouthful from his beer he said "ever been to Africa? Partner" he said this last word in his best imitation American accent. Without waiting for a response he continued "like i said its a cover, we have actually been assigned to a new unit call 1 SAS. There a secret unit, small but hard hitting sorta thing, hit and run if you like. Thats all that i have been told, its all very hush, hush and we have been asked to keep it under our hats for the time being." He paused, taking another long refreshing mouthful of beer and waiting for the Sargent to respond.




//*-+-*// Jmac //*-+-*//

[Mac Bargett]

“Well I’ll be,“ Mac remarked once the man had finished. He began to open the envelope, but on second thought, “I’ll open this when my eyes are the only ones around. And ‘have I ever been to Africa?’ Well, heck I’ve never left the tri-state area until my liberty ship arrived in your port last month.” He completely missed the mockery and put the envelope into his jacket while he picked up the cider. He looked through it, before he poured it down his throat.

After a moment where he savored the taste, The drink caused him to cough and gag for a bit, before he took a big breath and stared at the few sips remaining in the glass, “You could have told me it was going to be hard cider. I haven’t had anything that strong since the October Apple Festival 2 years ago!” He laughed, downed the last drops of cider, and motioned for the bartender to get another. He quickly got serious and brought his speech down to a whisper, “So you’re saying, son, we’re not gonna be part of the normal army? How secret are we? Are we going to be blowin‘ up bridges and sneakin‘ through minefields in Hitler’s backyard before this man‘s army even sets down in Europe?”

[jackomac]

The yank could certainly hold his drink. Jack watched him as he downed his whole pint of cider in a few seconds and called for a second. Against his own will, Jack was rather taking to him. Jack wasn't really listening but looking at the menu as the American was going on about some beer festival or something. He looked up to see if the barman was coming over yet.

He started listening as the American said “so you’re saying, son, we’re not gonna be part of the normal army? How secret are we? Are we going to be blowin‘ up bridges and sneakin‘ through minefields in Hitler’s backyard before this man‘s army even sets down in Europe?” "Well, no not really." Jack replied "not unless Hitler moves his backyard to Africa, like i said we are going to be mainly in Africa not Europe. But then again, only time will tell. We have got plane arriving tomorrow to take us to Gibraltar, from there we take a boat over the med to Africa."

He fell silent as the barman turned up "Heres you cider mate" he said in his welsh grunt. "And you left this at the bar" he continued, putting down a helmet on the table. Jack looked at the helmet, it wasn't his, it must belong to the yank. He looked up at the barman and said "can i have another beer and one sausage and mash please." "Course" grunted the barman, taking out his notepad and jotting something down "and for you sir" the barman continued looking at Sargent Mac...




//*-+-*// Jmac //*-+-*//

[Mac Bargett]

Asked what he wanted to eat in a foreign bar, Mac strained his brain for something English.
The alcohol didn’t help. “Eh… fish… ’n chips. Mate. And thanks for getting the helmet. And the drinks. Cheers.” Mac raised the cider to the bartender, smiled, and took a sip. The bartender nodded as he wrote down the food choice and grunted , “Hmm. Cheers,” before walking back to the bar.

Mac finished his long sip and tried to asked another question, “So Jack…” But a small voice in the back of his head screamed, “Airplane. Tomorrow,” and “Hangover.” Mac tried his best to finish the sentence, and he lost a bit of his southern accent in the process, “If we’re being shipped out tomorrow, am I going to have any time to meet the other guys in the unit? Like a superior. Or am I going to be thrown into combat with men I know nothing about, and they know nothing about me? I really don’t want to fight side by side and beneath people I don’t trust and would not want to risk my life with.” Mac reached out to grab his drink, but the alcoholic curtain of distrust and paranoia opened and he dropped his hand down, “Or am I going to meet the team in Africa?”

[jackomac]

"Well I'm not sure myself, says here" said Jack pulling out his own transfer papers and looking at them "you will be put under the command of lieutenant Aiden Jacka" he looked up "I've never heard of him, i kinda hoped you would be able to spread some light on the guy" He took another long mouthful of the cool amber liquid, nearly emptying the glass, then kicked back into talk mode "But i would guess we would be meeting up with the rest of the division in Africa, if we fly out tomorrow then that doesn't leave much time for meeting people" he finished and downed the last bit of his drink.

"So" he continued "which division you from? Some fine red-blooded American one i expect" he said, a cheeky smile crossing onto his face. He looked over at the barman, seeing if the food was coming up, he was starving.


//*-+-*// Jmac //*-+-*//

[Mac Bargett]

As Jack explained that he, like Mac, had no idea what was going on Mac continues to sip from the brandy. And so once Mac was asked what division he was in, he was soused. As he gripped the table to make sure the room didn’t fall apart, Mac leaned in close to give his answer, “Indeed, my unit was the red-bloodedest of them all. I was a member of honorable 1st Infantry Division. Back when I was in the 1st Infantry Division we called it the Big Red One because that was our arm patch. My father was in that same unit, the First Infantry Division. He always told me that the US army was made up of the Big Red One and a million replacements. I guess now that I’m not in the First Infantry Division. I’m just a replacement now. What unit were you in? Was it the First Infantry Division? That was the unit I was in. Boy, I haven’t drank anything this good since I was drafted. My father told me that when I get into the First Infantry Division that my new vice will be killin’ not drinkin‘” Mac sat back in his chair, content with his little biography.

[jackomac]

As Jack finished his speech the Sargent burst into his, in a very drunk voice he told Jack about a division called the big red one and about his father. Jack wasn't really listening that much but looking over at the bar, waiting for the sight of the food he was longing for. He saw the kitchen door open and heard the momentary sounds of cooking from inside before it swung shut, the had come through it holding there two meals.

Just as this was happening he heard Sargent Mac say "so what division are you from?" Just as the barman came to the table "one fish n chips, one sausage n mash. That £5.40" Jack got some money out of his pocket and handed it to the barman saying "keep the change."

He picked up his knife and fork, cut the end of one the sausages and put it in his mouth hungrily. The barman said gruffly "anyfing else?" "Er...yes, il have have another beer, thanks" speaking through his second mouthful of sausage. He looked back at Mac, I'm from "I'm from the guards, maybe not as red-blooded as the big red one but still a great bunch of guys." He paused to have another mouthful of his food. He lent a bit closer to Mac "So you don't reckon we have been sailed up the river a bit, i mean all the horror stories about desert warfare, about fighting on 70 degree heat, no cover for miles around, guns alway breaking because of sand getting in them. Doesn't exactly sound like a hoot and a half."




//*-+-*// Jmac //*-+-*//

[Mac Bargett]

Mac Bargett thanked the barman when the fish and chips were placed in front of him. He took a long sniff of the delicious meal before he grabbed his knife and spoon. Mac tried to hold the fish down with the spoon as he cut it with the knife, but he realized his mistake and replaced the spoon with the fork. This proved to be the proper eating arrangement. Although Mac continued to have difficulties with his hand-mouth coordination he ate quickly as Jack talked about his belief on the North African situation.

When he was done eating and Jack was done talking, Mac put down the utensils, swallowed the food in his mouth, and gave his slurred input on the subject, “Well, those stories the vets tell may be true, but, at the Nazis are in the same boat going up the same river that we are. They are no more suited to the heat and sand that we are. All we need are some tanks, some water, and a few thompsons and we’ll get the job done.” He picked up the knife and fork again to eat more food but found his plate empty, so he put down the utensils and checked his watch, “So, where can a dogface get some sleep before we ship out to Africa?”

[jackomac]

Jack was finishing his sausage and mash, and listening to yanks opinion on the Africa business. The smoke, emanating mainly from a few overweight men in the corner was beginning to get unpleasant now and Jack was glad when Mac said "So, where can a dog face get some sleep before we ship out to Africa?" "I'll show you" replied Jack. He downed the last bit of his drink, left a tip on the table and stood up. "The barracks round here are pretty nice, enough to sleep and eat in at any rate" said Jack walking through the bar and up to the door.

He held his breath as they walked past the overweight gentlemen in the corner and was happy to get a bit of fresh air in his lungs when they stepped out side, but was not to pleased that he had forgot his coat when he felt the cold night air hit his skin. "Hope that fine British meal gave you some energy, we got a bit of a walk ahead of us" he said cheerily to Mac; and with he turned and started walking into the night.


//*-+-*// Jmac //*-+-*//

[Mac Bargett]

Mac pulled himself out of the chair and drunkenly grabbed for his helmet and pack. It took him a few minutes to get the helmet on his head and his arms through the correct straps of the pack. He drunkenly waddled through the crowded pub. Once he got out of the bar without knocking into too many patrons, he tried to run and catch up with Jack who was already a bit ahead of him. This attempt ended with Mac falling flat on his face, but he shakily got back up and dusted himself off and tried again. This time he was successful in catching up with Jack, and for the rest of the way Mac leaned on Jack for support.