The Devil you know.

“With Immediate Effect”

Thu, 13 Aug 2009 10:57:06 +0200

Boss looked at the message in his hands, then up from where he was sat at his desk to the expectant faces of Skit, Hazel, Ruby, Flyboy and Doc.

They all sat facing him in his little office, looking a little worried.

“As you know the rest of the squadron are starting to gather in the briefing room as requested, but I wanted you lot to hear this first. You have been here since the start of this madness, the last of the first so to speak, so I thought it fair. Oh course if I had been able to have this meeting yesterday Snowy would still be here.”

He paused; the message in his hand was shaking almost imperceptibly.

“This arrived this morning. Basically with immediate effect the squadron is stood down and all pilots will return to their homes”

The pause that followed was a lot longer than Boss expected, so he dropped a comment into it.

“We won.”

That broke open the floodgates.

“Bloody hell! I was just getting used to all this.”

“Won! But there were two squadrons of the bastards yesterday!”

“Thank fuck!”

“Yay drinkie time!”

All delivered at once.

“Ok, yes I know. Well I don’t actually know how we did it but we appear to have done it. So you can all go home. You have been here far too long and survived too much for the next bit. There will be a token force of six planes left behind to cover the border until we can be sure the situation is stable, just patrol flights to be sure. Probably this will be disbanded after a year. I am going to ask for volunteers in the main meeting but none of you have to…”

At the word “Volunteer” all the pilots hands had shot up.

“No. You have all done enough. Let the newer guys have a go”

“Oh right” Said Ruby, “So you are not staying on then? You don’t get rid of us that easy”

“Well yes I am but I don’t think I can remember how to do anything else but fly…”

“Then we stay too. Until the very end” said Hazel “right guys?”

“Oh yeppers. Count me in!” said Skit.

“What the nutter said” came from Flyboy.

Doc looked at them all and quietly muttered,

“You are all bloody mad. Passing up an opportunity to go home…..I’d better get an order for sedatives placed right away.”

Comments

They’re Here!

Wed, 14 Jan 2009 14:34:39 +0100

The control room doors swung open a little two enthusiastically and a small cloud of snow blew into ops, causing Boss to exclaim

“Any of that goes in my coffee and you are all dead”

In the middle of this mini blizzard stood Skit, Ruby and Hazel – all brushing snow off off their flight suits.

“Is it still snowing?” Enquired Boss, and all three rabbits tried to respond before the others.

“Snowball fight! I am WIN!” said skit
“She started it honest!” said Hazel pointing at Ruby
“You so did not win you bastard!” said Ruby slapping at Skit.

“QUIET!”

The three pilots noticed that everyone was in little groups around the various radar monitors, and as one they all looked up at the main display on the wall.

Lots of red dots where coming over the border, each of the three groups of eighteen accompanied by readouts for height and speed.

“Oh shit, those bastards never know when it’s over do they.” Ruby breathed.

“No, because that is up to us to decide.” Said boss.

Boss turned and scooped up his flight helmet and gloves pausing only to hit the scramble alarm.

“They’re heeeere! Lets go!”

Comments

"Tis the season, and all that bollocks"

Tue, 09 Dec 2008 11:49:00 +0100

“So am I fit?”

Boss placed his cards face up on the table and looked at Doc. It was late and they were sat in his office playing by the light of Docs desk lamp.

“You sod! Shall I just give you my bank account details and be done with it? Another drink?” Doc reached for the Rabbit Punch bottle “Don’t worry, it’s on prescription..”

“Yeah if you must. Anyway, am I fit for duty now?”

“What? Oh yes, yeah you can go get shot at again a lot. Fine by me and the Old Man. What is your hurry anyway?”

“It is that time of year. We have just been skirmishing and dog fighting, no gunship raids have come over the border in months – not since the big one. No bombers trying to flatten the base, just a shit load of quick little battles like they are testing us.”

Boss dealt the cards again.

“You think they are going to try something big soon? At Christmas?”

“They normally do. So I can take back Black section tomorrow and make sure they are ready”

“All the sections are ready. A bit jumpy perhaps, as you said – too many little quick battles. I was thinking of rotating some of the pilots off for some leave and…”

“No, don’t do that. Unless anyone is about to come apart we need them all here ready. Tis the season, and all that bollocks.”

Comments

Painkillers.

Thu, 27 Nov 2008 16:06:23 +0100

Boss sat stripped to the waist on the edge of his bed in the med centre, supporting himself upright by holding on the edge with both hands.

Sitting on a chair in front of him, Doc was busy with a needle and some sterile medical suture.

“Hold still! This is only the first one you have burst. Nice display up there though…”

“shutit.”

“No really, they were all impressed – almost vertical take off and spin like a drill bit all the way up to three thousand feet, that must have hurt the old ribs a bit..”

“shutit”

“And the g-force in some of those turns! Extreme combat levels I’d say with the pressure suit squeezing, stitches giving, hold still – this may sting.”

“sssshutit”

“And the way they all punched the air when you did that thing were you make the plane stand up on its tail…the Cobra? Way cool…” He started on the next freshly opened wound “they loved it”

“shutit”

“And the grand finaleeeee, your piece of resistance”

“shutit”

“That thing where you spin the plane nose over tail in horizontal flight, one of the chaps told me the SU37 is the only plane you can do that with and you’re the only one mad enough on this base to do it. And ya did. They went NUTS”

Boss looked at Doc.

“Yeah I know – shutit. Right you idiot. Breath in as deep as you can and hold it please”

Boss did.

“GRNNK!”

“Yes, that is all the breaks in your ribs, which had knitted fairly well till the pressure suit did its work on them, popping back together…sliding and grinding back into place. I am sure it must be unpleasant. Almost as unpleasant as watching hours of care and attention get pissed away in a frivolous display to prove something to some new pilots and boost morale. You can breath out now. You totally infuriating stubborn idiot rabbit”

“Shhhhut it”

“Yes, you can have painkillers now. And I am grounding you for three weeks, ops room duties only, advise and guide and stay sat down.”

“But Doc..”

“Shut it!”

Comments

Well, I am not dead and its' about time I introduced myself"

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 00:04:08 +0100

Doc leaned against the door frame of the pilots locker room and tried to look unconcerned.

"Boss, this may not be the brightest idea in the history of aviation. You still have stitches in that may not hold up to this and some of those ribs are not healed properly. It will hurt a tad. And the plates and screws in your arm and leg may be put under a bit of stress, and cause some....discomfort. The bones they are holding together are also, just to add some spice, not fully knitted and therefore........you are not listening so I will shut up"

He continued to watch Boss pull on the flight suit over the pressure suit without even wincing (much) and stoop (almost without swaying) to lace up his boots.

"Boss, why are you doing this?"

"You heard about that shit two weeks ago, in the bar? Flyboy - he should be rock solid but he lost it and Skit had to knock him on his arse. People are coming apart. These damn new kids have not even bloody seen me! They think I'm just a story the old hands tell them to make them try harder. Well, I am not dead and it's about time I introduced myself"

Doc sighed, "But like this? I should re check your head for trauma.."

Comments

Punch drunk

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 12:30:03 +0200

Skit sat slumped forward on the chair in Flyboys room, one hand wrapped around a glass of rabbit punch, the other playing absent minded with the crescent shaped hole in his ear, the way he did when thinking.

Flyboy lay unconscious on the bed, dried blood on the fur of his nose.

Skit sat up. “You know Mr Skit, for a professional fighter pilot, you do drink rather too much” and downed his drink in one. He flopped back in the chair and belched.

“Bollocks to that” he added.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think. What the hell was going on with the pilots on this base? “We are all coming apart apparently” he said to himself. Too many missions, too many monkey bastards – no matter how many of them they seemed to shoot down. It never seemed to end. Thank god Boss was conscious now and getting stronger by the day, but he was not back to flying yet. Maybe then it would be like it was; when they all felt strong and believed that they might win.

Morale was a bit low, and Flyboys little show in the bar tonight didn’t help.

Waving his hands around too much, Flyboy paced up and down “Oh yeah, you new boys and girls are doing fine, fine good work, but what for? You try being here for as long as we have and you will notice things. Or notice what you don’t notice.

He glugged his drink.

“Us fine bunch of bonny rabbits, flying high tech fighters against those Monkey bastards, and they never stop coming, we think they have stopped and we have killed enough but back they come. Bastards, but you know what? Anyone of you remember what you did before this? Or what your parents looked like?”

Some of the newer pilots where staring very hard into their drinks now. Some of the old hands where looking nervously at each other and back to Flyboy.

“All I remember about mine is that they called me Peter! What a fucking daft name for a rabbit!”

Skit got up and slowly moved up behind the wildly swaying form of flyboy.

“Ah but the bestest news is this, you heard that rumour? We are maybe not just fighting those monkeys, oh no…some say that a couple of months ago one of the bodies from a crashed monkey fighter was a fucking Rabbit! Ha!”

This made some eyes visibly widen in the bar. Skit had to do something,

“And wait till you have that weird dream about the big hill and the moon and a big castle thing, then..”

Skit spun Flyboy round, “Sorry mate” and decked him with one quick hard punch.

Skit looked at Flyboy lying on his bed. “You utter twat,” he snorted.

But the thing was, Skit didn’t remember anything before life on the base….and he had had that dream.

Comments

Alarming response.

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 15:47:44 +0200

Hazel sat down in the half-light of the darkened ward and braced herself.

“I am not going to cry even a little this time,” She told herself. “And don’t babble!” she added silently.

“Hi Boss, me again” she said to the still figure in the bed in front of her.

“God I’mjustsotired andthetrainingandall thatyou knowhowitgoes hahah”

“Don’t babble I think we said eh? And that laugh was so false it hurt” she thought. She tried again.

“The new pilots are actually learning fast. All sections up to full numbers, new planes all sorted. It’s difficult though, Ruby is up now with half of black section doing fake intercepts, you’d better get a move on – I think she is getting too comfortable and we can’t have you out of a job”

Her eyes felt wet.

“Monkies have been quiet really. They mooch about over the border, never in big numbers, no jamming AWACS to stop us going after them, but you know the rules. Funny really”

She breathed in and held it. “Don’t, just don’t be stupid. Keep your mouth shut Hazel”

Out loud she said -

“Boss, please – this is just, I can’t.” she shook her head.

“Anyway. Gold section is fine and dandy now. God I am such a hard bitch to those poor newbies. Have to be really, I know what it’s like. Help them but stay as detached as possible. Don’t’ want to get too close for some odd reason. Well you know, this is a job right?”

Her head dropped again. Nearly three weeks, too many all nighters here at this damn bed. And he is still out cold.

She gasped out loud and her head snapped up as she felt a hand on hers. Boss was looking directly at her. She opened her mouth to speak but he got there first.

“Get ready Hazel, they’re coming”

“What do you..”

But the rest of her sentence was lost as the station alert/scramble signals blared into strident life.

Comments

Category 2

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 12:07:01 +0200

Doc had an unofficial system for categorizing the patients he had to deal with on the base. It ran from Category 1 patients to Category 3. It served no purpose other than to amuse him and give him something to think about while working, took his mind off the blood and the pain.

Category 1 patients where easy to deal with and where his most frequent “clients” – minor cuts, bruises and sprains sustained normally on base due to “recreation”, some category 1’s had holes and cuts – nothing life threatening – after a mission went a bit messy.

Category 2’s were more work and more equipment intensive. Bad wounds, the survivors of bad landings, bailouts in combat or severe “battle damage” sustained after a “hard day at the office”, requiring lots of meds and often, emergency surgery. Category 2’s often had a long recovery period, if they were lucky to actually survive to have one. You needed a store of professional detachment to deal with them, especially as you did tend to get a bit too close to the pilots on a small base.

Category 3’s were possibly the easiest to deal with. In one way at least, if not in others. These took even more professional detachment for Doc. Basically it was a job of taking bits of metal out of bits of meat. Separating the remains of a plane from the remains of a rabbit. A rabbit you may have had lunch with two days ago. Then the remains would be prepared for burial. If there were enough.

Doc shook his head and sat forward out of his slumped position behind his desk. He looked out of the window of his internal office and into the main ward. Only one bed was occupied, filled with a category 2 patient. A friend. Still in a coma but getting stronger, just not waking, as if they were waiting for something. Not even responding to the shifts of young pilots that would come and sit and talk, and in one instance, chatter merrily while fighting back tears.

Doc sat back and sighed,

“Come on Boss, let’s see some action. Wake up dammit”.

Comments

Strange fruit.

Fri, 14 Mar 2008 16:35:07 +0100

Boss opened his eyes and looked down, four feet below him a patch of grass and roots spun left to right. He looked up and saw the parachute silk snagged in the branches the tree he was hanging from.

“Oh. Cool. Hanging from a tree in my ‘chute, what a cliché”

He looked down again and twisted the harness lock on his chest. It was slick with blood and hard to get a grip on. It clicked and he smacked it with the palm of his hand, dropped out of the webbing and down to the forest floor.

Pain shot through him as the ends of broken ribs and other snaps grated against each other as he collapsed into a ball on his side.

“Fuck! Stop, box it away – stay conscious, stay awake!” he thought through red waves of agony.

The roaring in his ear eased a little as he strained to hear the noise that had woken him from his dangling dreams. An auto engine, coming close – through blurred eyes he sought to get some fix on the source. He could make out the tree line fifty feet away to the west and coming across the grass towards this was a jeep, silhouetted against the low sun.

Boss had no idea how far he may of drifted, the engagement was close to the border and he had to deploy his chute early, could be on either side. God it hurt. “Get up. Need to move” he growled at himself.

Figures had jumped out of the jeep and were coming towards him. He could hear voices shouting. He fumbled for his pistol with numb hands. Nothing seemed to be working, it took both hands to pull the gun out of its holster and it felt like it weighed more than he did.

Boss rolled onto his knees and tried to get upright, focusing on the approaching figures, he held the gun in shaking hands in front of him and tried to see what they were, Monkeys or Rabbits.

“No fucking Monkey is coming near me!”

The gun waved left and right, its weight sending fresh waves of pain stabbing into Boss from all angles.

“No, Monkey, bastard is…”

Boss fell face down onto the ground and lay still.

The two figures from the jeep stood over Boss, one of them dug a radio out of its jacket.

“Control, we got him. Send a medivac chopper now! He looks bad.”

Comments

A Cheeky half.

Mon, 10 Mar 2008 16:02:37 +0100

Boss looked at the drink in his hand. The glass was a heavy crystal tumbler, an inch of amber liquid swirling in it. He looked down at the front of his flight suit. There was a lot of blood on it. Hmmm. Not good probably. For some reason that didn’t seem important right now. The drink did.

Boss raised the glass to his nose and sniffed – nothing surprisingly, so cautiously he took a sip.

“Oh my god!”

It tasted of, well – everything! Of summer and fruit and meat and hops and sea air and chocolate and sunlight and snow and earth and wind and….everything ever. And it tasted so good!

He looked up. He was in a bar. He had a slightly uneasy feeling he recognised it but he had never seen it from this angle. It was also very quiet.

The other customers seemed to be rabbits like himself, all wearing flight suits, sitting at tables but for some reason, or by some trick of coincidence they all had their backs to him as they sat and chatted soundlessly.

The walls of this bar were covered in pictures of aircraft and smiling people, small parts of planes and various squadron insignias. Directly opposite where boss sat was a door.

This did not look like your average bar door, it was big and made of dark oak. Its surface was studded with big metal nail heads and there appeared to be no handle on this side of it. Which worried Boss somewhat. Where was he?

He got up and walked through the tables and up to the door. He pushed but it felt solidly locked. What the hell is going on? He took another drink and turned round.

From this angle, from just inside the door, he recognised the bar for what it was – the place where he came in his nightmares night after night, to watch his fellow pilots burn and scream and feel helpless. They all sat now looking at him from the tables expectantly.

One of the pilots got up and walked up to Boss, smiling as he did so.

“Your not actually supposed to be here boss, not yet”

Boss frowned. “Your, Tyco right? From Gold section – we lost you last month…”

“Never mind that, time for you to go” And saying this Tyco took bosses drink from him and reached over his shoulder to push the door open

“But it’s locked…”

Boss felt wind on his back and saw his shadow cast across the bar, and felt Tyco gently pushing him back over the threshold

“No it’s not. You just don’t know how to work it yet. Don’t come back soon Boss OK? You’re not finished yet. They need you”

Boss stepped backwards and felt the step under his foot and suddenly everything went white and he was falling fast, dropping through bright white clouds in the company of falling lumps of burning metal.

Comments

“We need more pilots.”

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 12:44:36 +0100

The old man was on the phone and his head hurt. It could be blood pressure, it could be single malt. He was not sure. In front of him on his screen the folders containing the debrief audio files where still open, but before writing his report he had to make a phone call.

“Yes, at approximately 10.17 this morning, Red section where first on the scene….about three squadrons and a jamming AWAC right in the middle. Apparently only one squadron engaged Red section, seems like they wanted everyone to come to the party first. Gold and Black yes, about three minutes later.”

“Pretty bad yes……..losses, hang on” He clicked on the screen.

“11 out of 21 pilots killed. Well yes they did all get some kills, but that’s not really…….I’m not sure. Once Angel section could use their missiles it swung in our favour………Yes the jamming plane was taken out…yes that’s how it happened. The AWAC was flying in the centre with four Gun ships in close formation……Boss and Ruby yes……. She’s in the bar. Boss took out the AWAC but……….No, no one saw him eject before his plane went into the cloud……..yes, it broke up just before……basically it was cut to bits by the crossfire but…..
Well he could have, we don’t know. Yes. Yes I know. Search teams are out there now. Well yes, we need more pilots as soon as possible…..well wouldn’t you?..We’re weak now, I know I would. Oh yes, Skit, Ruby, Snowy erm Bosco as well I think, all in the bar now actually. Not saying much no….Hazel, Bunt and Flyboy have gone off somewhere.”

He took another sip of single malt.

“Yes, if you can…I really don’t know but we are looking now. Multiple teams yes. OK, thank you.”

He dropped the handset back down and closed his eyes.

Comments

Not many

Tue, 22 Jan 2008 21:13:15 +0100

The old man sat at his desk in ops.

On the screen in front of him were the audio files for the debriefing sessions of the pilots that came back. He had sat in on all the interviews. It had not taken long.

In another folder at the bottom right of his screen he had the audio from the dead pilots voice logs during the engagement.

He lit a cigarette and moved the mouse to the first interview.

He had never seen his pilots look so blank and empty during the debriefs. No excitement at the high kill ratio even though they were out numbered three to one, some of them looked close to death. Some of them cried.

He remembered counting the planes off as they touched down and thought,

"That should have taken a lot longer. Well, three sqaudrons against one was never going to come out nice and fluffy."

He clicked the left mouse button.

Comments

Mass transit.

Wed, 19 Dec 2007 21:57:05 +0100

High up in the crisp clear air with the clouds thousands of feet below looking like fresh snowfall, Skit decided to stop trying to remember how many missions he had flown and have a scratch instead.

How long had he been doing this for? What had he done before...."Nope. Nuffin! dumb bunny"

He stopped scratching and clicked on his throat mic.

"Bosco, bunny boy buddy! you still there? Everyone still there? I just had a snooze sorry chaps"

"Still here skit. Could hear you snoring - most proffesional"

The familiar voice of Red 2, joining in the running joke. The rest of red section checked in with similar familiarity. Well it was Skits section after all.

Far on the horizon something caught Skits eye. A galaxy of bright flashes just above the clouds as the sun caught the canopies of a group of fighter jets. A lot of fighters. Skit strained and was sure he could make out a cloud of little black dots rippling across the surface of the clouds - tiny and black - the fast moving shadows of far off enemy planes. Must be twenty miles out, just over the border but base must be tracking them just about now.

"Control, anything you want to share?..."

"Red 1, there is a massive area of interfearence moving towards you, heavy jamming. Can you ID please?"

"Lets go say hello to our neighbors Red section" Skit upped his speed and Red section matched up and on his command strung out into a loose line, side by side, ready for anything.

A few minutes later, Skit did not like what he saw.

"Control, Red 1 here. We have a large monkey incursion group just crossing into our airspace! Get Gold and Black section up asap, please. Holy fuck"

"Red 1, Black and Gold section rolling on the runway now, Angels 1 to 3 in the air standing by. How many bandits?"

"Now is not the time to start slagging off Mexicans control" said skit counting as fast as he could.

"Red 1! How many monkey fighters are up there!"

"Erm. All of them I think"

Skit was sure he heard someone in the background say "fuck" - my thoughts exactly but your on the base behind a ton of concrete and steel.

"Skit, do we engage?" Bosco in his ear sounded calm.

"Dear Red 2, what do you think we get payed for? Lets go boys. You know what we have to do"

One by one, Red section rolled out of formation and closed on the mass of aircraft below them.

Comments

Words (and thoughts)

Fri, 23 Nov 2007 15:47:47 +0100

Hazel left the de-briefing room and headed up the corridor. She was the last of what remained of Gold section to be seen, being the leader. She walked along bouncing her flight helmet off of her thighs as she went with her head down in an absent minded cloud of fatigue, she looked up and saw Boss heading towards her for his turn at telling the truth. Like her he was still in his flight suit despite it being two hours since they landed.

She smiled “Hi, just going to get something to eat” (I am going to the bar for the rest of the day, come and pull me out of it please)

Boss gave a small smile “You could use some food” (Your going to the bar, maybe see you there?)

“Thanks for saving our arses today” (Thank you thank you thank you.)

“It was my idea, the Angel thing so I guess it was my turn to be a hero. You will get your go soon enough. Then you can save me.” (Don’t get killed. Just give up flying and do something else will you. Hazel - just don’t die!)

“I lost two good pilots today” (Fuck! What did they look like? Oh shit have I become that detached already?)

“Hazel, Tyco and Willum lost themselves. They were good, but you know the criteria for really good pilots? Remind me to tell you one day” (At least you won’t have to watch them burn later in the bar you keep in your sleeping head – please not tonight, I don’t want that nightmare again tonight)

“Thanks, but they were in my section. My pilots. I know you trained us all but they were under my command. Yeah, we were in a bad situation and any one of us could have got it, but still” (Are you and Ruby sleeping together? Is she good? Christ Hazel, where the fuck did THAT come from! Shit.)

“Don’t do that to yourself. There will be two new pilots in the section tomorrow and that’s it. We loose people, we find people. Look, I have to go in now” (stop thinking stupid thoughts about hugging her you idiot)

Boss reached out and put his hand on Hazels shoulder and gently squeezed.

“Don’t fall apart –you have responsibilities now, you lead a section” (How the fuck did my hand get there!)

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry” (Don’t let go! Please please don’t. I need to tell you about the things I see when I am trying to go to sleep! That place, the hill, the Moon - I don’t think this is all real, I need you to…)
Boss moved past and headed towards the de-briefing room door.

“Boss, how do you know a good pilot then?” (If I know what you know maybe I can live a bit longer)

“Huh, easy! A good pilot is one you see for breakfast three days in a row.” (Stay breathing Hazel)

Comments

Angel One.

Tue, 06 Nov 2007 12:42:03 +0100

A pure clear blue sky above, a vast expanse of brilliant white cloud below. Off in the distance the flashes of sunlight on the cockpit canopies of four wildly flying fighters can be seen, as they fling themselves around the cold sky in an effort to stay alive. Somewhere beyond them hide two fully equipped Howling fuck up monkey fighters dispensing the missiles the four are trying to avoid.

The clouds in the foreground erupt as a sleek fighter blasts up through them, shining bright in its white anti radiation flash paint.

“Why the old school paint jobs boss?” asked the old man.
“I want those bastards to see us coming for miles and know they’re up against a fully kitted out SU37. I want them to know what they are getting. And I want our planes to know we are coming as well”

Boss is hunched over the controls trying to throw the plane through the sky by force of will. “Fly you bastard!” he mutters as he scans his radar. The four remaining fighters of gold section are twisting madly on the extreme of his scopes range but they are heading in his direction, fighting for home. The nearest one to him shows Hazels ID.

“We need more than three planes!”
“Boss, that’s all we can spare. They will be flown by all pilots in rotation, one aircraft on standby or flying with each section on each mission to cover them into and out of combat. Without radar or air-to-air missiles they are vulnerable outside the Monkeys jamming fields. It’s only a matter of time before the monkeys try to get them on the way in or out. That’s what the Angel section is for.”

Boss was closing fast, his hand hovered over the missile selection and target acquisition controls. “Come on, come on!” he scanned the far edge of the radar screen. They were there somewhere. Two fighters hanging back and launching QRAM’s at Gold section, thinking they were safe “Just wait till I see…”

“Anyway it’s only a stopgap, till we get garden path up and running”
“Ah yes” sighed boss “the much heralded jamming beam that the tech boys say will let us fly home safe from attack from fully kitted out fighters. When will that be ready?”
The Old Man lit another cigarette.
“Soon. We do not have limitless resources”
“Unlike the Monkeys.”

There! Extreme range! “I seeeee you!” said Boss, selecting both targets and allocating two missiles to each. It was too far to guarantee a hit but “this’ll make the little buggers jump!” said boss as he fired. Two missiles dropped away from each side of the fighter and roared into life, streaking off for their targets.

Boss resumed scanning the display of the scene ahead of him, the nearest Gold section fighter, Hazels, stopped its wild gyrations and headed straight for Boss. “Must have shaken the missile, good girl. Now just don’t blink” Boss watched the four radar indicators showing the missiles from his fighter head straight for Hazel, then split and fly past on either side as they hunted for Monkies.

Boss looked up and saw the rapidly growing dot of Hazels plane speeding towards him. As they flashed past each other he thought he could see her face looking up at him through the canopy. He clicked on his throat mic –

“Morning beautiful, we must stop meeting like this!”

And the white plane blasted by and was gone.

Hazel thought she had never heard a more welcome voice in all her life.

Comments

"I'm going to live"

Mon, 05 Nov 2007 12:30:05 +0100

The pressure suit squeezes her legs and forces the blood up into her torso to prevent a black out. The SU37 rips the air and clouds form behind the wings in a tight turn. Her neck aches from constantly throwing panicked looks over her shoulders with a heavy flight helmet on. Sweat is stinging her eyes. She breathes too fast and tries to control it. Where the fuck is the horizon? Which way is up? It does not matter. Missile lock alarm is still beeping frantically in her ears and she feels sick. Her arms and legs hurt.

The beeping stops.

How long was that? Seemed like forever. A quick glance over her shoulder shows the missile dropping upwards towards the ground, its fuel spent. She rolls the plane over and hits autopilot and jams the throttle full open – the plane can take her home now.

“I did it. I’m going to live”. She realizes she is shaking and lifts her head up to look out over the nose towards home.

Hazel stops breathing.

Coming straight at her are four vapour trails from AA missiles at high closing speed.

No time to turn.

One of the bastards must have flown round and got between her section and home.

“Fuck I’m going to die after all,” she thinks.

Out loud she says

“I never told him”

Comments

Gold leader.

Fri, 07 Sep 2007 10:01:30 +0200

“Another successful day at the office” Thought Hazel as she watched the rest of Gold section – her section, form up in loose formation on her plane as they headed for home. All six planes were there, although Tyco was leaving a faint smoke trail from somewhere.

“Tyco, are you cooking something? Check your engines please.”

“Just got a little hole somewhere Hazel, bit down on power but no problems for getting home”

“OK, just watch it and let me know if anything changes”

The SU37’s had now almost all been stripped of missile systems and unnecessary radar equipment, due to the success of the jamming fields being used by the monkeys. They now all carried four 50mm cannon in the nose and extra ammo. They were guided in by the control centre back at base and fought “old style” as boss called it – in close and guns only. The only good thing is the monkies had to do the same. But they were now on an even footing now the missile technology was removed. Made it hard work, physical work, throwing a plane round the sky after another one for minutes that seemed like hours.

She shifted in her seat to try to ease the weight on her left buttock. She could feel the bruise where Doc had injected her with his “special homemade remedy”. It did the trick and seemed to clear the fuzz in her brain that the bottle of Rabbit Punch had left from the night before. Doc had promised not to tell Boss, she would have to trust him on that one. She was drinking a bit much. Why? All that stuff with Boss and his sister. And other stuff about….stop. Stop being a silly stupid girly rabbit. You have a job to do.

She looked left and right at the rest of Gold section, at the gold bands on the wing tips, the gold tail plains of the other aircraft around her, at the black rabbit head on each tail. She felt good about that – that she was good enough to lead her own section. Or rather that Boss thought she was good enough. Skit was now Red leader and Boss, well trust him “Mr bloody Dramatic” was Black leader. And he had a female wingman. Stop it. “Boss likes a girlie on his tail” Skit had said with an arched eyebrow. Wind up bastard that he was. Ruby, good pilot. But did she have to have that voice? The one that made all the other male rabbits go funny? Don’t seem to work on boss though. Stop it.

She shook her head, the “remedy” may be wearing off, not long till home and a nice hot bath and then a

“Gold leader! Gold leader! Control here, two Enemy fighters coming up on your groups six, fully loaded and getting a lock. Hazel! They have full missile systems! Break and run for home”

Bunt, her wingman cut in

“Two against six is not a good..”

“Bunt shut it! Full missiles systems mean they can kill us before we even see them! Everyone Break now! Full throttle and go for home!”

She threw her plane hard starboard and down, spiralling madly but heading for the base. The missile lock alarm started to beep in her ear – she hadn’t heard that for a while.

Tyco was on air panicking. She could hear him grunting as he fought the high G in a turn.

“Hazel I got a missile, where are the bastards! I cant even see the planes, they must be miles out, shit! Loosing power! Fuck…Oh sh..”

A pop in her headphones, static, high above her an orange ball of flame and parts, spinning slowly out from the centre and starting a long drop down.

“And then there were five” she thought. Stop it – work – fly like Boss taught you. What a time to be without long-range missiles and radar.

“Control to Gold leader, Angel one launched, He’s coming, hang on.”

“Hurry Boss, please God - hurry” She thought as she saw another orange flame ball blossoming way off to port.

Comments

“They died in combat. It happens.”

Thu, 07 Jun 2007 12:26:15 +0200

Boss looked across his desk at the Monkey sitting opposite. The black leather flying jacket over the flight suit looked new and gleamed. Boss flipped the file in front of him shut and spoke.

“So, our first Monkey pilot. Have to think of a good call name for you”

“Call me whatever everyone else is calling me” he smiled back. God those teeth look sharp thought boss.

“I don’t think “that monkey bastard” is a good call name really. Does not do wonders for team spirit” The monkey smiled again. Muted colours on his snout.

“Part Mandrill?” asked Boss.

“Yes” and that bloody smile again. You have no idea how much I want to punch you seethed the voice in bosses head.

“So you have lost a lot of pilots? I heard that Skit, Hazel, Flyboy and Snowy all bought it”

Boss felt cold.

“They died in combat. It happens”

“And yet there are not enough trained Rabbits to replace them and here I am”

I am not going to look up said bosses inner voice, because if that smile is there again…

“You would think, given what they say about Rabbits, that there would be an almost endless supply of eager young things ready to fly against us…”

“Us?” boss looked up. Jeezus was he that big when he came in? More like a Gorilla now, huge and muscled, leaning forward in the chair, sharp teeth flashing in the red mouth.

“Ironic isn’t it – you blow your sister out of the sky and a Monkey comes along as a replacement pilot, and why do Rabbits want to fly, given that they should be spending most of their life underground”

“Stop it” The monkey was standing up with his fists on the edge of the desk, naked and bristling, looking impossibly big.

“Your family all fly, know where they are do you? Who they are flying for, ARE YOU GOING TO BLOW THEM OUT OF THE SKY BOSS? DO YOU KNOW WHERE THEY ARE? DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR PARENTS! DO YOU REMEMBER ANYTHING BEFORE THIS GODFORESAKEN AIRFIELD AND THE FIGHTING AND WATCHING YOUR FRIENDS BURN IN THEIR PLANES!”

Boss was on his feet with his back to the wall, all he could see in front of him was the snarling mouth of the Monkey like some huge cave. He stood in the fetid blast of the Monkeys screaming laughter and looked at the impossibly big and sharp teeth of the cave and the vile fat tongue thrashing around on the floor.

“STOP IT!” Boss threw himself into the rank blast and into the cave punching wildly, a huge tooth shattered like glass and blood sprayed over him, hot and thick.
“STOP IT!” The laughter and the screaming continued and boss screwed his eyes tight shut and ripped the tongue from its roots and shredded it with his bare hands, blood flying everywhere. He punched and gouged and screamed and ripped – he could feel the Monkey shrinking around him. He opened his eyes and it stood there before him, its face a ruin and blood streaming down its naked chest. But still it laughed and howled and screamed.
“STOP IT!” Bosses hands fell on it again and fur and skin and blood and bone flew in all directions
“STOP IT! YOU KILLED HER! IT’S YOUR FAULT! SHE WAS FLYING FOR YOU! HOW DID I KNOW! I DIDN’T KNOW…”

Bosses head snapped up. His office was dark, lit dimly by the light of the ante room coming in under the door. In his hands where shreds of paper that had been the pilot lists for his, Skit and Hazels new sections. He was going to pin them on the board in the mess.

“Oh fuck”

Comments

"Drinking to forget."

Wed, 02 May 2007 15:35:06 +0200

“More!” said Hazel, then remembered that she was not in the airfield bar anymore, but forgot how she got here, in a AA gun dugout in the middle of the night with a three quarter full bottle of “Rabbit Punch” sitting between her knees.

“Bum ‘oles!”

Forgetting. Must be working then. Must be late. S’OK, not flying till day after tomorrow. Probably.

Forgetting? What am I forgetting? Hehe Hehe. “God I’m drunk” she thinks. She smoothes her ears down and breathes in and holds it. There it is, coming back-

The med centre, four of five hours ago. Following Boss and Doc, straight to the ward from his office.

Snowy - half his face covered in bandages, both arms in plaster, tubes everywhere and machines going ping. Doc saying “Irreparable nerve damage” and “punctured lung” and stuff about never being able to move the right side of his face again.

Boss standing there looking blank and stiff. Then touching Snowy on the shoulder. Softly.

The empty sick feeling in her stomach and the smell of medicine and antiseptic. The smell of Snowys fur as she kissed the un-marked side of his face. The fact he never moved or opened his eyes.

Then the walk behind a fast moving and visibly angry Boss, straight to the mortuary.

Boss barking, “Show me!” at the attendant and the drawer sliding out. Boss pulling the zip on the body bag down.

The face of a female rabbit, older than Hazel and a bit younger than boss. Matted blood in the fur just behind her ears. The lab technician not noticing anything and blandly stating, “you got this one I believe” as he left.

Did it get colder? Did she actually see – what, tears in Bosses eyes? “No! Impossible!”

She remembered reaching out to him and stopping as Boss slowly stroked his had down the cheek of this, “Enemy” pilot.

“You OK Boss? Did you know her?”

Boss turned and walked past her fast, she remembered the look on his face and the words he said as he went by. Oh yeah, that was the thing she was trying to forget. Drinking to forget.

“My Sister”

and he was gone.

Comments

"That was a definition of fun I am not familiar with"

Fri, 06 Apr 2007 01:58:06 +0200

The "old man" came out of boss' office and lit a cigarette. He looked at Hazel sitting outside and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the open door.
"In there"
And walked off down the corridor, blowing smoke out of his nostrils like a dragon.
"Oh, OK then" said Hazel to herself as she got up. She stepped into the room and shut the door behind her.

"Was it fun today?" She said to Boss. He was seated behind his desk, the room was barely lit by the single bulb of the desk lamp. Boss reached down to the left hand bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of "Rabbit Punch" and two glasses. Filling them both to the brim he said

"Sit." knocked his glass back in one and then "Drink!"

"But I could be flying tomorrow if every thing is.."

"Drink the damn drink girlie" He watched her as she sat and took a large sip of her drink. "What did you say?" he asked as she set her glass down.

"Was it fun today?"

"Well if it was, that was a definition of fun I am not familiar with. Bastards. Jamming our missile systems. Clever bastards."

"Well at least they could not use there missiles either and.."

"Hazel. You saw how many planes came back yes? They were carrying extra cannon and loads of ammo. Stripped bare of missiles, targeting computers and all the other gubbins, they were lighter than us even with the extra ammo. We had a load of useless missiles and not enough ammo for more than 30 seconds of continous fire. That, my dear bunny, is just not on."

Boss poured another full glass of Rabbit punch and sat back in the shadows behind his desk.

"Well you and Peter, I mean "Flyboy" got two of them." she said.

"Yes but there were six of the buggers. Snowy got careless. Target fixated. Didn't watch his tail. I tried to get over to him." he paused and had another large slug on his glass. "If we hadn't out flown them it would have been bad. And we were only one on one, the other three...well you know more about that than I do, which is of course why the Old man sent you here."

"Snowy? is he..."

"Oh the medivac chopper dropped him off at the med centre a half hour ago. He will live, but he'll have more scars than Skit. At least he will have learned a lesson. You know, no matter how many computers you put in a fighter, it's only as smart as the pilot. And now he is a smarter pilot. If he's not - well next time he really won't come back."

Hazel finnished her drink. This sitting around on the base was driving her nuts what whith her being one of the first pilots to go into combat. She had a nasty feeling that she was going to pay for her rash disobedience today. Oh well.

"Right. You. Now, you were told to stay on base. By me. And while I was trying to stay alive and protect those two fur balls AND kill the other buggers while worrying about where the other three were off to"
He sat forward and leaned on his desk looking hard at Hazel.
"YOU, picked Bunt and Ruby, decided they were combat ready, and took off to intercept the other three fighters. Now I am not going to comment on the pure blind luck that meant you got to them outside the jamming feild of that bastard AWAC flying around over the border, or the rampant disregard of my orders" Hazel thought she saw the faintest hint of, what? was that a smile!
"but you probably saved some lives today. Soooooo. The boss says, and I do actually agree with him, that you and Skit are to get your own sections."

"Whu? You mean I, me and Skit too."

"Yes. Tomorrow we get to pick your pilots. Congratulations" with that Boss stood up and held out his glass to clink with Hazels. She rose and as she did the door behind her burst open. Standing there was the Doc, looking shocked.

"Jeezus doc come on in a bit faster next time could ya, I think there is still some paint left on that door frame!"

"Boss, you not going to belived this. We have recoverd the four of the five downed Monkey pilots bodies."

"Oh good. What do you want me to do. Sing at their funeral?"

"Boss. One of them was a Rabbit."

Comments

"Sneaky Bastards!"

Sun, 11 Mar 2007 06:43:03 +0100

Clear blue sky.

High, high up, contrails track slowly across the blue like slow spreading rips in silk.

"Boss! base to Boss - check you systems now please top to bottom over - this is not a drill or whatever Boss, just do it fast. Over"

"Boss! what do we do? erm, over" Snowy. He's nervous thinks Boss.

"Boss! shit I got problems! QRAMS not targeting or coming up as able, fuck! Boss? Boss!" Flyboy is getting a bit loose thinks Boss.

"Boss! I got em! I can see them six Monkey bandits coming arcoss our 10 low at 3 thou...boss, what's up?"
Stay with it snowey thinks boss.

Boss takes a breath in, cliks his throat mike on and speaks, as calm as fuck.

"Hoooookay base what, exactly, is the bowl of hot brown shit you have for us poor old rocket targets today pickles?"

Boss sounds as cool as, well, someone who has been here so many times before - it seems to keep the kids from panic and makes him feel better too, but as he says this to base control he is frantically flipping through menues on his panel and HUD, and it is not looking good.

"BOSS!" snowey again "Do we engage"

"Chill Snow-cone, shut it and wait" want a carrot! "Base what the fuck, if you would purleeeez excuse my lang guuu fucking larrrge is going on?"
Snowey and flyboy could hear Boss arching his eye brow over the radio. They both smiled. One of them would never do it again.

"Boss, there is a monkey AWAC flying just over the border, and it's broadcasting a jamming signal and we don't know exactly what it's"

"QRAMS you twats! I am here with two fuzz balls fresh out of the burrows and they are jamming our QRAMS! the one thing that was giving us an advantage and we have now fucked that off into the breeze! Buckle up guys its gonna get lumpy and bad!"

"Boss we still have sidewinders on line! is that not good?"

Yeah if you were 5 years older and a fucking ace thinks Boss, but says

"Yep flyboy your right, Check your systems and..."

"FUCK, BOSS oh shit man, this ain't fucking happening"

"Snowy, Flyboy! one at a time what!"

But boss was checking like crazy himself, he knew all missile systems were jammed, everything was off line, and he could see the second jet of each of the three pairs of the monkey intruder group breaking off and coming up at them.

"Lets go to work. Or retire dead"

"RIGHT! you two! stop shitting yourselves and remember all the time I spent chasing your stupid fucking arses all over the sky showing you how to avoid a missile lock and how to get into gun range! And don't you DARE say you can't remember it because I am the best damn teacher in the sky and if you don't remember -you will not be home for wine and cakes with the girls in the canteen! you got that! you were taught by the best. That means ME - and my lessons work!"

"Right with you boss!" Flyboy, of course you are your on my six fluffball! thinks Boss.

"Yeah Boss! coming down fast, guns only then this time?" Oh crap snowey for christ sake this is not a drill or excercise, this is were you get hurt and killed. This is real life.

Boss stops these thoughts and flips his plane over on to it's port side and slides down at the three monkey fighters arcing up toward him, knowing that flyboy is tight on his tail and snowey is coming in hot from high up, he clicks on his throat mike and says, as calm as he can, considering he thinks this may just be the day he gets to have a drink in the bar of his nightmares-

"Ok, poodles we're going in guns only -please god tell me they are jamming there own missiles too or this, my dear chuckle bunnies, could be the screaming bunnies last stand. And I did sooo like being me"

Closing speed up in the high numbers, three on three, "but what about the other three bastards" thinks boss. "who is going to stop them"
He knows they should be circling high and waiting to pick off who ever lives out the next 10 minutes, but he can see them going off flat out on full afterburn, off for what?

"If I get through this, I will have to just catch them and kill them" thinks Boss.

"If I get through this..." thinks Snowey.

"peterrabbitsgotaflyuponhisnosepeterrabbitsgotaflyupponhisnose" thinks Flyboy, grinning in a very manic way

Back in the control bunker, Skit and Hazel sit down at a repeater screen. No one comments about the blood on Hazels lip and lapel. No one bothers to comment on Skit anymore.

"Oh the sneaky bastards!" says skit, fingering the hole in his ear.

Comments

“There will be even more of the buggers to fight now”

Sun, 07 Jan 2007 02:21:42 +0100

“Skit, who’s that in with the old man?”

Hazel and Skit were bent over one of the repeater screens in the raised area of Ops near the old mans office, watching the three green blips that marked out the course and height of Boss, Snowy and Flyboy as they flew to intercept the Howling Fuck-up Monkey fighters.

“SKIT!”

Hazel flipped the crescent shaped hole in Skits ear to get his attention.

“OW! Hurty bunny remember! What, who the what the when the why the where for now woman? ”

Skit turned away from the repeater screen and looked up at Hazel. He was still on painkillers but Hazel had the feeling he liked playing the smashed stoned rabbit for effect.

“The girl in the office with the old man, who is she?”

They both glanced through the windows of the old mans office and saw him bent over one of his own repeater screens. Standing behind him with her hand on his shoulder was a young girl. She had dark eyes like the old man and long dark hair, but Hazel knew she was not the old mans daughter as he had a picture of her on his desk. She too was pointing at the repeater screen and asking questions of the old man with the same frown of concentration on her face.

“Oh, erm, she is part of his family or something, not blood but related or some bollocks. Looks like we are flying for her as well now.” Skit added, “There will be even more of the buggers to fight now”

Hazel patted Skit on the head as he turned back to watch the show,

“Just you calm yourself little shot up bunny bag, most of the rest of the squadron are up to speed, and we will be able to put up three full sections soon so..”

Hazel had just shot a quick glance over her shoulder to the old mans office just as he had looked up. The distance to the office seemed far too great, but still the same, she felt light headed and things were slowing down but still going at the same pace. She felt like she was falling sideways and down and in every direction at once. She turned back to look as Skit who seemed now to be so far off but still sitting with her hand on his shoulder and then…

Grass. A steep bank of grass and the night wind in her fur. A massive castle above and railings at the foot of the bank below. Street lights, the moon hanging in the dark sky. A man, looking right at her, holding the railings and staring at her so hard. Behind him a young girl, dressed in black like the man, staring at her so hard.

She felt odd, her arms felt too short and her legs were all bunched up underneath her,

“Is this, this is. Real. Is it?”

She could feel Skits shoulder under her hand and she squeezed hard. She opened her eyes again and could see him looking up at her concerned, and the bank of grass overlaid on top and her head was spinning and she was seeing two things that had no right to be in the same place, but they were real! No! One of these is where I belong but what, which, god I’m lost!

“You look like shit, fancy some air?”

With that skit got her under the arms and took her quickly out into the bright sunshine and leant her against the ops bunker wall. Hazel could see the sun and the moon and the bank and the man and the fighters parked at dispersal in the distance and feel the night wind and the afternoon sun and

“Skit, hit me for fucks sake! Slap me hard now please!”

“Eh? We haven’t even been on a date yet! You sure? You look a bit bad but I hardly think a quick..”

“DO IT YOU PRICK!”

Skit slapped her hard on the right cheek. Hazel felt the sting and spun round and felt the hard bunker wall on her hands, tasted blood in her mouth, and it was gone. No spinning, no grass, no wind. Just bright sunshine and bunkers, and Skit looking rather guilty.

“What was that all about? You looked ill and crazy, you wanna watch that or I’ll set my lawyers on ya” Skit said looking embarrassed. “Hazel?”

“I could see something! Skit, I saw something that was real or, was a place or, or…”

“What? What did you see?”

“I saw…”

And she realised it had gone – totally gone. Leaving behind the emotion but no memory. She felt scared and cheated. She felt like she needed a drink.

“Hey!” said Skit narrowing his eyes “Have you been at my prescription meds?”

They both started to laugh.

“Fuck you bunny boy, lets get a drink and go see how Boss and the newbies are getting on.”

Comments

“Peter Rabbits got a fly upon his nose”

Wed, 13 Dec 2006 16:31:58 +0100

“How many” said Boss leaning over the shoulder of the radar operator

“Six, just their side of the border, flying a patrol pattern. But they are very close to it, could be over and here in 30”

“I thought those bastards had been a bit too quiet”

“Get airborne!” Snapped the old man from his office as he kicked the door shut. Boss looked at the expectant faces of the squadron looking up at him from the plotting room floor.

“I’m ready!” said Skit going for his flight suite.

“You are still off your head on drugs bunny – sit down. Snowy and Peter” (who the fuck calls their rabbit son Peter for gods sake! Had they not heard the song) “time to get your feet wet!”

The two next most able rabbits grabbed their crash helmets and grinned like idiots. The rest of the squadron murmured various “not fairs” and “good lucks” and got out of their way.

“I am better. So what about the drugs – won’t need a plain to fly” Skit moaned as he sat in the corner fingering the crescent shaped hole in his ear – the only outwardly visible mark of his first combat mission against the Howling Fuck up Monkey Squadrons.

“Boss, I am still on the combat roster” Said Hazel softly as he went past.

“Someone has to teach this lot if I don’t get back Hazel. That’s you and Skits job. If it all goes pear shaped of course”

And with that he and the two other Rabbits were running up the concrete stair way and out into the sun, across the grass to the runway, towards the three ready SU37s’
This is being alive! thought Boss.
“Right” he shouted “Time to kick some arse or die trying”
Snowy turned half way up the ladder to his fighter and flashed Boss a thumbs up, a big grin splitting the black fur of his face. Peter was already in his and checking through his systems.
Up the ladder, strap in, quick pre flight check and taxi as fast as possible to the runway.

As the three fighters left the ground in close formation boss checked left and right and looked right again. The cheeky little puppies of Peters ground crew had painted a big black fly onto the nose cone of his plane!

“Christ!” Said Boss “Peter Rabbit has a fly upon his nose!”

“Not half!” came Peters reply. God he sounds happy, he could be in bits in 30 minutes, Boss shook his head. Enough.

They climbed up into the clear blue sky at full throttle and gained height as fast as possible, Afterburners glowing like the fires of hell.

“Right Snowy, your our top cover and Flyboy – your on my six”

“Hey, I got a cool nickname already. And this my first combat mission as well!” you could hear Peter grinning over the radio.

I just hope I get a chance to use it again, thought Boss.

Comments

"He never dreams"

Thu, 16 Nov 2006 17:01:21 +0100

He never dreams. Well he doesn’t think he does anyway. But he has a recurring nightmare. When he wakes from this he pulls a carrot from the top pocket of his flight suit (he always sleeps fully clothed in a fresh flight suit – ready to go) and gets up.

In the nightmare he walks into a bar that is an amalgamation of every airfield watering hole and roadside club he has ever been in. And it is full of everyone he has ever flown with. They all turn and smile and raise their glasses and shout
“BOSS!!!”
And he is happy.
But during the course of the evening, as Boss watches, one by one, in the middle of telling a joke, or going to the bar, or having a conversation, they all – one after another – start to burn.

And scream

And no one notices or takes any action.

Except Boss, he sees and stands fixed to the spot, screaming silently.

On bad nights, they also explode.

When it is all over Boss is still screaming in silence, looking at the flecks of blood from his own throat covering his paws in front of his face.

Then he wakes up, grabs a carrot and filling his pockets with as many as he can carry, walks round the perimeter road of the airfield. And every time his right foot comes down, he has to say, “fuck” under his breath. He can’t go back to sleep or stop till he can bring himself to not say it.

Some nights it takes three laps.

Comments

“Hazel, we ARE gonna win this, believe me”

Wed, 15 Nov 2006 14:14:51 +0100

Two rabbits stand in the midday sun. The younger one shivers despite the warmth. They stand in front of the Bank that was had been their home for the past three months. Only now it looks like it has been ripped open by a giant Ant eater, smoking impact craters cover the ground, shrapnel shines in the sun, personal effects and things best not focused on litter the site.

“Well, at least we know what the fighters were doing,” said the older rabbit.

“But we stopped the bombers Boss, they broke and ran after 15 minutes”

“Hazel, it was a suicide mission – for us. You said yourself you’d never seen so many gun positions on a bomber. They were gun ships, not bombers – just up there to cut us to bits”

“But..” began Hazel and stopped as Boss turned to her with an angry look in his eyes.

“What is the first thing bombers do when they abort a mission eh? Drop their bomb load and get the fuck out of dodge! Did you see ANY bombs being dropped? No! We were suckered into the air so the fighters could come here and kill the rest of the squadron!”

Boss turned back to the bank.

“How many got out?” Hazel asked.

“Oh, all but four”

“What! Who?”

“The four white rabbit brothers, I told them to stay and study. If they wanted to make it.” He took the carrot stub out of his mouth and threw it into a smoking pit, and replaced it with another. Hazel thought she heard him say something under his breath that sounded like

“Four more for the bar”

“I never knew their names”

“I did” Boss said quietly

“So where are the others?”

“Getting royally pissed in the bar with the Old Man. They thought they were all going to die and we were dead, so they figured they might as well go out pissed. I am going to join them. And you?”

“Not half!”

They turn to walk off through the smoke, Hazel starts to giggle.
“What’s funny?” asks Boss.

“Skit. Sitting in his ejector seat in the middle of the field with his parachute over his head. What did he say when you lifted it off him”

“Are you God?” Boss is giggling as well now.

“Sooooooooo, when exactly did you put the remote switches on the ejector seats”

“When I saw that you young idiots would not have the sense to get out of a sky full of shit, or a burning plane”

They walk towards what’s left of the main buildings.

“Hazel, we ARE gonna win this, believe me”

Comments

"And the world goes white and spinney again"

Wed, 08 Nov 2006 12:12:57 +0100

The rabbit opens his eyes slowly; the first thing he notices is the blood on his left paw, dripping out of the sleeve of his flight suit.
“Oooooooo, hurty bunny!” he says to himself and realises he can’t hear anything at all.
The next thing he notices is the blood dripping apparently horizontally from his head onto the smashed dials in front of him. The ones that are not smashed are counting down numbers very quickly.
“Oooooooo bunny do magic!” Again no sound. “I’m sure I said that out loud,” he thinks.
Looking up further through the smashed front screen of his canopy, he sees a slowly spinning countryside way below, with a thin strip of tarmac at its centre.
“I can see my house from up here!” nothing, “Hmm bunny deaf!”
He then realises he is being blasted by cold air, and must be moving very fast.

He also starts to notice that everything is going white, the dials and the spinning countryside below are fading out. But he can now just hear the wind. And screaming. Someone is screaming. Someone is screaming his name. A woman is screaming his name. Hazel is screaming his name. Hazel is screaming “Skit! You daft bastard! EJECT! EJECT!”

“But I can see my house from up here”

And the world goes white and spinney again.

Comments

"They can do this!"

Tue, 07 Nov 2006 16:41:27 +0100

The plotting room was full of smoke, it was a non-smoking area but no one was going to tell the Old Man that.

Expectant eyes watched the circling blips on the screens - Green for the three SU37's, Red for the 30 heavily armed bombers of the Howling Fuck up Monkey tactical air force.

"They have got 6 so far! Go Boss, Hazel and Skit!" some young fool rabbit yelped, obviously not used to interpreting the data coming in.

“Hmm, only 24 heavily armed bombers to go then. They, or rather we, are getting cut to ribbons, if you look carefully” Said the Old Man.

“They can do this!” said another young voice.

Just then Skits marker began to flash and move irregularly. It broke off and started to loose height at a rapid rate.

“We are so fucked” the Old Man muttered under his breath.

As if on cue, the muffled sound of sirens started to filter into the ambient noise of the plotting room and the sound of anti aircraft rockets could be heard tearing off into the sky.

Behind this followed the sound of high performance fighter engines and the heavy thud of high calibre cannon shells smacking into the buildings overhead.

“Sneaky bastards those monkeys” said the Old Man, having another big sip of his drink.

Comments

“Scramble you daft carrot munchers!”

Tue, 07 Nov 2006 12:55:42 +0100

A quiet grassy bank in the English countryside, just outside London, sprinkled with rabbit holes and frost. In the distance the mounds of three camouflaged hangars are visible through the chill mist.

Suddenly a blaring siren cracks the frosty air and almost immediately a rabbit comes running at full pelt out of one of the bigger holes.

“Scramble you daft carrot munchers!”

“Eh? What now? We only have three planes ready and we are not fully trained, well apart from you Boss” The speaker is a young female rabbit, also running and pulling on a life vest as she goes.

“Hazel, just get in your plane and do what you have been taught” barked the bunny called Boss. He is grey around the chin and as usual has the stub end of a carrot wedged firmly in the corner of his mouth. Already in his flight gear he jumps straight into the cockpit of his SU37 and starts to shout questions at the C*nt puppies yipping and yapping around his plane.
“Fuelled and full of ammo?”
“YIP!”
“you sorted the targeting problem?”
“YIP!”
“Then move out the way or get run over!”
“YIP” with that the chief c*nt puppy bounced up into the air, ripped off a crisp salute with his little paw and bounded away with the others.
“HAZEL! Where the fuck is Skit!”
“Here, coming, oh fuck, it must be Tuesday” Skit was half way up the ladder of his plane and trying to scramble into his flying helmet.
“Hmmm. No self respecting rabbit should be that thin” thought Boss, watching the only other one of his young rabbit charges who was at a combat level or readiness strap himself in. “must try not to get them both killed first time out. Or me even”

With all checks done and without waiting for clearance the three multi-role fighters blasted off down the runway, thrust vectoring nozzles throwing flame all over the shop. At the last minute, all three leapt up in a near vertical climb straight off the tarmac and were lost in the low cloud in seconds.

“Skit! Go vertical and get in the sun, watch for top cover. Hazel, your on my six and don’t let me get shot down Purr leeeeez.” Boss was calmer now he was in the air.

“Hokay boss, ladies and gentlemen, Skit is going vertical, me like this bit!”

“Nutter” muttered Hazel as she kept position on Bosses wing.

“Right, 15,000 feet level off and lets find the monkey bastards”

“There Boss! There! At 10,000 on your 1 o’clock”

And there they were. Wing after wing of black heavily modified B52’s, just visible skimming through the cloud layer below, like fish below the surface of a pond.

“Christ could they not get any more gun positions on those things?” said Hazel. She looked at her left paw as it reached for the missile control settings. It was shaking.

“Skit, any sign of fighters yet? Stay high and watch our backs as we go in. Hazel, no sidewinders on the first run, switch to QRAM’s. We need to get as many of these fuckers on the first pass as possible”

“QRAM’s selected boss!” and I’ve stopped shaking thought Hazel.

Watched by Skit in the top cover position, the two sleek fighters flipped over onto their backs and dived down in an arc to bring them in behind the Monkey formation.

As they screamed toward the enemy and the distance counted down to a missile lock, Boss muttered quietly over the radio,

“Duck you suckers”

And in the airfield bar, the commanding officer stares into his pint and whispers to himself-
“Go get ‘em bunnies”

Comments