Cast No Shadow, Peter Sharp [books to get back into reading txt] 📗

“Ah, here it is!” he said, the Welsh accent confirming what his name implied. “Do you know, you are absolutely correct. I am expecting you, according to this.” He looked up and smiled. “Not that I ever doubted it for a moment.” Kelly returned the infectious smile.

“Am I just in time?” asked Kelly, waving a hand towards the window, indicating the frenetic activity taking place.

“No, you’re just too late. Everything is planned, shipped, transported, stamped and signed for in triplicate. You’ll have to sit this one out I’m afraid.” Owen grimaced but quickly brightened up. “Don’t worry, though. Operations are like London buses in this unit.”

Kelly frowned his puzzlement.

“If you miss one, don’t fret, another one will be along in a moment,” Owen explained.

“Right!” Kelly understood. “And in the meantime ...?”

“Oh, you’ll be rear party. The QM is staying behind as the IC rear party. I’m sure he’ll find you lots of interesting and exciting things to do. Why not pop in and see him? He’s three doors up.”

Kelly turned to leave.

“Dragan.” Kelly turned back from the door to find Owen’s hand outstretched. “Sorry it’s a bit of a mess here at the moment. This sounds like a big one. We’ll touch base when I get back. It’s ‘Gareth’ by the way.”

Kelly smiled as he shook the Welshman’s hand.

“Dan. Good luck Gareth. See you when you get back.”

That evening, from Owen’s office, kindly allocated to him temporarily by the QM, Kelly watched as the three tonners carrying almost the entire compliment of ‘A’ Royal Marine Commando, rolled out of the gates. Six days later on the 8th of July, he watched them as they rolled back in again.

It was expected of course. The QM had received a signal the previous day to say that operation ‘Rutter’ was postponed indefinitely due to inclement weather. Kelly picked up his green beret, placed it on his head and walked up to the QM’s office.

“What would you like me to do, Jack?” he asked the rather portly Jack Baker, an ex-ranker, commissioned from the ranks to quartermaster because of his wizardry with anything to do with things logistic.

“Give them a hand in the G10 store, will you Dan?” Jack responded. “They’ll be pulling their hair out in there this afternoon. Just having an officer there helps smooth the way.”

“On my way,” said Kelly. He turned out of the office and immediately bumped into Gareth Owen.

“Dan!” exclaimed Owen. “You’re still here then? I presumed you would have died from boredom. What are you doing at this moment?” Kelly explained what the QM had asked of him. “Oh! They’ll manage,” said Owen poking his head through the QM’s door he called, “I’ve stolen Dan, Jack.”

“I’ll have you for misappropriation of His Majesty’s naval assets,” called the QM. Owen walked away, laughing, two fingers held in the air. He and Kelly moved into Owen’s office, and Kelly took the seat in front of the desk whilst Owen moved to the other side.

“How was it?” asked Kelly. “I heard the show had been postponed.”

“Bloody shambles, Dan,” said Owen angrily, “an absolute bloody shambles. They are talking as if the show is temporarily postponed but they will have to call it off! Security has been breached, so we will have no element of surprise at all.”

“Have the men been briefed?” asked Kelly. “If so then there is no hope that the plan can remain secure. Some of them are bound to say something when they’ve had a few pints.”

“Not only have our men been briefed,” explained Owen, “So have about 7000 other personnel, including 5000 Canadians. By tomorrow morning everyone in the USA will know the plan.”

He banged his fist onto the desk.

“They can’t still go ahead; it would be bloody madness!” he said, swivelling his chair so that he was peering out the window. He watched the commandos, many of them young men, as they scurried about returning stores and generally being busy, before turning back to face Kelly. “It would be slaughter,” he said quietly.

Kelly nodded but said nothing.

They remained quiet for a few moments before Owen looked up. He exhaled. “Thanks for listening, Dan. I needed to get that off my chest. Now, I’m going to kick you out of my office and ponder what your role will be. The problem I have is that we are fully up to staffing levels in terms of Troop Commanders and 2ICs. On the other hand, I don’t want you to be sculling around as a dogsbody. Leave it with me and I’ll sleep on it, after a half dozen g and t’s.”

Kelly was about to leave when Owen added, “That sounds like the CO just returned. I’ll introduce you.” So saying, he rose from his seat and moved towards the door.

Owen knocked on the CO’s door and entered, when called to do so. Lieutenant Colonel Daneph ‘Tigger’ Phillips looked tired and frustrated, but he greeted Kelly warmly. They chatted amiably about general things before Kelly took his leave. Phillips called after him. “Gareth will sort things out, Dan.”

Kelly was seconded to Two Troop as a supernumerary officer. It wasn’t a perfect situation, but he made the best of it and joined in enthusiastically with the ongoing training. Most of this training was based around a beach assault, so it seemed clear that the plan was still on.

Towards the end of the month Tigger called a meeting of all officers. Owen opened the meeting to address a few minor issues of housekeeping, and then handed over to the CO.

“Gentlemen, it’s still on!”

No one said a word, but the silence spoke volumes. Every man in that room knew this was a mistake.

Phillips left a space for comments, but none came. He had expected this response. Nodding he went on, “Operation ‘Rutter’ is dead, but operation Jubilee has been born and is thriving. The main thing that has changed appears to be the name.” The CO mopped non-existent perspiration from his brow. “Phew!” he exclaimed. “For