Operation: Yukon

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So there I was, newly promoted Sergeant Wiggins but with no time to celebrate. We’d only been back at base a day when the Canadian distress call had us in transit faster than shite off a shovel. I had a plane to catch, a squad to get kitted out, a best man’s speech to write and, to cap it all, I found that my newly appointed corporal was a right tosser.

Let’s deal with the tosser first. The colonel passed him on to the cap who passed him on to me. I didn’t know anything about him beyond that he’d come up from Edinburgh that morning and that he’d done a recent tour of duty somewhere in the Middle East. It didn’t take me long to learn most of what I needed to know though. It wasn’t love at first sight. He had one of those supercilious grins that set my teeth on edge straight away, his handshake was too warm, too soft, and his first words to me in the locker room were, “Are those two privates going to give me any trouble? I’ve never worked with a darkie and a poof before.”

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