Chapter 2

After offering to get her another coffee, which she refused, I left as politely as I could, and headed for one of my daytime hidey-holes to think about all this activity today. I was not used to meeting and socialising with so many people almost at once, so it was fairly stressful overall. It made me realise I had been existing on my own for far too long, ever since I had allowed my gambling to take over my life. I had not placed a single bet since that shock of seeing how much I was in debt to the betting company.

No matter what they advertise, the only winners at betting in the long run are the betting company, not the punters. I had finally accepted that and took the only way out – vanish from the system. No identity given, no known address, seemingly no contact number, and of course no job, as any employment puts you on official records again and so findable by those who are looking for you.

The army of course did not think I was dead, just moved to another unspecified unit related to Intelligence operations, so they continued paying what I was due into my numbered account. As far as the pay people knew, I was presently working for an undercover intelligence unit and thus uncontactable. It is amazing how easy it is to convince administrators, as long as all the right forms are filled in and correctly submitted to the military system. What the forms actually state is immaterial to paying the soldier’s emolument entitlement. The documentation declares you are in the army, so they pay you at the bank account number you gave them.

Form-filling is an art in itself. The trick is to first of all read the instructions in their entirety, because often the required answer is self-evident, and doesn’t even have to be true; as long as it fits the question posed. If ever I was queried, a statement that my present work is secret so I must supply my cover information instead, explains the discrepancy and absolves it. Job done!

So I continue to receive my pay as an officer and nothing is queried again. No-one wishes to break the cover of an agent of the crown. I try to live without using a credit card and with no recognisable residence, so my costs are minimal and I pay them using an old bank account that I added to, pre-army service. I go into the branch and withdraw some cash at irregular intervals, usually just as they are ending the day and want rid of me sharpish so they can cash up and leave. I am a nuisance to get shot of, not someone to notice.

Then as I thought back to the coffee shop, my heart sank at an observation I had not considered properly; that at the back of the coffee shop all three tables were occupied, with only one free seat available. As I had agreed to sit at the back, had this pattern been arranged by Smith? Had all the spaces been taken by his people in advance, so that I would end up facing Euphemia and have to engage with her? Was she a plant from his organisation, inserted to keep an eye on me afterwards, or a chance arrival? Certainly she was a lot more chatty than I would have expected, and more interested in me and my life than I would have desired. Was it all genuine, or pre-planned to draw me into Smith’s web?

I had no way of knowing which it was, so perforce I had to live with it as it was for now. Work on the basis that she was a genuine chance encounter, unless later evidence suggested otherwise. It was not the sort of situation I liked, but as long as I prepared myself to see both possibilities, then I could live with it.

I next thought over the proposed job that he wanted done. As it was not an immediate task, that meant there was no panic involved; it had to be a planned operation where he needed a means of extracting something in an apparently innocent or accidental occurrence that could happen anytime, anywhere. Certainly theft of a handbag was not uncommon, so presume that something was in that bag that Smith wanted, but needed obtaining in a way that would not arouse suspicion. That suggested a female operative working undercover and needing to pass on information to her boss.

My own thoughts in that line would be a recording of a discussion, but not in a noticeable way; so no recording device sitting in the handbag. But if the handbag was specially built to record sound on a device hidden inside the bag’s construction, then ‘stealing’ the bag and handing it over to another operative; yes, that would make sense. The operative would extract the device from the handbag, however that was done, and I would be asked to dump it where a thief might discard it after stealing its valuables – purse and possibly a mobile phone – and the bag could then be found where it now lay, empty.

That suggested to me a waste bin or a dark corner where a rushed thief would toss it so as to not be caught with it in his possession. Whatever. Deal with it as it comes, was my attitude. The other possible ruse would be a swap of identical handbags, which to me seemed simpler. I would raise it in our conversation. Later the same day I got a ‘heads-up’ that the operation was scheduled provisionally for next Thursday evening, but confirmation would follow.

Next day, I got a phone text message from the history teacher to say that she has had boys talking about going into the army when they finished school, and she would be grateful if I could come and talk about army life. I thought about it for a while, then replied saying I could talk to them about the history of warfare, as I believed it might open their eyes, I got a swift reply, accepting my offer, and giving me her class timetable for that age of pupil: teenagers all.

Not having any commitment for some days ahead, I selected a date and informed Phemie that I could be there to talk to that class. I asked her to introduce me as Alec, a professional soldier, and so able to tell it as it is. I had visions of her expecting me to turn up draped in ammunition and wielding a Kalashnikov, but she would be wrong. I arrived wearing beige slacks, a T-shirt, and a light jacket, as I wanted them to pay attention to my words, and not my attire.

I was introduced as asked, and told the class, “Kids, what I am about to say will shock you. I am going to talk about history!” gave them a few seconds to absorb this curious revelation, then went on, “The history of warfare is just that: history, the history of war in all its guises.” Pause again, then continued, “It is also all about being clever, and learning things, thus the title of this talk today: Warfare – The art of cleverness.

Shocks, you, doesn’t it? Cleverness, yes, cleverness. You thought that being a bully is all that is needed to win? It is all about might? Well, think again, for history tells you different. Yes, that word history again, kids; it keeps jumping up at you, for it is an example of real life.

History is learning ABOUT what went before, and cleverness is learning FROM what went before. This why generals play war games during peace time: They test out what works and what doesn’t, but every war is actually different from expectation, and that difference is based on learning from the past. Infantry can usually be defeated by cavalry, and that was the case in the 19th century, but the twentieth century taught us that cavalry are useless against mechanised armies. Change happens, or you die. Never forget that. I said ‘usually’ but the battle of Bannockburn between Robert the Bruce’s forces and King Edward of England’s forces was an example where conditions make difference. The Scottish infantry were trained as a schiltron, a sort of hedge of long spears, and they didn’t have to move much, as most of the surrounding land was marshy. Marshy land is not good ground for horses, and when the only way ahead is through a forest of sharp spears, the cavalry horses failed to break through and when they retreated in confusion, the rest of Edward’s army fled. The perceived notion that cavalry always defeats infantry was overturned in that case. Anyway, back to the main story.

Let’s start with early mankind: humans with very little technology, and certainly no metals; only stone. It was the stone age and every tool was made of stone; but not any old stone. Certain types of stone were better in certain ways than others, so if you were clever you found what was the best material for the task facing you. If you wanted to make an axehead, you used a hard volcanic stone found in the mountains, a stone that could also be shaped and worked. You had to go looking for the best stone for your job, so stone age explorers were often looking for particular types of stone, just like later people would go looking for copper, lead, tin, and iron. Cleverness was already the best option.

The first soldiers were actually hunters at a time of hunter-gatherers, long before farming began. The first enemies to be fought were not humans; they were wild animals: bears, lions, wolves and the massive auroch. Never heard of the auroch? That is because it was conquered by man and slowly bred to be smaller and a bit more tractable, and today we call them cattle. That large bull at a farm is a converted auroch, but that origin is why a bull is so fierce and has to be handled carefully.

Human weapons started with pointy sticks and thrown stones. The pointed sticks first got fire-hardened points to work well, then got better designed – straighter and more complicated – until we know them as spears. The early spear points were made of sharp stone, and the best of these spearheads were made of obsidian. What? Never heard of obsidian? This is where cleverness comes in again. Stone age clever men discovered that some old mountains contained a brittle black glass made by the now dead volcano, and so they tested it for what it could do. It turned out that when chipped, the exposed edges were extremely sharp. Modern tests have shown that obsidian tools were as sharp as a today’s surgeon’s scalpel, perhaps sharper; so never think that stone age man was stupid. He was like you and me, but didn’t have all the modern inventions we have to assist us.

So we have hunters with sharp knives and sharp spears, and that boosted their chances against wild animals, including the mammoth, which was a giant shaggy-haired elephant. We humans hunted them for meat; hunted them to extinction, it appears. Little humans, tens of thousand of years ago, managed to kill giant elephants that had huge curved tusks; so many were killed that in the Siberian tundra tens of thousands of years ago the humans built shelters using huge ivory tusks as supports for their hide covering. Tusks are great when there is a shortage of trees for wood to build with. So far, we haven’t touched on actual warfare, which is humans fighting humans. And the simple reason is that as long as there is enough food for everyone, and plenty of space to live on, why fight? It does not make sense to fight for no good reason.

Here again, cleverness comes in. When one tribe meets another tribe, the decision is actually about what is better for your people: Fight, with people dying on both sides, and weakening the tribes, or cooperate and work together to expand your hunting territory and share your successes. Which would you choose, if you were being clever? Obviously, cooperate.

The other advantage of cooperation is that of genetics – though back then they didn’t know about genetics, but were aware that breeding with close relatives was bad in the long term for your tribe. So the clever people of each tribe encouraged males of one tribe to marry females of the other tribe, and in a generation or two, you are all one large tribe, and genetically healthier at the same time. Cleverness is often acting on observation to get the best deal. As time goes on, your tribes assimilate with other tribes, until between you, you have used up all the countryside available for hunting. It is time to expand beyond your known boundaries, and you have several choices, depending on what you find.

If the new countryside is empty of humans, you take it over, and that is how most humans spread around the planet. If there are other humans in that new countryside, you either agree with them for you to send new groups through their land on the way to empty land, or you come into conflict with them. Mostly, passage was negotiated to avoid your tribe taking a load of your game, but it did not always work out that way.

The most likely reason to come into conflict is if they and you have different ideas about how to live: what gods to worship, what type of social structure do you have in your tribe, what foods are acceptable and which are banned. These are a few examples, but it always boils down to: Is there a cultural difference between you and them such that you can’t live in peace?

Many examples in history show that groups will fight over the ‘right’ gods to worship, or does your tribe want to live under the control of their king instead of your own, or do they practice food rituals or human sacrifice that you find abhorrent? Wars have been fought over such differences, but none of them are sensible; just different. At times, some tribes would kill twin children at birth because they were different and therefore dangerous; not based on any facts, just working on assumptions of them being unnatural, deviations from the normal.

The Nazis killed millions of Jews because they were different in how they worshipped and how they lived. That was sufficiently abnormal to be regarded as somehow dangerous, and made it a great excuse for teaching your people to kill those of other countries or other faiths. Once you get a community used to killing people, you can use them in wars without them fretting about simple ancient religious injunctions such as ‘You shall not kill’.

The modern soldier, brought up on this ethical ‘don’t kill’ ideal has to be taught that killing in war is a military obligation on the front line, but it is never a pleasant task, and never to be done against anyone but enemy combatants who want to kill you. The best outcome where it is possible is to capture the enemy rather than kill him.

That is enough for today. Next time I will talk about weapons; what they are, what they are used for, and why use particular weapons and not others. Now, any questions?”

Several hands shot up. I picked one boy that seemed taller and heavier built. “Yes?” “Sir, have you killed many people?” Right to the heart of it all! I pretended to think, then said, “As far as I know, none.”

That rocked him and caused him to say accusingly, “But you are a soldier!” “Yes,” I agreed, “but you have to realise this about armies: only about ten per cent of an army does the fighting. A large part of an army is logistics, supplying everything the front-line soldier needs: water, food – including field kitchens and chefs to produce good food, ammunition to fit the weapons you will use, replacement weapons and parts for them, medical services for those who get injured; and a unit that deals with the dead bodies of those who get killed. There are chaplains in the army as well, for all the main faiths. As well as the above, there are the engineering regiments, that build bridges or demolish them, construct bastions against enemy fire, and so on. Their job is not to fight, but to permit other soldiers to fight more efficiently.