Chapter 25: New Finger

I moved my kit from the Barracks room that we had used the previous night across to the Finger One Barracks. This was a move from one side of the semi-circle to the other, from the furtherest East to the furtherest West. My new barracks was right on the bank of the river. I stood in the door and waited to see what would happen next.

After a short while the Cadre Finger Leaders started sending warriors out to the different barracks; I could hear them calling names and then see the warriors leaving the formation to return to their original barracks, collect their kit and move to their new homes, just as I had done. Three warriors came to my new barracks to collect their kit and move out before the first of my new finger arrived to join me. As he walked up to the barracks carrying his kit, I tried to guess what sort of man he was. He was tall, somewhere over six feet, and very bulky. I couldn't tell whether this was a hold-over from his previous build or not, but he looked as if he was a typical body-builder with an extreme development of his muscles. As he came up the stairs, he looked at me without saying anything, until I realised that he was waiting for me to clear the path into the barracks. I moved aside and let him in. When he had dumped his kit, I was waiting on the ground in front of the barracks and I asked him his name.

"I'm Bradley," he grunted and came to a stop next to me. We both watched as the rest of my new finger straggled in one by one. It took about ten minutes for the rest to gather. Once the last straggler was there, I looked them over.

"My name is Cy Peters. Being appointed as a 'knuckle' to a new Finger has been a huge surprise for me, so I have probably just as little idea what to expect as you do. I think we should spend some time introducing ourselves while we wait for more information. I come from Durban in South Africa and I was in the Army there. I saw combat in Angola and Namibia at section level in Motorised Infantry, and then later on as part of a Mechanised Battalion Group near the Lomba river. I was a reserve force soldier for twenty three years, doing time in the army for between thirty and ninety days every year. My last deployment was as a company commander on peace keeping operations in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, although there wasn't all the much peace to keep up in the North East where we were. Before I joined up for War World, I was the battalion training officer. You might recognise me from the Combat Competition. Brad, what about you?"

"Bradley Commons. Called Brad, not Bradley," came the surly response. I was British Army. Got to Staff Sergeant and they kicked me out. Wouldn't let me stay in for my thirty years cause I wasn't a Sgt Major. Did a few tours in Ireland, one in Aden. Latest was a tour to the Sand-Box."

"Thanks Brad. Next?" I asked of a short wiry man.

"Jeremy Ellis. Jerry to my friends. Originally from Kenya. I was the son of British expatriates and I volunteered for the British Army and ended up doing the P course. I instructed for a while on secondment from the Paras. Did a combat tour in Cyprus fighting the Greeks. I got out after my five years but found I was getting bored on my Dad's farm, so I signed up with Mad Mike Hoare. Did two contracts with him in the Congo. After that I had had enough soldiering, so I bought a farm in Rhodesia. I was in the BSAP there and did a lot of tracking. I have been retired for a long time now and was living in Mooi River."

"Interesting. Seems we have eaten some of the same dust," I said with a smile. "You didn't live that far away from me either. Next?"

"That'll be me." The voice came from a woman around 5'8" in height with a close-cropped head of brown hair. "I'm Shelly Booth. Grew up in Chicago. I have no military background, but I know weapons and fighting." The last was said with a touch of defiance.

"I would be interested to know where you learnt about those Shelly?" I probed gently.

"I ran with a gang," came the succinct reply.

"Ok. Makes sense. That's Brad, Jerry and Shelly. Next please?"

"Bill Riley. I did twelve years in the US Army. My last tour was with the 10th Mountain in the Stan."

"Light Infantryman hey? Carry light, Sleep Cold." I grinned at Bill. "What rank?"

"I left as a Sgt. Up or Out got me RIFd".

I could see that there was an incredible amount of resentment there. Bill had the classic American soldier's build; heavy in the arms and shoulders.

"OK. And you?" This was to the last member of the finger. A short, blond, Barbie type.

"I grew up on a farm in Wyoming. Lived around horses and did pulled my weight but I got sick of being the butte of Dumb Blonde jokes. I decided to take the opportunity when it came up. I lost one brother to Desert Storm and another to an IED in Iraq just last year. I figured that if they had been alive, they might have liked to take advantage of this opportunity, so I came in their place."