At five minutes past ten a taxi pulled up outside and the driver came in. He said something to the desk clerk and
Avedissian knew from the way that they looked in his
direction that he must be the subject of their conversation.
The driver came towards him and said, 'Mr Avedissian?'
Avedissian nodded and they left.
The journey took about half an hour but Avedissian was
surprised when the driver said, 'Here we are. Llangern
Farm road-end,' for the place where they had stopped
appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. Avedissian got out
his wallet but the driver said, 'All taken care of.' Avedissian
gave him a pound anyway and watched as the taxi did a
three-point turn and disappeared back down the road to
town.
It was still and hot and the hedgerows buzzed with busi
ness of summer. Avedissian wanted to sit down but
somehow felt that he should remain conspicuous. He
loosened his collar and began to pace up and down. At first it
was ten paces in both directions but then further as boredom
dictated.
After ten minutes he heard the sound of an approaching
engine and looked along the road in both directions, unable to decide where the noise was coming from. As it grew louder
Avedissian realised that it was not coming from the road at all.
A small military vehicle was coming towards him across the
fields. It drew to a halt and a shirt-sleeved sergeant beckoned to
him. 'In you get, sir.'
There was no opportunity for conversation above the sound of the Land-Rover's engine so Avedissian contented himself with
the view and concentrated on keeping his backside in contact
with the seat as the vehicle bounced over the Brecon moor
land.
Distance was difficult to judge but Avedissian reckoned that
they had travelled about three miles from the road when they reached a track leading up to some gates which were almost obscured by a copse of conifers. The vehicle slowed and
Avedissian said, 'I take it we have arrived.'
'Llangern House,’ replied the sergeant.
The house was impressively large and Avedissian was moved to
wonder who had built it where it stood and why. The answers
obviously lay in the last century but he did not bother to ask for
there were more important things to consider as the sergeant
took his bag from the back and led the way inside.
A young man bearing the insignia of a captain in the army,
but like the sergeant bearing no regimental badges, stood up to meet them.
'You must be wondering what this is all about,’ he said to
Avedissian.
'A bit,’ agreed Avedissian as they shook hands and the officer indicated that he should sit down.
'Quite simply, you are here for a bit of a tone up.'
The captain smiled as Avedissian repeated the phrase
slowly. 'Yes,’ he said, 'You know the sort of thing - a spot of
running, bit of hill walking, some PT, general improvement
in fitness, that sort of thing.'
'I'm a doctor, not a football player,' Avedissian pro
tested.
'Oh really?' said the captain, 'I didn't know that. Says here you're an ex-Para.'
'That was years ago.'
'Well, never mind. It's a bit like riding a bike really. You
never really forget.'
Avedissian did not agree but said nothing.
'We get all sorts here,' said the captain. 'Bit like a health
farm I suppose. Wouldn't you say so, Sergeant?'
'Yes sir, quite so sir.'
Avedissian felt even more uneasy.
'Now, Sergeant, perhaps you would show Mr, sorry, Dr
Avedissian here to his quarters.' The captain turned to Avedissian and said, 'When you have settled in we would
like you to see the MO. Come to think of it, you two should
have lots in common, both being doctors and all.'
Avedissian emptied out what little there was in his travel
bag and stowed it away in a bedside locker. He put the bottle
of gin at the back and concealed it as best he could. He was
already depressed for he had felt sure that he would learn
something about his job today but now that seemed unlikely. He had been sent to summer camp.
The sergeant was waiting for Avedissian when he re
turned downstairs and said, 'If you will just follow me, sir.'
Avedissian dutifully trotted along behind him until they
came to a glass door marked Unit Medical Officer. The
sergeant knocked and stood back to let Avedissian enter
first.
'Mr . . . er . . . Dr Avedissian,' announced the sergeant.
The sergeant left and Avedissian and the Medical Officer
sized each other up. 'I didn't know you were a doctor,’ said
the MO.
'I'm not but I was,’ said Avedissian.
'Oh I see. One of those,’ said the MO.
'Not exactly,’ said Avedissian coldly.
'Well, no matter. Take your clothes off.'
Avedissian stripped and answered questions as the MO
filled in a large pink form. The questionnaire, Avedissian deduced, had been designed to ascertain his present level of
fitness.
'Play any games?'
'No.'
'Jog?'
'No'.
'Take any exercise at all?'
'No.’
The MO completed a list of negatives and said, 'Right
then. Let's take a look at you.’
Avedissian marked mental time as he underwent the examination and the MO filled in the blanks on a yellow
sheet. Height, weight, blood pressure, pulse, lung function, chest expansion.
'Do you wear glasses?'
'For reading.’
'Ah yes, Anno Domini.’
'Quite,’ said Avedissian flatly.
The MO completed his examination and put down his
forms. He folded his arms and said, 'Quite frankly,
Avedissian, you're a wreck. What the hell have you been
doing to yourself?'
Avedissian shrugged his shoulders but did not reply.
'Booze,’ said the MO, answering his own question. 'Still,
the damage is nothing that a bit of exercise and some decent
meals won't cure. You can go now.'
As Avedissian finished dressing and turned to leave the
MO asked, 'Did you bring any with you?'
'No,’ Avedissian lied. He closed the door and rejoined the
sergeant who had been waiting for him in the corridor. He
was taken to the quartermaster where the kit that was
issued did little to restore his morale, for it comprised three
sets of military fatigues, waterproof clothing, two pairs of
boots, a knife, a compass, a map-case and mess tins.
'Anything else you will require will be issued to you as
you need it,' said the sergeant.
Avedissian was acutely aware of a strong physical
element in what had been implied or said since his arrival. It
made him uneasy. He was not at all reassured by references
to 'a bit of exercise' or 'a spot of this or that' for, to him, it
smacked of practised military understatement, the sort of
mentality that dismissed World War Two as a 'bit of bother'.
His line of thought became defensive.
The sergeant took Avedissian back to his room and left
him to consider his options. His first thought was to wonder
whether or not he actually had any. He was not in the
army, he reasoned. They could not make him do anything
he did not want to do. He could leave at any time. That was
the theory but when he thought about what would actually
happen in practice things were not so clearly defined. If he
walked out through the door he would be a figure on the
landscape. He would have no job, no prospects and no
future. Did that seem attractive? Avedissian introduced a
working hypothesis of hoping for the best.
Avedissian came down to dinner at seven as instructed
and joined his fellow guests. Like him they were all wearing
dark green fatigues with name tags above, the left breast
pocket. A tall man with short cropped hair came towards
him and said, 'I'm Paul Jarvis, we will be working together.'
Avedissian shook hands and feared the worst, for Jarvis
was in his mid-twenties and struck him as being as hard as a
rock. He prayed that 'working together' did not hold an
element of competition.
A tall, spare man with the rank of major rose to his feet
and welcomed them to Llangern. It was day one for all of them, he said, and introduced the staff, six in all, who were
to be addressed by rank alone. Military discipline would be
observed at all times but bull would be kept to a minimum
and allowances would be made for the fact that some
members of the course were unfamiliar with what that
entailed. Avedissian hoped that that would include him and
glanced round at the others. There were about twenty of
them including five women. All of them looked younger
than he did.
'I understand you were a Para,' said Jarvis as he and Avedissian sat down to eat together.
'A long time ago and only for a while,' replied Avedissian,
wishing that people would stop referring to his military
service.
'And then you became a doctor?'
'Yes,' replied Avedissian. So Jarvis knew about him, he
thought. Perhaps he knew the reasons for his being there. 'You seem to know a lot about me,' he said. 'But I know
nothing about you.'
There's not much to say really. I'm twenty-six, I have a
BA in history from the University of Leeds and I'm a serving
officer in the Royal Marines.'
'You're a commando?'
'Yes.'
'Then what on earth are you doing here? You can hardly
need a "bit of exercise", as they keep calling it.'
Jarvis smiled and said, 'I don't, but you do. That's why
I'm here.' His smile became even broader when he saw the
look that appeared on Avedissian's face.
Avedissian felt that his worst fears were being realised. He
now had his own personal Marine Commando to put him
through hell. This is all a bit ridiculous,’ he protested. 'I'm a
doctor! I am thirty-seven years old!'
'So was James Bond,’ said Jarvis.
'Pardon?'
The Bond books. James Bond was thirty-seven.’
Avedissian could see that his chances of attracting any
sympathy were remote. He changed the subject and asked,
'What's the purpose of all this?'
Jarvis replied, 'I'm as much in the dark as you are. All I
know is that I have been seconded to a special mission. I was
told that I would be working with a doctor, an ex-Para who
might be a bit rusty, and I was to see that he should get back
into reasonable shape.'
'Just what does reasonable shape mean?' asked
Avedissian bringing his fears into the open.
'Don't worry too much,’ Jarvis smiled. 'No one is going to
try to turn you into a cold-eyed assassin who can kill a man with one flick of his big toe. My instructions are to see that
you can suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
and occasionally hit back if necessary.’
When they had finished eating the major got to his feet
again and said that they should all have an early night. He added that, before retiring, they should lay out their clothes
in such a manner as to permit dressing in complete dark
ness. If an alarm should sound they should be 'on parade' in
the hall within two and a half minutes. 'Any questions?' he
asked.