Halfway Round The World

By Paul Armstrong & Kevin McCormick

Barry Taylor was deep in thought. Very deep in thought. Not that this was unusual for the man dubbed as the Prince of Trivia, but his mind really was working overtime today. He sat in the small cabin of the helicopter, the only type of aircraft able to land at the airport he was bound for. The other passengers all sat in silence, reading books or newspapers. Barry had tried to strike up a conversation with the middle aged man sat beside him but it was obvious from the short sharp replies he wanted to be left alone. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested in Barrys’ theories on the population explosion of the king penguin. He accepted that the trip was going to non-eventful and quiet and looked down at the Scotia Sea. Soon he would touch down at Mount Pleasant airport, or what was left of it, and he thought about absent loved ones. Barry felt depressed. He was a long way from home, and a long way from Hazel.

Hazel was the girl Barry had recently re-kindled a relationship with. In a matter of months since his return from Germany, they had got back together after two years apart, been on a foreign holiday….and got engaged. Quite a world wind achievement for a man with Barry’s record in matters of the opposite sex. What troubled him was how easily Hazel had allowed him to go away and leave her for six months, how she’d seemed almost…..glad?. But after all it was a job. And they needed the money to buy a nice house for themselves, especially with a forthcoming wedding. However, work in the Black Country was hard to come by, and Barry was having no luck. So as out of the blue as Oz’s phone call was, it was indeed very much appreciated. Barry allowed his mind to drift back to that Sunday evening, almost five weeks ago.

Barry had sat in the sitting room of his mum’s house, his residence at the time. He had just finished reading the jobs section of the local newspaper. "Nothing there is there son?", asked Barry’s mam, half knowing the answer already. "Na", droned Barry. "The amount of street lights and phone boxes there are between Tipton and Bromwich, and there’s still no room for electricians."

"So why don’t you start that business you were on about, I can help you out with the money", offered Barry’s mam in a kind voice. Barry looked at the floor considering for a moment.

"I’ll need more than what we can afford to set me’ self up in business. Naw I’ll have to think of something else. I’ll just keep trying the job centres. Better start trying further afield an’ all , it’s not as if somethings gonna drop out of the blue is it?".

However, that was what was just about to happen. From outside in the hallway, the shrill sound of the telephone echoes sauntered in under the living room door. "I’ll get it, it’s probably Hazel", said Barry. He picked up the phone and realized straight away that he would have to listen hard. The line was terrible. It was crackly as though it was a long distance call. And who ever was phoning was obviously in a phone box, as wind could be heard screaming past the callers mouth piece, a force nine gale by the sound of it! Barry thought he would never be able to understand anyone on the other end of this line. He was wrong, the other voice was unmistakable.

"Barry!", cried Oz in his usual undiplomatic tones. Barry was in complete shock. What did Oz want?

The phone call had lasted about five minutes, about all the loose change Oz had for the phone, or more likely, how little he was willing to put in to the phone instead of the pub till. However, Oz kept everything to a point. He had been in the Falklands for a month, helping to rebuild a ravaged airstrip on East Island. He had gone there after getting a taste for working abroad in Dusselldorf, even though he had no time for foreigners. The point was that they were short of electricians. Oz still had Barry’s number written down in his wallet. Barry had given out of these slips of paper to all of the lads after they posed for that daft photograph outside of hut B. Oz knew Barry quite well, and thought maybe he could fit the bill for one of the electricians. Barry had to think about it long and hard. How would Hazel feel? How would his mum feel? He would HE feel? And was he really ready to put up with Oz again so soon. Barry had taken the number of the barracks where Oz was staying, and told him he would let him know.

After much deliberation Barry had decided to throw caution to the wind and go. Hazel had agreed, on the grounds of money, but his mother was full of worry. "The Falklands!", she had cried, "Why do you want to go to the Falklands?". But Barry’s mind was made up. He needed the money, and a short spell abroad would probably just about swing it.

The vibration of the helicopter hitting the tarmac threw Barry out of his thoughts and back to the present day. He looked out of the window at the bleakness of Mount Pleasant airport with it’s treeless horizon. The pilot emerged through the cabin door and opened the main hatchway of the aircraft. Barry could feel the cold air rush in to the aircraft. The pilot noticed the look of gloom on Barry’s face. "Welcome to paradise", he said with a grin. Barry didn’t appreciate the joke. He was in no mood to smile. His mind was full of regret as he walked across the tarmac towards the small customs building. He got through passport control no problems and quickly found the clapped out bus that was taking him, and a load of other immigrant workers to the rendezvous for the new arrivals. The bus took off and after a short journey to what seemed like the other end of the airport, they approached another building, the name of which Oz had given to him; where he had agreed to meet him. Very much as Barry expected, Oz was nowhere to be seen. However a young man in a black coat was approaching him. From a distance he resembled Wayne, but his accent was pure Belfast. "Mr. Taylor", said the man.

"Yes, Barry, Barry Taylor, are you a friend of Oz?"

"I’m not a friend of anyone. Internal Falkland Police. I’m here to investigate your drug running activities", said the Irishman is a very serious tone. Barry suddenly felt his blood run cold, and he began to stammer. "D d d drugs? No there’s some mistake there must be, I’m an electrician", he blurted.

"Well I’m informed that cocaine is more your line Barry". The Irishman took Barry’s arm and began leading down the corridor. All the way down, Barry was trying to plead his innocence. After a while they got to the door of a Gentleman’s toilet. Why was he being led here? The Irishman perked up again. "Don’t you have any remorse for what you do. People like you make me sick." Barry then noticed a smirk on the Irishman’s face. The young Brummie smelled a rat. From inside the toilet a loud laughter could be heard. Barry broke free of the Irishman and opened the door. Inside he saw Oz, holding his sides, in uncontrollable hysterics. The Irishman soon followed suit. It had been a setup. Once more Barry did not appreciate the joke.

"Argh come on man Barry lighten up", yelled Oz, still suffering for the laughter.

"That wasn’t bloody funny you know. I had visions of sitting in some military prison with only the rats and an Argie spy for company", moaned Barry. They were sat on a bench outside the building. A military truck pulled up and Oz and his Irish friend, Andy, climbed aboard. Barry threw his things in and climbed in as well. The truck pulled off and within ten minutes they arrived at the job. Mount Pleasant airstrip had been completely ravaged in the chaos that had recently ended. The three men got out and began walking towards their digs. Fortunately, Barry knew in advance that the sleeping arrangements would be Dusseldorf revisited. HPS (Hardened Personnel Shelter) Alpha was a bland grey concrete building facing the western point of the airstrip. "This is home then is it", asked Barry.

"Home?", laughed Oz, "Its more like prison. It’s a shame they didn’t need any plasterers, ‘cause Moxey would blend right in."

"So what are we working on at the moment", queried Barry.

"The control tower", Andy cut in. "The runways just about sorted as you can see, but they can’t fly anything in until air traffics up and running."

"Is there anything in the way of recreation?", Barry asked half-heartedly.

Oz belched "Wey there’s a workers bar like, but it’s nowt startling. There nee jukebox, nee pool table, nee dartboard, and all there is to drink is cans of Co-Op lager that get flown in every week. Reminds me of sitting in the bus stops of Gateshead when I was aboot fourteen."

"There’s a few pubs in Stanley but it’s about an hour away" added Andy

Inside, HPS Alpha looked no prettier. Row upon row of hard metal bunk beds with ancient looking mattresses on were practically all that the eye could see. Except in one corner was something that made Barry feel a little happier. A table tennis table. "Oh bustin’ a ping pong table, does anyone want a game like, before we start work?"

"Nar", Oz bellowed undiplomatically, "Coont me oot a that. I’d rather be back in Dusseldorf playin’ bridge with the Turks!"

"Well it’ll help while away the evening, especially if the beers not so good", replied Barry in futile hope.

A whistle blew outside and was reinforced with a bell ringing on the wall. Oz spat on the floor and shook his head. "Just dump your stuff Barry" He turned to Andy, "Hey when are they gonna knock this on the head?". The Irishman looked just as little pleased.

"When the Argies come back", mused Andy wistfully.

"What’s going on asked?", asked Barry.

"Fire drill", grunted Oz. "As if two-hundred tons of concrete’s gonna ignite in the mid-day sun."

"Where do we go?"

"To the taxi way. Then there’ll be a roll call."

"Who by?"

"Our esteemed gaffer on site, Warrant Officer Cork.", replied Oz with the tone which told Barry that whoever Warrant Officer Cork was, he was not very popular with Oz. Then again, which gaffers were?.

Outside the workers gathered in a half hearted rabble. Oz stood with his hands in the pockets of his long beige jacket, with a shawl wrapped around his head. He looked a sight thought Barry. After a few moments, a tall scrawny man in uniform and gold rimmed glasses approached. Instinct told Barry that this was W.O. Cork. Cork stood in front of the assembled mass and cleared his throat. "Quiet.", yelled Cork, "Answer when your name is called". Oz and Andy started mimicking his voice.

Together they mouthed quietly, "When you have answered you may return to the barracks".

"When you have answered you may return to the barracks", shouted Cork. Cork began bleating out names from a list. After a while Andy’s name was called. He stood to one side to wait for Oz and Barry.

It took about ten minutes to call all of the names, there was quite a large workforce. Barry was the last to be called. Oz and Andy were waiting by the barracks kicking their heels in boredom. Cork approached Barry. "You must be the new electrician." said Cork in a matter of fact way.

"Yes Barry, Barry Tay…",

"Your working with the re-wiring team on the north approach to the runway", snapped Cork before Barry could finish introducing himself. Barry swallowed hard, and was genuinely intimidated by the skinny gaffer. He watched as Cork walked away without a parting comment, then went over to join Andy and Oz. "Nice guy eh?", asked Andy.

"What’s his problem?", enquired Barry.

"Tek nee notice Barry," bellowed Oz, "He turns up everyday like his cats took a slash on his cornflakes. Look it’s getting late, let’s go and get a bite to eat and have a few pints" Looking at Barry with his thin coat on he added "You’d better rug up too, it’s gets freezing later on"

Sat in the working men’s club made Barry realise how good they had it in Germany and curse his ‘trusty’ BSA for not being able to go the distance and fail in reaching Saudi. They were sat at a table playing pontoon and the wind outside was starting to get up. Under the door and around windows blew draughts, blowing cards and empty cans off tables. Looking nervously around he expected to see the whole building take off and transport them to the land of Oz.

"Are you twisting or sticking Barry?" asked Andy.

"Er, I’ll twist" Another gust came and again Barry looked nervously around.

"What’s up Barry man"

"Is this place safe. I keep thinking we’ll take off and land in Argentina"

"Safe as hooses. This place withstood Argie bombs and bullets ya naah. A bit of wind won’t harm it"

"Sounds like a bloody hurricane out there" Barry put down his cards which totaled twenty-four. Andy, who was banker, took Barry’s coins and dealt everyone another hand while Oz bought another round of the Co-op’s finest. Looking at the other patrons Barry gave a sigh, "Can’t think what possessed me to come here"

Oz looked around and belched "Why, what’s wrong with it like?"

He didn’t answer, just sighing again. Andy winked at Oz, "Why don’t we go out and pick up a couple of birds"

"No thank you very much. I will not be unfaithful to my Haze!"

"I’m not talking about women, I’m talking about penguins. This wind blows them over so they need us to stand them up again!"

Barry didn’t sleep well, if at all, that night, in fact sleep had been a rare commodity since he’d left England managing a couple of hours at best. HSP Alpha proved to be just as draughty as the workers club and of course Oz’s snoring didn’t help. The sandman eventually came along though and took him to the land of nod when…….

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggg!

In the dark there was the urgent sound and silhouettes of bodies in motion. Barry was upright in bed wondering what was going on, the forty five minutes of sleep he’d had giving him no relief from fatigue.

"C’mon Barry, fire drill" said Oz.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Half past four. C’mon get your skates on"

In ten minutes the occupants of the building were lined up in front of WA Cork who proceeded to do a roll call. One by one their names were called and off they went to resume their sleep, except for Barry who lay awake again with more home thoughts in his head.

"ZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz" came the sound from Oz, seemingly chorused by everyone else.

Unable to sleep he got dressed and decided he’d find a telephone to give Hazel a call. Outside the wind had died down to a gale and looking around the area spotted a light in a portable office. He noticed the telephone cables emerging from one corner of it and decided that he’d make the call from there, if he could gain entry of course. Approaching the office he looked into the window and saw WA Cork on the phone, holding a conversation with someone and sounding quite proud with himself. "…..I did it again, four thirty this time. You should have seen them" He laughed out loud and continued "With all of these fire drills I’ll be able to stretch this job out another six months" He was quiet as the person on the other end said something then "So you’ll be able to come over tomorrow night then" A pause then "Ok you bring the food and I’ll bring the wine and lurve" Another pause, another laugh then he hung up. Picking up a clipboard, a gaffers number one accessory, he stood. Barry hid around the corner as Cork emerged taking in a deep breath and left to enter another building. Being naïve, Barry wasn’t sure he fully understood the conversation, but would certainly keep it to himself. However even Barry has his limits……..

Several hours later after breakfast in the building he’d seen Cork enter Barry was in the control tower assessing the amount of work that needed to be done. With the team they had six weeks was the time he put on it, but as the team leader pointed out that was dependant on supplies.

"Who orders everything?" asked Barry

"Corky. I give him the order and he put’s it through. Most of the time it’s late or incomplete"

"Figures" said Barry remembering the conversation he’d heard that morning.

Everything was going along great, with Barry even managing a smile at some of the jokes flying around when Brrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-nnnnnnnngggggggg!

Immediately everyone downed tools and exited the building, hopping into trucks to amass again outside Alpha building. A smug looking Cork again read out the register and satisfied everyone was present dismissed them.

"Erm, excuse me, how many of these fire drills are there?" asked Barry politely. Cork looked up from his clipboard with a stern look. "Fire can strike at any time and when it does I need to be prepared. I’ve seen what fire can do, I was here during the war and believe me it’s not pretty"

"Yes I understand but……"

"And further more if you don’t like it tough. I’m in charge of this project and I’ll run it as I see fit" Barry was again about to ask a question but Oz intervened "Take nee notice Barry man, he’s pissed with power" He and Andy left saying they’d see him at the next drill later.

And so they did. An hour after dinner the alarm rang again which totally pissed off everyone concerned. "Why don’t we just ignore him" Barry said to the team leader.

"Well I don’t know about you but I’m here for the money, good money too. If we piss him off he can have us fired" Barry nodded and left for the roll call.

The next morning’s call came at the more ‘reasonable’ hour of six am. The money was starting to seem less and less important to Barry but Oz told him he’d get used to it. Also it was Friday and there was no roll call on the weekend. Still, seeing him stood there with a smug grin as he read out the names irked Barry. He wasn’t one for a confrontation but this individual was pushing even his limits. In fact his limit was achieved when half way through his pie and chips at dinner the alarm rang.

Sitting down to finish the now cold fare after roll call he said to Oz "That’s it Oz, I’ve had enough of this, this pedagogue"

"Eh?"

"These unnecessary roll calls and conceited bearing. That’s it, I’ve had enough"

"You’re not leaving are you Barry" enquired Andy.

"Leaving! No way. It’s time for retribution"

"Hey I wish you’d speak English, lad" said Oz.

"Listen, -" Barry recounted the conversation he’d heard and the plan he’d devised. Oz was laughing, "Let’s do it"

That evening Cork surreptitiously brought a female friend into the airport, breaking one of the rules that he himself had made about bring in female company. The office was split in two, half office and half sleeping quarters. The light of the sleeping quarters went on, blinds were closed and Oz, Andy and Barry went to work.

The music playing in the office was enough to cover any noise they made preparing the joke. Inside a store room off the dining area was where they had obtained most of their gear a lot of it being ex-army issue. It didn’t take long and looking into the window of the sleeping quarters Oz was able to see, through a small break in the blinds, that Cork and his female companion had finished eating and were starting to get very cosy, both half undressed. "We’ll give them ten more minutes then set them off" whispered Oz. The three huddled behind a generator switch and when Oz gave the nod, Barry hit the switch. The half dozen alarms outside the office which they’d crudely wired up all went off at once. The blinds moved to one side with Cork peering outside. Barry turned off the switch. The blinds went back in place and they gave him a couple of minutes before doing it again. The blinds parted again and this time the door opened with Cork, wrapped in a blanket, looking into the gloom to see what was happening. The alarms again ceased their din and he went back inside. Oz disappeared again saying give him five minutes. Barry waited and hit two switches this time. The alarms sounded and the whole area was bathed in light from floodlights they’d found. This time they left them on and went to join Oz. Cork opened the door again and shielding his eyes started to shout but couldn’t be heard over the noise of the alarms. Then the voice of Oz came over the public address although he’d disguised it well, booming in his poshest accent "We know what you’re up to Corky you dirty bastard. Stop the roll calls and we promise not to show the video to your superiors"

Barry and Andy caught up with Oz and they left to have a few drinks at the workers bar. Sat there at the same windswept table as the other evening, things didn’t seem so bad now for Barry. He even managed to get pontoon three hands in a row winning back the two pounds he’d lost a couple of nights earlier.

Roll calls became a thing of the past at Mount Pleasant. Warrant Officer Cork had his suspicions about who’d played the prank on him but was unable to gain any evidence, not immediately anyway.

Barry left after four months with a much healthier bank balance, shortly after Oz was forcibly ejected by the authorities and Andy is still there as a tourist guide as he’s the only person who knows a safe passage through the minefields.

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