The Conscripts

Laner

I was still in shock, and lay on the ground looking skyward, winded and groaning, when from somewhere out of the blue sky, a loud voice with a shrill Welsh accent, bellowed out.

Dapper

'Come on me boyo's let's be having you.'

It was my nemesis Dapper, instructing us to form in a line.

I could barely breathe, but still managed to struggle to my feet, to stand with the others. With varying levels of response, we'd formed into an untidy line, with kit bags lying at our feet. To passers-by, it must have looked like we were lined up for inspection, just like first day recruits, freshly conscripted into the armed forces.

Still mimicking the behaviour of a drill sergeant, he strolled back and forth looking menacingly up and down the line of High Fives. Finally, he spun to an abrupt halt, and for someone so small, he oozed intimidation. He deliberately stood face to face with the line out, with his feet set wide apart and muscular arms wrapped behind his back, enhancing is air of authority. There was something sinister about his posture, he held the clenched fist of his left hand firmly in the grip of his right hand, preparing to let loose his wrath, on us unsuspecting conscripts.

Conscript 1

Releasing the grip, he unfolded his arms and outstretched his left, and unfurled the fist, revealing his fingers. They were unbelievably long and strong, for such a diminutive character.

Deliberately rewinding his fingers into a tight ball, he dropped his eyes to talk at them. Yes, talk to his fingers, mind you they were probably the only things interested in what he was about to say. He then wriggled his huge thumb free, sticking it out at an odd angle so his thumb looked rather awkward. Pointing it at Tank, he said cynically and abruptly and in his usual booming manner.

'Now who have we here then?'

'What a stupid question, there's no question about it, this must be you Hardbridge, the biggest of the bunch!'

He was talking at Tank, who was stood behind his elder brother's huge ex-army kit bag, that lay untidily at his feet. Tank was a big guy by any standards, he was well over 6-foot-tall and getting on for 200lbs in weight, with bold rounded shoulders. He was as my mother would describe all big men, built like a brick outhouse. Sadly, for Tank the Training Instructors were going have a field day with him, and there was no doubt that they would make his life a misery, especially on the obstacle course.

To be fair to Tank, he was nonplussed by Dapper's dirge, he was far more interested in the antics of Owl, who was still 'Lording' it up, following my humbling. He could not help but smile at the nonchalant way Owl stood there rolling an unlit cigarette from finger to finger, like a light-fingered magician.

Conscript 2

He was now ready to move onto his next victim, it just had to be Owl.

Dapper used his index finger and thumb to imitate the pincers of a crab, nipping them in Owl's direction, he suggested.

'These represent you Bellman.'

'Always having a point to make.'

'Always snipping away, usually at someone else's expense.'

It was a pretty crap analogy, even by Dapper's standards.

The well-dressed Owl stood almost as tall as Tank, but nowhere near as broad, and appeared to be taking it all in his stride.

You know the type!

Been there, done that, 'Got the Tee Shirt'.

Right now, he was feeling pretty-damn good about himself, having so effectively dumped me and my ego firmly on my ass. Owl even had the cheek to pop the cigarette into his mouth, and it was still dangling from his lips, as Dapper dished the dirt. He most definitely looked like a guy who knew all the answers, but just when Owl thought it was over, Dapper rounded on him, shouting.

'Bellman, get that filthy thing out of your mouth, before I confiscate the pack!'

Taken a bit by surprise, he allowed the cigarette to slip from his lips and fall toward the ground. Dapper moved with lightning speed and as it landed, he stood toe to toe with Owl. His heavily booted right foot rose and fell in an instant, descending onto the defenceless cigarette. Twisting and turning his boot, he crushed it mercilessly into the dust, right where it had landed.

Turning away, he said.

'That's where it came from, and in my opinion should have remained!'

Finishing off with a cynical laugh, he added.

'Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust' you might say.'

Conscript 3

Saying nothing more, he marched off, and returned to his original spot, where once again he spun to face us, hesitating momentarily, presumably to gather his thoughts.

Silently, he raised his hand aloft, and simultaneously flicked out his middle finger, it looked as if he was going to give us a universal up yours, but instead pointed it directly toward the sky.

His middle finger now stood outstretched above its peers, you can only begin to imagine what we were thinking at that moment.

But, there was no stopping the would-be Drill Sergeant, singing out in his chirpy melodic Welsh accent, he said.

'Yes, like you D'Beredaggio, it stands proud, head and shoulders above this motley crew'.

Gio stood bolt upright, like a telegraph pole.

At just short of 6-foot-tall he was the perfect example, of a healthy, good-looking young man.

Yes, I thought we've heard it all before, the perfect pupil.

Yes, he was the one most mothers would love their daughters to bring home, immaculately turned out, every inch of him officer class material.

God it made me want to puke!

Even though he had it all going for him, you had to feel a bit for Gio, this adulation was genuinely an embarrassment to him. Outwardly he gave the appearance of remaining emotionless, but inside he was cringing and hoping the ground would open and swallow him up.

Gio believed that Dapper was deliberately embarrassing him, in a veiled attempt to separate him from the other lads.

There was some strength in his point of view, for Dapper the son of a Welsh coal miner secretly resented Gio's middle class Italian background.

Conscript 4

The embarrassment of Gio had only partially satisfied Dapper's thirst to humiliate the conscripts, and with a rather depreciating look on his face, he began waggling his ring finger from side to side. He was about to have Gio's best mate Mac for afters, heartlessly feigning the actions of a newlywed woman, he was intent on heaping embarrassment on the introvert Mac.

Perfectly imitating a woman's voice, he said softly.

'Oh of course McIver, this has to be you, married to every move made by the 'Prince among Paupers.'

He was of course referring to Mac's almost symbiotic relationship to Gio, and just to prove the point Mac was cowering half out of sight just behind his self-confident mate, which didn't go unnoticed by Dapper, who takes the opportunity to separate them by yelling.

'What are doing skulking back there like some little girl's blouse McIver, get back in line?'

Mac was another tall lad, at around 6ft, but slim in the extreme with a pleasant, but unassuming personality. He survived constant ridicule due to his large dependency on Geo, to whom he turned for his direction and choices.

It sounds a bit demeaning, but that's how it was at the time. Sadly, as a result he would be the guy who bore the brunt of many heartless jibs and bullying. Unfortunately, it didn't end there, for even his run was comical having the same gate and lack of grace as a new born giraffe.

Conscript 5

Now it was my turn to face the ridicule.

Dapper allowed his little finger to hang limply from his hand and said teasingly.

'Now, what do we have here then me boyo?'

Although not much taller than me, his victim, he made a point of dropping his eyes to exacerbate his slightly greater height.

He started in a heavy tone dripping with sarcasm, but this turned to a screech and the pitch of his voice was high enough to shatter glass.

'Here we are at the end of the row, or is the bottom of the pile, even I'm not sure of that?

I'll bet Bellman does after putting you firmly on the floor where you belong!

Anyway, do you know what this is, Laneeeeeee?'

Hanging painfully long on the e's.

'Yes, of course you do, it's obvious, even a dimwit like you must know it's the tail of a Jackass.

But the real question is, do the rest of you know who this limp excuse is?'

He jests.

'Well just in case you were in any doubt, it's the 'Ragged Ass Ranger', otherwise known as Mr Lane'.

Just before mouthing his piest de'resistance, a cynical smile grew on his face, and peering directly into my eyes he uttered the following words.

'Mr Lane, now there's a joke if I've ever heard one!'

Like the cat who'd got the milk he turned away laughing to himself uncontrollably.

Sadly, to this day it still cut's me to the quick, but I must accept that he had me at an advantage. I was still sheepishly beating the dust from my clothes, following Owl's revenge. Under normal circumstances I would have given as good as I got, and retained a cocky edge, even though I'm rather small and a bit rough round the edges.

However, Dapper could not believe his luck, finding me so subdued. It made his day, he relished the prospect of getting to me while my guard was down.

I was typical of someone my size, and had some experience of fighting my corner, both physically and mentally. With my pride intact, I would have given a good account of myself, regardless of the consequences, but not this time. But, there's a price to be paid for everything, even when it's fun, but it's my way, to be frequently involved in one outrageous prank or another. It was inevitable that at some time I would fail, because it became an absolute nightmare when things got out of hand, as they occasionally did.

However, my real problem was that me n Dapper already had some bad history, which is another story!

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