JET LAG! by Ryan Clifford Page A

and then turned back to face his father.
     
                  ‘I take it you’ll be here tonight, sir. If so, will you join us for supper? Fay will be delighted to see you.’
     
                  ‘I’m not sure Todd; as you say there’s a lot to do, so I can’t be sure I’m free – but I’ll try my best.’
     
                  ‘Fair enough – but if you can make it, let’s say 2030 hours.’
     
                  Todd replaced his cap, saluted and left the office almost at a run. He would need to think this one over for a while. It needed to be done properly. As he was about to close the door of OC 619’s office he heard the Wing Commander call him back.
     
                  ‘Here, catch!’ smiled Andy Miller, ‘that promotion starts today.’
     
                  Todd nearly fumbled the catch but just managed to hold on to the two small blue objects flung across the room. He smirked as he realised what they were – a pair of Wing Commanders’ rank braids.
     
    ***
     
    The next twenty-four hours were horrendous, yet exhilarating.
     
    First of all, Todd went straight to the crewroom. All available squadron aircrew had now assembled as a result of the earlier call-out. The delicious and mouth-watering aroma of bacon sandwiches wafted down the corridor as Todd strode through the doorway. The Exec burst straight into the briefing.
     
                  ‘Right, everybody stop what you’re doing and pay attention – the shit has hit the fucking fan – big time!’
     
    He paused for dramatic effect and could see all the ‘thinks bubbles’ rising from his colleagues as they imagined everything from a no-notice Tactical Evaluation to World War III.
     
                  Todd continued. ‘I can now reveal the purpose of the call out. You can all relax – Armageddon is not here – but it's almost as bad. The flypast has been brought forward to this Saturday.’
     
                  A collective gasp followed by a hubbub of expletives rent the air.
     
                  ‘And that’s not all. All personnel involved with the flypast will be proceeding direct to Brindisi to support what is now called Operation Endeavour – i.e. the renewed support of Kuwait.’
     
                  Further expletives – some truly heartfelt - followed this unexpected revelation.
     
                  ‘Settle down, settle down! Now, I can tell that you’re all really glad you joined – so I can only advise you to sit back and let it happen. Nothing you can say will change anything. The more astute amongst you will have noticed my change of rank – I will be detachment commander at Brindisi.’
     
                  Stunned silence was followed by a polite but enthusiastic shouts of, ‘well done boss,’ and ‘congratulations – it's your round!’
     
                  ‘Thank you all very much – the beers will be on me when we eventually reach a bar! However, the first thing we must do is to set a timetable running down to the flypast on Saturday. All those involved with the flypast move to the right hand side of the room, so that I can see who’s available for other tasks. Correct me if I’m wrong but none of the flypast crews are on leave – is that right?’
     
                  An almost pathetic voice spoke up from the back of the crowd.
     
                  ‘That’s right sir’, said Mike Wiggins, a Flying Officer on his first tour. ‘But I’m getting married on Sunday and going on two weeks leave. You’ll recall you authorised my absence when the crews were selected.’
                  ‘Sounds like a lucky escape to me,’ shot back one of Wiggins pals from the back of the room.
     
                  The crewroom filled with mock sympathy and guffaws. The only two men not smiling were Wiggins and the