I woke up and scratched my head, yawned and reached for my fags. Still smoking I stumbled to the bog, head pounding with every step. I reached the bathroom and realised I had breath like a shit smuggler's duffle coat. Time was of the essence so a quick brush of the teeth and a shower in a can, I threw on some shitty old clobber, no need for designer wear today. I grabbed a slice of bread on my way out the door.
I was already running late, I walked briskly through the streets, there was an air of anticipation around and nervous tension and excitement filled the town. I bumped into the boys at the pre arranged meeting place, a fearsome looking mob, tattooed, shaven headed, scarred faces a prerequisite. The ring leader, a tall, accented and extremely well muscled man was stood at the centre of a little group. He saw me arrive and gave me a tight smile and a nod. This was high regard but he knew I loved this shit and wouldn't let him down.
The front group moved off, the rest of the masses moving slowly behind. We numbered about 80 at this stage. The usually bustling streets deserted in anticipation, the population either with us or keeping a low profile. As we scurried through the town our numbers swelled. We passed waste land, rubble piled up in corners, shrapnel stacked in big dust bins. The group was getting vocal and the adrenaline was coursing through my veins, it wouldn't be long now. I just wanted to get involved, once the red mist descended, that's when I was in my element. No one ever paid me any heed from day to day but on these days I was up there with the best of em'. Just 18 and loving it.
We rounded the last corner and genuine hatred could be felt throughout the mob. All 100 or so of us were like blood thirsty animals. I say all but there were a few who loitered at the back to ensure a rapid get away in case it all went upside down. My alter ego was rising, I was at the front with the ringleaders, the men who had been around the block and were happy to have me stood shoulder to shoulder with them.
The debris started flying in from the crowd, the troops were generally, unflinching but a few of the younger one's were shitting themselves. The fear in their faces made me sick, faggots, they had shields, body armour, helmets, batons and safety in numbers. I had a shit pair of jeans, trainers and t-shirt but on top of all that I had a heart for this shit and genuinely loved the violence. The troops moved forward in a green mass, we stayed firm at the front until the line was just in front of us, no more than a couple of metres away. I was on the verge of losing it, the fuckers were mouthing obsenities at us and giving it the big one from behind their shields. I couldn't take any more, I saw they guy in front of me look to his left and seized the moment. I charged up to the shield and kicked it, it split from the shield next to it creating a gap just big enough for me to throw a punch through. I connected but only on the helmet, hurting me more than the soldier who was frozen in shock. The adrenaline took care of any pain though. All around me our guys were attacking the soldiers. every so often the shields would part and blokes would charge out and try to grab us, they had smaller shields and swung their batons relentlessly. I was clipped by a baton but managed to turn and land a shot on the face of the silly soldier who had forgotten to pull his visor down, as he staggered back I kicked him in the shins. I love it!!!
The squaddies were pushing us back at this point and we were getting split up, I looked around and saw my mates were still with me, a nod from them told me that we were all good and ready for the main attack. When we got to the wasteland the debris flew thick and fast, petrol bombs were going in softening up the shields, a couple of soldiers' trousers were alight, I chuckled to myself at the sight of these fellas dancing a jig with flames licking up their legs until their mates could put them out. Just then a little squad came out of the line and charged straight at me, it was going off big time. I took 3 or 4 hits with batons and flipped, I grabbed the nearest soldier to me and threw him on the ground, he had a radio so I seized my oppourtunity and grabbed it off his jacket. These radios were security coded and like gold dust. He pleaded with me to give it back so I did, right around the mouth. After I smashed him with it I was able to use the groups shock to sprint away. I got back to the front line and started again on the big shields. A gap opened up and me and one of my good pals got in amoungst it. I was swinging punches in every direction, I looked to my right and my old mate punched straight through this soldier's visor, good shot. I had taken my eye off the ball. In the split second I forgot about my predicament the soldiers got the upper hand. I felt a searing pain in my ribs then a blow came to the side of my head. If I went down I was fucked so I used all my strength to stay on my feet. The blows were coming thick and fast and I was engulfed by a swarm of angry, combat clad men. I was in big trouble when I heard a whistle blast, then a strong pair of hands grabbed me and pulled me out of the chaos.
It was a member of the directing staff for the exercise, he had been following me since the radio incident. Thank god, these blokes would have battered me. All in a days work as a pretend rioter for the troops going to Northern Ireland to do all this for real, getting paid to bash squaddies was a blast. Best job in the world, painful at times though.
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