The Sprog 2 Graduation

By Denis Leeman

Abandoned by the only two women he ever loved, Tony Ryan decides to concentrate on his career in the RAF. With the help of a friendly senior NCO he is accepted at RAF Cranwell for officer training, and succeeds at becoming a fighter pilot. Before too long, however, the upsets and obstacles of his earlier life seem almost trivial, compared to the earth-shattering secrets he uncovers and the sheer evil he encounters while penetrating a ruthless terrorist cell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Denis Leeman
• Release date: Jun 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781910100776

Book preview

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‘Are you all right, Flight Sergeant Stanhope?’ Corporal Grant called out from the far end of the otherwise empty gym.

The young NCO, who sat alone silently staring into space, appeared not to hear him for a moment. Then as he came walking up to her looking concerned, she got to her feet with a thin smile.

‘Yes, thank you, Corporal,’ she replied, ‘just a little domestic problem bothering me.’ She walked away across the floor to her office and went in, closing the door behind her and bursting into tears.

***

It was Wednesday, and no letter from Tony, not even a phone call; if everything was still the same he definitely would have contacted her before now, she reasoned. He’d met up with that Peggy, she could feel it in her bones, and he’d decided he loved her too much to leave her; after all, he said that he still loved her. Then, wiping her eyes she went into the little back room and put the kettle on. ‘Don’t be silly, Becky,’ she scolded herself, ‘he’s most likely just having a good time with his injured mate Dave, the Royal Marine.’

He’d told her when he held her in his arms the evening before he went on leave that she was his love, hadn’t he? He’d sworn that he couldn’t live without her. Pouring the boiling water into the little brown tea pot she said aloud, ‘Come on, Becky Stanhope, pull yourself together; stop acting like a lovesick little floozy. He’ll be back, you’re fantasising, girl; you love the lad, so trust him.’

She was the one that told him to forget everything and have a good time with his mate, she reminded herself, and he was doing just that.

***

Friday morning had been strenuous, both physically and mentally; a bus load of military police trainees had been brought in from an enjoining camp for a final PT session before their pass-out the following Monday. Becky and Corporal Grant had taken the class; and although the young chaps were very willing in their efforts, most of them proved to be hard work for the two instructors.

‘Thank God they won’t be back again,’ Corporal Grant grumbled as they were filing out of the gym talking boisterously amongst themselves.

Laughing, Becky said, ‘Oh, I’ve seen worse, Corporal Grant. They’re only young lads.’

Grant chuckled. ‘With all due respect, Flight, you’re only a young girl; you can’t be much older than them yourself.’

‘You cheeky devil, Corporal, they’re only nineteen-year-old, raw recruits. I’m twenty-two, I’ll have you know,’ she said with mock indignation.

Suddenly, hearing the sound of the phone ringing from her office, Becky turned, breaking into a sprint to answer it. Charging through the door, she lunged across her desk hoping it wouldn’t stop ringing before she’d managed to grab it. Could it be Tony? Snatching it up, heart racing, she said as calmly as possible, ‘Hello, Flight Sergeant Stanhope speaking.’

‘Good morning, Flight Sergeant,’ said a female voice. ‘I have a gentleman here who would like to talk to you.’ There was a slight pause at the other end, but then her excitement ceased on hearing the man’s voice.

‘Hello there, sweetheart, it’s Conrad,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’m over at HQ in London for the weekend. How would you like me to take you out for a meal while I’m over? Your camp is only an hour’s drive from here; I can pick you up at about seven p.m. if that’s OK?’

Disappointed, she said hesitantly, ‘Oh, hello, Conrad, nice to hear from you. No, sorry but I don’t think it will be possible tonight, as I’ve got a meeting in the mess at seven, and it’ll take at least two hours.’

‘But of course, dear girl,’ Conrad said smoothly, ‘I wouldn’t expect you to break arrangements like that just to dine out with me at such short notice. No, I meant tomorrow, Saturday.’ Before she could answer he continued cheerfully, ‘And don’t worry, Becky my dear, I remember all you told me when you moved back from Cyprus. This is purely platonic.’

‘Well, I don’t know really, Conrad,’ she said cautiously. ‘My boyfriend Tony is away on leave and I’m expecting him back any time; he might even be back tomorrow.’

‘No problem,’ he replied. ‘If he does return, well, he can join us, or you can call it off and I’ll have to dine on my own.’ He laughed.

That sounded fair, and because he was an old friend, she reluctantly accepted on those terms. Replacing the phone, she remained rigid for a moment, staring down at the desk top, frowning. ‘I wish I hadn’t agreed to that,’ she said out loud.

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Tony sat on the crowded train reading a grubby copy of the Daily Mirror he’d found left on the seat; he was feeling on top of the world. He wasn’t due back off leave until Monday but had decided to return early for two reasons, one: he was pining for his lovely Becky and two: he’d got a big surprise for her, and hoped she would be as pleased about it as he was. He was slightly worried at not being able to get through to Becky on the phone; he’d tried several times, but it just kept ringing. Anyway, no problem now, he thought; he’d make it up to her tonight with a meal out and the surprise present he’d bought for her.

***

‘Hi there, Jeff, me old son,’ Tony called out walking into the billet with a jaunty step. ‘Hope you’ve been keeping everything in order over there in the mess.’

‘Well, this is a surprise, Mr Ryan,’ Jeff replied, grinning as he got up off his bed, throwing down the crumpled girly magazine he’d been concentrating on. ‘Fancy you coming back from leave early. You must be lovesick, you old bugger. Missing that beautiful Becky of yours, eh?’

‘What do you think?’ Tony reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. ‘What do you think to this, mate?’ he said proudly opening the lid and holding it out in front of him.

Staring down into box Jeff replied with exaggerated surprise, ‘Eh up, Tony, are you proposing to me at last?’

Tony pretended to punch him. ‘Stop trying to be funny, you prick, Baxter, it don’t become you, boy.’

Jeff turned serious for a moment. ‘No, it’s lovely, mate, and she’s a lovely lady. Is it an engagement ring then, Tony?’

‘Yes, I bought it in that big jewellery shop on the Headrow in Leeds; cost me an arm and a leg as well,’ he told him with a whistle and a head shake. She’s worth it though, I love her,’ he said staring down at the gold diamond-studded ring in the little black box. By the way, Peggy was home too,’ he added quietly.

‘That must have been a shock, after all this time,’ Jeff said. ‘Anyway, mate, now you’ve made your mind up which one you think most about, you’ll be feeling better, eh?’

Tony considered his friend’s words. ‘No, I’ll never do that, Jeff, I still love them both the same. Anyway,’ he said, ‘Peggy’s pissed off back to America again to sort out her affairs, so she can’t want me so much. I’ll go back to my lovely Flight Sergeant who I know does want me.’

‘Are you going over to her place now?’ Jeff asked.

‘I’m going after tea,’ he replied, putting the little box back in his pocket. ‘I’m going to take her out for a meal, propose and give her the ring then. I’ve been trying to contact her all week but couldn’t get hold of her,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Mind you, she did say she’d be having a busy week,’ he mumbled as he rummaged though his locker.

‘She won’t know you’re back then.’

‘No. So let’s hope it’s a pleasant surprise for her,’ Tony said with a chuckle. ‘I’m going over in Mavis’s car. I called over to the kitchen on my way here and she said I can have it until lunchtime Sunday.’

‘You’re a cheeky sod,’ Jeff said. ‘She’s got a soft spot for you has big Mavis, and you play on it, Ryan, you bugger.’

***

The little Austin Ten was running like velvet, and Tony was singing his head off as he turned it into the married quarters – a small housing estate behind the camp – where Becky rented her little semi.

Reducing speed, he drove along the main road with houses on either side, his mind drifting. He slowly put his hand into his jacket pocket and felt the little present he’d got for his beloved Becky. When he came to the little cul-de-sac where Becky’s house was situated, he was just about to turn in when he spotted something that made him abruptly hit the brake.

Outside Becky’s garden gate stood a gleaming white Jaguar XK 120, with the top down. Sitting in the little Austin Ten Tony wondered if it would be in order for him to go barging in. She could have someone important calling concerning her work. It might be best if he waited a while, he reasoned, until whoever it was departed. After all, she’d no idea he was coming.

***

He hadn’t long to wait. Within five minutes the front door opened and a tall slim man in a smart suit came out followed by Becky, dressed to kill.

Tony’s first thought, after he’d got over his initial shock, was to start the car and charge down and intervene. However, realising immediately that this would not be right as he had no idea who the man was, he decided to sit tight and see what happened. He watched them getting into the car, all smiles and light-hearted banter, and wondered who the hell the bloke was. Suddenly he felt jealous. Had she got someone else while he was away? he wondered.

He hadn’t to wonder long; the car purred smoothly and effortlessly out of the cul-de-sac and onto the road, the driver beaming and looking relaxed. Becky sat at his side, radiant, with her long hair blowing out behind her in the breeze.

‘It’s that bastard Conrad,’ Tony hissed, recognising him from photographs he’d been shown by Becky. The man she was now with in the flashy, open-topped car was Conrad, a wing commander and her ex-boyfriend. Then he wondered if the ‘ex’ still applied.

***

‘Christ, you’re soon back, Tony. What’s up, has the bloody car broke down or something?’ Jeff asked.

‘I wish to fuck that’s all it was,’ Tony snapped as he took off his coat and threw it down on his bed.

‘What’s up it then, mate? Wasn’t Becky at home?’ Jeff asked sympathetically.

Somebody called out, ‘Don’t say you’ve been stood up, Tony,’ which was followed by a general titter from the other lads in the billet.

Tony froze for a second clenching his teeth and Jeff glanced warily at him, wondering what was going to happen next.

Slowly Tony turned, glaring over at the joker. ‘Mitchell, are you hungry?’ he hissed, staring into the lad’s now paling face.

The room went silent, as Mitchell replied with a nervous, tight-lipped little smile, ‘No, Tony, why do you ask?’

Walking over to him, Tony, stared into his eyes with a cold, humourless smile and said softly, ‘Because, if you don’t keep your piss-taking to yourself you’re going to get a bloody big knuckle sandwich, mate.’ Then, giving the lad a push on the shoulder that sent him falling back on his bed, he returned to his own and sat down frowning.

The billet soon started buzzing with conversation again after the little disturbance and Jeff said, ‘Poor old Mitchell. You were a bit heavy on him there, Tony. It’s not like you to be so sensitive; he was only joking.’

‘I know, Jeff,’ he sighed, staring down at the floor, ‘but I m pissed off. I could kill the bastard! I don’t care what his fucking rank is.’

Perplexed, Jeff said, ‘Well, he didn’t say anything that bad, Tony, poor bugger. What do you mean about his rank, what’s that got to do with it anyway? He’s a bloody AC plonk like us as far as I know.’

Looking back at him for a long moment, expressionless, Tony’s face slowly broke into a smile. ‘I’m not talking about Mitchell, you silly pillock,’ he chuckled. ‘I’m on about that swine Conrad, the bloody wing commander.’ Then, after telling Jeff all about what happened, he said, ‘Believe me, mate, if he hadn’t been speeding past me in that flashy Jag I’d have wiped the stupid grin off his face irrespective; even if he’d been a bloody air commodore.’

‘Don’t do anything like that, mate,’ Jeff said. ‘They’ll lock you up and throw away the fucken key if you thump a Wingco. Anyway, it might have only been a passing visit; he’ll most likely be gone by tomorrow,’ he told him reassuringly.

‘Aye, that’s what’s bothering me, Jeff. Where’s the bastard going to stay tonight? I’ll bet he’s going to push himself on Becky to stay there. Still, it’s up to her,’ he said lightly, trying to sound unconcerned, ‘if she wants a twat like him, bugger em both.’ He got up off the bed and put his coat back on.

‘Well, you can go over after dinner tomorrow, Tony,’ Jeff said. ‘If he has stayed the night he’ll most likely have gone by then.’

‘What!’ Tony yelled. ‘If he’s stayed the night there, mate, I don’t want anything more to do with the situation. I’ve never chased after a woman in my life,’ he spat, ‘and I’m not going to start now!’ Then turning to the door he said abruptly, ‘Anyway, I’m going over to the NAAFI to get pissed, are you coming?’

***

‘Come on, Tony, cheer up, mate,’ Jeff said as they walked into the mess the following Monday morning. ‘It’s not like you to let things get you down like this.’

Scowling, he replied, ‘What do you mean? There’s nothing got me down, Jeff. I couldn’t care a bugger; if she wants that fellow good luck to em both. I can soon pick another bird up, you know me, mate,’ he said cockily.

Going in, the first person they saw was Eddy Jones who was cleaning the hall window. ‘Hey there, Tony, glad to see you back,’ he called out coming down off the stepladder to have a word.

Realising his intent, Tony continued walking past him with no acknowledgement other than a grunt of ‘Don’t stop your work for me, Jones.’

Staring after the two as they walked away up the passage, Eddy called out sarcastically, ‘Huh, we are in a good mood this morning, aren’t we, Mr Ryan?’

‘That was a bit cruel, Tony,’ said a female voice from behind. ‘Poor Jones, he was only trying to be friendly.’

Turning, he saw Ruby his favourite waitress standing in the doorway with an empty tray in her hand, smiling sweetly. His face softened as he went over to talk to her and his usual cheeky smile appeared. ‘Hello, darling,’ he said eyeing her up and down. ‘Now you’re just what I could do with this morning to cheer myself up. How about coming up to my bedding store for half an hour? I’m sure Sergeant McNab could spare you,’ he said with a sly wink.

‘Oh, you are a one, Tony Ryan,’ Ruby said, rolling her eyes and blushing.

Before she could say anything more a loud voice roared out behind her, ‘Good to see Ryan’s back. You’re skiving again, Pritchard; come on, get on with your work, woman!’

‘Er, Sergeant Mc Nab, can I have a word please?’ Tony called out making his way towards her.

‘As long as it doesn’t take long,’ she called back in her usual raucous voice. ‘I’ve no time to waste this morning, Ryan.’

‘I wonder what he’s up to now, Ruby,’ said Jeff grinning as he went.

‘What is it, Ryan?’ the sergeant asked pleasantly as Tony went up to her. ‘I suppose its some sort of a favour, eh?’

‘No, it isn’t, Sergeant; well, not really,’ he said. ‘Could you tell me what time Mr Cox comes in for his lunch today?’ he asked cagily.

Looking back at him quizzically, she replied, ‘What do you want with the station warrant officer, Tony Ryan? I hope you’re not in any bother?’

Laughing, he replied, ‘Bother? No, you know me; I’m a good boy, Sergeant. It’s just a bit of advice I want off him, that’s all.’

‘By gum, you’re a bugger, you are,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘I don’t know why I tolerate you. Mr Cox comes in for second sitting on Monday, between one o’clock and two.’

Making his way up the corridor on his way to the bedding store Tony was further greeted as he passed Sergeant Pike’s office.

‘Good morning, Ryan, you’re back then,’ the sergeant called out cheerfully. ‘Had a good leave, have you?’

Pausing in his stride Tony went up to the open door. ‘Not bad, Sergeant,’ he said with a grin. ‘At least the beer was better in Yorkshire.’

‘Right. Well, glad to see you back, Ryan, I’ve had my hands full while you’ve been away, I’ll tell you,’ Pike moaned. ‘I had four late residents last week; one came at three in the morning.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Tony sympathetically, ‘you won’t have got much kip that night then, Sergeant.’

‘No, and I’ll get less when you go for good, Ryan. You’re being demobbed in a few weeks, aren’t you?’ he asked with a frown.

‘Yes, I’m due for demob in about six or eight weeks, Sergeant,’ he said cheerfully as he made to go.

***

One forty-five; Tony walked into the nearly empty dining room where SWO Cox, was sitting at a table on his own, having just finished off his midday meal. He was sitting back enjoying a cigarette with his cup of tea. Seeing Tony approaching he called out, ‘Hello there, Ryan. Mavis told me you wanted a word about something.’

Reaching his table Tony said, ‘Mavis, sir?’

With a little laugh Mr Cox replied, ‘Oh, sorry, Ryan, I mean Sergeant McNab. I’ve known her for years, you know, but she said you’d asked her what time I would be in here.’

‘Well yes, I did, sir,’ Tony acknowledged. ‘It’s your advice I want to request, sir, if I’m not being too presumptuous. You said to ask if I ever needed guidance, if you remember, sir,’ he added cautiously.

‘Yes, I did, Ryan.’ Cox took a long drag at his cigarette and nodded at one of the other chairs across the table. ‘Come and sit down then, lad, and let’s be knowing what’s troubling you.’

Standing there looking down at the chair for a moment Tony said hesitantly, ‘Well, I think it might be better if I remained standing, sir, if you don’t mind. Sergeant Pike might come through and he’d go mad if he saw me sat at one of the tables.’

‘Not if I invited you, lad, he wouldn’t,’ replied Mr Cox sternly. ‘Now sit yourself there and let me know what you’re wanting.’

‘Well, it’s what we were talking about a while back, sir,’ said Tony sitting down cautiously. ‘If you remember I was telling you about not having long to go before my demob.’

‘Yes, I remember that, Ryan,’ Cox said. ‘Well, what about it?’

‘I’ve only got a few weeks to go now sir, but I’ve decided to take your advice and stay on in the service.’

‘Good for you, lad, I’m sure you’ll do well. You’ve certainly got leadership qualities and that’s what we want in the modern RAF.’

‘Thank you, sir, but the point is, if I do sign on, I’d want to do something of significance, something better than admin orderly in the sergeants’ mess.’

‘And what would you have in mind then, Ryan?’ he asked, chuckling.

‘Well, I’ve given it a lot of consideration,’ Tony went on thoughtfully, ‘and I’ve finally decided that I’d like to try for air crew; but do you think I’d have a chance, sir?’

After a moment of thought, Cox replied, ‘Well, Ryan, you’re aiming high, but I suppose you’d have a chance; it’s a commissioned post these days, you know,’ he pointed out. Tony sat there listening intently. ‘You’d have to qualify at Cranwell then decide about a flying position. And what about your education – do you have any qualifications?’

‘Well, I’m good at maths and English, sir, and my first job after leaving school was training to be a chemist. I went to night school for a while studying chemistry, but that’s all,’ he said with a shrug.

‘Hmm, well, I don’t know,’ Mr Cox replied with a thoughtful frown. ‘If you got commissioned you might be able to get a post for training as a navigator in transport command.’

‘That’s not what I had in mind, sir,’ Tony said firmly. ‘I had my mind set on a pilot’s post in fighter command.’

‘So you want to be on the modern jets, eh,’ Mr Cox replied with a smile. ‘Well, you’re definitely aiming high there, Ryan. But you seem determined enough; no harm in having a go, you’ve nothing to lose.’

‘But the only thing that worries me, sir,’ Tony said with a hint of doubt, ‘is getting on the officers training course. Do you think I’d be accepted? I always thought that they only selected men with public school backgrounds – you know, posh types,’ he added with a grin.

Grinning back the older man replied, ‘Yes, that used to be the case a few years back, Ryan, but with modern technology getting so sophisticated the people in high places have decided to think again. It’s the best brains that are required these days, irrespective of what school turned them out,’ he said taking another long drag at his cigarette. ‘I suggest you go for it, lad, you’re young, fit, and determined. Then, as though he’d just remembered, he said, ‘Look, I’ve got a meeting with the camp commander tomorrow morning, I’ll see if I can pick any information up from him about getting on the course. Mind you,’ he said seriously, ‘I think the minimum time you’d have to sign on for would be eight years, any less wouldn’t be practicable with the training involved.’

‘Oh, I appreciate that, sir,’ Tony replied, hardly able to contain his enthusiasm. ‘I don’t mind how long really, if I can get a shot at a pilot’s position, and I’ve no domestic ties to hold me back either,’ he stressed.

‘As a matter of interest, Ryan, what would you do if you failed at officer training?’ Mr Cox enquired.

Without hesitation Tony said, ‘If I can get on it, sir, I won’t fail, but if by some remote chance I did, I’d take a physical training course. I definitely wouldn’t fail that, sir,’ he told him with a determined nod.

***

‘Hi there, Yorky, had a good leave then?’ called out a jovial voice as Tony was unlocking the bedding store door.

Recognising the voice, he saw Sergeant Banks standing in the doorway of his bunk. ‘Did you get plenty of good old Tetley’s ale down your neck in Leeds then?’ the sergeant asked jovially.

‘Hi there, Jerry,’ Tony called back, genuinely pleased to see his fellow Yorkshireman. ‘I certainly got my share, and a bit more,’ he replied. ‘Why? Are you jealous?’

‘Could be, but you’ll be able to get as much as you want soon, Yorky, won’t you? You’re out of the mob in the next few weeks if I remember correctly.’

‘Well I’ve about five weeks to do of my National Service, Jerry, but I’ve decided to stay on if I can get things sorted out as I’ve planned,’ he told him.

‘That’s great, so we won’t be losing you after all. I bet old Pike will be relieved not losing his right-hand man.’

‘You must be joking of course,’ Tony said with a start, then, going over to him shaking his head at the suggestion, he added, ‘You don’t think my ambition in life is cleaning out shithouses, do you, Jerry?’

‘Well, you’ve plenty of experience of the job, ain’t you?’ Jerry shot back and then in a serious tone he said, ‘But what do you have in mind then, Yorky? I suppose you’ll want some sort of decent trade that’ll give you the chance of promotion eh?’

‘Yes, that’s exactly right Jerry,’ Tony said, nodding. ‘I’m going to apply for air crew; I want to be a pilot in Fighter Command.’

‘What? Heck, you’d have to get commissioned before you could get on a course like that, Yorky,’ he told him seriously.

‘Sure, I know all about that,’ Tony replied confidently. ‘I’ve just been having a talk with SWO Cox down in the dining room, and he’s going to help me if he can; he advised me to have a go, and that’s just what I’m going to do, Jerry.’

‘Well, the best of luck to you, Yorky,’ Jerry said, ‘and if I can ever do anything to help you’ve only got to ask, you know that.’

‘I know that, Jerry,’ Tony said, thinking what a nice guy Jerry was.

‘Anyway, with the station warrant officer giving you advice