Free The Black Effect (Cold War) by Harvey Black

were.
    Wesley-Jones headed for the nearest of the two large inner tents, the first one containing the operations bird table, the second the plans bird table. He bent down and thrust his head and shoulders through the flap and was met by a buzz of chattering that quietened as all eyes turned towards his entrance. The tent was packed with officers from the various elements that made up the 14/20th Kings Hussars Tank Regiment Battlegroup. The buzz of conversation restarted. Officers, from various forces and arms, were lined along each side of the table in the centre of the dimly lit mini-marquee.
    “Come on in, Alex, don’t be shy.” Major Lewis, Commander of B-Squadron, also designated as Combat Team Bravo, laughed.
    Red-faced, Alex made his way towards his Officer Commanding and was greeted by his fellow troop commanders and his Commanding Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Lawrence Clark. He was just one element of the combat team that had been brought together to be briefed by their CO and the Brigade Commander, Brigadier Terence Stewart. On the left-hand side of the tent, leaning up against the tables and chairs that lined that one side, normally manned by signallers and clerks, were the four squadron commanders, and on the opposite side, the fifteen troop commanders Alex would shortly join. Mixed in with the officers of 14/20th Kings Hussars were representatives of the Infantry, engineers, artillery, signals, air force and Army Air Corps.
    Major Lewis moved alongside Alex.
    “Is this a routine update, sir, or something special?”
    “Just an update, Alex, keep us abreast of what’s going on around us.” The buzz was in full swing again, the soldiers also discussing what the briefing was likely to reveal.
    “Do we have any idea of what’s happening, sir?”
    “I’d like to think so. We have a big problem if we don’t. Look, the Brigadier will be with us in a minute, so I suggest you join your fellow officers over there. We’ll all know soon enough.”
    “Will do, sir.”
    Just as Alex had negotiated his way around the end of the table and over to the other side where he was greeted by his fellow troop commanders, an officer thrust aside the tent flaps allowing another figure to enter. Someone called the room to attention as the Brigadier and the Brigade Major made their way to the far end where the Brigade SO3-G2, the Staff Officer, Intelligence and Security, Captain Edward Rees, was pinning a large map of West Germany to a board resting on an even larger easel. Other map boards were pinned along, at certain points, on the tent’s sides. Brigadier Stewart turned to face the group. Slightly behind, and to his right, stood the Brigade Major, the officer equivalent to the Regimental Sergeant Major of a battalion or regiment; not a man to cross, whatever your rank. To their left were Captain Rees, Captain Neil Allen, SO3-G3 Ops and Staff Sergeant Douglas Owen, Intelligence Corps.
    The Brigadier cleared his throat. “At ease, gentlemen.”
    The assembled men relaxed slightly, waiting to receive the update from the Commander. Although some had an inkling of what had transpired, picking it up from snippets of radio conversations and discussions between the various command elements, this would be the first time they would collectively know what had occurred, what was still occurring in this battle, this war that had been thrust upon them.
    “Welcome, gentlemen. It is good to see you have all arrived safely, notwithstanding that I wish we were meeting under very different circumstances. We have met under canvas like this on many occasions in the past, but always as part of a field or command post exercise. On this occasion, the circumstances are much more grave.”
    He caught the eye of as many of his officers as he could, subject to the lighting. He wasn’t a big man, but had presence. With his sandy-coloured hair, sometimes slightly tufty as if the barber had missed a small section, and a ruddy complexion, he looked