A Brief Evolution

To the accompaniment of gentle slurping.

The briefing officer continued.

More jobs were dished out. Various unshaven men and women wearing polo shirts and jeans were indicated at the assignment of each task. I didn’t merit a mention. Maybe I was in the wrong place? Maybe I should have worn my civvies? Maybe I shouldn’t have shaved?

My disappointment was short lived. When we reached the Administration information section I got not one, but two tasks! Okay, the briefer didn’t actually know my name. He managed to point me out successfully though.

Everyone had been given their position in the convoy. I was to bring up the rear. Watching their backs so to speak. Once ‘on the plot’ I was given the dangerous task of vehicle security. I was glad we would have body armour on. 6.10am in this particular street can be very hairy at times. You never know when someone might want to break into a car to steal some fast food wrappers or dog chews. They’d have to get past me first.

The bulk of the briefing pack was explained next. Waking up people is quite a Risky business. We’re not just talking morning breath here either. Halitosis aside, they seemed to have thought of everything and I mean everything. Even the environment had been considered. I felt safe I wouldn’t have to look out for Greenpeace activists trying to chain themselves to the dog van.

Good Communication was going to be vital in this dangerous operation. Even though it was unlikely we would ever be more than 5 yards from several colleagues, we had our own radio channel. Just to be sure. Mobile phones were to be switched off until the ‘target’ was secured. An added security measure. In case the spaniel had the dealer’s number on speed-dial.

Drug dealers have Human Rights too. Apparently.

The End.

Well, not quite. You see the briefing officer wasn’t the most senior officer present. Although I was pretty clear about my role in the morning’s events. Some people don’t listen to a mere briefing officer. So, it’s traditional for the next highest ranking officer to add their input. Then the next, and so on. I was glad Sir Ian wasn’t with us. I had a dinner date.

With those pearls of wisdom ringing in my ears I headed for my car. Swelling with pride at my good fortune to have been part of such a modern and professional briefing. How far we’ve progressed since the 70’s. I mean, can you imagine Jack Regan being that thorough?

No. He’d ‘brief’ something like this:-

(Reader aid:- You may need the assistance of ‘language line’ on the sidebar to understand the following)

“Eddie the Snout has been on the blower. Fat ‘Arry and ‘is boys are flogging gear. The beak ‘as signed a double u and we’re gonna spin ‘is drum. Big Willy will do the rory. The rest of you pile in and take ‘em out. They’re a bit tasty so we’re going tooled up. Just ‘oller if you get any grief. Grab a motor and let’s go.”

Positively Neolithic.

Hurrah for progress.

What if big-boned Harold found out his human rights hadn’t been considered? Who would look after the vehicles? Where was his spaniel?

The flares were a mistake too.