Baloney

Write a story about someone struggling to swallow some harsh (but fair) constructive criticsm

Baloney

So it was!

Jake sat with his head in his hands leaning with elbows on his knees.

The shock death, of his father, had just assailed his conscious awareness with penetrating reality.

He was 18 years old, had just started a new job at the factory of a British consortium as a laboratory technician. The loss drained thought, leaving a mighty vacuum ….. not knowing how to take the next step…. without that stable, solid reference point and compassionate, reliable advisor – his Father.

It had been two days since he was advised of his father’s death, he was a wreck, finding no recourse to anything that would allay the emotional, painful void it left in his life.

He stood, walked to the window overlooking the valley. It was raining. But Oh! So bequtiful! Green and the trees buffeted in the wind, the mist shrouding the distant hills as the sun struck the crests of the upper clouds. Lighting flashed in the mounded cumulonimbus with bold violet steaks. It was worth painting!

‘Baloney!’

It came to him as suddenly and as penetrating as his fathers death.

The ‘Old Man’ had said that to him on the day he had told his father he was not qualified nor able to do a task. It was the perspective in a drawing he had to do for school that he could not get right. And so abandoned it. He had said. “I can’t Do it!”and left the room slamming the door.

The ‘Old Man’ waited for Jake to return. He did ! And he repeated it. “I can’t do it.”

Jake then proceeded to have an argument with his father. He did not want to accept that he had to bow down to the local school mentality, or that he had to study these subjects to become a person with a future. He also was irritated by the fact that his father was right. He basically knew there was something wrong with his attitude towards both his study and his father.

After a few moments his father looked him in the eye and calmly said:

“Baloney Jake! Don’t give me that balderdash! If you are alive you can learn. And you can do it right! Amen!”

That was all it took! He had gone and completed the drawing and passed his Technical drawing at school with distinction at the end of his final year.

Jake turned and left the lounge for his room. As much as he wanted to stay, watching the drama of the storm as it swept the valley below. He sat at the desk and pulled out a note pad and started writing.

Resign ? Not yett

Study the most interesting subject I can. ART Chemistry Journalism

Mathematics Religion……... I like them all

Earn enough to live from

Sketch and paint

Find a place in an aesthetic location

Set up a Studio for myself

Sketch and Paint!!!!

Be a complete professional.

Sketch and Paint.

Create enough material for an exhibition

Hold an exhibition.

Sketch and Paint!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He had been told by his teachers and friends – ‘There is no future in Art!’ ‘One cannot live off Art!’ “Painters are poor!’ ‘Its very difficult to become successful as an Artist!’

‘BALONEY!’

Still it was depressing as he still felt as though he had not quite resolved the conflict he had had – not necessarily with his fathers criticism of his ways, but something deeper in him – still it hung there like a menace. His criticsm was correct and fair and was resolved by the statement of fact he made to Jake.

There was hardly time to get started but he did. He was making progress and had been doing some painting. Nothing he liked but he was getting the hang of the watecolour technique and it was satisfying – because he was learning and making good progress.

The Southern continent was in the throes of a War that did not seem to be possible to win nor end. Stalemate! There was no Checkmate was in sight! Two weeks passed and life settled into the new ways of not having ‘Him’ around anymore.

Then the inevitable came like another lightning bolt.

The following day war broke out on the border again and this time is was serious. There was news that the Mozambique forces had shot down the second Vickers Vicount with border SA-7 heatseeker missile launcher. This followed an attack into both Zimbabwe and Mozambique by Rhodesian planes and ground forces killing hundred of the resistence fighters.

He was summoned to the military barracks that afternoon.

He grabbed his rifle and the kit that he had at home, took the first transport he found,

Jake scrambled on board the first bus that passed towards town and was pleasantly surprised to see two of the neighbourhood boys there, as well, with their meagre army kit they possesed.

“Hi! Solomon, Anton.”

“Jake! What do you think! It doesn’t look like just a few days this time! Hey?

“Nah! It’s not a speculation point. Right now it is serious War on the front.

It’s now February and I’d say we’ll be lucky to see home fires again before Christmas.”

“You guys are both infantry so stay loose and watch for land mines. I have another rough time ploughing through bush in hot armoured vehicles as back-up with air support… I hope! ………… I heard speculation that Machel wants the border cleared. There was a meeting with all the Southern countries for a concerted effort against both Rhodesia and South Africa colonial racism. So it is Angola, Zambia, Namibia, Botswana and us, full-on along the entire border with these two countries.

It looks like a major offensive against the white south while the leaders call for the talks with the UN and the OAU members. They want elections and freeing the banned black organizations and majority vote and real democracy.”

They arrived at the station. The platform was crowded with military personnel waiting for the next train to the South. There were thousands of men.

“Which unit were you drafted for.” A surprisingly tall armoured batallion major asked.

“I am in 4VRP(4th. Vehicle Response Platoon)” Jake replied.

“What’s your name?”

“Jake de Almos.”

“That was your father that was killed in the SA attack two weeks ago?”

“Yes!”

“Sorry to hear that. I worked with Col. Alfonso de Almos at HQ and fought with him in the bush.”

“Whats the plan?” Jake inquired not really expecting an informative reply.

“We are awaiting specific direction from Samora Machel right now. Last mention in Maputo he wanted us to cross into Rhodesia and whip their border patrols and penetrate into the country maybe as far as Salisbury. There will be other support fighters launching on this attack, but not directly in the same area.”

“I see and how long are we going to be in Rhodesia?”

“Could be days or weeks, depending on the resistnce.”

“Thanks for the briefing.”

“Sure! Look after yourself. See you when you get back!”

They went south to the border where the armoured column waited in the dense bush. Jake met up with his unit. They had a personnel carrier for infantry and

two mobile mortar cars, two long range guns an anti-aircraft trailer and two mobile units with machine guns and a SA-7 heat seeking missile launcher, that would operate from the border only.

Everything was camouflaged, basically; anything standing still looked like bush whether it was a vehicle or person.

They moved forward with look-outs and spotters sent ahead.

In the first day they moved through the bush and thickets without any engagement, then on the second day a patrol was spotted. Two machine gun units and the personnel carrier followed into a valley.

On the third day they were under fire and their ground troops went into action as they used a rockyridge and the thick treeline for cover. Two helicopters arrived and the radios crackled with the action . The SA-7 scored a direct hit on the first helicopter, which trailed off into the bush and was not seen again. There was now heavy fire exchange with the Rhodesian forces.

One of their mortar units hit a landmine and capsized with two killed. Then two Canberras dropped ordinance which blew up two gun units and a mortar and killed 5 infantry members.

Jake’s vehicle was hit and he was thrown clear uninjured. He did not know what happened to the rest of the party. There was follow-up by two Rhodesian helicopters with twin machineguns swooping down over their attack unit with devastating results.

There were 12 more casualties of which 6 died and the other six were badly wounded.

It as a grim scene and even grimmer for the morale of the young men. By comparison we may have killed 4 of theirs and shot down a helicopter but Frelimo had lost two gun units, two mortars and 17 dead.

Tragic losses for what! For Jake that just brought back the loss of Col. Alfonso de Almos in sharper focus. The family was dedicated to the fight for liberty. His mother had been a nurse and lost her life in the city hospital when it was struck by incendiay bombs after a motar attack. And then his father killed in ction in a counter attack by the Rhodesians on ‘Operation Torch’ after the fuel depot in Salisbury was blown up by the Mozambique Frelimo guerrillas.

Jake lay on the hill in the shade behind the rocks. Seven men were coming down the ridge in Rhodesian camouflage with automatic rifles. He pulled off his ammunition belts and set up his tripod and watched them approach. Four in front of him on the down slope and three on the ridge.

They were close enough. It was fatal to stay in a line. But they had no idea That from his view it was….a straight line... an easy target for an automatic rifle. He took aim, waited 3 more seconds for all to be aligned. Then he let them have it. When the smoke cleared and the cartridges lay hot on the ground next to him….there was not one left standing in the bush.

He waited!

Nothing. No movement!

Then he heard a faint rustle along the ridge. He picked up his rifle and his ammo belt and crawled back up the ridge into the hillock behind him with a cover of thick Rhus trees. He could see through the bush along the ridge.

He waited!

He was sweating. It was very hot but, additionally he did not know where the rest of the party was…….and there were 7 Rhodesians out there on his trail. His arms and back were cold, he felt a shiver of nervous tension and he lay with his eyes fixed along the ridge out there.

There they were! The other 3 of the Rhodesian Unit. He unhitched two grenades from his belt. Pulled the pins and waited.

They had not seen him yet. He was shaking with anticipation and the sweat ran from under his arms and down his back . They kept moving. They were opposite him on the downward slope, all three were in the trench behind Jakes’s first position. He held the grenades in one hand and swung with all his might……..they flew through the air, striking the side of the trench…. there was a moment of absolute stillness…..then they blew.

Jake waited for the smoke and dust to clear.

He waited!

Nothing!

Still he waited.

He thought. ‘It’s dead quiet.’ He smiled at the pun.

He would have to be cautious; but those two moves he’d made just netted 7 Rhodesians Soldiers that would not be fighting against FRELIMO again.

He was about to move when he heard a helicopter, it was coming in low.

It hovered over the area and circled and two soldiers were lowered on ropes to the ground. They made their way through the cover of bush to the ridge. The helicopter circled and came in lower.

He could hear the radios. The helicopter landed. Jake loaded his rifle and reset the tripod and adjusted the scope.

He waited!

He could hear the helicopter motors ticking over. Then the pitch increased and he saw it rising above the ridge.

He took aim. He had to get a sustained stream of ammo on his target for long enough to immobilize the craft. He took a bead on the tanks, then decided to take out the pilot and crew first ...they were visible up front.He waited as the machine turned and swung to gain height.The ‘copter turned at an angle to swing up and climb. The cockpit was facing him. He opened fire and let them have it, with all the lead he had.

The machine lurched, as he reloaded, swinging like a tired bird in a storm. He peppered the tanks and the rear stabilizer. The helicopter was going down. It was aimed down the ridge away from him. He heard the motor choke and splutter and the whine of the ship spinning without the rotor to stabilize its trajectory and then…... the loud bang.

He had downed the helicopter with three personnel in front, dead or badly injured, as well as the bodies of the others they had picked up.

Neat he thought! He was operating at full capacity just like his school exams.

But now he had to get out of here and get some support and back up.

It took another two days before he found any of the Felimo units that had crossed the border with him. He met 5 infantry members with a radio who explained the position of the various units that started out with him from the border.

They had suffered heavy punishment from the air strikes and the helicopter attacks The order was to retreat, to regroup so that they could rearm and get additional motorized support. These 5 members were on their way back to the main group after they were separated when the canberra’s bombed the unit.

They all spoke of the two helicopters that absolutely wreaked havoc with the Frelimo units after the bombing.

Jake told them about the annihilation of the whole bush patrol and taking out the second helicopter. They were electrified at the news – they stood there open-mouthed as he related what he had done.

Here was the one man attack force that had done it. They marvelled at his strategy in doing the almost impossible.

When they arrived back at the camp to the rest of the units that had survived the attack, he had a few guerrillas promoting him as a hero.

He told his story again. Then he realized an important element and he told them what his father had said to him the last time he saw him:

“Baloney Jake! Don’t give me that balderdash! If you are alive you can learn. And you can do it right! Amen!”

end