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intercepted by Allied intelligence, the landlines are Saddam's last link. For the air planners, they have become a priority target.
        "Unfortunately, London and Washington want the attacks to stop. They think the news footage of kids playing next to bombed-out bridges is bad PR. But gents, Saddam has got to be denied access to those cables. And if Israel and Iran are to be kept out of the war, the Scuds have to be immobilized," Bert got up from the table and went over to a large scale map of Iraq, Iran, Saudi, Turkey, Syria, Jordan, and Kuwait that was tacked to the wall. He jabbed his finger at northwest Iraq.
        "Here," he said, "be Scuds."
        We all knew what was coming next.
        "From Baghdad there are three MSRs (main supply routes) running east to west," he went on, "mostly into Jordan. These MSRs are used for the transportation of fuel or whatever-and for moving Scuds. Now, it appears the Iraqis are firing the Scuds in two ways. From fixed-launcher sites, which are pre surveyed and from unfixed sites where they have to stop and survey before they fire. These are more tactical. We have hosed down most of the pre surveyed sites. But the mobiles."
        We had even more of an idea now.
        "Landlines are giving information to these mobile launchers, because all other com ms are down. And I doubt there are that many people left in the country who can repair these things. And that, basically, is the situation."
        "Your task is in two parts," said the boss. "One, to locate and destroy the landlines in the area of the northern MSR. Two, to find and destroy Scud."
        He repeated the tasking statement, as is standard tasking procedure. His task now became our mission.
        "We're not really bothered how you do it, as long as it gets done," he went on. "Your area of operation is along about 150 miles of this MSR.
        The duration of task will be fourteen days before resupply. Has anybody got any questions?"
        We didn't at this stage.
        "Right, Bert here will get you everything you want. I'll be coming back during the daytime anyway, but any problems, just come and get us. Andy, once you've got a plan sorted out, give me a shout and I'll have a look at it."
        Rather than dive straight in, we took time out to have a breather and a brew. If you fancy a drink, you take one from the nearest available source. We emptied Mark's flask, then looked at the map.
        "We'll need as much mapping as you've got," I said to Bert. "All the topographical information. And any photography, including satellite pictures."
        "All I've got for you is one-in-a-half-million air navigation charts.
        Otherwise, there's jack shit."
        "What can you tell us about weather conditions and the going?" Chris said.
        "I'm getting that squared away. I'll go and see if it's ready."
        "We also need to know a lot more about the fiber optics, how they actually operate," said Legs. "And Scuds."
        I liked Legs. He was still establishing himself in the Regiment, having come from Para Reg just six months before. Like all newcomers he was still a bit on the quiet side, but had become firm friends with Dinger.
        He was very confident in himself and his ability as patrol signaler, and having started his army life in the engineers, he was also an excellent motor mechanic. He got his name from being a real racing snake over the ground.
        Bert left the room, and discussions started up amongst the blokes. We were feeling relaxed. We appeared to have plenty of time, which is rare for the Regiment's operations, and we were in a nice, sterile environment; we weren't having to do our planning tactically, in the pouring rain in the back of beyond. There is a principle in the infantry that's referred to as "The Seven Ps": Proper Planning and Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance. We had perfect planning conditions. We'd have no excuses for Piss Poor