"You slept on sentry duty last night. They stole the GPMG. Now the OC wants to charge you because you endangered the life of your section-mates"
And so there I was, hunching in the driver's compartment of the armoured vehicle, palms sweaty, praying. Praying for deliverance from the punishment that was to come. Prayer for the OC to forget about all this rubbish. Praying so hard for deliverance from formal punishment. Praying for mercy despite the fact that I deserved punishment. The people in the back chatted over the intercom while waiting for the order to move out. Laughter and wild hoots at ribald jokes. I flicked my intercom switch to Recieve Only, placed my hands on the wheel and controls because the order to move could come at any moment, and began to pray out loud.
And I prayed and prayed. In the Name of Jesus I prayed.
A week later, the decision came through.
One extra duty only.
Only one, where others had 3, and the original intent was to confine us for 2 whole weeks (SOL).
That's the defining moment for my army years. Not Oxford, not ORD, but a humid morning in the jungles, sitting in a greasy, oily, smoking, vehicle, sweating in the heat and in fear, praying and praying, and being delivered by God.
