Chris Booyse
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AND THE LION AND THE LAMB LIE DOWN TOGETHER Chapter 13: "Silence in court! Bring in the prisoners!" The prisoners shuffled in, their leg irons jangling. Grinning guards arranged them in alphabetical order behind three trestle tables. Loud conversation in the packed public gallery died down. The Judge glared balefully at the unfortunate prisoners. "You are charged with aggravated assault. In addition, you are also charged with damage to state property. Prisoner Lubbe will also be ch
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AND THE LION AND THE LAMB LIE DOWN TOGETHER Chapter 12: “Come in, Guys, come in. They are in Ward Two”, came André Jordaan’s voice from outside. Peleton forty-four had finally come to visit their sick friends. “At long last”, exclaimed Vaatjie. “We thought you had forgotten all about us. Some friends you lot turned out to be.” “Nahh,” Wouter smiled. “Who wants to visit you bunch of pansies in any case?” The recruits crowded around Johan’s bed. He was propped up against the wall with Riaa
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This is the story of a gay National Serviceman (an Army conscript) during the South African / Angolan war in the 1980s. The first few chapters deal with the main character's basic training. After Basics he is sent to the border (that is what we called Namibia), where he experiences his first firefight. He falls in love during basics. During the firefight they both realise the depth of their love for each other.
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André Jordaan had just finished his Field Medic training. The position as Medical Orderly at the SA Infantry School was his first “real” job in the SA Medical Services. This was actually a six weeks’ practical phase, before he would return to No.1 Military Hospital for Advanced Field Medical Training. André was short and slightly chubby, with midnight black hair and a pair of twinkling blue eyes. He was also one of the leading sources of gossip in Training Command. Vaatjie had taken
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RSM Struwig stood rigidly to attention. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He clenched his jaw. He felt like a delinquent schoolboy, summoned to the headmaster’s office. Colonel Viljoen had been ranting for an hour already. The high-pitched nasal voice bored into RSM Struwig’s skull like a dentist’s drill. What really annoyed him was that despite his years of exemplary service to the army and his position as a senior warrant officer, the Colonel treated him as a troop caught sleeping on w
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Johan drifted in a sea of blackness. No thoughts, no memories, no pain disturbed the quiet of his mind. He was enveloped in warmth and serenity. Johan drifted deeper and deeper into the comfortable nothingness. He was content. After a long time a face slowly appeared out of the darkness. The lopsided grin was followed by a snub nose covered with freckles. Dark green eyes smiled at him. “Is this what you really want?” a familiar voice asked. “I am so tired. I don’t want
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Chaos greeted Peleton 44 when they entered their bungalow. Beds were overturned. Not a kas was spared. Every kas gaped open, with its contents strewn over the floor. The kaste were locked with the padlocks that the recruits have brought from home. It was evident that the fragile hinges on the doors had been forced off. The forced-off doors were also completely bent out of shape. At least the contents of the trommels were still safe, as the hinges on the trommels were much sturdier as th
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“I will NOT send half-trained troops to their death!” thundered RSM Struwig. “Be reasonable, RSM.” Colonel Viljoen tried to placate the enraged RSM. “The training programme has only been truncated by three weeks.” “Yes Colonel, but those are the three crucial weeks. They form the final part of the Bush Phase. Without bush training the troops will be sitting ducks.” “They can pick up the skills as they go along. These troops are needed in the Operational Are
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The Parade Ground at No. 1 Training Battalion Voortrekkerhoogte is Hallowed Ground. For the English-speaking militarists, the parade ground is the symbol of the conquest of Southern Africa by the British Empire. On this Hallowed Ground, Lord Roberts formally concluded the military conquest. Here, his presence is still very palpable. For the Afrikaner militarists, the parade ground is also Hallowed Ground, but for another reason. This parade ground is the symbol of how we recap
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The metal dustbin lid hit the floor with a heart-stopping crash. “Come on Ladies, a new day is dawning! Rise and shine, you lazy FUCKERS!” The overhead strip lighting came on and bathed the bungalow in its harsh white light. Stunned recruits tumbled from their beds. Corporal du Plooy was in full cry. Bellowing obscenities, he stormed down the centre aisle of the bungalow, yanking sheets off recruits still in their beds. “UP! UP! On your FEET!” Groggy recruits shuffled
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“Hey, it’s OK” whispered Riaan. He unobtrusively squeezed Johan’s hand. “No, it will never be OK. I’m a sick pervert” sobbed Johan. Riaan worriedly regarded Johan. “What pervert? What are you talking about? There is nothing wrong with you.” Johan’s shoulders heaved convulsively. He curled up into an even tighter ball. Riaan worried that the other recruits might notice Johan’s distress and ask inconvenient questions. He squeezed Johan’s leg. “Dry your face. Try to
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“Line up at the counter! Start at the left. Work your way through to the right. When you're finished, fall in outside the store” shouted Corporal du Plooy. Several storeman stood behind the long counter, about two metres apart from each other. They were National Servicemen, like the recruits, but had already finished their basic training. They wore the blue berets of the Quartermaster's Corps, in contrast with the green berets of the Infantry Corps, which our heroes would wear.
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Army trucks do not make for comfortable travelling. Four wooden benches ran the length of the Samil 100’s load bed, overflowing with recruits. The sides and top of the truck bed were enclosed in green canvas. The ten jolting kilometres from Pretoria Station to the SA Infantry Training Battalion in Voortrekkerhoogte took about half an hour. To the suffering recruits it felt like a lifetime. The long convoy disrupted Pretoria’s lunchtime traffic. Military police manned every intersect
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Siembamba, mamma se kindjie, Siembamba, mamma se kindjie, Draai sy nek om, gooi hom in die sloot, Trap op sy kop, dan is hy dood. Siembamba, Mummy's little child, Siembamba, Mummy's little child, Wring his neck, throw him in the ditch, Step on his head, then he is dead - Afrikaans nursery rhyme Chapter 1: “Hey you! Where the fuck are you going? Follow the red arrows! Are you fucking colour blind?” Johan shrank away from the bellowing military policeman.
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Wolves and sheep will live together in peace, And leopards will lie down with young goats. Calves and lion cubs will feed together, And little children will take care of them. - Isaiah 11:6 This is a story of war. If you expect the usual, "Gung-Ho - we defeated the enemy and covered ourselves with glory," you will be sadly disappointed. This story is about suffering, but it is also about hope. Hope that these atrocities will never again be perpetrated against the helpless. Hope
