(http://daamanagement.co.uk/images_client/main/249_Josette_Simon-Square.jpg)<br/><strong>Jen Godly "V"<br/>Sitting on the dock of the bay, watching the tide go away.<br/>Curious what the running noise might be.<br/></strong><br/><br/>The arc, covering the arc till she was told to move, that was what was important. Till the other members of the landing party had secured the immediate area and she could move on to other things.<br/><br/>The burning curiosity to know what the bloody hell was going on out there with the running and the shouting and the banging about notwithstanding of course.<br/><br/>She hadn't known these folks long, but she didn't want to see them dying around her. Partly because they seemed half decent, but mostly because she was sorta relying on them for her own skin.<br/><br/>It would be really nice to know just what was going on. It was always the waiting that grated, waiting and not knowing, trying to keep your imagination in check, trying to not think of the pink elephant, which of course would then start dancing in your head immediately. In Jen's case it was often a Spetznaz shaped pink elephant. She had come so close that night. If it wasn't for her naturally good nightvision and her dark skin tone, coupled with her ability to remain very still and quiet in mortal terror of her life for a very long time she was certain she would have been killed along with the rest of her platoon.<br/><br/>Still, could be worse. She could have stayed back in Blighty instead of here playing 'hunt the spooky noise' with a bunch of yanks and a canuck.<br/><br/>What was going on out there?