"Time for a brew Sarge?" asked Private Ronnie Diggs (Diggie to his friends).
"Why not, Diggie, make it a strong one, I need something hot and strong today, we won't get much sleep tonight."
"OK Sarge, coffee or tea," asked Diggie.
"Tea, and give me three sugars," the Sergeant answered.
"I'll have a coffee if you're asking Diggie," called Corporal Lewis from outside the guard house.
Diggie shouted some mild abuse at the corporal and disappeared into the small kitchen behind the guard room. The illicit kettle went under the cold water tap and was filled to the ‘max’ level. As he opened the door back into the guard room the windows imploded and an invisible hand hit him like a steam-driver. Following that there was complete silence and he felt a trickle of blood coming down the side of his face from his ears. Outside there was cacophony of sound, burglar alarms, vehicle alarms and the Claxton sound of the camp's emergency system, all of which was unheard by Diggie. When he regained his senses he saw that his sergeant was lying dead in the centre of the guardroom, of Corporal Lewis there was no sign. Staggering to the window he saw that there was little left of what was once the largest army facility in Britain, hovering above the area was a cloud of dust and smoke.
Diggie wasn't sure how long later, but he managed to see several blue flashing lights approaching the gate from the civilian side. No one needed to raise the barrier; it was not there any more. A minute later two paramedics stumbled over the rubble into the guard- house and gently led Diggie out of what was left of his post and over rubble into a waiting ambulance. Through the open doors of the ambulance Diggie could see the total devastation that was Aldershot barracks, there was another explosion as a tongue of flame shot a hundred feet into the air. As he watched several fire appliances rushed passed, followed by rescue units, then the paramedics closed the doors and the vehicle took to the air and headed toward the Basingstoke and North Hampshire Hospital.
Diggie could now hear faint background noises, like murmuring voices and the far-away noise of the engines; by the time they reached the hospital he had regained about fifty percent of his hearing. The ambulance landed next to the A&E department and he was quickly wheeled inside. The Accident and Emergency department was in chaos, there were gurneys everywhere, occupied by injured people, both civilians and military people. Out of nowhere a nurse appeared and made a quick examination of Diggie, "Do you know your name," she asked.
"Course I know my name," said Diggie. "What is it?"
" Private Ronnie Diggs, serial number 71768280," he replied.
"OK Private Diggs, we may be some time getting to you, you don't seem to be seriously injured."
"That's fine," said Diggie, "do you know what has happened?"
"It was a bomb," the nurse replied as she continued to complete the admittance form, "there are bombs going off all over the country, Portsmouth has been hit bad, out west, Yeovilton and Caldrose down in Cornwall have gone, RAF High Wycombe and Northolt seems to have been wiped off the map, and we have heard that half of the Houses of Parliament is gone. I'll put you in the waiting room, there's a TV in there."
"Thanks,” said Diggie
When Diggie arrived in what used to be the outpatients waiting room, which now seemed to be a triage area, the TV displayed only white noise. Diggie found himself parked next to a captain, not from his unit, but he had seen him around. "How are you Sir," he asked.
"Not too bad," the captain replied, "Military Police, aren't you Private?"
"Yes Sir, bit of a mess aint' it Sir?"
"It certainly seems so, bombs have gone off all over the country, there must be thousands dead or injured, we lucky ones need to get patched up and get back out there, the country needs us Private."
"Yes Sir, I’m with you there, Sir.”