‘Are we going to get some food?’ Asked Hassan, a question that was still on everyone’s lips.
‘There is no food yet. Sometimes in battle, you will have to go days without food and water, and still make sound decisions when required.’
On that depressing note, we moved out for our first objective, with all our kit on our backs. We were ordered to hold our rifle in both hands, and place it above our head, a position we had to stay in for thirty minutes at a time, as we marched. Then we were asked to place the rifle at a ninety degree angle from our body, directly in front of us. We were also required to hold it in that position for thirty minutes, before returning the weapon to the previous position. This was described as the isometric weapon hold, the pain in my arms after just a few minutes was unbearable, but I tried to ignore it as Captain Jones explained ‘It’s all a state of mind men, your body can do what we are asking of you, it’s your mind that decides it’s not possible.’
Whenever Captain Jones was preoccupied, we would drop the rifle to our chests, to give our aching arms a rest, and then put it back up. The days first exercise was a good seven miles walk through mostly fields, which took us just over two hours. An opening appeared to our right, where two large Viking vehicles were sat in mud pits. ‘This is your next task’ said Captain Jones, pointing at the vehicles. ‘Get back into your teams, first to get their vehicle out of the mud is the winner. Proctor, I want you to move over to Team Red, to level it out.’ Hassan tried to remove his rucksack before the exercise started, but we were ordered to complete the task with our rucksacks and rifles on. When Captain Jones started the objective, Team Blue sprinted straight into the mud, making a beeline for the back of the vehicle, as I viewed the obstacle from different angles. I quickly weighed up the situation in my head, and then ordered Hassan and Adrian to collect the wooden fence posts that had blown down along the edge of the field. When they arrived back, I ordered my other team members to push from the back as we worked on the front. Hassan and I started to dig the front wheels out with a wooden pole, as Adrian laid down the other sticks as a track, in front of the vehicle. I looked at the other team, who had achieved precisely nothing, still continuing to all push from the back as the front of the vehicle embedded itself further into the mud. I opened the passenger door as Adrian opened the drivers door, and we started to push from our positions as the vehicle started shifting. Hassan joined the team pushing from the back, as the front wheels hit the wooden poles and started to slowly roll up them. The mud was caked up our legs, and we slipped as we pushed it towards the green of the field. The back wheels hit the wooden poles, and the front wheels creaked as they hit somewhat firmer ground, and we could push it up onto the field. ‘Come on lads’ I said, pulling up some of the wooden posts, that were embedded in the mud, ‘Let’s get the other vehicle out.’ We rammed the wooden sticks under the front wheels, and pushed the vehicle out within a few minutes, much to the grudging appreciation of Cox. It was the first point, where I felt like I had unquestionably done better than him, with incisive decision making. We removed our rucksacks, and placed them in a circle, sitting on them as we ate a cereal bar, handed out by Captain Jones. I got the impression, this would be our only food of the day, and it wasn’t much. Shortly after, we packed up again and moved out, not sure where or what our next objective would be. We continued to march, holding the weapon in the isometric hold, unable to put it down without permission. ‘Put the weapon ninety degrees in front of you,’ ordered Captain Jones. ‘This rifle weighs five kilograms, we do this to help the weapon feel lighter, and truly become part of you.’
The continuous walking, marching and running was having a detrimental effect on my feet, every step was hurting, and with no time to recover, they were becoming a real problem. After two hours walking, in what direction I wasn’t sure, we stopped for our next exercise. ‘Everyone line up in front of me’ shouted Captain Jones. ‘Driver and Cox, come and stand by me. Now I want you to pick a team, to complete the next task with. Pick your strongest men, who you trust and can depend on.’ This was the kind of thing I really didn’t like, picking the strongest to the weakest, in front of them. With only ten men, it didn’t take long, both of us sticking to our original teams. Hassan was picked last, which was obviously disheartening for him. The objective was to carry a wounded solider, along a gruelling rural walk, while keeping your weapon accessible. I lifted Hassan onto my shoulders, in a fireman like hold, a job no one was volunteering for. We all set off up the hill ahead, at the top, Hassan was slipping off, so I re-straightened him and carried on towards the hedge in front of us. Some of the recruits were making a real big deal of the task, a couple had barely moved from the start. The ground was slippy and muddy, and I fell to my knees at one point, but managed to re-compose myself. The next part was around one hundred yards of fairly level field, with a bunch of trees at the far end. As we got to within twenty yards of the trees, Second Lieutenant Jackson stepped out from behind a bush and shouted at us. ‘Where’s your rifle Driver?’ I quickly reached around my side, grabbed the L85A2, and pulled it around to face Second Lieutenant Jackson. He nodded his approval and told us we had finished, so I lowered Hassan to the ground and he got off. We sat around and waited for the others, and talked a little. ‘So what do you want to join the army for?’ Hassan asked, as he sat on the wooden fence beside me.
‘You know when you witness something so horrible, but don’t do anything about it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And you really wish you had, you think about what you should have done, or said. It eats away at you, until it’s all you can think about. What I saw in the Pentland Hills disgusted me, I feel sick just thinking about it. I couldn’t do anything about it at the time, there was far too many of them. But I want to go back with a fucking army on my side, and obliterate them.’
‘I don’t blame you Nathan, anyone would.’
‘And the fuckers who have taken over my house, I want to take them out too. What about you Hassan, why do you want to join?’
‘I want Shazia and my children to be proud of me, you know, after what happened to Amid, I feel I was a disappointment when it happened.’
‘In what way?’
‘I didn’t bring him home, I failed. Every time I look into Shazia’s eyes, I can see her disappointment.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true Hassan, you did what you had to do, you had to protect the rest of your family, and get them to a safe place, which you did. No one blames you.’
‘I blame me.’
‘Maybe, but that’s the problem. You cannot carry that around with you.’
‘Would you make sure Shazia and the children are taken care of, should anything happen to me Nathan?’
‘Of course I will, but you don’t have to talk like that, they are safe now.’
As more recruits finished the exercise, they joined us and we expressed our opinions on the up coming war. Everyone’s perspective was different, it’s a strange situation we are finding ourselves in. The world has not had a common threat like this, maybe ever. Even the Nazis had sympathisers, I don’t know what is happening in other countries, but I can only presume it’s something similar. The world has to join together to fight this war, there will be no second chance. I’m still sure, if given the opportunity to speak to Torierro, we could get him to see the error of his ways, and join us to fight the creatures. What can they be offering him that’s worth this?
When all recruits had finished the exercise, Captain Jones ordered us to march to the next check point, some three miles away, along mostly tarmac roads, which were particularly rough on our joints. We continued to use the isometric weapon hold, and by the time we reached the exercise, our limbs were burning. ‘This will be your final operation of the day’ said Captain Jones, handing me a map and Cox a compass. ‘Ahead of you, is a fifteen mile walk, with four checkpoints, marked on your map. You have two twenty kilogram jerry cans to carry, per person, and all your gear. This is not a team exercise
, you must complete the task together, everyone must finish. Lieutenant Higginson and Second Lieutenant Jackson will accompany you on the journey, I will see you back at the camp.’ Having walked blind for the past forty eight hours, it was good to find out exactly where we were, Norbreck just past Bispham. Our position was marked on the map with a red triangle, as were the other four check points. To be fair, I didn’t think we really needed a compass, we could just follow the coast around Fleetwood to hit the check points, and then follow the mouth of The River Wyre, where it enters the sea, back inland towards Blackpool. Before Captain Jones left in his vehicle, he unpacked twenty two jerry cans and five full ammo boxes. Basic maths told us we didn’t have enough men to carry the load, with the recruits left depleted to ten. We would have to find a way to carry the five ammo boxes, and searched nearby for inspiration. From our position on the beach, I could see a small derelict building, that had once been a public toilet. On the outside was a metal railing door, that was hanging off its bottom hinge. I walked up to inspect it, and waved Adrian to follow me, which he did. Removing the rifle from my shoulder, I aimed at the hinge and fired at it, until the door came crashing to the floor. Nathan and I lifted it off the ground, it was fairly heavy on its own, but we would be able to use it to carry our load. We dropped it on the ground by the men, and loaded five ammo boxes and four jerry cans onto it. Adrian and I took the first shift carrying the door, as everyone else picked up a jerry can with each hand, plus their rucksack and rifle. We set off towards our first marker, a roundabout on Princes Way, Fleetwood, where the road becomes Laidleys Walk. But it wasn’t long before we had to stop for a break, the weight getting too much for some. The time was three pm, and we had been up since the early hours, everyone was tired and aching, and as yet we couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. After a short break, we set off again, but the break started a precedent, that would see us stopping every twenty minutes with the weight getting too much for everyone. I was thankful the metal railing from the door was reasonably easy to get a grip on, the rust and flaking black paint giving us something to grip. The jerry cans were harder, Private Beck attempted to carry them on his shoulders, between this head and rucksack, but he struggled. The group started to split just before we reached the first marker, we left the beach and followed Princes Way up to the roundabout, where Lieutenant Higginson had some good news for the group. ‘You can lose five litres of water out of your jerry cans’ he said, as the men wasted no time taking the tops off and discarding the water. I don’t know what the height restriction is in the British Army, but Lieutenant Higginson must have been close to the limit. He was a tiny man, maybe five four, with a shaven head and no neck. But he didn’t take any shit, that was for sure. He was not afraid to get right into the face of anyone, as long as he could reach them. We re-grouped and rested for twenty minutes, before setting off for the mouth of The River Wyre, where the second check point was positioned. The walk was much the same, stop starting, waiting for different recruits as they stopped exhausted. The metal door was carried by Cox and Proctor, with Adrian and I taking their jerry cans. They were a pain to carry, the handles slippery with sweat, and nothing to grip. Cox and Proctor didn’t last as long as us though, the door swapping hands three times before we reached the third check point, near Skippool. Privates Beck and Jackett did the best with it, keeping it moving maybe the longest out of all of us. I was struggling with the jerry cans more than I had with the door, I resorted to tying the loose straps from my rucksack around the handles, and letting my back take more of the weight. We followed the river towards the town, before moving more inland as we neared Skippool. The river looked a bit lower than when we had past on our way to the camp, and not as treacherous. The large bodies of water that had hindered our approach seemed to be draining at a remarkable pace, I only remember one large rural area, where the water was still shin deep. When we got to Skippool, we drained a further five liters of water from each jerry can and rested for thirty minutes. Still no food was offered to us, only water, we were all completely exhausted, in pain and sleep deprived. Sweat was pouring off Hassan quicker than he could wipe it away, he was white and breathing heavily. But we all were, it was close to eleven pm, we had been walking with this load for around eight hours, but with only the final stretch back to camp left, two maybe three hours, we all wanted to push on. A few of the recruits took toilet breaks, Wilson, a Prestonian IT consultant, left his rifle unguarded as he went behind a tree. Lieutenant Higginson saw the unguarded weapon, and removed it, reprimanding Wilson. ‘It’s the single most stupid thing a soldier can do’ he shouted, at a clearly embarrassed Wilson. ‘What were you fucking told about your weapon? I don’t fucking believe it.’
As we packed up ready to move out, it became apparent everyone except Hassan had taken a turn carrying the metal door, now comfortably the heaviest load left. So I took the front, and he carried the back. The pace was noticeable slower than Adrian and I had been achieving, and I turned to check Hassan was OK. He repeated he was fine, his arms were aching but he could handle it. As we cut across the landscape towards Blackpool, there was a large wooded area in our path. A barbed wire fence that surrounded it had collapse after being hit by falling trees, we carefully climbed over it and headed through. It was a cemetery, surrounded by dying trees. We continued along the gravel path, passing headstones covered in dark ash. As we reached the entrance, the metal door we were carrying suddenly dropped to the floor behind me, causing me to lose my grip on it, as it smashed to the ground. I turned round and looked at Hassan, as the ammo boxes and jerry cans, tumbled off the sides. He had fallen to his knees, with his arm across his chest. Quickly it dawned on me what was happening, I shouted ‘Medic’, as his body collapsed to the ground, hitting with some force and no attempt to soften the fall. I ran over to him and rolled him onto his back, as I was joined by the other recruits. His eyes and mouth were still open, fixed in an expression of anguish, his skin turning blue in front of us. ‘Move’ shouted Lieutenant Higginson, kneeling down by his side. ‘Give me some space.’ He opened his army jacked, placed his hands together on his chest, and started to pump. One, two, three. Hassan’s body shook with the impact as Lieutenant Higginson’s compressions became more and more violent and desperate. He stopped pumping his chest, and moved over to mouth to mouth resuscitation, we knew these moments were critical, if he was to survive. But unfortunately, Hassan died on the ground of Carleton Cemetery, at twelve forty seven am. We just didn’t have the equipment to save him, Lieutenant Higginson tried for ten minutes, but it was futile, he had gone. We sat on the cemetery floor, shocked by what had just happened. Lieutenant Higginson and Second Lieutenant Jackson were just as quiet as the rest of us, all dumb struck, unable to speak. I closed Hassan’s eyes, his body had started to go cold and stiffen, so I fastened his jacket back up, I’m not sure why. The men were exhausted, but not one recruit considered leaving Hassan’s body, we all wanted to bring him back with us. His wife and children needed a body to grieve for, this was going to be an almighty shock for them. After a period of silence, Adrian stood up and started making room on the metal door for Hassan’s body. I joined him and we placed him on the door, surrounding him with the ammo boxes and jerry cans. We moved out, with Adrian and myself carrying the door, and left the cemetery. The remaining couple of hours walk was completed, for the most part in silence, nobody was complaining of aching limbs or lack of food, even thought we all felt it. Lieutenant Higginson admitted there had been cases of young fit recruits dying during intensive training sessions, but it had to be this hard, very few people have the physical and mental strength to fight in a war, and what we had gone through was nothing in comparison to what new army recruits would have had to deal with. By the time the Delta Security Base came into view, through the thick fog covering the camp, my arms felt like they were a couple of inches longer. The camp was eerie in the small hours, the hustle and bustle had disappeared, replaced with an ghostly silence. The security guards let us thro
ugh, and locked the gates behind us, as we continued towards the camp. We past the stadium and hotel, continuing to where our tents had been erected. ‘Put Hassan in the medical tent’ said Lieutenant Higginson, ‘And we’ll deal with him tomorrow. You all get some sleep’
CHAPTER THREE
01/12/2027 - Time 10:20
When I climbed out of my tent this morning, there was a lot of movement around the medical tent. Two soldiers were stood by the entrance, and other more senior officers were busily working inside. A couple of the recruits were already up, and were chatting outside Wilson’s tent, so I walked over. ‘What’s happening?’ I asked, stretching my aching limbs.
‘They’ve been around the tent for the last half an hour,’ replied Wilson. ‘They’re not letting anyone inside though, I don’t think they’d considered this eventuality.’
‘It was pretty much the worst end to the day possible’ stated Proctor. I couldn’t argue with him, it had been a very affecting day. I had seen plenty of death in the past few months, but none quite so pointless, death from natural causes. It didn’t get us anywhere, he didn’t die for a cause, he just died in vain. Captain Jones walked purposefully out of the tent towards our small group. ‘Driver’ he shouted, in an authoritative voice.
Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2) Page 32
