‘We have a reward for you’ said Captain Jones, with a wry grin. ‘Climb up to the top of the sand dunes.’ The men wearily stood up, lifting their aching limbs up the hill. At the top, we overlooked the beach, as the wind barrelled across the open land. ‘Right men, roll down the hill’ Captain Jones ordered. ‘One at a time.’
‘How the fuck is this a reward?’ I thought to myself, but to be fair, it certainly warmed us up. We took it in turns to roll our knackered bodies down the hill, one recruit even managed to injure his back in the process, and end up in first aid. After we’d taken turns rolling down the sand dunes, we were moved further down the beach to where the next exercise had been set up. The sleep deprivation in the group was evident in every face I looked at, we were shivering, tired and hungry. The new task involved splitting into our teams, and lying on the floor as a large, heavy wooden log was placed across us. We all had to hold it above our torso, for five minute periods. Those minutes became an agony for the recruits, who were already close to their breaking points. Hassan asked to be seen by the medical officer, and was taken back to the vehicles. All the men dug in, and pushed through the pain barrier, to complete the task. After around an hour of lifting on our backs, we were ordered to carry the logs to a set point, a mile down the beach. Hassan arrived back, and we lifted the log onto our shoulders, and marched the mile, hopeful it would be our last exercise of the day. There were screams of pain from every recruit during the march, as the pressure on our shoulders grew to an unmanageable level. When we arrived at the rally point, and put the logs down, I could barely stand up straight, I was in so much pain. Captain Jones asked us to gather around for an update, ‘We have lost a further two recruits’ he shouted, as I looked around the group worried that one might be Hassan. ‘McGowan and Lee. They handed in their resignation in before leaving for this exercise. If anyone else wants to go, now is the time.’ He looked around the group, pausing a moment to see if anyone would take him upon his offer, but they didn’t. ‘This race is not an individuals race, you are not one, you are a whole. This is a two mile run, you have eighteen minutes to complete the race, as a team. A fell run across the top of the sand dunes, finishing with a sprint back across the beach.’ The group had been massively depleted, down to five in Team Red and seven in Team Blue. We all set off at a good pace, following the red markers through the sand dunes, across the top of the beach. Running up and down the paths, once used by holiday makers, carrying their buckets and spades, through the long grass. As we ran, I spoke to Cox about what Captain Jones had said, that we are one team now. He agreed we should finish together, and we would have to push every recruit to the finish line. Hassan was already around thirty yards behind the main pack, I told Cox to wait at the halfway point, and I dropped back to help him. We were all completely wrecked, cold and hungry. I told Hassan this would be the final task, although I didn’t really know, I just wanted him to have something to aim for. Sweat was pouring off his face, and he didn’t look well, but he was determined to finish, which impressed me. At the halfway point, we met the others and had a couple of minutes rest, before setting off across the beach. We ran together, linking arms, helping each other, pushing each other. We crossed the line as one, exhausted, and desperately in need of some food and water. I had no idea if we had finished within the eighteen minute time frame, but I doubt it. We were loaded back into the vehicles, and headed back to the camp. As we drove past the hotel, I had a look where Lauren would stand for a smoke, but she wasn’t there. We pulled up outside the parade ground, and left the vehicles, some heading to the medical tent, some to their own. Outside each tent, was a large army rucksack, with a L85A2 - Carbine Rifle leaning against it. Inside the bag was a change of clothes, a sleeping bag, first aid kit, a bottle of water and knife. Bernard turned up with my diary, and had a chuckle at the state we were all in. ‘So they’re not going easy on you’ he laughed.
‘It doesn’t look like it’ replied Hassan, struggling to get his boots off. After thirty or so minutes, Captain Jones arrived, as the other recruits joined us from the medical tent. With him was Lieutenant Higginson and Second Lieutenant Jackson. ‘Line up men’ shouted Captain Jones, as the recruits climbed up from their places, trying to get their aching limbs working again. ‘We are to move out in five minutes, a ten mile walk before camping down for the night.’
‘This is bullshit’ shouted one recruit, to the obvious shock of everyone else. ‘I’m not doing this anymore, what’s the fucking point? We’re not real recruits, it’s ridiculous.’
‘Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? Captain Jones retorted, as the man left the line, and started to walk towards the hotel. ‘Ring the loser bell, and you can fuck off.’
‘I’m not ringing any bell’ he said, continuing to walk. Lieutenant Higginson and Second Lieutenant Jackson followed, aiming their guns at him as Captain Jones spoke. ‘You will ring the bell, or you’ll find yourself in prison. This is the army, not a fucking kindergarten. You must think we are a set of slack jawed fuck wits, get back over here and ring the bell, then you can fuck off.’
The man nervously turned around, and walked back towards us, with rifles still trained on him. He moved to the bell, gave it a ring, and continued on towards the hotel. ‘Right’ shouted Captain Jones, ‘Do anymore of you pieces of shit want to quit? Or can we get on with the next task?’
With no response, he ordered us to collect our belongings, and form a line behind him. It was just after six pm, and a ten mile walk carrying all our stuff would take a good three to four hours. Which means we wouldn’t be settling down any time before ten, which was disheartening to say the least. ‘Your carbine rifle is now an extension of you, sleep with it, eat with it, I don’t want to see you without it. Let’s get moving’ said Captain Jones, as the last recruit took his place at the back of the line. We set off at a brisk pace, a speed most recruits were struggling to keep to, after their days excursions. It seemed strange to me that Captain Jones was taking part in this ten mile walk, he hadn’t been involved in any of the previous exercises, and had left everything physical to his younger lieutenants. And sure enough, after we had walked for about a mile, following the beach away from the centre of Blackpool, Captain Jones stopped us at a grassy opening, where a makeshift camp had been set up. ‘At ease men, this is where we are going to camp down for the night.’
‘There was a little silent rejoicing among the recruits, when they realised they weren’t about to walk a further nine miles. ‘You have shown me the commitment I wanted’ continued Captain Jones. ‘After such a challenging day, to then be told you are walking a further ten miles, tired, hungry, many of you in pain. You still gave me your commitment to walk ten miles, and for that I am impressed with each one of you. Here is where we will sleep, just in your sleeping bags.’
‘Will there be any food?’ Adrian asked, a question all the men were wondering.
‘No, you have a bottle of water, that is your lot for today. Dismissed.’
As most men unpacked, got into their sleeping bags and settled down, I got out my diary to fill in the days events.
30/11/2027 - Time 10:20
We managed to get around seven hours sleep before the soldiers woke us yesterday morning, it did us good but we were still tired. Add to that, a mixture of injuries and aches and pains, I think most recruits were coming to the end of what they could tolerate. They ordered us to pack our belongings, ready for off in five minutes. When I saw Hassan, crawling out of his sleeping bag, I was taken aback by how much weight he had lost, although he didn’t look happy about it. ‘I’m not sure I can take another day of this’ he said, as he finished putting his rucksack together. He stood up, and slung his rifle over his shoulder, before following me to line up with the rest of the recruits. He certainly wasn’t his jolly self, that Hassan has long since departed, no one was cracking jokes to be fair, everyone carried the look of misery as we listened to Captain
Jones. ‘Morning recruits, I trust you had a good sleep, today’s going to be just as hard a day as yesterday. We move out in five minutes to our first exercise, are there any questions?’
‘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.’
Aftermath: The complete collection Page 32
