Page 11 - The Wish Stream Year of 2020 Crest

The question is: How do a load of Sandhurst OCdts, over one 36(ish)-hour period, go from enthusiastic, full of energy and gener- ally well-motivated individuals, to wet, sore and generally ‘fragged’ – all while somehow man- aging to maintain morale? The answer is: send them on a 75+km route around a bog. To some, this area is somewhere to enjoy a casual stroll with the family poodle; to others, it is the loca- tion of misery, navigational embarrassment and the oddest microclimate in Britain – welcome to Dartmoor!
1 Section started strongly with enthusiasm and grace, optimistic that the task ahead would be achievable – after all, they had spent countless hours over the last week on possibly one of the most in-depth navigation plans ever to grace a route card. Checkpoint 8 was reached much faster than expected, and our first command task was completed in a similar fashion.
Unfortunately, this swift start was to be short- lived... Cue the onset of navigational embar- rassment as we headed on the long trek to CP1 via the first of our unmanned CPs. This is where we were first exposed to the joy that are ‘baby heads’ (small tufts of grass that are impossible to avoid and make for some very sore ankles), and a certain patrol member started to make a name for themselves by continually falling over at every opportunity. This continued and provided some morale for everyone as we slowly ticked off the kilometres. The most memorable fall by far was when said patrol member identified a trip hazard to the rest of us but nonetheless decided to walk straight into it and again resemble an upturned turtle!
As we walked into the night, we all looked for ways to keep our energy levels, and more importantly our morale, high. Unfortunately for one of our colleagues, his energy supplement of choice, and the quantity consumed, did not go down well. It would appear it also did not taste very good on the way back up. In fact, the energy expended by continuous vomiting for multiple hours almost certainly had an adverse effect. However, some serious strength of char- acter was seen when he pressed on regardless and continued to play his part in motivating the group.
By mid-morning (now 20 hours in) we were well behind schedule and heading into the micro- navigation box – an area where misery was truly compiled in spectacular fashion. I believe there is always something to be gained by a situation becoming so dismal that it becomes comical: if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry! As we broke cover from a quick rest stop behind a building, I made the call that Gore-Tex jackets were to be worn but trousers weren’t needed. How wrong I was when little more than 200m from the building, the drizzle turned into the hardest rain and hail shower ever to be experienced, and with com- pletely drenched legs we pressed on across open ground towards the third of 5 marker posts. This was reached in a timely fashion but, as we took our next bearing, an odd beeping sound filled the air. After 10 minutes of not quite knowing where it was coming from, we suddenly realised – EXTRAC! Quickly the device was fumbled out of a Bergan, and a message was read out: “The Micronavigation Box is now closed – head to the nearest manned CP”. To our dismay, the nearest CP was CP2 – 8km away, on a route that would scale not one, but two steep hills across dense marshland. Despite the daunting task ahead, 1 Section ploughed on, driven by sing-a-longs and the promise of hot scoff. At 1730hrs, now 26 hours into the exercise, we made it to CP2. Boots off, food on, heads down.
The wake-up from the forced rest was slow but people generally felt well-rested considering the limited amount of time spent in the appropriately nicknamed ‘big green time machine’. We knew now came the final push, and the thought of a warm coach and a three-hour drive back to RMAS was all that was needed to spur us on towards the finish. Our pace was, at best, slow, and aches and pains were showing amongst the group.
By the time we made it to the final checkpoint, the decision had been made to collect all remain- ing callsigns from the area and the TCVs waiting at CP6 appeared like an oasis in the desert.
If Type 1 fun is fun at the time, and Type 2 is fun after the fact, Long Reach was thoroughly Type 3. Not fun at the time, and only questionably enjoyable upon completion. However, the sleep on the coach on the way back was so good it made it all worth it.
Exercise LONG REACH
SANDHURST 9