Page 104 - Mercian Eagle 2013

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Walter Mitty ‘Civi’ to Infanteer – ‘in a Year’ By Pte Hindley
As a young man I always dreamed of being a frontline soldier, serving for my Queen and Country and being part of a successful team of professionals that thrive in the face of adversity. My quest for the dream started after filling in several forms at the TAC
in Mansfield and meeting CSM Simcox, who goes out of his way to make time for you and makes you feel important as an individual.
My first physical test came after marching up to a dimly lit park in Mansfield on a cold Febuary evening in two ranks with six other potential new recruits. The nervous tension was intense as we were all about to put our physical robustness to the test against each other. After jumping over several dogs, and avoiding the plume of continental tobacco smoke drifting across the course from the skate park, we still smashed out our run in 9 and a half mins. The feeling of euphoria and fulfilment was immense, I knew this was it, the dream could still become a reality and some of the constraints of civilian life could be broken.
But would I fit in? Would I be able to cope with the military way of life? Could I cut the mustard? I had all of these questions, would six weekends in Grantham provide me
with any answers. To be honest with you I was expecting a sugar coated course, soft enough to break in delicate civilians into the a style of military life, but when WO2 King of Arnhem Platoon had men running around port-a-cabins with their weapons held high above their heads shouting ‘I must not leave my weapon unattended and it must be at arms length at all times’, I knew then that this was the real deal. Whilst having excellent realism, the six weekends were also very informative and engaging, with many of the instructors leaving a lasting impression.
massive culture shock and responsibility for someone who’s only previous dependability on a Saturday was ordering the right curry from the local Indian whilst cozying up to X-Factor on the box. As the weekends progressed I was gradually finding it more difficult to adjust back to civi life and my nine to five routine without being influenced by the military, in one sense or another, I was becoming a soldier. Four weekends
at Swynnerton were next on the agenda, which turned into ten weekends, due to my employer believing the cogs of industry would cease to turn if I had taken two weeks off before August to attend my CIC. Swynnerton steeped in history as an old ammunitions dump during WWII and for more cloak and dagger reasons during the cold war. It is a great training ground to shake off the pink and fluffy, predominantly class room based lessons of Grantham.
Sgt Marshall, a very direct man with a very strong character, a dry sense of humour whose one liners and facial expression had me wanting to burst out in a smile and a little laughter, but I refrained out of respect, he was another great instructor. We managed to share stories and a pint after the course finished and had a great laugh, when it was appropriate.
The assault course took 1.5 hours to
run through the safety brief, all the while we kept warm by jogging on the spot,
then the fun began. Before we could
race the other two sections we did a high intensity warm up, tasting the odd spot of sheep excrement whilst hitting the deck and crawling to the announcement’s of ‘grenade’. We raced and smashed the other two sections, with the defining moment of the pursuit being over the
12 ft wall. We managed to get the section over in less than a minute to secure the victory. This was great sense of fulfilment and achievement, a test of pure physical prowess and mental courage.
For our two days in the field we used a favourite military saying ‘If it’s not raining , you’re not training’ quite often. The weather didn’t seem to be an issue as there was an air of excitement around the harbour area as we got our heads down for a few hours at 14.00 before the brief on the ‘night recce’ and for the second night ‘the ambush’. Both training sessions had us working untill 0200 before stand to at 0400 with 30mins stagging on period inbetween, but again the sleep deprivation didn’t seem to matter as the surge of adrenaline, coursing through our veins from the realism in practice, was fantastically stimulating and we were all
lit by the electric atmosphere. This was the real deal, we were being moulded into infanteers.
Being a big bloke at 6'2 and 16.7 stone, nick named ‘Tiny’ which stuck for the entire fortnight, I wasn’t the fastest man on the course at 9.15 mins for the risk reduction
You will always hear horror stories about
the food, but apart
from the strange waffle shaped crisps used to decorate some of the meat dishes, it was spot on. Lets face it when the platoon are hiding extra protein portions
Lets face it when the platoon are hiding extra protein portions of sausage and bacon under spoonfuls of scrambled eggs and mushrooms, that says it all.
Weekends consisted of Live firing with background lessons of BCDT and BLS, pairs fire and manoeuvre, with a fully loaded six mile TAB every Sunday morning to blow of the some of the cobwebs. These weekends and the instructors refined me as a potential solider and supported me with kit, weapon cleaning
of sausage and bacon
under spoonfuls of
scrambled eggs and
mushrooms, that says
it all. You don’t get long to eat your meals, but you needed to shovel down those calories to be able to keep up with the extreme pace of the course.
and just generally good advice which prepared me for the biggest test of them all, 14 days and nights on CIC in Catterick.
Every muscle ached, every bone in my body was sore, I loved every minute and absorbed every hour. For our first night
in the field we patrolled out five miles fully loaded at 15 min mile pace with helmets
on in staggered formation sweating our arse’s off. I was the last man in on the snap ambush only to be told I was 2IC. This was the first time I had personal contact with
My first taste of real soldiering came
from a night spent in the field during the cold winter months of December, another great set of lessons delivered by the training team, but the night saw the temperature drop to – 10, a glorious evening for spotting shooting stars whilst stagging on but for staying warm, it was hideous!! This was a
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