Mil skills competition
It starts with an inspection of us and our camp. I am elected to keep the three camp fires lit and fuelled, including the cooking fire which is to have a pot of water on the boil. The rest of the platoon has marched to another location to be inspected. Despite having been out in the field for over a week we must have our combat fatigues clean, boots black, not muddy, and rifles have to be impeccable.
Whilst they’re away getting inspected I ensure that all the hoochies are tidy and I raid as many rucksacks as I can to get bottles of mosquito repellent to spray on the fires to keep them burning, because I’m finding that keeping three fires burning bright at the same time (and the water on the boil) is a bit more difficult than anticipated, especially since I have no idea when they’re going to come to our platoon camp to inspect it. They finally come and inspect the camp. They’re impressed with the unfeasibly bright fires but they mark us down for camp tidiness. (they’re always going to make a point of finding something wrong).
The rest of the lads come back from their inspection and we’re instructed to pull pole. That means we break camp and pack everything away loading everything on the 2 ½ ton trucks. Each of us just has our combats, steel helmets, webbing with water bottle, bayonet, sash-cord, three 20-round magazines and of course our rifle. We’ve learned to treat our rifles well at all times. One speck of dirt in the barrel attracts a barrage of abuse from the DS (Directing Staff).
Our rifle is the FN C1 A1. It’s made in Belgium by Fabrique Nationale. It’s an accurate, semi-automatic weapon but heavy with a wooden stock and comes with a 20-round magazine and fires a 7.62 mm round. Our rifles will be put to good use on this day because the final part of the competition takes place on the range where every shot contributes to our platoon’s total score. Before that, though we have a gruelling race against the other 15 platoons.
We’re given our orders and we set out. Because we just have webbing and rifles and no rucksacks, we can make good time by heading everywhere in double-time (i.e. running). All the kit hanging off our webbing bounces around uncomfortably, however, and we each use our sash-cords to tie everything down including our helmets which we tie to out stomachs paratrooper-style. We’re able to run quicker this way although we can only really run as fast as the slowest member of the platoon… and Brinley’s already suffering. He starts shedding first his kit amongst us and then finally his rifle gets passed around so that he can run unencumbered. It works for a while and we manage to make good time until we get to our first big obstacle. We have a river to cross and all our kit has to remain dry (especially the rifles).
The rope-bridge takes us about 45 minutes to get fully up and running and then it takes us about another 20 minutes to get everyone across. Then it’s on the run again.
Chilliwack, British Columbia is a smallish base dedicated almost solely to providing basic training (boot camp) for young men and women aspiring to be officers in the Canadian Forces. It’s nestled in a picturesque valley in the Canadian Rockies. The surrounding scenery is stunning because of all the BLOODY MOUNTAINS! And today we have to run up Cheam Mountain to set up a radio post and take further instructions from there. Brinley is really suffering now, despite having distributed his kit and rifle around. We decide that, in the interest of finishing with a decent time, we will leave Brinley to find his own way at his own pace to where we think we may be headed after the radio post. We leave him in a ditch to cool down and then make his own way in the general direction of the rifle ranges about three miles away. He has to do this without being detected, otherwise the blag is blown and our platoon will almost certainly be docked points. This could prove to be quite difficult because there are military vehicles rolling along these dusty dirt roads quite frequently. Meanwhile we still have all his kit and rifle. With any luck we’ll find Brinley on our way to the ranges after coming back down the mountain.
Our progress up the mountain appears slow to us with the realization that we are against the clock because our times and scores will be tallied up and compared with the other platoons. Each of us is experiencing the pain of running up the steep dirt road to where we have to set up the radio post. Eventually we get to the place and we quickly set up the post and radio in for our next instructions. Most of us are flat on our backs taking on water and eating rations which have been left for us.
Our instructions – take an arduous route back down the mountain and get to a certain range where we will be given further instructions. We also have to be prepared for possible ambushes by enemy forces. Oh, that’s just great! So do we go all tactical and pick our way quietly and take loads of time getting to the range, or do we just go for it and hope for the best?
We go for it! Now we’re up and running back down the mountain. Most of us have blisters on our feet but we keep going as fast as we can because we want to knock the stuffing out of all the other platoons. I find myself entering a semi-conscious state as we hit the flatter valley road. It seems like an eternity as we continue to jog along the road, each of us taking turns carrying some of the extra kit and rifle.
The heat is stifling and the dust dries out the back of my throat as we continue on jogging down the gravel road. There’s an open field on the left beyond a deep ditch and woods along the right. The bright sunlight makes the woods impossible to see into but I’m in my own world anyway when all hell breaks loose! The roar of explosions and small arms fire at close proximity causes an involuntary leap from all of us into the ditch on the side of the road. I’m upside-down in the ditch, pinned down by my own kit and the weight of someone else (and their kit) lying on my chest. The ‘enemy forces’ are still firing and throwing thunder-flashes at us to simulate an ambush and we all have a sense of having been well and truly had… (to be continued)
