A/N -- My god, there are far too many acronyms and too much lingo used by the Royal Marines. I'm just going to stick to standard language most of time! Other than that, while I can find overviews of what the training procedure is (such as the name of each exercise a recruit and young officer will complete), trying to find in-depth analysis is difficult, and I'll be honest, I don't want to write complete bullshit, nor do I want to write just a drab, dry re-telling of said training, so some of it is rather vague.
It's after this chapter where it will delve into the world of fiction for story purposes.
To answer one comment from the last chapter about their relationship, I've purposely left Hannah as a FWB, the pair agreeing to keep it casual due to distance and time apart. Whether that changes or not depends on circumstances and how the story develops from here. I don't want to say too much and spoiler anything.
*****
I had returned to CTCRM after Easter ready to get back into the groove. The first couple of months had basically been an introduction. An eye-opening introduction, but that's all it really was. Why it was called 'Foundation'. I was now part of the way to being a Royal Marine. Some of the rough edges had already been smoothed out. Things like drill / marching was already second nature, as was housekeeping, neatness, timekeeping. Stuff that seems so simple but, to a Royal Marine, just like everything else, had to be perfect in its detail.
I'd learned handling a weapon. Map reading. Day and night navigational skills. Kit husbandry and learning something so simple as packing my Bergan. Camouflage and concealment. Range firing. First Aid training. There had been more than one exercise, these taking place at least once a fortnight, putting to the test everything we'd learned so far.
The rest of the sixteen-week Phase One passed by in a blur after that. The training was continuous. To be honest, we were already all so fit, though it was physically demanding, our bodies adapted to it. Yes, we were still surviving on 4 to 6 hours sleep if we were lucky, but the body is a marvel and slowly adapts. That didn't mean we didn't nod off at the most inopportune moments, generally if we were in class. It was expected. An elbow in the ribs, a few smirks. "Asleep, Officer Cadet Smith?"
"Sir, no, sir. Resting my eyes, sir. Heard every word."
"Care to repeat what I was explaining, Officer Cadet?"
I had no response. If I said yes, he'd know I was a full of shit. If I said no, I'd cop shit. Thankfully, he stared for a few seconds, made sure he had my complete attention, before he continued on.
It was serious business, but humour was expected. Jokes were flying constantly when we were enjoying those few moments of peace between the next exercise. In addition, the four other officer candidates who I'd become friendly with, there were now 54 of us remaining from the 60 who had arrived. From what I'd been told, 1 in 3 recruits simply wouldn't make it to the pass out parade, 1 in 6 would resign. That's why leadership was important. It was expected that the five of us would motivate and lead the rest each and every day. That's how we proved to be worthy of that patch on our shoulders when we graduated.
One eye opened was the Chemical, Biological, Radioactive and Nuclear training. That's when many of us realised shit could get serious. There was no joking about when we were shown pictures of what a chemical attack would do to us if we were not adequately trained and prepared. We knew enemies out there had access to all manner of weapons that could give us and the civilian population a real problem. Learning how to put on a CBRN rig led a little laughter... until the CS gas was used. The effects of that was not funny at all. Another lecture followed as we now had just an inkling of what we might have to endure if the worst happened.
'Exercise Lost Tribe' was serious business but, in a way, almost relaxing, even dare I say it, fun. It was a day and night navigation exercise across Dartmoor. I would have loved to look around, take in the scenery, but there just wasn't time. Being an officer training, I was in charge of a squad, leading us across unfamiliar terrain, using all the skills I'd learned so far to ensure we made it to the end safely and end in time. That was followed by 'Exercise Eye Opener', and the name lived up to it. It was a longer time out in the field, same idea as 'Lost Tribe', spending two days and nights out in the field. That's where our training in simple things like wet/dry rotation came to the forefront.
We quickly became experts at handling a weapon and marksmanship was obviously an important feature of becoming a Royal Marines Commando. Accuracy was all important. There was live firing exercises at least once every couple of days as there was a minimum standard expected, but we were obviously expected to be far superior to the minimum. Not to too my own horn, but while my standard was the same as everyone else, I was soon amongst the highest scorers when it came to target practice and living firing drills. Before the end of Phase One, we took part in the Annual Combat Marksmanship Test (ACMT).
I did well. Better than most. Not the best, but far above average. It just pushed me on to do even better next time.
Before the end of Phase One, the five young officers, including myself, faced a map reading exam, which thankfully I aced. There were also visits to Dartmouth Naval College for a week of military studies. That was perhaps our first real taste of what being an officer was about. Learned about the history of naval warfare, Britain's role as a sea-power in the past and the modern day, and the navies role looking into the future. Phase One then ended with 'Exercise Baptist Run'. This has to be passed to be moved on to Phase Two. Any recruit who failed to pass would be back-trooped to try again though with a different Troop.
The 'Baptist Run' was preceded by the 'Baptist Walk', which was an introduction to what we'd face. We were now used to heading out in full kit with weapon, and the Walk consisted of all we'd learned. Map stances, stalks, fire control orders, target indication, observation and navigation.
The day after we arrived back, we got to throw live grenades for the first time.
Our Troops 'Baptist Run' went better than the 'Baptist Walk'. That was the whole point, as week 14 had been preparation for week 15. It felt like a full week out in the field as there was the preparation, time out in the field, and then the inspection at the end, using all the skills we'd used so far. We were put to the test. Failure was not an option. No-one wanted to be back-trooped to go through it all again, though we'd been told that usually a third of recruits would not pass Phase One the first time. And being a Young Officer in training, the expectations on my shoulders were even higher than the regular recruits.
I like to think I thrived under the pressure. Slowly but surely, I'd found confidence in taking the lead. Monday, we loaded up the vehicles that would take us to Woodbury Common, before we were given time to purchase things we would need for our kit. Tuesday morning, we lay a kit muster in the drill shed before we were on a 4-mile speed march carrying 21 pounds plus our weapon. This was just one test of many that made up the 'Baptist Run'. Tuesday and Wednesday was the same as the 'Baptist Walk', but this time, we were being scored and assessed. There was a minimum score required to pass.
Wednesday morning, very early morning, we were put through the wet/dry route, before a field kit muster at first light. That's where a few scores would have been docked. The end of the 'Baptist Run' was an 8-mile load carry of 50 pounds back to CTCRM, but there was no rest upon the return, as we immediately sat down for a couple of tests, taxing our mental strength in addition to our physical endurance. Phase One ended on Thursday morning with the final full kit inspection.
Of the 54 of us that made it to the 'Baptist Run', 38 of us passed to start Phase Two.
And that is when officer training began in earnest. The first 16 weeks was about turning me from a civilian into a soldier. Officer training took place in five phases. Phase Two was tactics and doctrine training, basically using what I'd learned to prepare, deliver and receive orders, with a mixture of regular and officer specific exercises over the course of twelve weeks.
Firing drills changed from the range to live field firing, two 'Quickdraw' exercises that put my leadership skills to the test as I was lead a squad of soldiers through manoeuvres and close quarter battle. It wasn't just about firing a rifle. Marines used artillery and we were instructed into how we would work in conjunction with other field units.
I'll admit it was during Phase Two that we truly started to feel like potential Royal Marines Young Officers. 'Exercise Early Bird' at Okehampton was all about issuing orders, directing troop movements and attacks, and conducting vehicle anti-ambush drills. A visit to a Commando Unit was a real opener, receiving lectures and observing fully-fledged Royal Marines go about their business. Every single man was impressive. Our troops returned to CTC determined to join their ranks. There were helicopter and underwater escape drills, a visit to a Royal Marines facilities in Poole, where we were introduced to the amphibious nature of being a Royal Marine, taking part in boat drills over a number of days in both day and night-time scenarios.
'Exercise Dragon Storm'... It was 'only'... ha, only... but it was only a test exercise, taking place in the sodden hills of the Welsh countryside. Apparently it was in summer, could have fooled us, considering the drizzle and fog that surrounded us. It was damp, overcast, miserable, though we were so used to being outside in shit weather, we barely noticed. All that mattered was keeping our kit dry and each other motivated. It was the hardest test I'd faced so far. I was now determined to see it through the entire way. I wasn't going to hand in my chit. The only reason I would fail is if they thought I wasn't good enough. If that was the case, I'd take it on the chin.
Through all the above, through Phases One and Two, I kept in touch with Hannah and the family, Hannah and family in the UK by text, the family back in Australia by email. After Easter, I simply hadn't had the time to head north again. Training after Easter was literally a twenty-four-seven operation. Yes, we did have spare time occasionally, a half-day from time to time, but even that was time for us to study for exams, read over what we'd learned...
The first time I really had a chance to call Hannah was after end the of Phase Two, with at least a day of rest before starting Phase Three. I called her up on Sunday evening.
"Hello, Nate."
