compromised harbour position, some of us realised that in the confusion a few blokes had left items lying on the ground, like sleeping bags and webbing, which contained important items like ammunition and water. Unfortunately, no-one saw the rifle that was left behind by a stunned recruit.
We all suffered immensely for the next four hours. They made us sprint up and down hills with packs on and packs off; we leopard crawled everywhere once again with packs on and packs off; we practised fire and movement, packs on, packs off; all pretty hard for the lad who didnât have a weapon.
It was light when that punishment finished and they ran us back to our âcompromised harbour positionâ to look for items left behind. The lad without the rifle was in a state of panic. We searched the area for a good 20 minutes. We found tent pegs, a roll mat (a thin foam sleeping mat used to insulate you from the ground), a poncho, and other small items, but no SA80.
The training team moved us from that area to a gravel track and lined us up along it. They knew who this poor bugger was but gave him the opportunity to confess to the crime, which he did. He had no choice; he was the only one standing there with hands empty. I canât remember what they said to this bloke but it scared the shit out of me; my rifle was one item I was never going to forget. His punishment wasnât over; he was told to sprint back to the harbour position and collect the Elson.
The Elson is a steel toilet. It has a half decent toilet seat but the inside is really nothing more than a steel bucket. Every troop takes one onto Woodbury Common. You have toâa new recruit troop is inducted into the marines every two to four weeks, so if the Elson isnât used then you can imagine just how much human waste would be covering the common.
He returned minutes later with the steel dunny. The DS got him to hold it above his head while dressing him down once again. The poor bloke then dropped it, which spilled its contents onto the gravel. He panicked and in a flash dropped to his knees and began to scoop the shit and sweet corn back into the steel bucket. The training team were stunned! We were all stunned. They stopped him and told him to take the dunny to an admin area and wash his hands. This bloke did stay on with the troop and to his credit marched out with the rest of us at the end of training.
We continued to get punished for various infringements throughout the day and were all glad to hear that we were to speed march back to Lympstone once the field stores had been packed up and put on the Bedford 4-tonne trucks. Speed march is a run/walk activity based on a 10 minute per mile pace designed to get soldiers from A to B carrying equipment with a sense of urgency but without injury or totally flogging themselves and unable to fight at the end. The shortest distance back was 4 miles (6.4 kilometres) but we hardly ever took that route. At that moment we didnât care how far it wasâwe were heading home!
Unfortunately we didnât anticipate just how physically knackered we were; none of us had been pushed this hard before. This resulted in us dragging our feet on the speed march back, probably delaying the training team from getting home at a reasonable hour. The troop sergeant took offence at our sluggishness and when we reached base marched us straight down to the mudflats of the River Exe. Once lined out on the edge of the mud flats in full combat uniform, belt webbing, weapon and helmet, we began to leopard crawl through the mud towards the outgoing tide 20 metres away. It was quite a struggle battling through the gluey mud. It stank too.
When we reached the watermark we were told to conduct a series of low-profile movements until we were chest deep in the freezing murky water of the estuary. We were then to hold our breath and submerge ourselves underwater for the count of 10, which was very difficult due to the freezing water. If
We all suffered immensely for the next four hours. They made us sprint up and down hills with packs on and packs off; we leopard crawled everywhere once again with packs on and packs off; we practised fire and movement, packs on, packs off; all pretty hard for the lad who didnât have a weapon.
It was light when that punishment finished and they ran us back to our âcompromised harbour positionâ to look for items left behind. The lad without the rifle was in a state of panic. We searched the area for a good 20 minutes. We found tent pegs, a roll mat (a thin foam sleeping mat used to insulate you from the ground), a poncho, and other small items, but no SA80.
The training team moved us from that area to a gravel track and lined us up along it. They knew who this poor bugger was but gave him the opportunity to confess to the crime, which he did. He had no choice; he was the only one standing there with hands empty. I canât remember what they said to this bloke but it scared the shit out of me; my rifle was one item I was never going to forget. His punishment wasnât over; he was told to sprint back to the harbour position and collect the Elson.
The Elson is a steel toilet. It has a half decent toilet seat but the inside is really nothing more than a steel bucket. Every troop takes one onto Woodbury Common. You have toâa new recruit troop is inducted into the marines every two to four weeks, so if the Elson isnât used then you can imagine just how much human waste would be covering the common.
He returned minutes later with the steel dunny. The DS got him to hold it above his head while dressing him down once again. The poor bloke then dropped it, which spilled its contents onto the gravel. He panicked and in a flash dropped to his knees and began to scoop the shit and sweet corn back into the steel bucket. The training team were stunned! We were all stunned. They stopped him and told him to take the dunny to an admin area and wash his hands. This bloke did stay on with the troop and to his credit marched out with the rest of us at the end of training.
We continued to get punished for various infringements throughout the day and were all glad to hear that we were to speed march back to Lympstone once the field stores had been packed up and put on the Bedford 4-tonne trucks. Speed march is a run/walk activity based on a 10 minute per mile pace designed to get soldiers from A to B carrying equipment with a sense of urgency but without injury or totally flogging themselves and unable to fight at the end. The shortest distance back was 4 miles (6.4 kilometres) but we hardly ever took that route. At that moment we didnât care how far it wasâwe were heading home!
Unfortunately we didnât anticipate just how physically knackered we were; none of us had been pushed this hard before. This resulted in us dragging our feet on the speed march back, probably delaying the training team from getting home at a reasonable hour. The troop sergeant took offence at our sluggishness and when we reached base marched us straight down to the mudflats of the River Exe. Once lined out on the edge of the mud flats in full combat uniform, belt webbing, weapon and helmet, we began to leopard crawl through the mud towards the outgoing tide 20 metres away. It was quite a struggle battling through the gluey mud. It stank too.
When we reached the watermark we were told to conduct a series of low-profile movements until we were chest deep in the freezing murky water of the estuary. We were then to hold our breath and submerge ourselves underwater for the count of 10, which was very difficult due to the freezing water. If
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