Gas Gas Gas, Guns Guns Guns.

So that's week two over, and  it has been a flurry of activity, not unpleasant but crazily busy.  The week has been largely focused on next weeks exercise and as such we've been learning lots about defencive operations and planning, writing orders and struggling to get all the bits and bobs we will need prepared.

We've also continued to be bombarded by CBRN stuff, and can now successfully not only put our gear on in an emergency, but eat drink and various other bodily function in our clumsy suits.  This culminated with a trip to the Respirator Testing Facility (Gas Chamber).  Perversely we were all rather disappointed when everyones respirator did indeed work and we carried out all our drills successfully, and no one really came out with anything more severe than a runny nose. It wasn't quite the streaming eyes and dribbling we wanted for the photos!


We've also had a day on the ranges, where fingers crossed my usually inept shooting has taken a turn for the better and i did rather well, which is making me resent my rifle perhaps that little bit less.  Lets see if that lasts the entirety of next week when the deceptively heavy bastard has to be within 1m of me 24 hours a day.  A few good circuit sessions in the gym and a predictably hilarious return to the drill square after a month off and the week has been complete.

We are left now with the simple matter of Exercise First Encounter to deal with.  At least 48 hours of solid digging to start, followed by running engagements with this time Company strength (90+) Gurkhas who are happy to use chemical attacks doesn't exactly sound like fun. Our hope is that the surreal nature of digging a massive hole while having not slept for days on end, all the while dressed like an extra from Alien will keep us going.  Its those times when the fact that as a group we are all i'm sure truly insane, and can be entertained for hours on end by singing crap pop hits, or discussing whether it would be better to have a sausage for a nose or a eyelashes made of charcoal, really makes the difference between imploding in a puddle of self pitying civilian, or standing up and being counted even when every inch of you wants to stop digging take off your body armour, throw your rifle in a puddle and go to the pub.

It will  no doubt be breathtakingly tiring and sore and sweaty, but it is my real hope that it will also at stages be fun, and when we finally sit in our complete trenches the sense of achievement should be great. My gardening gloves are primed and my snickers pouch is full , and my next post here will tell if i survived 'Worst Encounter'.