 
### The Army Chronicles

### Book 2

### Phase Two

By

CR Delport

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

CR Delport at Smashwords

### Phase Two

Copyright © 2013 by CR Delport

### Cover Art:

Jaco Moolman

### Foreword

From 1966 to 1994 it was compulsory for white South African males to do military service. As part of their military service, it was required to defend the country against any thread from both inside and outside of South African borders. This also led to the South African border war, which spanned from 1966 to 1989. Many young men gave their lives for their country, and many who returned from border duty were so traumatized, they were unable to talk about what they experienced. Even to this day, it is impossible for most of those who served in the military and doing border duty, to share with their friends and families as to what they experienced.

These books are my attempt to take the reader on a journey to give an insight of what these young men experienced. From basics, all through their service, and then border duty, or in some cases, the bush war in Angola. Although the characters in this book are fictional, most places and events that follow are not, and are based on what really happened. There were many different military units, but our story focuses on 1 South African Infantry Battalion, and our characters' subsequent deployment to 61 Mechanized Battalion. They started their National Service as boys, but finished as men.

This is book two in the series and the events follow where book one ended.

### Chapter 1

It was a cloudy day and the occasional rain shower made it wet enough to be miserable. The cool autumn air stung my face as I lifted my balsak from the boot of my mother's silver Audi. My father, who sees himself as a self proclaimed weather guru, reckoned it would be a cold winter, and that didn't bode well for me or my friends from 1 South African Infantry Battalion. For once I prayed he would be wrong, as he proved more accurate in his predictions than most of the official weather people.

I sighed and dropped my bag filled with more army clothes at my feet. For a few minutes my hands had better things to hold than the army bag. I grabbed a hold of Charlotte's hand and smiled. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with her warm smile, and she squeezed my hand. We spent a memorable weekend together. Of course this left my parents fuming as they hardly laid eyes on me all weekend.

While I did basic military training, I didn't get a weekend pass till a few weeks before the end, which meant I wasn't home for almost three months. Charlotte and I had a misunderstanding before I reported for military duty, which we cleared up on my first weekend home. That led us to spending as much time as possible with each other. We had to make up for a lot of wasted time. My mother, although happy that we got back together, didn't like that she got so little of my time. But I was eighteen, and my hormones and I had other plans than to spend my precious time with family.

I bent down and kissed Charlotte's soft lips, but quickly lifted my head. My mother sounded like a cat that had a hairball stuck in its throat.

"Don't you two ever get enough of that?" she asked annoyed.

I looked at Charlotte and shook my head. Her crystal laugh rang out over the parking lot of the bus terminal at Johannesburg station. All over several young men in uniform said their goodbyes to their loved ones.

Two guys headed our way, walking proud in their brown army uniforms. The short, stocky built one on the left had mischievous blue eyes, with the tall skinny guy next to him covered in freckles.

"I see I don't even have to ask if you had a good weekend," George said.

Charlotte and I both blushed. I greeted my friends, glad to see them. After spending three months in their constant company, they were like family, and I missed them.

"Have you heard from Charlie?" Rex asked in his easy going manner.

I shook my head and pointed to an expensive looking vehicle that pulled into the parking lot.

"Speak off the devil," I said and pointed to the car.

The driver, dressed in a formal driver's uniform, jumped from car and ran around to open the door for his passenger, but the door flew open before he reached it. A small young boy dressed in an army uniform climbed out of the car.

He looked like he should rather be in school, but he was our age and our friend. Charles Middleton the third, but to us, he was our friend Charlie. George and Rex ran over to give Charlie a hand with his luggage, which always seemed too big for him. From the way he blushed, I could see that George and Rex made fun of him. It was all in good nature and Charlie would take it from the three of us, but won't be made fun of by anybody else. George, who was as strong as an ox, had built a mean reputation at our army base as someone not to be messed with, and he always looked out for little Charlie.

Soon it was time to say our last goodbyes and get on the bus that would transport us back to our base. I kissed Charlotte one last time, hugged my mother and stepped on the bus. Charlotte and my mother joined the horde of others waving to their loved ones, as the convoy of busses pull out of the station, and headed to Bloemfontein. We would spend most of our four hour trip back to the base, catching up on what we did over the weekend.

Charlie spent his time on his parents' horse farm just outside the city. His dad was a prominent figure in the South African horse racing community, and owned several race horses. Charlie aspired to become a jockey, and if it weren't for the fact that he had to do his two years' national service, he would have already been enrolled in the Jockey Academy. He had a great love for horses, and often shared stories about their horses.

"My dad bought a new horse, and called her Charlie's Girl. She's a two year old chestnut filly and runs like the wind," Charlie said with stars in his eyes.

We smiled at him, and George slapped him on the back.

"About time you get a girl friend."

Charlie snorted. "So what did you do this weekend Don Juan?"

George lifted his shoulders. "Did some bowling and helped my dad out at the garage."

George was an avid Ten Pin bowler, and contemplated going professional. His dad owned his own petrol station and believed George would be better off helping out at the garage, which led to a lot of friction between them.

"I actually got to spend a lot of time with my family, but we did nothing special," Rex said, and I detected a faint hint of sadness in his voice. Rex was from a poor family and his dad worked almost every weekend, so having his father home for a weekend was a great gift.

They all three looked at me and I asked innocently, "What?"

George growled like a hungry bear and said, "Don't give me that crap, you know very well what."

I smiled and said, "I spent most of the weekend with Charlotte."

Rex snorted. "Yes, I saw the thrilled expression on your mother's face."

A pang of guilt ran through me. I should have spent more time with my family, but oh boy, my hormones were going crazy.

"Well, the fun is over and it's time to get back to reality. What do you think will happen now that basics are over?" I asked, and the smiles disappeared from their faces.

We knew that our paths were due to split. Charlie would go to the gunners to further his military career as a Ratel gunner. George hoped to become a Ratel driver, while Rex and I were enrolled in the Section Leaders program. We would all still be on the same base, but was unsure of how much we would see of each other. Having spent the last three months in each other's company, sweating and bleeding together, we forged quite a tight friendship.

As we neared Bloemfontein, the bus got quiet. While we did basics, we always expected the worst when we returned to the base, and more often than not, we got it. But now that we were done, were unsure of what laid ahead of us. When the bus drove through the big black gates that marked the entrance to 1 South African Infantry Battalion, nobody said a word.

We hadn't been told otherwise, so we grabbed our gear and made it to our old bungalow. I stepped through the door and the familiar smell of the place welcomed me back. Our neatly made beds and the shining floor were just like we left it. I tossed my balsak on my bed and unlocked the steel cabinet that stood next to my bed.

"It almost feels like we never left," Charlie remarked.

The euphoria of the weekend quickly faded.

I was unsure if I should unpack and prepare for inspection in the morning, or wait for further instructions. We milled around when I heard a loud bang. Someone literally fell into the bungalow. A pair of innocent blue eyes on an even more innocent face stared at me, and then a smile lit up that face.

"Hey guys, you're back already," Frankie said and picked himself from the floor.

Frankie Thompson, our platoon's know-it-all who had a knack for getting himself into trouble, had arrived. Frankie, although a walking disaster, was a friendly guy, well liked by all in the platoon.

After he reached his bed and dumped his balsak on his bed, George asked, "Hey Frankie, any idea what we're suppose to do now?"

Frankie pulled up his shoulders and said, "Its Sunday, nothing happens on Sundays. I'm sure we'll find out tomorrow morning."

We look at each other, unsure of what to do the rest of the afternoon. We decided to check in on Frik, our other friend which was a chef in the kitchen. With nothing better to do, we reverted to our usual Sunday afternoon pastime, a game of poker. Most of the time we had Sunday afternoons to ourselves, so ever since we started basics, we had a Sunday afternoon poker game. It wasn't a high stakes game. We played with two cent coins, but it was a lot of fun, and we often attracted a crowd of on lookers.

By the time we went to bed, there was still no word from our corporal. I had a suspicion that it was only the lull before the storm, but I didn't know just how right I would be. Monday morning we got up, got dressed in our overalls and reported for breakfast. All seemed perfectly normal until we returned to our bungalow. Corporal Minnie waited for us, and the look on his face showed he meant business. He waited till we were all present.

With a slight smile on his face, he said, "Everyone who signed up for Section Leaders, get your battle gear and hiking bag. We're going for a little walk."

### Chapter 2

George and Charlie looked at Rex and me with sympathy. We strapped on our battle webbing and grabbed our hiking packs.

We received an encouraging slap on the back and they said, "Good luck."

We donned our battle helmets, grabbed our rifles, and rushed outside to join the others. We were instructed to make sure we pack our sleeping bags, PT clothes and extra socks.

"Ok, load them up," a corporal instructed and we piled into the waiting Samil trucks.

Once again, fear and uncertainty was noticeable on every face. There was no chatter, no jokes. Everyone stared straight ahead. The Samils left the base and headed out of the city.

When the trucks stopped on the lonely dirt road, the corporals were on hand.

"Get out, come on, move it! We don't have all fucking day!"

All the shouting had a new purpose, a new urgency. We were divided into sections, ten per section. Rex and I ended up in the same group, and as fate would have it, we ended with Corporal Minnie.

One of the corporals shouted at his section and a few moments later they set off down the dirt road. It was the start of our, "Vasbyt." I heard about the three day endurance walk, but nothing I heard comforted me, or made me look forward to what lay ahead the next three days.

I glanced up at the sky. Although the morning autumn air had a chill, the bright blue sky had not a single cloud. With the promise of a warm day, I regretted not filling up my extra two liter water bottle, or that I didn't take more provisions for the road. We just returned from pass, so were fully loaded on extra supplies. I looked around at the other people in my section, and apart from Rex, didn't know any of them. I recognized one guy from another platoon in Charlie Company, but didn't know his name. The other people were all from Alpha and Bravo Companies.

Before we had time to get acquainted, Corporal Minnie started shouting.

"Come on boys, saddle up. We have a long walk ahead of us. We better get going. Move your asses, we haven't got all day!"

We set off in single file, following a few hundred meters behind the section ahead. We walked long distances before, so I figured it won't be too bad. We fell into a steady rhythm and Hitler, as Corporal Minnie was fondly known, made sure we kept a brisk pace.

For an hour we walked in silence, or at least, we didn't talk. Hitler couldn't keep quiet. Every now and again he had the urge to hurl some obscenity at us to make us walk faster. We did the first thirty minutes, if he yelled, we walked faster. After a few minutes we would slow again, until he yelled once more. After a while we ignored the yelling, and kept to one steady pace.

About an hour after we started, Hitler shouted, "Hey you, Short Shit! How far have we walked since we started?"

We all looked around, because compared to Hitler's tall lanky frame that towered over us, we were all short. We quickly determined he referred to the short, slightly stocky guy in front of me.

"Eh, about ten kilometers?" the guy guessed.

"Ha! In your dreams!" Hitler yelled at him.

We continued to walk in silence. Next to the road were a line of telephone poles, spaced equal distances apart, forming a long line as far as I could see. When I got to the next pole, I started to count my steps. That way, I could figure out the distance between the poles. When I reached the next pole, my step count was at a hundred and five. I had a few stumbles, so I figured the poles were hundred meters apart. From there, instead of counting my steps, I only counted the poles.

As we approached the thirty sixth' pole, Hitler shouted again, "So how far have we walked since the last time I asked?"

I glanced at him. He asked the group in general so I answered, "About three comma six kilometers, Corporal."

Hitler looked at me in surprise.

"And how did you work that out, Wiseguy?"

I repositioned the heavy rifle in my arms and said, "I counted the telephone poles since you last asked, Corporal."

"Mmm," is all he said, but I saw the slight smile on his lips before he took a sip from his water bottle. The bottle was the only baggage the corporal carried.

After a three hour walk, we approached our first checkpoint. A water tanker, a Jeep, and a big plastic crate waited for us. Hitler turned to us with a sadistic smile on his face.

"Ok boys, see that crate? Anything that was not issued by the army goes in there!"

We just stood and looked at him with astonished faces when he shouted, "That means all sweets, cool drink, cigarettes and anything else you might be carrying. Toss it, and be quick. We haven't got all day."

I dropped my pack to the ground and opened it. I carried some extra provisions, a can of condensed milk, a few chocolate energy bars, and a few sachets of powdered energy drink to be mixed with water. I reluctantly dropped my loot into the crate.

One of the guys with us had a whole armful of sweets and cookies.

"Corporal, will we get this stuff back?" he asked.

Hitler smiled at him and said with a voice filled with pure syrup, "Sure, when we reach our destination, you'll get it back."

At that moment we knew that we would never see our stuff again. The corporals searched our packs to make sure we gave up all our provisions. Behind the tanker I saw a pile of silver cans. I tried to make out what it was and realized it was canned food, but all the labels were removed.

"Fill your water bottles and each take one tin from the pile over there," Hitler ordered.

I filled my bottle from the tanker, took a swallow and choked. The water tasted bitter, salty and had a faint smell of vinegar. I stared at the corporal looking for signs that they were trying to poison us, but they stood there, looking innocent. I grabbed Rex's arm before he filled his bottle.

"Don't, the water is doctored," I whispered under my breath.

His eyes widened and a frown formed on his brow. Anybody else might have thought I lied, but Rex knew and trusted me.

"Shit! The bastards," he whispered back.

Before I could say anything Hitler yelled "Move along, come on, we haven't got all day. We still have a long walk ahead."

Some of the other guys tasted the water and started to complain.

"If you don't want the water, pour it out!" The Sergeant at the check point shouted, which shut everybody up instantly. I walked over to the pile of cans, picked one, and hoped it wasn't carrots. I hated carrots.

Walking to the side and out of sight from the sergeant, I dumped the contents of my water bottle. Drinking from it would make me sick and I wanted to remove the temptation.

Rex tapped me on the shoulder.

"Here you go," he said and handed me his two liter bottle. My friend had the insight to fill his extra bottle before we left the base.

I smiled gratefully and used a little to rinse the salt and vinegar from my bottle. A trace of it remained, but the water was drinkable.

"Thank you," I said. In our three months in the army we had learned to watch out for each other.

Rex filled his own bottle and then we were ready to hit the road again. I swung my heavy pack onto my back, grabbed my rifle where it leaned against the tanker, and within moments we were on our way again.

Since our stop at the checkpoint, the attitude in the group changed. Shoulders slumped, the footfalls were heavy, resignation on the faces around me, and I imagine my face didn't look any better.

We continued our walk in silence, and after a while Hitler asked, "Dumont, how far did we walk since the checkpoint?"

Rex was in a foul mood.

When he answered, "Fucking far," it came as no surprise.

I expected the corporal to take action, but he only smiled. All the actions so far that day indicated they wanted to break our spirit, and they succeeded.

It was hot and sweat ran down my shirt. I was thirsty, but had to drink sparingly, unsure if and when we will get water again. I gazed up at the sky, praying for a rain shower, but there were only a few fluffy white clouds around, nothing that looked like rain. The walking became laboured and my body protested. The lack of water didn't help either. I felt every muscle in my body tighten, and feared cramp.

We started to stumble rather than walk, and the corporal kept shouting encouragement at us.

"Just a few kilometers more, there are hot showers, chalets and hamburgers waiting for you, just a few kilometers more," he said.

The guy behind me snorted and said, "Yeah, nice one corporal, but I'm not dumb enough to believe that."

Hitler grinned from ear to ear, and I knew, whatever waited for us, was not as pleasant as he wanted us to believe.

As we rounded a bend in the road, another tanker waited for us.

"Five minutes is all you get. Drink up and fill your bottles," the corporal ordered.

I dropped my pack to the ground, placed my rifle and battle helmet on top, and walked over to the tanker. I placed my hand under a tap, and let the water trickle into my hand. I sniffed it, and when I didn't smell anything, I took a taste. The lukewarm liquid tasted like water, with no additives. Nine other faces watched me anxiously.

"It's good," I said.

The others rushed forward and I drank as much as I could, then rinsed my bottle and refilled it. Once I attached it to my hip, I filled my spare. It added two extra kilograms to carry, but would be needed. I let some water in my hand and splashed it over my face. It felt heavenly, but before I could enjoy it, the corporal interrupted.

"No wasting Dempsey! Ok, time's up, let's go," he shouted.

Rex was last to fill his bottles and he barely made it. I swung the bag onto my back, strapped the battle helmet on, and then we were on the road again.

After the water stop, I felt refreshed, but it didn't last long. A few of the guys put their rifles on top of their packs to free their arms. I tried it for a while, but found the extra weight too uncomfortable, and continued to carry my weapon. It got to a point where I only concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. I stopped counting telephone poles somewhere between the two checkpoints and rather concentrated on my feet. If I stumbled over a rock, I am not sure I'd been able to get back to my feet.

Throughout the afternoon I followed the progress of the sun, and it reached a low point on the horizon, but we kept walking. I figured if Vasbyt was suppose to be ninety kilometers, it would be an even split, but I knew we walked a lot further than thirty kilometers that first day. It was probably more like fifty. Although used to the sun by then, my face still burnt.

It was nearly dark when we reached a small hillside. We caught up with the others and the corporal informed us we would spend the night there. We could eat whatever was in the can we took from the pile, and then get some sleep.

"What happened to the fucking Chalets, hot showers and hamburgers?" Rex growled.

I gave a short laugh and said, "You didn't honestly believe that shit?"

Rex shook his head and said, "No, but I live in hope."

The rugged hillside where we were supposed to sleep, offered no flat areas. I spread my sleeping bag on the flattest spot I could find, and made sure my feet pointed downwards. I didn't want to roll down the hill during the night.

I sat down and pulled my boots from my sore feet, and could almost hear them say, "Ah!"

I gave them a quick rub, and then fished the tin from my bag. I got my Swiss Army knife from my pocket to open the can.

Before I opened my can, Rex said, "Ah fuck, just my luck. Carrots!"

My heart sunk into my tummy, but my ass gnawed at my liver and I would have eaten anything. I opened my can and let out a sigh of relieve, it was peas.

"Shit," the guy next to me said, "I forgot my knife."

I leaned over and said, "Here, use mine."

He smiled and said, "Thanks. I'm Trevor by the way. Trevor Shaw."

I introduced Rex and me, and continued to wolf down the peas.

"Ugh, beetroot," Trevor said.

"I'll swap you for carrots," Rex said in hope.

Trevor thought for a moment as to which one of the evils were better, and decided on the carrots. Once I had something in my belly, I took a few sips of water, and crawled into my sleeping bag. I positioned my back pack as a pillow, and slid my boots and rifle inside the sleeping bag. I didn't want to find a crawly surprise in the morning in my shoes. With the first day done, I was still alive, so there was hope. I barely closed my eyes before I fell asleep.

### Chapter 3

When I opened my eyes it was pitch black. It took me a few moments to get my bearings, but my sore body quickly reminded me where I was. I had a vague recollection of waking up in the middle of the night, my face frozen by the cold air, so I stuck my head inside the sleeping bag and zipped it closed. With a jolt I realized that everyone could have left and I wouldn't know it, so I yanked the zip open and popped my head outside.

The cold morning air blasted me in the face, taking my breath away. Steam came from my mouth when I exhaled. It was still semi dark, but in the east the horizon changed colour as the new day approached. I looked around and saw bodies in sleeping bags scattered all over the hill. To the side, an army tent was pitched and provided sleeping quarters for the corporals. For a moment I considered zipping my sleeping bag and return to sleep, but I knew it wouldn't be long before the corporals shouted at us.

I fished a fresh pair of socks from my bag and inspected my sore feet. To my surprise, I had no blisters but they felt bruised. I got my boots on and found the nearest tree to do my morning business. Steam rose from the warm fluid that left my body. When I got back to my sleeping bag, the others started to stir. There was no movement from Rex, so I kicked where I hoped his feet would be.

"I'm up, I'm up," he said in a sleepy voice and sat up, still zipped in his sleeping bag.

"Oh fuck, I went blind," he said with panic in his voice.

I leaned over and unzipped his bag.

"Thanks," he said as he stretched and yawned, but then cut the yawn short.

"Damn, it's cold."

I rolled my sleeping bag, put it back in its covering, and fastened it to the backpack.

"Ah shit!" Rex moaned and I swung my head around.

He left his boots standing next to his sleeping bag, and they were frozen solid with the thick layer of morning frost that covered the hillside.

"How did you defrost your boots?" he asked.

I shook my head and said, "I didn't. I kept them inside my sleeping bag so they stayed nice and warm."

Rex looked at his boots with a foolish expression on his face. "What do I do now? I can't wait for the sun to warm them, and I can't wear them like this. I'll get frostbite."

"Make a fire to warm them up," I offered.

He looked at me and asked, "With what? Should I rub two stones together?"

Trevor dug in his pocket and tossed something over to Rex and said, "Here, use this. They took my smokes, but I managed to hide the lighter."

Rex caught the device, gave it a flick and watched the flame come to life.

"Thanks," he said and looked around for dried pieces of wood.

"I'm starving, do you think they'll give us breakfast, or are we suppose to hunt our own food?" Trevor asked.

I looked around and didn't see any sign of wild life, so that plan wouldn't work.

Twenty minutes later we received our answer. One of the corporals called us all together, and pointed to a few boxes that stood to the side.

"One of the things you need to learn is how to live on field rations. Now normally you would receive one ration pack per day, but due to cut-backs, we're running low on supplies. Your rations will have to last two days, or you'll go hungry."

We lined up and each received our ration pack, or rat pack as it was commonly known. I looked at the small rectangular box and wondered how on earth could there be enough food in there to keep me alive for two days. I almost dropped my food box when Corporal Minnie shouted next to me.

"Dumont, what the fuck did you do with your boots?"

Rex looked down at his socked feet and said, "They're down by my bag, Corporal."

Corporal Minnie looked down the hillside where our bags waited.

"So why aren't you wearing them?" he asked.

Rex shifted his feet uncomfortably and said, "They're frozen, Corporal. I made a small fire to warm them."

The Corporal could see the thin trail of smoke that rose from the direction of our camp site. He shook his head.

"Make sure you put that fire out before you go. You all have thirty minutes to eat something, and then we have to get going. We have a long day ahead of us."

When we returned to our sleeping spot, I tore the plastic from my rat pack to examine the contents. The first thing that caught my attention, were three small tins. The first had writing that said, "Steak and Onions," the second, "Peas," and the third, "Beans and Vienna's." There was also a packet of porridge, two small tubes of processed cheese, a packet with strawberry milkshake, two energy bars, one small packet of raisins, one packet that contained four hard biscuits, one roll of vitamin C sweets, a packet of instant coffee for one serving, a packet of tea for one cup, a packet of creamer, four small envelopes of sugar, a small envelope of salt, two envelopes of energy drink mix, a book of matches, a string of four fuel tablets in blister wrap, and some small plastic bags.

I was quite surprised how much stuff they packed into that small little box. I tried to figure out how to divide the contents over two days, but was so hungry I could eat the entire box right there and then. For once I wished Frankie was there. I am sure he would have given great advice as to what the purpose of each item was, and how to correctly use it.

Coffee was always a good way to start, so I removed my fire bucket from my water bottle, poured enough water in it for a cup of coffee, and placed the bucket on the fire. Rex's boots were now defrosted and he pulled the warm boots onto his cold feet.

While I waited for the water to heat, I opened the packet of biscuits, removed two, and saved the other two for the next day. I took a tube of processed cheese, poked a small hole in the top, and squeezed the contents onto a biscuit. I used my finger to spread the soft cheese evenly over the biscuit, and then placed the other biscuit on top.

I stuck my finger into the fire bucket to test the water, but it was not warm enough yet. I took a bite from the biscuit sandwich and found that it didn't taste all that bad. Everybody in the army called them dog biscuits, because the square biscuits did resemble the treats that dog owners gave to their dogs. They were similar in texture and I wouldn't have been surprised if they tasted the same.

Rex followed my lead and fixed himself a cheese sandwich. By the time I took the last bite of biscuit, I found it hard to swallow. It was dry and got stuck in my throat. The water in my fire bucket was warm, but not yet boiling. It had to do. I ripped the top of the coffee packet and poured the contents into the fire bucket. I used two sugars, then found a twig to use as a teaspoon, and stirred the contents.

I took a small sip and it possibly was the worst cup of coffee I ever had, but right at that moment, it tasted pretty good. Rex poured the contents of the porridge bag into a plastic bag, then added water, and tried to shake it, but he spilled half the contents over himself.

"Tie the end of the bag and then shake it," the short stocky guy offered.

Rex did so and was able to shake the contents together. When it was mixed, he turned the bag upside down, bit a hole on one corner, and sucked the porridge out of the bag.

"Not bad" he said through a mouthful.

"You guys all from Charlie Company?" the short guy asked.

All three of us nodded and the guy said, "I'm from Alpha Company. My name is Dirk Rogers."

I introduced Rex, Trevor and myself, then some of the other guys in our walking section introduced themselves too. We spent the whole day walking together, but didn't even have the time or energy to make our acquaintances.

Manny Goosen was a big guy, and the sun did a number on his fair skin. Colin Moore was almost as tall as Corporal Minnie and just as skinny. Rufus Korff had thick black bushy eyebrows that made his face look mean. Eric Wilcox always looked nervous. His eyes darted around, rarely in one place for longer than a second. Then there were the Greer twins, Anton and Paul, identical in every way. The only way to tell them apart was the small scar that Paul had in the corner below his right eye.

My feet were tender from the previous day's walk and I cringed at the thought of another day's walking. I stuffed one of the energy bars and the roll of Vitamin C sweets in my pocket, and stored the rest of the provisions in my bag. We were allowed to refill our water bottles, and while I waited in line, I drank every drop that was left in my bottle. I had no idea how much water, if any, we would receive during day, and a little hydration wouldn't hurt.

A corporal stood watch and ensured that we took no more than one bottle of water each. Rex stood behind me in the queue.

"If we make it back to the base, I'll pay Frik to cook us a decent meal," he said.

Our friend Frik, a chef in the kitchen, knew how to cook a mean meal. Once done with the army, he wanted to become a career chef, and was talented enough to achieve his goal.

My tummy gurgled just at the thought of his food. I turned to Rex.

"Do you have to talk about food?"

Rex shook his head and said, "You see this grin on my face? It is not a smile. That's hunger pains pulling my face this way."

I shook my head but had to agree. I could deal with the physical abuse the corporals dished out, but the constant hunger was a whole different challenge.

By the time the sun peaked over the horizon, we were ready to tackle the next leg of our walk. I looked up at the sky and saw it was another cloudless day. The air was still ice cold, but the sun's rays warmed my face, and it wouldn't take long to work up to a sweltering heat.

Corporal Minnie shouted at us to gather, and moments later we walked down the hill, back to the road.

"Damn, I'm stiff," Trevor said.

"We can always run, that will help," the corporal offered generously. Of course, running was his answer for all ailments.

Everyone shook their heads and Dirk said, "Thanks, Corporal, but we'll manage."

Hitler had a wide grin on his face. It didn't take long to fall into a rhythm and to loosen the sore muscles. Once we left the hillside, the terrain flattened out again. I think we spent the night on the only hill in the area. As far as I could see around me, everything was flat. In the distance, a few scattered trees were surrounded by rolling fields of grass. Next to the road was a fence, and in the distance I heard the sound of cows. It must have been someone's farm.

I didn't get too much time to admire the country side as Corporal Minnie yelled with renewed vigor. I tried my best to let my mind wander to Charlotte, to keep my mind of the strain, but the corporal's constant yelling made it difficult to concentrate. It was as if he tried his best to focus our attention on what we did, and that made us even more tired.

"We have an interesting day ahead of us," he said and gave a short laugh, obviously knowing something that we didn't.

"In the army every day is interesting," Rex mumbled behind me.

Exactly how exciting our day was about to get, we found out around the next corner. Two trucks waited for us, one loaded with Ratel tires, and another with a stack of Ratel tow bars.

### Chapter 4

"Grab a tow bar and a tire. You'll carry it for the rest of the day, and hurry, we don't have all day!" Hitler yelled. We stood and looked at each other as if all was a nasty dream that we hoped to wake up from soon, but no such luck. We quickly decided that two people would grab a tow bar and two people a tire. The four would carry it for a kilometer before we switched.

Rex and I grabbed the four-meter-long tow bar which weighed twenty-two kilograms. In order to handle the tow bar, we had to sling our rifles across our bodies, and lift it onto our shoulders. It promised to be a tough day. Carrying the tow bar alone would be difficult, but carrying it with all our kit would be a mental and physical challenge, which probably was the point. It was uncomfortable and awkward, and together with the kit, proved difficult to hold.

The Greer twins grabbed the tire, positioned themselves on either side, made it stand upright, and proceeded to rolled it. Although the tire didn't have a rim, at one and a half meters tall, proved a heavy task. One person alone couldn't handle it.

Every fifty meters or so, we had to stop and lift the tow bar over our heads onto the other shoulder. The heavy piece of solid steel took its toll. After four hundred meters my back strained and my legs buckled. I would never have made it a kilometer. Behind me I heard Rex struggled just as hard.

"Eh, guys, I think we have to rethink our strategy. We'll never make it a kilometer," I said.

The other people in our group looked at us skeptically, trying to figure out if we were weak, or if it really was an impossible task.

"Ok, how about we switch at five hundred meters?" Trevor asked.

The Greer twins looked at each other then Paul said, "We're ok on the tire for a kilo, but that tow bar looks a lot more uncomfortable."

My shoulders and back agreed.

When we reached the five hundred meter mark, Manny and Colin lifted the weight from our shoulders.

Rex and I dropped to the ground, leaning against our back packs.

"What the hell? Do you think you're on fucking holiday? Get your lazy asses back on your feet," Corporal Minnie yelled.

I threw him a sideward glance, and for a split second I considered telling him to fuck off, but quickly thought better of it, and struggled back to my feet. That would have been a sure way to get kicked out of the program.

"Ugh, you weren't kidding, this fucking thing is heavy," Colin said after a few steps.

Without the tow bar, walking was a lot easier, and I took a few sips from my water bottle. My throat begged for liquid. While carrying the tow bar, one had to hang on for dear life. I couldn't even take a sip from my water bottle. I simply didn't have enough hands.

Manny and Colin walked about three hundred meters when Manny said, "Shit Chris, you're right. There's no way we can carry this thing a whole kilo."

I could see the fear in the eyes of the others who still had to carry the tow bar. By the time Trevor and Dirk took over, Manny and Colin were finished.

They were going to drop the steel bar, when Hitler shouted, "That tow bar better not touch the ground. If it does, you're out of the SL program!"

Manny already let the heavy steel bar slid from his shoulder, and had to grab at it in a hurry, but he was too late.

I saw what happened, dived forward, and caught the end of the tow bar millimeters from the ground. Rufus also assisted, and together we lifted it again until Trevor slipped his shoulder underneath and supported the weight of the solid steel bar.

"Phew," Rex breathed in relief. "That was close."

Colin, at the other end of the bar, hung on for dear life. Dirk had to pry the steel bar from his fingers.

With the weight lifted off Manny and Colin, there was no time to rest. We had to continue forward and had to catch our breath while walking. All the extra effort and the rush of adrenalin made me even more tired. Rufus and Eric took over the tire and we continued our journey in silence. With carrying the tow bar and rolling the tire, progress was slow and we didn't cover much ground, which gave everybody, besides the ones that did the carrying, time to recover.

Around midday, the corporal called a thirty-minute break. We could rest and eat, but we had to keep the tire in an upright position, and the tow bar was not allowed to touch the ground. In order to give our shoulders a break, we rested the bar on top of the tire. Two people still had to ensure the steel bar stayed balanced, but it was easier than when we carried it on our shoulders. Hitler stared at us with a bemused look on his face, but didn't say a word.

I fished the rat pack from my bag, and at the sight of food, my stomach growled with hunger. I grabbed the tin with beans and Vienna's and opened it with the knife. The contents quickly disappeared down my throat, and I used my finger to get every last drop of sauce from the container. I stared at the empty tin with longing eyes, my tummy still growling. Not to offend my stomach any further, I ate one of my energy bars while I fixed one of the drinks.

I poured the powder from the sachet into one of the small rectangular plastic bags, and then filled the bag with the lukewarm water from my bottle. I kept the half eaten energy bar in my mouth, while I tied the end of the plastic bag. Once done, I gave it a good shake, turned it upside down, bit a small hole in the end, and suck the drink out of the bag. After the sweet energy bar, it tasted a little bitter, but I didn't care, it was wet.

Once done with my lunch, I motion to Rex to grab one end of the pole so that Paul and Anton could eat some lunch. The thirty minutes passed in a blink of an eye.

"OK, time's up, let's go!" Hitler yelled way too soon.

"Just shoot me now," Rex mumbled.

Rufus and Erik grab the tow bar, while Rex and I rolled the tire. Although much easier to handle than the bar, it was still awkward and turned my arms into jelly.

Twice more throughout the day we almost dropped either the heavy steel bar or the tire, but someone was always close by to stop such a tragic event.

The sun moved on its arc through the sky, and baked us with its rays. It approached the western horizon when Rex and I took over the tow bar once again. I lost count how many times the heavy bar changed hands, or how many times I had to lift it onto my sore shoulders.

One time I tried to use the jersey in my back pack as a buffer on my shoulder, but Hitler started to yell at me and I had to abandon the brilliant plan, and had to suffer through the pain. I cringed when I took the tow bar from Trevor and almost yelled as it pressed into my already bruised right shoulder. The strap of the back pack didn't offer much protection, and at times, made it worse. The bulge of the strap made holding the bar on your shoulders more difficult. We changed shoulders much more frequent than earlier in the day.

I already had images of us having to hold the tow bar up all night, but as we round another corner, the two trucks from the morning waited for us.

"Load the tow bar and tire onto the trucks, and make it quick," Hitler yelled.

It took six of us to load the tow bar, and all of us to heave the tire onto the other truck. I looked around and saw no sign of anybody else, and knew our walk wasn't done yet.

We had no time to catch our breath before the corporal started yelling.

"Will this shit ever end?" Trevor asked.

I grabbed my pack and swung it onto my back. My shoulders felt raw and bruised and the straps were uncomfortable. Bending down, I lifted my rifle from its bipod, folded it into place, and then we walked again.

Not having the tow bar and tire to slow us down, we picked up our pace, walking with much more freedom. Around another corner and down a slight hill, it was well after dark when we finally reached our campsite for the night. There was no shelter, and we had to sleep in the open, but at least it was flat.

I ate the small can of peas but my stomach growled, wanting more. I made another cheesy sandwich with the remaining two dog biscuits.

Trevor sat on the ground, leaning with his back against his pack.

"I can't take much more of this fucking shit," he said. "If they pull the tow bar and tire crap again tomorrow, I'm done."

I shook my head. "Don't worry. I'm sure they'll come up with something new and exciting tomorrow. These assholes are never short of new ideas."

Still feeling hungry, I tried to ignore my stomach and drank some water, before I rolled out my sleeping bag for the night. I pulled off my boots and heard Rex sigh. He finished a tin of food and the pained expression on his face looked worse in the dancing shadows of our small fire.

I stared at the hunched figures on their sleeping bags, and they all looked broken. The past two days we endured torture on our bodies like we had never done before. Our group was still intact, but I heard that quite a number of people dropped out of the program, unable to take any further punishment. I had to wonder what they had planned for us the next day. Whatever it was, it sure wouldn't be pleasant.

"I wonder what George and Charlie did today?" Rex asked.

I shook my head. "I'm sure nothing as strenuous as this. Now they're probably fast asleep in a warm bed with full bellies," I replied. I could sure use some of Charlie's optimism.

"Lucky buggers. I sure don't know what the hell I thought doing this shit. I should've applied for a job in the kitchen instead."

I smiled. Rex's existence was ruled by his stomach.

"Sleep well guys," I said, and a few groans were the only answer I received. Most were too tired to speak.

"I thought we were only supposed to walk ninety kilos," Rex said.

I knew what he meant. It felt like we have walked over two hundred kilometers, when in fact we did only about seventy-five. I stuffed my gun and boots inside the sleeping bag, and looked over to see Rex do the same. He learnt his lesson from his frozen boots that morning, which seemed like weeks ago.

Laughter echoed from the corporal's tent. They discussed the day's events and I didn't find it amusing that our pain and suffering was such a source of amusement. I am sure they thought the same when their corporals laughed at them when they did their Vasbyt. The rest of our camp was dead still and most were already fast asleep.

I stared up at the sky. Millions of twinkling stars stared back at me. For a moment I forgot where I was and what I had to do the last two days. Everything was so peaceful and serene. Somewhere, far in the distance, a dog barked. My thoughts drifted to Charlotte and then I was fast asleep.

### Chapter 5

The shrill sound of a whistle yanked me from a deep sleep. I unzipped my sleeping bag and sat upright to determine what caused the commotion. It was still dark, with only a hint of dawn in the east. The corporals walked through the campsite waking everybody.

"Come on, get your lazy asses out of the sleeping bags. We have a busy day ahead of us. Move it!" one of the corporals shouted.

"If you want to eat before we hit the road, you better get to it. You won't have time later," another yelled.

"Can't they just for once, wake us up nicely?" Rex asked.

I unzipped the rest of the sleeping bag. The cold morning air hit me, taking my breath away. I reached into my bag, pulled my boots out and onto my feet. I needed a tree in a hurry, and the cold didn't help. Everywhere guys ran behind a tree to do their morning business. There weren't enough, so some had two guys behind one tree.

When I got back to my spot, I folded my sleeping bag and started a fire. There was no coffee left, so I had to settle for a morning cup of tea. While the water heated, I poured the sachet of porridge into a plastic bag, added enough water, tied the ends together, and gave it a good shake.

I gazed up at Rex, who looked miserable.

"Didn't you sleep?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"No, I think it's too quiet. Maybe I miss George's snoring."

I knew what he meant. After sharing a bungalow with our friend George for three months, we got used to his constant snoring. The peace and quiet was too much. I barely had time to finish my tea before corporal Minnie walked over.

"Time to go boys, we have a big day ahead," he said.

In the army, every day was a big day. It didn't take us long to get our backpacks on our tender shoulders, and with our rifles in our arms, we started walking. Dirk walked in the lead.

"Hey, Dirk," Trevor said. "Speed it up there in front. I'm freezing."

"There's nothing better to warm you on a cold autumn morning than a brisk walk in nature," Rex said.

"We can always run," the corporal offered.

He carried no baggage, so it wouldn't be a problem for him. With our heavy packs and sore muscles, it would have been the end.

"Rex, shut-up," I said before my friend's fast tongue got us into trouble.

Two hours later, we worked up quite a sweat when we reached the river. We stopped and I looked up and down, but saw no bridge.

"Now what?" Manny asked.

Corporal Minnie grinned and said, "Now we cross the river."

We all looked at him skeptically, sure that he was touched by the sun.

"You have thirty minutes to decide how you want to cross, and to prepare," he said.

I dropped my pack, walked to the edge of the water, bent down and stuck my hand into the cold, brown water of the river.

"He's got to be kidding," Trevor said, but I looked at the corporal's face. He was dead serious.

While the others debated the corporal's mental health, I stared at my pack. How would we cross the river and keep all our stuff dry? The last thing I wanted to do was sleep in a wet or damp sleeping bag. That would have been a sure recipe for pneumonia.

My bivvy was the only thing in my pack good against water. I unfolded the square sail and looked at it carefully. You could use it as a one-man tent and it would keep you dry. It had a hole in the centre for when it rained, you could stick your head in, and the flap in the middle doubled as a hood, keeping your head dry.

Then I got an idea. I tied the hood piece into a knot, spread the bivvy on the ground, and placed my pack in the middle. If I tied the four corners together, it should keep the pack dry. It was time to test my theory, and by now the others watched me curiously. Even the corporal watched me with a bemused smile.

I fished my PT clothes from my bag, removed my boots and socks, stripped my overalls, and dressed in shorts and the T-shirt. I stuffed everything back in my bag, placed my rifle on top, and tied the corners of the sail together.

I dragged the pack to the edge of the river and tested the water with my feet. The cold water nearly left me breathless, but I bit my tongue and walked deeper into the murky water, the pack in tow. After three steps, I was knee deep and the pack floated on the water.

"Chris, you're a fucking genius," Rex said and pulled his bivvy from his bag.

I watched as the rest of the squad wrapped their kit in their bivvys. When Rex was done, he pulled me to the side.

"Chris, how deep do you think the river is here?"

I stared at the mass of water, gently flowing on its long journey towards the ocean. The river was thirty meters wide.

I shook my head. "I have no idea, but it looks quite deep,"

Worry filled Rex's face. "Chris, I have a problem." He paused for a moment, then leaned over and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"I can't swim."

"What?" I asked in disbelief. That sure posed a problem.

"It's my mother's fault," Rex said. "She never allowed me near a swimming pool. She always said that I couldn't get into the water until I learned how to swim."

I shook my head. "What kind of logic is that?"

Rex scratched his head. "I never said the woman is logical. If she could only see the mess I am in now."

I slapped him on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry. I'll make sure you get across safely, but you'll have to trust me and do what I say."

Rex nodded.

"I'll help too. You're in good hands," Trevor said with a smile. He overheard our conversation.

"Ok boys, let's get you across," the corporal said.

I turned my head and had to swallow a laugh in a hurry. Hitler stripped down to his underwear and had all his clothes wrapped in a plastic bag.

He led the way into the water, and by the cringe on his face, I could tell he wasn't fond of the cold water. Before I even got my pack to the water, he already made it to the other side.

"Move it, we haven't got all day," he yelled.

I glanced at a nervous Rex and said, "Stay between me and Trevor. Hang on to your bivvy. It will keep you afloat and we will guide you across."

We entered the cold, murky water. Four steps from the bank, we were already waist deep. I tried to ignore the cold and concentrated on what needed to be done.

"Rex, this water gets deep pretty quick, so hang on tight," I said.

He threw his arms over his pack and gripped it in a bear-hug.

Two more steps and my feet didn't touch the bottom anymore.

"Oh shit," Rex said, and tightened his grip.

I hung onto my own pack with my left arm while I gripped hold of Rex's with my right. I kicked with my legs to give us forward momentum. On the other side, Trevor did the same. The rest of the squad made it across before us. Manny grasped what went on, and once he deposited his pack on the bank, he waded back into the water. He grabbed hold of the front of Rex's pack and pulled.

"Ok, you can stand now," I said and a relieved Rex found his footing.

By the time I pulled my pack from the water, my body was numb. My teeth clattered and I tried to untie the knot of my bivvy, but my fingers were numb with cold. I rubbed my hands together, and blew into them, desperately trying to warm them.

When I finally got the knot undone, I fished a towel and dry underwear from the bag, and stripped all the wet clothes from my body. Stark naked, I dried my frozen body. The warm rays of the autumn sun felt good on my bare skin.

"Get out of those wet clothes and into your overalls. You have ten minutes," the fully clothed corporal said.

"Thanks Chris, I would never have made it across the river without your help," Rex said loud enough so only I could hear.

I nodded. In the army, we learnt to help each other.

Once everyone was fully clothed, with our packs on our backs, we walked. For once, nobody complained. The walking warmed our cold bodies. An hour later, my overheated body wished for some cold water.

We stopped next to the road for a lunch break, but there was not much left to eat. I opened the can with the steak and onions, and wolfed it down. Cold, it tasted horrible, but I didn't complain. The only other thing of sustenance left was the strawberry milkshake. I fixed it so I could drink it while walking.

Around noon we rounded another corner, and I saw the river again. Next to the river was a whole lot of activity. Poles, several empty oil drums, ropes, and shovels were stacked to the side.

"This doesn't look good," Rex said.

Whatever they had planned, it involved the river.

The corporal stopped us near the building site. He turned and smiled.

"Well, boys, I never thought you would, but you made it. You're done with the walk."

Rex and I stared at all the stuff lying around, and then looked at each other. We waited for the 'but'. In the army, there was always a 'but'.

"Now for the fun part," Corporal Minnie said. "Your task is to build a float that would take you the last five kilometers down the river. At the end, there's a warm shower, a hot meal, and a cozy bed waiting."

"We've heard that one before," Rex mumbled.

For the first time since I met him, Corporal Minnie laughed out loud. "Yes, but this time it's true,"

We still didn't believe him.

"Change into your PT clothes and then load your packs onto the back of that Samil," he said, and pointed to the parked truck under the tree.

"Any questions?"

"Eh, yes, Corporal," Manny said. "How are we supposed to build this float?"

The corporal shrugged. "That's part of your challenge. You have to figure it out and build it to your own design. Keep in mind, at any one point in time, there has to be three people on top of the raft."

Rex dropped his head into his hands and said, "I'm dead."

"Ok, enough chitchat. Get moving! You have two hours, and then your floats have to be in the water," Hitler said.

I dropped my pack and dug in my bag for my PT clothes. They were still damp from that morning. Wasting no time, we stripped our overalls and dressed in shorts and T-shirts. Once done, we deposited our backpacks onto the Samil. It felt good to be rid of them after the two-and-a-half day walk.

"Let's go build a boat," Dirk said enthusiastically.

As we walked down to our building area, Rex pulled me back.

"Chris, I'm not sure I'm up for this," he said.

I stared into his worried eyes. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll make sure you reach the finish line, even if I have to tie you onto the float to keep you out of the water."

Rex gave a nervous smile, but the worry didn't leave his eyes.

We gathered around the supplies.

"Does anybody have any boat-building experience?" Colin asked.

Nobody did. For the next hour, we tried out various designs. Forming a square with the four poles and placing the four drums on the corners, too unstable. We placed two drums side-by-side with two poles across the drums, not enough rope to tie it all together.

All around us, other squads faced the same dilemma. We only had an hour left and still were no closer to a solution."

"How about we lay the drums next to each other and the four poles across them?" Rex asked.

"It will work, but I don't know how stable it'll be," Trevor answered.

"There's just one way to find out," I said.

While we positioned the drums and poles, Manny said, "It's bloody hot. Do you think we'll get in trouble if we take our shirts off?"

Colin pointed to one of the other squads and said, "That guy has no shirt."

Manny was about to remove his shirt, when one of the corporals shouted at the shirtless guy.

"Put your shirt back on. Do you think you're on the fucking beach?"

I chuckled and said, "Well, Manny, I think that answers your question."

We used two of the ropes to tie the drums to the poles, which left us with one spare rope. I noticed Rex worked harder than everybody else to build the raft. He knew that once the float was in the water, he won't be able to do much.

I used the extra rope and tied it to the front of the raft. I made sure there was a small loop on top of the structure for Rex to hang on to. The remainder of the rope would be in the water. Two people would swim out front to help tow the raft.

"I think she's ready," Trevor said.

"Wait, before we go. She needs a name," Anton said.

"How about, the Titanic Float?" Paul asked.

"If I remember correctly, the Titanic sank," Rex said, sounding even more worried.

"Only after it hit an iceberg. As long as we stay clear of those, we'll be ok," Paul said.

"Well, we're running out of time. Let's get this Titanic Float into the water," I said.

We each grabbed a side, lifted the structure, and carried it into the water. The whole thing was heavy, and for a moment, I thought it would sink like a tank. We stayed near the edge and gently lowered the raft into the river.

"What do you know, it floats," Trevor said surprised.

We were ready to go.

Chapter 6

"Rex, hop on, grab that rope and make sure you don't let go," I said.

Too nervous to speak, Rex only nodded. He climbed onto the raft and gripped the rope with both hands. The makeshift boat wobbled but remained upright. Rex would have preferred to lie flat on the float, but it didn't provide enough space.

Anton and Paul also climbed on, gripping the shovels, which would be used as oars. Colin and Manny took hold of the rope and waded into the water, pulling the raft along. The rest of us swam next to the float, hanging on with one arm, helping it along with the other.

The water was just as cold as that morning, but the warmer air temperature made it more bearable.

"Ok, here we go," I said.

Anton and Paul started rowing with the shovels. The float moved slowly, drifting down the river. All around us, other squads worked feverishly to get their rafts moving. Progress was slow. When Trevor and I relieved an exhausted Colin and Manny on the lead rope, we only progressed about a hundred meters.

Yelling to my left caught my attention. Two other floats drifted together, and their crews tried desperately to get them apart. With all the struggling, one of the rafts, a triangle-shaped construction, came apart. Once untangled from the other raft, their crew worked hard to get the float back to the bank to do emergency repairs.

Never a strong swimmer, my arms didn't take long to tire. I looked over to my right, and saw Trevor had the same problem. We stopped swimming and waited for the raft to catch up to us.

"I don't really see any benefit from swimming out front," Trevor gasped. I had to agree.

We decided to abandon that idea. We made slow but steady progress until a new problem arrived. The corporals showed up with two speedboats, to keep an eye on everyone in the water, and to ensure that nobody drowned.

Every time they zipped past, the wake caused by the boat tossed our raft around. Rex hung on to the rope for dear life, swearing continuously.

"These fucking assholes are doing this on purpose," Rex said.

It seemed they gave extra attention to the squads whose floats did well. They circled us a few times until our float bobbed around violently. I heard an anxious yell and saw Rex tumbling from the raft, but he still managed to hang onto the rope.

I quickly swam forward and grabbed hold of him.

"Easy, Rex, I got you," I said but he still kicked wildly. One kick bounced off my head and I realized he was in a panic.

I grabbed one of his legs. "Rex, cut this shit out, you're going to drown us both."

The words had the desired effect and he stopped his kicking. Trevor lent a hand and we lifted Rex onto the raft. The waves subsided as the boats moved onto another target.

"Thanks," Rex said, white in the face.

"I'm getting seasick," Anton said.

"Trevor and I will take over," I said and pulled myself onto the raft.

Anton handed me the shovel, but my hands were wet and he let go before I had a hold of it. With a clang, it hit the side of the float, and tumbled into the water. Without a thought, I dove in after it, knowing I had only one chance to grab it. My fingers closed around the handle and I made my way back to the surface.

When my head broke water, Anton stood on his knees on the raft staring down at me.

"Did you get it?" he asked.

I hoisted the shovel onto the raft, and he sighed.

"Shit. Sorry, Chris. I thought you had it,"

From that point, we handled the shovels with more care. After all the excitement, everyone hung onto the float for awhile, drifting down the river. My body felt numb with the coldness of the water. Once I made it back onto the raft, I soaked up the rays of the afternoon sun. The wind picked up and it didn't take long before I realized it was actually warmer in the water.

Without a word we continued on our journey. It might have been fun for the corporals, but for us, it was torture. The trip on the river exhausted us more than the walking of the previous two days.

I heard a yell from the left side of the raft, and looked over, just in time to see Eric's head disappear under the water.

Without hesitation I dived in after him. With the murky water visibility was zero, and I had to feel my way around. Rather than me finding him, one of Eric's flailing arms found me. His fingers dug into my left shoulder, and I winced in pain. I twisted around and kicked my legs to get away from him before he drowned us both.

I came up behind him and grabbed him around the chest. His struggling got weaker and I desperately kicked to get us back to the surface. I felt another pair of hands as someone else also came to the rescue.

When my head broke the surface, I gasped for air. Another few seconds and I would have swallowed water. By now, Eric was limp in my arms, and I became aware of Rex's shouting. He tried to get the attention of one of the corporals on the speed boat.

Colin and Trevor both dove down to help, and it was their hands I felt under the water. When we appeared, the others were on hand and we lifted Eric onto the float. His left leg was still contorted with cramp, the cause of his troubles.

We all learned first aid in basic training, which came in handy. Anton tilted Eric's head back and blew air into his water-filled lungs, while Paul pressed rhythmically on Eric's chest. It took a few tries, but he finally coughed and cleared his lungs of the liquid.

"What happened?" Corporal Minnie demanded when the speedboat pulled alongside our float.

"Eric got a leg cramp and went under," I panted where I clung to the raft.

"Chris, Trevor and Colin went after him and pulled him out," Rex finished the explanation.

"Move him over to the boat," the corporal instructed.

Eric, now fully conscious and still coughing, assisted. They moved him over into the boat, taking care not to drop him into the water.

"Dumont, come along and make sure Wilcox don't fall out," the corporal instructed and Rex jumped into the boat.

Corporal Minnie knew Rex couldn't swim, and I think he asked him along before we had to fish him out of the water too. We watched as the boat took off with Eric and Rex down the river. At least the incident with Eric had one positive outcome. The corporals stopped fooling around on the speedboats.

I lay on the float on my back for a few minutes to catch my breath. I was exhausted, but we still had some river to cover. In all the commotion, we lost one of the shovels. My entire body shook from the cold, and I tried not to think about it.

The time dragged on and it got late, and there was no end to the river. Whatever sweat I collected the last three days was washed away. As the afternoon carried on, the corporals passed us several times with people in the boat that got into trouble on the water.

Our raft held together and our progress was steady. As we rounded another bend, we saw the finish line.

"There it is guys," I said.

"Wow, at last," Anton said, and we all cheered.

Three hundred meters ahead, on the left bank, there was a sea of army activity. From the water, we couldn't really see what went on, but we knew we had to make it there. With renewed energy we steered our float in that direction. We were not the first squad back, three others already finished, but we were happy to pull our float from the water. My skin was rippled and white, with a shade of blue, but the excitement of the finish drove the cold away.

We congratulated each other when Rex joined us.

"Hi guys, glad to see you made it," he said.

I walked over and greeted my friend. "How's Eric?"

Rex smiled and said, "He's fine. After he coughed all the water out of his lungs, they gave him oxygen. He's resting in one of the tents."

I looked over to where a camping area waited for us.

"And that?" I asked.

"You're not going to believe it, but the corporal wasn't lying. They set up camp for us with beds and everything. Tonight they're throwing us a party. Vasbyt is over!"

I stared at Rex, sure he'd been joking. Corporal Minnie walked over, a big grin on his face.

"Well guys, you made it. You survived Vasbyt. Get out of that wet clothes before you catch a cold. Tonight we party."

We retrieved our backpacks from the Samil and changed into dry overalls. We selected one of the tents for the night, surprised to find it set up with beds. After sleeping on the hard ground for two nights, the soft mattresses were a welcomed sight. The guys in our little squad suffered together for three days, and we formed a tight bond.

We heard that sixteen people dropped out of the program over the course of the three days, most on the second day with the tow bars and the tires. Working together in the squad was essential, and Rex and I were lucky in that regard. Our squad clicked from the beginning and helped each other. That made the three-day endurance march a little easier to handle. The dropouts were in squads who had trouble working together.

Rex sat on his bed and he pulled his boots on his sore feet.

"I can't believe we survived this."

I chuckled and said, "Yeah, but we did. If Charlie was here, he would've said how much fun it was."

"Well, it's a good thing he's not here then, because if he said that, I would shoot him," Rex said with a smile.

Rex stared at me for a moment, and his pensive look made me uncomfortable.

"Chris, you saved my life today," he said.

I waved a hand in the air. "Rex, I helped a friend. You would have done the same for me."

Rex shook his head. "No, it is more than that. You also helped to save Eric, and you barely know him. I panicked today, but your presence calmed me. You're a good leader."

I shifted uncomfortably on the bed under Rex's praise. Before I could say anything, a corporal's whistle blew, calling us.

We formed a squad in a small clearing next to the tents. To the right, several fires were lit in braai stands made out of cut-in-half oil drums.

Sergeant Major Wise faced us, his huge moustache vibrating in the breeze.

"Boys, well done! You all showed great determination these last three days. Something that is essential from our leaders. Tonight, we relax." He pointed to an area behind us. "You can each get one beer from the corporal and then get some meat from the kitchen staff."

We were dismissed and ran to the tents to fetch our dixies, then joined the line, first to get our beer and then the meat. Frik was at the meat pots, handing everyone a pork chop, one small T-bone steak, and a piece of boerewors.

"Glad to see you two are still alive," he greeted Rex and me. It was always good to see our friend. We didn't have time to chat, and I held out my dixie. Frik threw a side glance at the supervising corporal, but his attention was occupied somewhere else.

"Here's your meat," Frik said and pulled extra-sized portions from another container for Rex and me. We could always count on Frik to make sure we got special helpings. We found an open fire, and dropped our meat on the grill. The wonderful smell of the grilling meat made my stomach rumble and my mouth water.

We had little to eat the last three days, and I was weak with hunger. The meat could have done with an extra five minutes on the fire, but I was unable to wait any longer. The moment there was no sign of blood left on the meat, I wolfed it down.

With the food and beer in my belly, my eye lids felt heavy. There was no sign of Rex, so I said goodbye to Frik and made my way to the tent. Rex was curled up on his bed, already fast asleep. It didn't take me long to join him in dreamland.

When I opened my eyes, I was surprised that it was light outside. Everyone was still fast asleep. The corporals didn't wake us until 06:00. After breakfast, we had to break down the camp and load everything on the Samils.

It didn't take long for the corporals to start their yelling. Apparently, they partied till late, so were in a foul mood. Once everything was loaded, we jumped onto the vehicles. It was almost noon when we drove into the base, and I never thought I would be so happy to see the place.

We were instructed to get all our kit from our old bungalow and move into a different bungalow behind the administrative offices. They wanted to keep all on the section leading program together. After we moved, we were allowed to take a shower, and then had the rest of the afternoon to ourselves. Most of us spent the day catching up on lost sleep and nursing our sore bodies. We enjoyed the peace and quiet, but it wouldn't last long.

### Chapter 7

If after Vasbyt, we lived under the illusion that things would be easier, then we were sadly mistaken. It was still dark and cold when the corporal stood in the middle of the bungalow and blew his whistle. The irritating little pea inside the device, not only made a hell of a racket, it rattled around inside my head.

We jumped out of our beds and stood at the foot end, wide awake and at attention. Someone flipped on the lights. The corporal stared at us with his hands on his hips. He was short with dark, curly hair and thick bushy eyebrows.

"I sincerely hope that you didn't plan to sleep all day. We have lots to do today," he said in a sweet, innocent voice. "We'll start with breakfast and a nice little inspection."

He left the bungalow and I sat down on my bed.

"Who's that asshole?" Rex asked.

"Corporal Danson," Manny answered. "In basics he was with Bravo Company, and asshole doesn't quite describe him. He suffers from little-man syndrome and is a real son-of-a-bitch. When he gets upset, he stutters. If he's our new platoon corporal, we're in deep shit."

"Ugh, just fucking great," Rex said and dropped his head into his hands.

I grabbed my towel and shaving kit, and as I walked by, slapped Rex on the shoulder.

"Don't worry. They're all assholes. We'll deal with it."

The previous day, the last thing on our minds, was an inspection. Our bungalow was a disaster, with kit strewn all over the place. But we had plenty of practice preparing for inspections in basics. By the time we formed for breakfast, every bed was neatly made, every steel cabinet smartly packed, our rifles cleaned, trommels organized, and our boots shining.

All of us in the Section Leading program were divided into the two bungalows. They could have moved us all into one building, but then one would stand empty. That way, we could clean both, but we were regarded as one platoon and formed together.

"Look at you," another corporal shouted. "You're supposed to be future leaders, but look like crap." He went off on a tirade of how we should set an example, but I didn't pay attention. My mind wandered to Charlotte. The last few days I didn't have much opportunity to think about her, but I missed her.

Eventually we made it to breakfast, with Frik and his kitchen staff ready to serve. We were not allowed to dish our own food, because we would take too much. Of course Frik made sure Rex and I received an extra helping of powdered scrambled eggs.

"How're George and Charlie doing?" I asked while Frik dropped the eggs onto my varkpan.

He smiled and said, "Charlie's doing well. They're not having such a tough time. Poor George's suffering though. He was under the impression he would learn how to drive, but instead, has to learn the Ratel inside-out. He didn't even touch a steering wheel yet. But it's nothing compared to what you and Rex had to go through."

Rex shook his head and said, "Yeah, I don't know what the hell I thought. Do you think it is too late to become a medic?"

After a hasty breakfast, we made our way to the bungalow for inspection. The way Corporal Danson tossed the beds, it felt like basics all over again. We even had to do a few laps around our favorite tree, now a hundred meters further.

Everything that happened that morning was our new corporals' way to show us who was in charge. Not that we ever had any doubts. Corporal Minnie did a good job in basics. You might have thought the guy who wore the rank was a complete asshole, but that didn't matter. You respected the rank.

When we reached tea-time, we finally had our bungalow to Corporal Danson's approval, although it was identical to our initial inspection from earlier. After tea, we were split into our smaller groups for lessons.

It felt good to get back to education. The last month we didn't do any actual training. For the next week we would cover infantry platoon weapons in great detail. We had to take notes, and at the end of the week, would write an exam about all the weapons covered. If one failed the exam, you got kicked out of the program.

Our instructor, Corporal Lewis, was a soft spoken man with a solid build. He played rugby with George and seemed easy going. We quickly learned not to be fooled by his calm exterior. If you did what he wanted, he remained calm. But if you got on his wrong side, he came at you with a barrage of insults, and enough physical torture that made one miss the leisurely pace of basics.

The first weapon our group covered was the multiple grenade launcher or MGL for short. Of course, like anything else in the army, it had to have a cool nickname. The MGL was fondly known as the, "snot nose." I am not exactly sure where it got that nickname, but maybe because of its short barrel.

Corporal Lewis held the weapon for us to see. It looked like a good old fashioned Tommy gun, only with a much bigger round cylinder. It had a front handle mounted below the barrel, and the cylinder took six 40mm grenades, like the chamber of a revolver. The stock could fold back for easy transport, and the sights helped to gauge the elevation needed to fire the grenade the required distance, up to four hundred meters.

"If you qualify as a Section Leader, this baby will be your responsibility," Corporal Lewis said.

Rex gave me a wide smile, always eager to shoot something. For the next hour the corporal gave us the finer details and inner workings of the weapon. I took careful notes, and even made a few crude drawings in my notebook with headings, to ensure I understand all the details. I hated exams, but that was not one I wanted to fail.

By lunchtime we knew how the MGL worked and were eager to fire it, but unfortunately had to wait a while. Nowhere in the base was one allowed to fire any weapons.

After lunch, we had our weekly fitness evaluation.

"I thought we were done with this shit," Rex said.

I laughed. "That's wishful thinking."

We lined up for the 2,4 kilometer run first. I had no problem running, but we got used to run as platoon in basics. Rex and I quickly found that we were not in basics anymore. The guys in the Section Leader program all wanted to show that they were better than the next guy.

"Come on Chris, let's go for it," Rex said and increased his pace.

I had no trouble keeping up with him.

"Hey, don't wait for me, show these assholes what real running is," Rex said.

I grinned at him and said, "See you at the finish line."

My muscles were still sore, but not unbearable. I surged forward, the rhythmic footfalls of my boots on the asphalt blending in with the others. By the start of the second lap, I caught up with the leaders, the Greer twins among them. With two hundred meters to go, a small group with five of us ran almost flat-out, well clear of the rest.

I crossed the finish line first, a meter ahead of Paul Greer. A corporal with a stopwatch and a clipboard recorded my time. My breath hurried and my lungs burnt from the effort. Rex finished about fifty meters behind me. Like me, he was too tired to speak, and simply slapped me on the shoulder. A slight smile was my only answer.

The rest of the fitness test passed in a blur. The push-ups, sit-ups and pull-ups posed no problem once I had my breath back.

At dinner time, Rex and I searched the other faces, trying to find our other friends, George and Charlie, but there was no sign of them. Frik helped dishing the food.

"Have you heard anything from George and Charlie?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes, they ate already. George said they will meet you and Rex after dinner in the canteen."

I flashed him a smile. "Great stuff. Will you join us?"

"As soon as I'm done in the kitchen," he said.

After we locked our varkpans and cutlery away, Rex and I made our way to the canteen. With basics done, we were allowed to buy beer, although only two a night. The canteen consisted of a small shop that carried all the essentials that a soldier needed, toothpaste, shoe polish, washing powder, soap, sweets, cigarettes and beer.

The shop was located in the front corner of the building. There were also a few pool tables, and several dart boards were setup against the back wall. The rest of the floor space was covered with tables and chairs. Rex and I joined the line at the shop.

I noticed a small guy with glasses walking our way. Charlie still looked like he belonged in school.

"Hey guys," he greeted us.

Rex and I were both glad to see him. It had only been a week, but after the rough time we had, it felt longer.

"George and I grabbed a table there in the corner," he said.

Once we received our beers, we joined our friends.

"There they are," George said in his booming voice when Rex and I walked over. Several of the other guys in the Section Leader program stared at us sideways. There were a few of them that thought themselves to good to mix with the general population. George and Charlie were our friends, and no program would change that.

After a nice relaxing evening with friends, I went to bed in a much better mood. We decided that whenever any of us were in the base and available, that we would meet in the canteen after hours for a beer.

Saturday morning the entire platoon was divided into guard duty shifts for the weekend. Rex and I made sure we were in the same group, and were assigned to stand guard at a Krygkor building in the city.

Our guard stints were two hours during the day and two hours at night. We only had to stand guard at the entrance and make sure no one entered the building through the front door. Quite boring actually. At least when we were not on duty, we could pass the time in our bungalow.

I wrote Charlotte a long letter and caught a nap in between shifts. Rex and I even joined Charlie, George and Frik on Sunday afternoon for a few hours of poker. Frik organized a few eats from the kitchen.

Monday started like any other day in the army. After breakfast Rex and I made our way back to the bungalow. As we passed near the kitchen, a staff sergeant stopped us.

We were ordered to help unload a few boxes from a Samil, provisions for Frik. After we were done, we hurried back to the bungalow. By then we were late, so we sprinted. As we rounded a corner, Rex ran smack into Corporal Danson, who was on his way to our bungalow.

"Oh shit! Sorry, Corporal," Rex said and we both stood at attention.

"You're fucking idiots. Can't you look where you're going?" he said as he picked himself from the ground and smacked the dirt from his browns.

We didn't say a word, just stared straight ahead.

"I'll teach you to watch where you run," he said.

And he did teach us. We spent a large part of the morning running up and down, to the tree and back, around the bungalow, back around the tree. The whole time we had to hold our rifles above our heads. An hour of that and my arms were ready to come off.

When we were finally allowed to join the morning lesson, we were both finished. Sweat poured from every pore in my body, my legs were two pieces of lead, and my arms turned to jelly. I picked up my pen to take notes, but my hand shook so badly, that I couldn't write.

Corporal Russell gave a lesson about the Patrol Mortar, but I didn't pay much attention. We covered the PatMor in great detail in basics, and I still had all my notes. I glanced sideways at Rex, and he was also broken.

When we broke for tea, I sat with my back against the wall of our bungalow.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, Chris. If I only watched where I ran, that wouldn't have happened," Rex said, his face filled with remorse.

"Don't worry, it wasn't your fault. It was an accident. That asshole overreacted," I said.

By the time we broke for lunch, I still hadn't fully recovered. After lunch, the corporals marched us past the rugby field to the obstacle course. Several different obstacles awaited us, including an abseil tower that stood thirty meters tall.

"I don't like the look of that thing," Rex said.

I was not fond of heights and didn't look forward to it either. The corporals divided us into groups. Our squad was led to a solid wooden wall, two meters high, with a rope dangling down the middle. You would run forward, and use the rope to pull yourself up the wall, and then dropped down on the other side. Once done, you ran around and joined the back of the line again.

When it was my turn, I ran forward, grabbed the rope, planted my feet against the wall and proceeded to pull myself up against the face of the wall. Immediately I realized I had a problem. Thanks to the festivities earlier with Corporal Danson, I had no strength left in my arms. I barely made it, but grabbed the top, and vaulted myself down the other side.

Rex followed me, struggling just as much. He only got over on the second attempt.

"I won't make it again," he said when he lined up behind me. I had the same thought.

When it was my turn, I ran forward and jumped as high as I could. My feet hit the wall first, about half-way up. Momentum carried me upwards and I grabbed the rope just before the top. With one pull, I was on top, and threw myself down the other side.

Rex tried the same thing I did, but he missed the rope, hit the wall hard with his shoulder, and fell on his ass. Corporal Russell found it amusing, but the rest of the squad sympathized. They didn't laugh out loud, but merely grinned. Rex made it with his second attempt.

Luckily there wasn't time for a third run. Corporal Danson blew hard on his whistle, which was the signal to move to the next challenge.

### Chapter 8

Our next obstacle presented more of a challenge than the previous one. First, you had to climb a two meter high rope ladder which resembled a fish net. Then you had to pull yourself onto a vertical beam, which you had to cross with only an overhead rope to hang onto, the only thing that kept you from falling. Finally, you had to traverse a rope that sloped to the ground.

Rex and I looked at each other. After the strain our arms endured that morning, neither of us looked forward to what lay ahead. Once again we had to form a line, but fell in at the back, giving our arms a little more time to recover. I watched the guys in front climbed the ropes before struggling up the beam, and nothing of what I saw filled me with confidence.

Then it was my turn. I took a deep breath, and then started my climb up the ropes. They were unsteady and made it hard to keep your balance. I swung back and forth, but as I got closer to the top, it became steadier.

I leaned sideways and thrust my legs upwards and over the beam. I grabbed the top rope, and tried to pull myself onto the beam. About half-way through the maneuver, I realized my mistake. There was no strength left in my arms. I grunted and made a last effort to get to the top, but what I wanted, was not what my arms could do.

As my fingers slipped the ropes, I found myself sailing backwards through the air. Before I could even utter a word, the ground slammed me in the back with such force that it knocked the wind from my lungs. I opened my mouth to satisfy my need for oxygen, but nothing happened.

In the distance Rex yelled.

"Oh Fuck, Chris! Corporal! Somebody help!"

My mouth worked like a fish on dry land, but no air entered my lungs. When I tried to move onto my side, I found I could not move. Rex must have seen the panic in my eyes. He dropped to his knees, and hit my chest with a clenched fist.

"Come on, Chris, breath," he said.

The hit on my chest had the desired effect, and I gulped down air. Something hard and uncomfortable pressed into my back, and it took me a moment to realize I landed on my dixies, still stuffed into the back of my battle webbing.

I moved onto my side, but a sharp pain shot through my back.

"Fuck, Dempsey. Are you trying to kill yourself?" Corporal Lewis asked, but I noticed the concern on his face.

"Eh no, Corporal. But I think I hurt my back," I said.

The corporal looked at Rex and said, "Dumont, go fetch a medic."

Rex simply nodded and sprinted away. One of the other corporals yelled at the crowd that gathered around me, and they moved away and formed to the side.

Five minutes later, Rex arrived with two medics arrived in a Samil 20. They helped me out of the battle jacket before they looked me over. Rex grabbed it when they tossed it to the side.

"I'll hang on to it," Rex said.

"We need to take him to the hospital," one medic said to the corporal.

Next thing I knew, I was on loaded onto stretcher and shoved into the back of the Samil. The hospital was a short drive down the road, opposite the sports grounds. They lifted me onto a gurney and wheeled it into the emergency ward. You would think because it belonged to the military it would be different, but the building looked and smelled like any other hospital.

A young nurse dressed in a brown army uniform took my blood pressure.

"What happened?" a tall guy with thick blond eyebrows asked, also dressed in a brown uniform.

"He had a two meter fall on the obstacle course," one medic said.

"Oh," the doctor said, as if it happened all the time. There were three different army bases in the Tempe compound, and a fair share of accidents occurred during training.

After X-rays, they moved me to a ward. There was a guy from 1 Parachute Battalion with a broken ankle, and two guys from 1 Special Services Battalion. One with a broken arm and one who had his appendix removed.

Ten minutes later the doctor walked in, X-rays in hand. I already feared the worst and had visions that I would be kicked out of the Section Leading program.

The doctor must have seen my face and said, "Don't worry, it's nothing serious. I can't see anything broken. Looks like you only sprained the muscles in your back. It will be sore for a few days, but you'll be back on your feet in no time."

That was quite a relief, and it seemed my dream to become a section leader remained intact. They gave me something for pain, which must have been quite strong, because ten minutes later I was fast asleep.

When I woke, four concerned faces stared at me.

"Hey, guys. What are you doing here?" I asked.

"We came to check up on you. I had to make sure they didn't put you down," George said.

Frik tapped a small bag. "I heard the food here is terrible, so I brought you something to eat."

Charlie's head barely reached the top of my hospital bed. "How do you feel?"

"Shit, Chris, you scared the hell out of me," Rex said.

I moved into a sitting position, my face twisted when pain shot through my back. "Don't tell me you guys snuck out the base?"

George shook his head. "No, farm boy organized with the colonel so that we could visit."

Frik flashed a grin. "See, it's not what, but who you know."

"So what's the prognosis?" Charlie asked.

"Just some sprained muscles in my back. They're keeping me overnight for observation but I should be released in the morning."

There was visible relief on all four faces.

I looked at Rex. "Did you survive the obstacle course?"

Rex shook his head. "After your fall, Corporal A-hole pulled me out of the exercise. He said one body in hospital was enough."

I frowned. "Corporal A-hole?"

Rex laughed. "Trevor gave Danson that nickname and it stuck."

We spend the next hour chatting away, until a nurse chased them out. Shortly after my friends left, a nurse served dinner. Frik was right, the hospital food tasted awful, and the extra munchies they brought came handy.

The following morning after breakfast, the doctor examined me. The muscles in my back were stiff and sore, but satisfied that I would be alright, he signed the discharge papers. An ambulance dropped me off at the gate, and the guards welcomed me back to the base.

I found my platoon running around the tree, and reported to Corporal Danson. He didn't appear too pleased at the sight of me. After glancing at my sick note that put me on light duty for the remainder of the week, he waved me away.

The rest of the week we continued our lessons on platoon weapons, covering the Russian made RPG-7rocket launcher, and the LMG, or Light Machine Gun. There was also another trip to the obstacle course, but being part of the light duty squad, I thankfully gave it a miss.

With his arms restored to full health, Rex had little trouble with the obstacles, but he feared the high tower. Lucky for him, they didn't do abseiling that day.

The rest of the week passed with no serious incidents. It did feel weird that I had to watch every time the others ran, or did push-ups, but that was one rule the Corporals adhered to strictly. If you were given light duty by a doctor or the medics, they didn't touch you.

We all heard the story that happened a few years before our intake. A corporal made a soldier run that was assigned light duty. That soldier died and the corporal charged with murder. Since then, they were under strict orders to leave anybody on light duty alone.

Rex and I got to spend time with our friends over the weekend. George and Charlie both got news that they would be heading out to De Brug, the military base outside Bloemfontein, where we did all our field training. About to get his first driving lesson in the Ratel, George was quite excited. Charlie had stars in his eyes at the prospect of firing the 20mm canon for the first time.

Frik informed me that he got word to prepare meals for the Section Leaders, which meant that we too would spend the following week in the field.

"I hope you plan something good," Rex said.

Ever since Frik took over as head chef in the kitchen, our food was much more edible. He also made sure his friends always received extra portions. If we had to leave the base for field exercises, we received no breakfast or lunch, just brunch.

Frik flashed Rex a grin and said, "For you, I'll cook a feast."

Rex laughed. "Frik, you're the only chef I know that can make powdered eggs taste good."

Whatever waited for us the following week didn't matter. We had our friendship and it carried us through some pretty rough stuff already. Before the army, I had been a loner most of my life, but no way would I have survived the training without the support and encouragement of my friends.

Monday morning when I woke, my back was in much better shape. Some stiffness remained, but after I moved around awhile, it loosened. My light duty was over, and I had to get back to the serious business of running, sweating and bleeding with the rest of the guys in the Section Leader program.

When Corporal Danson informed us that there would be no breakfast for us that morning, he confirmed what Frik told us the previous day, we were on our way to the field.

"Where do you think we're going?" Trevor asked.

"More than likely De Brug, but what we'll be doing there is a mystery," I said.

Rex shook his head. "Nothing good happen there."

I smiled and shook my head. George's pessimistic outlook on army life rubbed off on Rex.

It was barely light outside when the Corporal bundled the platoon into the Samils. With frost on the ground, the cold air stung my face. I dressed in my jersey and field jacket to try and keep warm. Once we hit the road, the air that whizzed into the back of the truck, was even colder. We huddled together, trying to minimize the effect of the wind. I gripped my rifle between my knees, and stuffed my hands deep into the pockets of the jacket.

De Brug was even colder. A thick layer of frost covered the ground, but the rays of the sun tried its best to assist us, and warmed the cold earth. It looked like steam came off the frozen ground. We were in some kind of hollow, with a large hill as a backdrop. As we always had to do when we exited the vehicles, we had to line up in formation.

"Last week you learned all about platoon weapons. Today you will find out what it feels like to fire those weapons," Corporal Lewis said.

Rex looked at me with big eyes and an even bigger smile. The air was thick with anticipation within the platoon, and I admit, even I was excited.

"We covered the safety aspects of each weapon last week, but will refresh your minds before we start. Gentlemen, you will be using live ammunition today and I urge you to take care in what you do. An accident could cost your life," Corporal Lewis said, and that wiped the smiles from all our faces.

Before we started, we unloaded the ammunition truck. One thing I noticed in all my time in the army, they were not shy with ammo when we trained. Several empty oil drums were setup in a line facing the hollow, where three old car wrecks stood as targets, roughly twenty meters apart.

Corporal Lewis ran us through the safety aspects of the weapons, and then we were divided into our usual groups. Our group started with the shotgun. Before I joined the army, the only weapon I fired, was a pellet gun.

The corporal loaded the pump action shotgun and explained that we each had three shots. Our target was a wooden board ten meters in front of us. When it was my turn, my hands shook slightly when I picked up the weapon from the top of the drum. As instructed, I pressed the stock firmly into my shoulder, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.

The kick when the weapon fired, took me by surprise. I was used to my rifle, which didn't have much of a kick, but the force of the shotgun jerked my shoulder back. I didn't see where the tiny pellets ended, but it was not anywhere near the target.

With my second shot, I took careful aim. The second time around I knew what to expect when I squeezed the trigger, and the kick didn't come as a surprise. The pellets slammed into the board with splinters flying in every direction. My third shot had a similar result.

"I need to get me one of those," Rex said after he had his turn with the shotgun. By the end of the day, he wanted one of everything.

Next up, we moved to the pistol. Compared to the shotgun, the 9mm Star pistol had little recoil and it was easy to hit the target.

"That was rather meek, but I still want one," Rex said.

We then moved to the RPG-7 rocket launcher. Each received only one shot. I bend down on one knee, and held the launcher on my shoulder. A corporal loaded the rocket, pulled the safety pin, and tapped me on the battled helmet, which was the signal that I could fire. I took careful aim at the car wreck and pulled the trigger.

With a loud, "Ssshhh," sound, the rocket left the launcher and picked up speed towards the target. The rocket hit the wreck towards the back, and the loud explosion was followed by cheers from the guys in my squad. I was only the second person to hit the target.

"Oh yes, I want one of those," Rex said.

Trevor snorted. "I don't know why. Your shot flew harmlessly over the target and exploded halfway up that hill."

"I just need more practice," Rex said stubbornly.

The patrol mortar waited for us on our next stop. For that we had to work in pairs, one to hold the tube, and the other to drop the mortar down the pipe. Rex and I formed a pair. He aimed the tube first, lining it up to the target, choosing the correct elevation.

When he gave the all clear, I lifted a mortar from the plastic container, removed the safety pin, twisted the front end to arm it, and dropped it down the pipe. It made a loud pop sound when the mortar hit the firing pin at the base of the tube, and then it was propelled high into the air. The projectile exploded a hundred meters past the target.

Rex adjusted the elevation, and I dropped the second mortar. This time it exploded next to the target in a bright flash, spewing debris all over the wreck.

"Oh yeah baby. That's what I'm talking about," Rex yelled with delight.

I laughed and said, "Yeah, I know. You'll be getting one of these."

I took control of the tube, but both my shots missed the target. The first also landed long, but my second fell well short of the target. It took a lot of practice to fire the patrol mortar with any degree of accuracy.

The snot-nose grenade launcher was next on our list. We each got three shots and the ease at which the weapon operated and fired, came as a surprise. Once you got used to it, the weapon was amazingly accurate. We were warned to handle the 40mm grenades with care, as they were known to be unstable. If it was meant as a scare tactic by the corporals, it worked. We handled each grenade with a lot of care.

Next, we moved to the LMG, or light machine gun, probably the infantry's best weapon outside the Ratel. Again we had to operate it in pairs, one to load and fire it, and one to feed the ammo belt.

Rex and I paired again, but this time, I shot first. Rex handed me the end of the belt. I lifted the loading flap, placed the belt in position and clipped the flap shut. I pulled the cocking mechanism back, and the weapon was ready to fire.

I was on my belly with the stock of the gun firmly pressed against my shoulder. My right hand held the grip, with my right finger on the trigger. My left hand held the top of the stock, securing it to my shoulder, while the front of the gun rested on a bi-pod.

When ready, the corporal gave the command and I squeezed the trigger. The initial burst only lasted a second, but several bullets screamed down the hollow towards the old wreck in my sights.

"Fucking hell," I said in surprise. That was serious firepower.

The ammunition belt was loaded in such a way that every fourth bullet was a tracer. That meant if you fire it, it marked a clear trail through the air to help you direct your fire at the target. It only took a few seconds to finish my belt, and I stared in awe when the string of bullets slammed into the wreck.

Reluctantly I changed positions with Rex. When he pulled the trigger, I heard him laugh in delight. Too quickly the fun was over and we had to do a clean-up of the area where the linkage and the spent cartridges fell.

"I'm definitely getting me one of those," Rex said with big eyes.

"To do what with?" I asked.

The ten kilogram gun was not only quite heavy to carry around, but also bulky and awkward. Rex didn't care about that, he wanted one.

As our day came to a close, we had to do a thorough cleanup of all spent ammunition casings. Later, a special unit would comb the area to collect all the rockets that didn't explode on impact, and destroyed it in a controlled demolition.

On our way back to the base, we couldn't stop talking about the weapons we fired that day. In our time in the army, we had many bad memories, but that day, was a good one.

### Chapter 9

When I woke up that morning, I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. With everyone in the bungalow still fast asleep, I grabbed my shaving kit and made my way to the bathroom. By the time Corporal Danson blew on his whistle, my bed was made, my boots shined, and I stood dressed, ready for the day.

Rex looked at me through sleepy eyes. "When did you get up?"

"About an hour ago," I said.

He frowned, but didn't say anything.

"The Samils leave at 07:00, so make sure you're on one," Corporal Danson said.

"Do you think we're going to do more shooting," Trevor asked.

"I have no idea," I answered.

Rex waited till we were alone then asked, "Chris, are you alright?"

I shook my head. "Rex, I don't know. I have this weird feeling something bad is about to happen."

Rex stared at me wide eyed. "To one of us?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, but I'm probably being silly." My forced smile didn't fool Rex.

On the trip to De Brug I didn't say much, but listened to Rex and Trevor speculating as to what they had in store for us that day. They didn't guess correctly, not even close. We went to an area of De Brug, well out of the way from where we normally did any shooting.

We stopped in a clearing and jumped of the trucks and lined up in formation. Various structures were scattered around the area and my heart sank to my shoes when I realized they were obstacles.

Corporal Lewis confirmed my fears. "Boys, today we're doing an advanced obstacle course. The obstacles are set up along a track, and everyone in your section has to pass the obstacle before moving onto the next one."

Rex and I had full use of our arms, and my back healed. We divided into our usual groups and a corporal called our section forward. We were first and I could only hope our first obstacle didn't involve water. It was still too early and cold to get wet.

The corporal informed us that the second section would follow ten minutes later. He blew on his whistle and we set off on the marked path. A hundred meters through the trees, we arrived at our first obstacle. Two raised platforms, ten meters apart, with a rope that dangled down the middle, our first challenge. We lined up on the nearside platform.

"The objective is to get the entire squad across the gap, but nobody's allowed to touch the ground. You have ten minutes to figure it out and make it across," the supervising corporal said.

We looked at each other and at first glance, it appeared to be an impossible task.

"I'm sure we have to use the rope to get over, but how do we get it? Can any of you jump that far?" Manny asked.

To make that jump would require serious athletic skills, which none of us possessed. I stared at the rope, tied to a beam high above, with no way to reach it from the top. The rope had a knot tied into it half a meter above the ground.

"We need to find a way to grab that rope. If we can hook it with something and pull it here, we can swing across," I said, but we had nothing long enough.

"How about we hook our gun belts together to form a rope?" Trevor said.

"That might work, but we still need a hook," I answered.

"Can we use boot for a hook?" Dirk asked.

"It is worth a try," I said.

We linked our gun belts and tied one of Manny's boots to the end. He had the biggest feet and volunteered one of his shoes. It took a few tries to hook our makeshift gadget around the rope, but we soon faced another problem. We pulled the rope halfway towards us, and then the boot would slip.

"We'll never get it over here," Dirk groaned.

"Chris, pull it halfway like before and hold it there. It will be close enough. I can jump and grab the rope," Anton said.

I did as Anton suggested and held the rope in position. Anton stepped back as far as he could, then ran forward and jumped. He sailed through the air and grabbed the rope. As he hit, the boot-hook released, but Anton managed to hold on. He used the knot as a foot hold and started to swing back and forth. With every swing he managed to gain momentum, until I was able to grab on.

"Two minutes left," the corporal said, looking at his stop watch.

Anton swung over to the other side, and flung the rope back, which I caught comfortably. One by one the squad swung to the other side, leaving me for last. Manny flicked the rope back and I caught it with both hands. I took two steps back, ran forward and sailed through the air. On the other side, Manny and Trevor caught the rope and I stepped onto the platform.

The corporal smiled with the stopwatch in his hand, then made a note on his clipboard. We set off down the path as the next section arrived at the obstacle we just cleared.

The next challenge was designed to test our resolve. We had to crawl through a steel pipe with several zigzag turns. The pipe was a tight squeeze, and for Manny's big build, proved even more of a challenge.

The Greer twins entered the tunnel first. Their slender build proved no problem. When my turn arrived, I took a deep breath. I never liked confined spaces, but there was no way to get away from what had to be done. I dropped onto my belly and leopard crawled into the pipe. As luck would have it, I ended up behind Manny.

Around the second bent, my battle helmet hit his boots.

"Come on, Manny, move. I don't like it in here," I said.

"I'm fucking stuck," Manny said with a hint of panic in his voice.

It took all my self control to remain calm. "Can you turn onto your side?" I asked.

In the dark, Manny tried moving his body. "Chris, I think I'm caught on something."

Rex bumped into my boots. "Rex, back up a bit, Manny's stuck. I'll try to help him, but don't push from behind, or you might lose a few teeth."

I tapped Manny on the foot. "Open your legs as wide as you can. I'll slide in as close as possible and see if I can set you free."

A groan was the only answer I got, but Manny spread his legs as far apart as the confined space would allow. I left my rifle behind, and slid forward in between his legs. When I couldn't go any further, I reached forward and felt around the top of the pipe. Manny's webbing snagged on something at the top, and I worked it lose.

I moved back to retrieve my rifle and said, "Ok, Manny, go!"

A minute later I crawled out of the pipe, happy to see sunlight again. The rest of the squad made it through without any trouble. We ran down the path towards our next challenge, a wooden and rope structure built across a small stream.

The obstacle was quite similar to the one from which I fell the previous week. I climbed up the ropes and pulled myself onto the cross beam. Having full use of my arms made the task a lot easier. I walked across the beam and hung on to the rope overhead, but soon found that rope unstable. It was more of a hindrance than a help, and I balanced on the log instead of using the rope.

Before I could warn Rex, he yelled behind me. His feet were still on the log and he hung on to the rope, but he was completely sideways.

"Ah shit, no!" Rex shouted before he let go and splashed into the stream below.

"Balance on the beam, don't use the rope," I said.

"Now you fucking tell me!" Rex said as he made his way up the bank to tackle the obstacle again. On his second attempt, he made it safely across, and we ran up a small hill.

Rex made a slosh-slosh sound as he ran, water still dripping from his clothes.

"You sound like a water bottle," Trevor said.

"Fuck off," Rex replied.

We arrived at the next obstacle, a ten meter high structure build like an A, the left side, a web of rope that we had to climb. Once we made it to the top, had to work our way down horizontal beams, placed like steps on the other side, half a meter apart, making it awkward.

I noticed a medical Unimog parked under the trees fifty meters away.

I pointed to the vehicle. "Looks like they expect trouble on this one, so everyone, be careful."

Climbing up the rope wasn't too difficult, but working my way down the other side proved quite a challenge. Once I figured out to climb down backwards, it made the task easier. The other's followed my lead, and we all made it down safely, without breaking anything. The medic under the tree actually looked disappointed.

Our path towards our next challenge took a downward turn and we worked our way back to the stream. Corporal Danson waited at our next obstacle.

A huge log, at least a meter in diameter, lay across the ten meter gap. We had to cross the log to continue our journey. Normally, although it would take some balancing, it wouldn't have been much of a problem. But Corporal A-hole decided that crossing a dry beam was no fun, so he covered it with water.

We looked at each other, trying to work out who would cross first.

"I'll go," I said and slung my rifle across my back.

I put a foot on the beam, testing the conditions, and immediately felt that the water made the log more slippery than a wet frog. I put one foot in front of the other, carefully made my way forward, but on my fifth step, my boot slipped.

Before I could even steady myself, my legs gave way, and my bum hit the beam before I bounced into the mud. A two meter fall could hurt, but the soft mud acted like a cushion and absorbed most of my weight. Of course, this left me covered from head to toe in brown mud.

"Dempsey, are you ok? Do you need a medic?" the corporal asked through fits of laughter.

I gave him a, "fuck off," look, but said, "I'm alright, Corporal."

Before I managed to work my way up the bank, Rex and Trevor both landed in the mud pit. I joined the back of the queue, and watched as, one by one, the rest of our squad took a tumble.

When I reached the front of the queue again, I realized that it would be impossible to cross the beam on foot. Getting down on my hands and knees, I slowly made my way forward.

The corporal yelled, "Ah come on Dempsey, don't be a wimp. Cross the log like a man."

I ignored him and inched my way to the other side. The rest of the squad watched with great interest, and when I reached dry land, they cheered. They followed me over and the corporal shook his head while making notes on his clipboard. I didn't care what he wrote. My way might not have looked good, or heroic, but it worked. There were enough guys after us that could provide amusement.

The marked path followed the stream and two hundred meters further, we arrived at our last challenge. The corporals used the stream as a base, and setup several pipes and logs for us to crawl over and under.

"Ah shit!" Rex said at the sight of the obstacles.

After both Rex and Eric nearly drowned in the river during Vasbyt, they had a healthy fear for water.

"Relax guys," I said. "This will be more dirty than wet. The water is not that deep."

We formed a line and I led the way. At the start of the obstacle I got down on my belly and crawled forward, underneath a log, then over the next one. The ice-cold water seeped through my clothes, but washed some of the mud from my body.

The last part of the obstacle proved the most troublesome. They setup barb-wire just above the surface of the water, which meant we had to crawl three meters under muddy water. The water was only knee-deep, which meant I had to stay low.

I filled my lungs with oxygen, and then disappeared under the water. The moment my head went under, everything went silent. Because of the dirty water, I didn't dare to open my eyes, and felt my way ahead. The bottom of the trench was smooth, worked by hundreds of bodies that past there before us. We were not the first that had to endure the dirty water, and wouldn't be the last.

With no sight or sound, I had no idea how far I crawled, but kept going until my lungs protested and I had to come up for air. After I wiped the muddy water from my eyes, I was two meters clear of the barb-wire. My boots, ears, rifle, everything was filled with cold water and mud. I even emptied mud from my pockets.

When I made my way out of the trench, I watch Anton Greer came up for air, spitting water and mud. I positioned myself at the end of the barb-wire, and as the guys came crawling through, I tapped them on the helmets to indicate that they were clear of the obstacle.

It was almost an hour later before the last section finished the obstacle track and we were loaded back onto the Samils and headed back to the base. We were allowed to shower and get cleaned.

Trevor started it. He jumped into the shower fully clothed, with his rifle. Rex and I looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders and followed his example. Of course, if a corporal caught us with our weapons in the shower, we would have been in serious trouble. But Manny kept watch while we got cleaned, before we did the same for him.

I was busy cleaning and oiling my rifle, when a lance corporal working in the admin office called me. Captain Rawlings wanted to see me. I assembled my rifle, dressed in fresh clothes and clean boots and marched into the Captain's office. Captain Rawlings carved an impressive figure behind his desk.

I came to halt and threw a crisp salute. "Rifleman Dempsey reporting as ordered, Sir!"

Only then did I notice the second man in the office, a short man with a troubled look on his face.

"Rifleman Dempsey, this is Lieutenant Meyer, our base chaplain."

My heart started to race and I swallowed hard.

The man looked at me with sympathy. "Rifleman Dempsey, I'm sorry to inform you, your grandmother had passed away."

### Chapter 10

The fresh morning breeze tugged at my face when I presented my pass to the guard and walked through the big black gates of the base. It felt so unreal. The previous afternoon when I received the news that my grandmother had passed away, I stared at the chaplain in shock. I visited my grandmother a few months before, and she looked healthy.

After I left the captain's office, I went to the payphone and phoned my mother. The captain gave me two days to attend my grandmother's funeral. My mother had to leave home at 03:00 to pick me up at 06:00.

It was still dark, and my mother's silver Audi shimmered in the yellow of the base's security lights. I walked over, dropped my bag, and then my mother and I clung to each other. A few wordless moments passed without the need to say anything, but her silent tears soaked my jacket.

"We better get going if we want to beat the traffic," she said.

I wiped a tear from my cheek, nodded, and loaded my bag onto the backseat.

When we hit the highway, my mother said, "I told Charlotte what happened. She's waiting at the house. She didn't want to come along, said she wanted to give us time alone. That's awfully nice of her."

I nodded. My mind was still numb. Not much was said on our trip home. We were almost in Johannesburg when she turned to me.

"Your cousin arrived last night. He also got leave to attend the funeral."

My cousin Fred and I started basics together. While I went to the army, he got called to the air force and was based at Valhalla in Pretoria. This would be the first time we saw each other since my birthday party, the night before I left.

When we arrived home, several cars were parked in the street in front of our house. Family I hadn't seen in years arrived for the funeral. I was never a big fan of funerals, and would rather crawl around in a mud pit, but I had to say goodbye to my grandmother.

"Well, they almost managed to turn you into a soldier," Fred said behind me. I turned around, and there he stood in his fancy blue Air Force uniform.

"Yeah, look at you, Mr. Fancy pants," I said.

Fred and I grew up together, and he was always more like a brother to me than a cousin. I took two steps, and then we embraced.

"I'm glad they let you out," Fred said.

"Yeah, me too. You don't have any issues getting a pass?" I asked.

Fred shook his head. "Since basics, I'm home every weekend."

"Lucky bugger."

"Chris!" I heard Charlotte shout, and barely had time to turn around before she jumped into my arms. Dressed in a lilac dress and clutching a small, white purse, she was a picture of elegance.

"I'm glad you're here, but aren't you supposed to be in college?" I asked.

She nodded, "Yes, but I ditched. Today, I'll rather be by your side."

I hugged her tight and whispered in her ear, "Thank you my love."

We still greeted when my father came in and said that it was time to go.

Charlotte and I rode with my uncle Gavin, while Fred caught a ride with his parents.

Our first stop was the funeral parlor. They had a place where they displayed the open coffin for the family to say their last goodbyes. I looked at Fred, and neither of us was keen to see Grandma that way.

Everyone else already visited when my mother called, "Come, Chris, it's your turn."

I would rather not have a turn, but didn't want to be disrespectful. I removed my beret before we entered the room, and my mom escorted me to the coffin. Grandma looked just the way I remembered, so peaceful, like she was asleep. I half expected her to open her eyes and asked me how life treated me.

A tear rolled down my cheek and I swallowed hard, struggling to keep my composure. I was now a soldier and expected to stay strong, or so I thought.

I touched the top of the coffin. "Goodbye, Grams. I'll miss you."

I wiped away another stubborn tear, before I replaced my beret. I didn't care who watched, but at that moment I only wanted to pay my grams the proper respect she deserved. I came to attention. The loud bang echoed through the parlor when I slammed my boot down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my mother jerk. It took her a moment, but she understood. In a crisp movement, I brought my arm up, and saluted my grandmother. I held the salute for about three seconds, before I lowered my arm in another swift motion. Without another word, I did an about face, and marched out of the parlor.

Our next stop was at the church. In the army we had to attend church every Sunday morning, but more times than not, it was a time used to catch up on lost sleep. I think the preacher realized that too, because he didn't say much.

Sitting in the church for my grandmother's funeral though, I had to stay awake. I heard the preacher in the background, but concentrated on Charlotte's delicate hand that rested in mine. My mind drifted back to the base, and I thought of Rex that sat through a lesson at the moment, or maybe he had to run around our favorite tree.

Fred and I were asked to help carry the coffin from the church to the hearse. When the service was over, we lined up with a few other cousins. The family formed a line from the door to the hearse and we carried the casket to the waiting vehicle. Near the car, Fred stumbled.

"Fred, don't drop grandma. She'll come and haunt you," Cousin Joe said from behind him.

Fred and I looked at each other and we both smirked, but I quickly wiped it from my face when I saw my mother's disapproving stare. Once loaded, the hearse led the long procession of cars to the cemetery.

After grandma was laid to rest, everyone made it back to our house for reminiscence. After all the crying and tears at the gravesite, people now smiled again. It would be without grandma, but life goes on.

I didn't even know half the people that gathered at the house. Fred, Charlotte and me excused ourselves and kept to the back. While the rest of the family talked about grandma's life, Fred and I compared military stories.

We soon found that basic training in the Air Force compared to training in the Army. Same shit at inspections, and same asshole corporals. The big difference came after training. Fred had none of the physical exertion I had during our three day endurance march, or the obstacle training, or weapons training. After basics his path led into a different direction, while the army trained me for combat.

"When are you due back at your base?" Fred asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon at five. My mom said she would drive me back." I gazed at Charlotte. "You busy tomorrow?"

She nodded. "I already ditched today. Another day might get me in trouble."

I was disappointed but understood. Before military service, I doubt I would have been that understanding.

Later, after a quick goodbye, Fred left with his parents. For the first time since I arrived that morning, Charlotte and I were alone.

"I missed you my soldier," she said as she snuggled against my chest.

"Will you spend the night?" I asked.

The fire in her eyes mirrored my own. "Yes, but I have to go home first," she said.

"Let me change into civvie clothes, and then I'll walk you home."

Charlotte shook her head and pouted her mouth. "Do you have to?"

"No, but I want to walk you," I answered as innocent as the day I was born.

She smacked my arm. "That's not what I'm talking about."

I laughed. "Yes, I know. I don't have to, but don't tell me you only like me for my uniform?"

She kissed me. "No, but you do look damn good in it."

Charlotte stayed within walking distance from our house, and although the late afternoon air cooled, I enjoyed the stroll with her. We walked hand in hand, and I walked proud in my brown military uniform. All along the way we turned heads.

A young couple approached from the front. The girl, in her early twenties, hung on the arm of the guy. His long hair was cut into a mullet. From his demeanor, and lack of pride in his personal appearance, I could tell that he never saw the inside of an army base.

As we walked past, the girl gave me a shy glance and smiled. The guy was annoyed, but not about to say anything to a soldier. Charlotte pinched my arm.

I laughed out loud and said, "Hey, you insisted I wear the uniform."

She grabbed a tighter hold of my arm. "Yes, I know, but you don't have to enjoy the attention so much."

She had a point. I did enjoy the stares and the looks. I wore the uniform with pride, and knew what it represented. If it wasn't for the uniform, most of those people that stared, wouldn't have given me a second glance. I understood why the corporals drilled it into us to take care in our appearance. In uniform, we not only represented ourselves, but also our unit, the army, and ultimately, our country.

Charlotte's mother was happy to see me, but the smile quickly turned to sympathy.

"I'm so sorry about your grandmother," she said, and proceeded to give me a hug. I was always treated like a family member at Charlotte's house, even during our brief breakup when Charlotte dated someone else.

While I waited for Charlotte to grab a few things, I shared with her mother some amusing stories of army life. When Charlotte emerged with an overnight bag, her mother stared at me intently. I shuffled my feet uncomfortably, expecting a sermon about sleeping with her daughter, but instead, she took my cheeks between her hands and kissed me on my mouth.

"Chris, take care and make sure you come home in one piece."

Mrs. Brown's heartfelt goodbye touched me.

"My mom really likes you," Charlotte said when we left her house.

I gave a nervous laugh and said, "I'm glad. It would be quite unpleasant if she didn't like her future son-in-law."

For a moment Charlotte was stumped. "Huh?"

I held my composure and kept walking, but Charlotte came to a dead stop.

"Chris Dempsey, did you just ask me to marry you?" she asked, her voice more anxious than I hoped.

Staring into her bewildered, brown eyes, my heart thumped in my chest.

I shook my head. "No, not exactly." Was that disappointment or relief in her eyes?

I smiled. "Charlotte, I care for you, and yes, I do love you. There are, however, a few complications. I have no idea what the next two years will bring, or how much time we would spend apart. But know this, if our relationship survives my time in the military, I plan to get a steady job, and then I want to marry you."

Charlotte touched the side of my face, her fingers sliding gently down my cheek, before she pulled my head down and kissed me with such passion, that it left my legs trembling.

"So what do we do until then?" she asked.

I stared into her eyes, and a thousand little devils danced in them.

"How about we enjoy each other's company when we do have the chance to get together?" I asked.

She hugged me again and said, "That'll work for me." That night we spent a memorable evening together.

At breakfast, my mother informed me that we would be leaving for Bloemfontein at noon because she didn't want to return too late. After the time we spent together, it was difficult to say goodbye to Charlotte, but I had happy memories to take with me back to the base.

"You look tired, didn't you sleep last night?" my mother asked as we passed Johannesburg.

I looked into my mother's eyes, and noticed the slight smile, which caused me to blush a bright shade of pink.

"Not much," I managed to mumble.

Thankfully, she didn't ask any questions. I still got used to the grownup things in my life, and didn't feel comfortable discussing them with my mother.

"Please thank your Captain for me. It was awfully kind of him to give you permission to come to the funeral," she said after a while.

I frowned. "Eh, sure," I answered, but there was no way. I would be laughed off the base if I did that. Mother obviously had no idea of military protocol.

It was cloudy and cold when my mother dropped me off at the main gate. I grabbed my bag from the back seat, and stared into her eyes, where sadness still lingered. She lost her mother, and I knew that someday, I would have to face losing her.

I dropped my bag and grabbed her in a tight hug. "I love you, Mom."

She hugged me back. "What did I do to deserve this?" she asked, surprised.

I let her go, cupped her face in my hands, and kissed the top of her head. "Nothing. Thanks for driving me. Have a safe trip home."

A tear dripped down onto her cheek. I wiped it away, grasped my bag, and made for the gate, where the guards observed our goodbye.

She stood and watched until I disappeared behind the black gates, before she took off. The bungalow was empty when I entered. I changed my clothes and stored the rest of my stuff. For a moment, I felt all alone in the empty building, and the sensation scared me. I took a deep breath, and then went to search for my platoon.

### Chapter 11

The army had a way to welcome you back with open arms when you were out of the base for any length of time. That Friday morning was no different. Corporal Danson decided to test our drill skills and put us through a series of drills. Of course, nothing was to his satisfaction.

This resulted in frequent trips around our favorite tree, often with rifles held above our heads. The trouble was not that we had to run, but that everything was directed at me. Every time someone did something wrong, Corporal Danson said, "Let's welcome Dempsey back with a run around the tree," or as we returned from a run, "This is more fun than civvie life. Welcome back, Dempsey."

Of course it didn't take long before some of the guys directed their frustrations at me. After another exhausting run, Derrick Green, a heavily built guy, known for his quick temper, grabbed my arm.

"Thanks a fucking lot, Dempsey."

I stared at him and pulled my arm away. "You seriously think this is my fault?"

"Derrick, don't be a fucking idiot. You know very well Chris had nothing to do with this." Manny said. Derrick glared at Manny, but they were roughly the same size. Derrick Green liked to pick on guys smaller than him, but backed off when he saw that someone was not about to be bullied.

The Corporal noticed the tension, and I caught a glimpse of a slight smile. The asshole intentionally tried to cause conflict within the platoon, and he succeeded. After training for the day was done, Rex and I walked to our bungalow to lock away our weapons, before we joined the rest of our friends in the canteen for a beer.

We passed between the two bungalows, and there Derrick Green waited for me. I had no desire for a confrontation with the guy, which was build like a young gorilla. I didn't even make eye contact with him, and tried to step around him, but he took a step sideways, and shouldered me into the side of the building.

"You should fucking look where you walk," he growled.

I stumbled to my feet and knew I was in trouble. Derrick wanted a fight, but I wasn't about to give him one.

I held my hands in front of me. "Derrick, I don't want to fight."

He sneered at me. "Yeah, that's because you're a fucking coward."

The challenge was clear in his voice, but I shook my head. "Take it any way you want, but you know I'm no match for you in a fight. I'm not crazy enough to try."

Only then did I notice his three buddies waiting around the corner. They were all from Derrick's bungalow. I looked around for Rex, but he had disappeared. Without a word, I turned and tried to walk away, but Derrick grabbed my arm and spun me around.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, you little punk," he said. His voice sounded like the growl of a hungry lion.

Before I could blink, his huge hand connected with the side of my face. The force of the blow sent me crashing into the building. I tried to get back to my feet, but my senses were dulled, and my body refused to cooperate.

In the distance I heard their mocking laughs. I managed to work my body where I got to my knees, and realized I could not get away from the bully. The only way out, was to take him on.

I took two deep breaths, and my vision cleared. When Derrick took a step towards me, I charged in, and the bony part of my shoulder connected with his solar plexus. He made a hollow groan as all air was forced from his chest. Together we crashed into the opposite wall, Derrick's body breaking my fall.

Before he could recover, my fists pounded his head. He wrapped his arms around his head and curled into a ball to protect himself. One of his buddies grabbed me from behind and jerked me back, holding on to my arms, while the other two landed several blows to my body.

The next moment chaos erupted. Out of nowhere, George and Rex flew around the corner and tackled the two that hit me. Frik and Charlie grabbed the guy that held my arms, and pushed him away. He hit the ground with a dull thud.

More and more people from both bungalows joined the fight. We knew who was in our bungalow, so we hit everyone else. A few times Rex and I had to redirect George when he grabbed one of our guys.

"Stop, he's one of ours," or, "George, he's on our side."

For a few moments there was absolute mayhem. It was us against them. Bungalow one against bungalow two, until a loud voice filled with authority thundered through the noise.

"What the fuck's going on here?"

Everyone froze. For a moment, absolute silence surrounded us. Then George let go of the guy he grabbed, and the body crashed to the ground in a puff of dust.

Sergeant Major Wise glared at us. His handlebar moustache flopped up and down in the early evening breeze.

"Line up in formation," he said with a soft voice filled with an underlying menace. He had a voice that could fill you with fear, even when it was only a whisper.

We scurried into platoon formation, and I realized that George, Charlie and Frik, lined up next to me.

"You are supposed to be 1 SAI's pride, but look at you, brawling like a bunch of street thugs. A good example you set for all the rest."

He looked the platoon over for a moment, then planted his feet in front of me and stared into my eyes.

"Who started this?" he asked.

I swallowed hard. "I don't know, Sergeant Major."

He swung his gaze to Derrick and asked, "How about you? Do you know what started this?"

Derrick shook his head, but in that moment we both knew that he saw what happened.

Corporals Danson and Lewis came running and executed a perfect halt. Their jaws dropped when they saw our faces. Several eyes were already swollen shut, bloodied noses, busted lips, faces full of cuts and scrapes.

Sergeant Major Wise looked the corporals over. "Sort them out," he said, turned and walked away.

The corporals waited till he was out of earshot.

"Did you all lose your fucking minds?" Corporal Lewis asked. But nobody answered.

Corporal Danson glared at us, and then his gaze settled on Frik. "Aren't you the chef?"

Frik nodded.

"So what the hell are you doing here?" the corporal asked.

Frik looked at me, had a slight smile, and said, "I visited a friend and got caught in the chaos. The Sergeant Major ordered everyone into formation."

The corporals looked at each other, and I could see their minds working. They were not about to mess with someone who prepared their daily food.

"Get the fuck out of here," Corporal Lewis ordered.

Frik, George and Charlie stepped forward. Corporal Danson frowned.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Charlie pointed towards Frik. "We're with him, Corporal." Before either Corporal could say anything, the trio disappeared around the corner.

Corporal Danson stared at me intently. "You're friends with the chef?"

I looked at Rex and tried my best to hide a smile. "Frik is my best friend, Corporal." I answered, laying it on thick.

Corporal Danson paled a little, and from somewhere behind me I heard a muttered, "Oh shit." Probably one of Derrick Green's buddies who had a vision of severely reduced portions came dinner time.

The corporals stepped to the side, discussing what to do with us. Corporal Danson suspected that I was involved in the initial ruckus, but in light of recent events, would never target me directly ever again. Of course, that he was the instigator of the trouble in the first place, never crossed his mind. Most of the guys were already in PT clothes and flip-flops.

"You have five minutes to dress in overalls and report back here. And make sure the rest of the platoon join you. Move!" Corporal Danson shouted.

The majority of the platoon was involved in the fight, but quite a few only observed, or were not present. But if we have learned one thing in the military, was that if one fucked up, everybody paid.

Five minutes later we lined up in formation, dressed in overalls, boots, bush hats, and with our rifles by our sides. For a warm-up, we ran around the tree with our rifles held above our heads. As if that was not torture enough, we had to team up with a buddy. Rex and I were of similar build, so we always made sure when it came to buddy PT, that we had each other.

For our next exercise, we had to carry our buddies around the tree. At all times someone had to be carried.

"The last ten will go again," Corporal Danson said.

I grabbed Rex, flung him over my shoulder like a sack of flour, and set off for the tree in the distance. The corporal always made everyone run again. The last ten threat only a way to get us to run faster. Nobody wanted to be in the last group, just in case. After about a hundred meters, my legs were like rubber.

"Change," I said and dropped Rex. It was my turn to ride over his shoulders. For the next hour we had to endure various forms of torture, it was like basics all over again. Not the way we intended to spend our Friday evening.

Word spread through the platoon what started the fight, and for the next few weeks, Derrick and his friends were the most hated people in the base, even within their own bungalow. But we were all one platoon, and whatever animosity we felt towards each other, when it came to doing tasks, it was quickly forgotten and we had to work together.

It was well after dark when Rex and I joined our friends in the canteen. Friday evenings the canteen was packed. Our friends secured our usual spot in the back corner, and I had to laugh when Rex and I walked up to the table.

"Well, aren't you a sorry looking bunch," I said.

Charlie groaned and said, "You don't look so good either."

Frik sat with a busted lip that was at least double its usual size. George's face was covered with scratch marks, like he had been clawed by a cat. Charlie's left eye was swollen shut. He held a cold beer against the puffy, red and blue flesh.

My own appearance was not much better. I had a blue welt under my right eye and several visible bruises on my chin. My ribs were covered with bumps and quite tender.

George pointed at Rex and asked, "How on earth did you manage to get through that fight unscathed?"

Rex took a sip from his beer and shrugged. "I hit them before they hit me."

Frik shook his head. "You swung your arms like a madman. Everyone was too scared to get near you. If you connected with one of those haymakers, it would have been straight to the medics with them."

I took my seat and cracked my beer. "How did you three get there so fast?"

Frik pointed at Rex. "We stood in the queue when he came running and said that you were in trouble."

"Oh, so that's why you disappeared in such a hurry. When Derrick started his shit, I looked around and you were gone. " I said.

"Yeah, I saw what that gorilla and his buddies were up to, so I thought I better fetch our own gorilla."

George flashed a grin. "Always a pleasure."

I swallowed hard at the lump in my throat. My friends heard I was in trouble, and without a second thought, they rushed to my assistance. Even little Charlie didn't think twice. As an individual, I was vulnerable, but as a group, we stood strong, very much like a military unit.

I raised my beer. "Thanks, guys." They all raised their beers and we held them high in salute in the centre of the table.

"That's what friends are for," Charlie said.

"Well, after tonight I doubt that they will hassle you two again. They now know you have backup," Frik said.

"Well, if nothing else, they'll be scared that Frik will poison their food," George said and winked at our chef-friend.

For the rest of the evening we discussed the fight in great detail. One subject they avoided completely was my trip home. It was not the right time to discuss my grandmother's death. That discussion would happen the following night when there was less excitement.

After being a loner most of my time at school, I liked the new direction my life took. I had a steady girlfriend, and friends I could count on, and not only my tight circle of immediate friends, but also my new friends. Trevor, Manny, Eric and the rest didn't hesitate to come to my assistance.

The following morning, our bungalow was full of sore bodies. Rex and I passed around a pot of stinky salve that healed all wounds. We had a standing order with Charlie's grandmother, who made the stuff on her farm.

Not sure what was in the salve, but it stunk, and it worked. By Sunday evening, even the swelling around Charlie's eye went down, and he could see where to aim his canon. He informed us they would be going to De Brug that coming week for their first live shoot. Come Monday morning, the battle scars of everyone who used the smelly, sticky green ointment, were less visible.

The animosity between the people of the two bungalows that were on the Section Leaders program died down quickly. We all had a task at hand and there was no time for personal vendettas.

Besides, the corporals made sure they kept us so busy with military matters, that we had little time for anything else. Sunday evening, after the lights went out, I lay in my bed with my hands behind my head and stared at the ceiling, reflecting on the past week.

It sure was a week filled with challenges, excitement, sadness and everything in-between. What the new week would bring, I could only guess, but there was rarely a dull moment in all my time in the military. Turning onto my side, I gave a deep sigh, and drifted off to sleep.

### Chapter 12

With the start of our third week of Section Leading training, Corporal Danson increased his inspections. It was like basics all over again. Every morning we stood a full inspection with all the trimmings.

It was hard work and we had to come up with a plan to make it easier on ourselves. We only lived on one side of the bungalow and kept that side military perfect. On the other side were beds and cabinets, but nothing else. So we each grabbed one of the unoccupied beds and slept there in our sleeping bags. In the morning, I rolled up my sleeping bag, packed it away neatly, and once I got dressed, was ready for inspection, with a lot less hassle.

Of course, we had to make sure the corporal didn't catch us, or there would have been hell to pay. Luckily for us, we had a guy in our bungalow that woke up early every morning. Jakes Jacobs grew up on a farm, and got up long before sunrise every morning. He woke us before the corporal arrived with his annoying whistle, and we could remove the evidence of our camp-out.

We carried on with training in platoon weapons, but not simply how to shoot them. Taking them apart, cleaning them, maintaining them, and how to handle them safely was the priority. In our first session of the day, we sat for a safety exam on the weapon we covered the previous day.

These lesson were not only to test our knowledge, but counted towards our pass mark of the entire program.

"Shit, and I thought I was done with school and exams," Rex moaned after our first exam.

"Yeah, only this is much tougher than school," Trevor said.

Failure was not an option. Not only was our pass mark at eighty percent, not knowing the proper workings of the weapons could cost somebody their life in the near future.

Corporal Lewis pointed that out frequently.

"Pay attention sonny boy, your life may depend on this weapon when Swapo tries to kill you."

If we had a thought that those were only toys, they were quickly wiped from our minds. Quite a sobering experience when you realize your life, and the lives of everyone in your section, could depend on your knowledge, or the lack of it.

One morning, Corporal Lewis talked again about how Swapo would get us if we don't pay attention, when Manny asked, "Corporal, who is this Swapo?"

Corporal Lewis stared at Manny for a moment, then looked at our faces and saw we all wanted to know.

"Swapo, or South West Africa People's Organization, is our main enemy on the border between South West Africa and Angola. They will shoot you on sight, so we'll train you to shoot them before they shoot you."

The thought of killing another human being, shocked and overwhelmed me, but that is what they trained us to do. We were the last defense, the last stand between the enemy and our friends and families.

It didn't take any more convincing for us to take our training more serious. Thursday morning we were loaded onto the trucks, and drove out to the same firing area we visited the week before.

"Ah, more shooting," Rex said with stars in his eyes.

Trevor looked at Rex and then at me with a frown on his face. I shrugged, but I had that some expression on my face ever since I met my trigger happy friend.

"Ok listen up," Corporal Lewis said. "This is not an ordinary exercise, it is an evaluation. We want to see that you can correctly handle these weapons. There are only two marks, pass and fail. I suggest you don't fail."

Doing something for fun or the hell of it is easy. Having to do something and you know you will be tested and measured, puts you in a different frame of mind. We were divided into our usual sections and assigned to an area. Our first test was the RPG-7.

Manny was the first to shoot the Russian made rocket launcher. We had to stand well clear to the side, as not to get caught in the back blast when the rocket fired. He was nervous and his first attempt flew well wide of the target, the shot-up wreck of an old car. His second shot was on line, but too high, and cleared the target with several meters to spare. The grenade exploded at nine hundred meters, well above the ground.

The corporal called the names according to a list on his clipboard, and called my name next. My hands trembled when I took the launcher from Manny. I bent on one knee, and assumed the firing position. The launcher rested on my right shoulder, and I had my left hand on the back grip, while my right hand held the front grip, with my trigger finger on the trigger guard.

Corporal Lewis loaded the rocket, pulled the safety pin, and tapped me on my battle helmet, my signal that I could fire. I lined the target in the optical sights, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger.

Because I was nervous, I jerked the trigger rather than squeezed it, which pulled my aim right. The rocket ignited and left the launcher. I could feel the heat of the back-blast behind me. If anybody stood at my back, they would be blasted away by the force.

A fraction of a second later, the rocket fired and the missile picked up speed towards the target, but flew a few meters past to the right. The RPG-7 rocket is designed to self-destruct after nine hundred meters, and I watched as it exploded centimeters above the ground. Dust and rocks kicked into the air, and I heard a groan from the onlookers.

The corporal loaded the second rocket, and I concentrated to calm my breath and steadied my hands. When the target was lined in my sights, I made sure to squeeze the trigger gently. I watched the rocket fire and track towards the target, leaving a thin trail of white smoke behind.

The target exploded in a bright flame, a second before I felt the slight tuck of the shock-wave and heard the deep rumbling noise of the loud explosion. Rex and the others burst into cheer, and I saw the slight smile on Corporal Lewis's lips before he turned to the clipboard and wrote, "Pass," behind my name.

By the end of our shooting turn, three people in our squad failed, including Rex. Corporal Lewis must have been in a good mood, or maybe it was the plan all along, but he gave them another chance to pass.

Rex was a bundle of nerves when he crouched onto one knew, ready to fire. His first shot missed the target to the right. His second shot tracked straight towards the target, but hit the ground five meters short. Fortunately for Rex, the angle was just right, and the rocket ricochet off the sand and struck the centre of the target.

Our squad cheered when the target exploded. Rex looked around anxiously at the corporal, who couldn't help a smile.

"There is no 'how' column here," he said and wrote pass.

"Shit, that was close," Rex said as he joined the group.

Both Manny and Eric, who failed on their first attempts, succeeded with their second.

Next we moved to the patrol mortar. We had to team up and would be graded as a team. As usual, Rex and I paired. When it was our turn, I gripped the tube first. I stepped on the base plate with my right foot to steady the weapon, aimed the pipe and nodded at Rex when ready.

Rex armed the mortar and dropped it down the pipe. The target was three hundred meters away, and my first shot landed fifty meters short. I made a slight adjustment to the elevation of the tube, and nodded again. My second shot landed five meters short, but it was close enough to the target that the wreck was caught in the blast.

I held the pipe steady when I handed over to Rex, and he made only a small adjustment. I armed and dropped the first mortar down the tube, it made a small pop sound when it hit the firing pin and the projectile was hurled through the air. We tracked the arc and the onlookers cheered when the mortar hit the target dead centre and exploded in a ball of flames and dust. Rex's second shot had the same result, and everyone patted him on the shoulder for a job well done.

When we were done with the Patmor, Frik and his crew arrived with food, and we broke for brunch.

Frik frowned when we joined the line, and he dropped mashed potatoes into our dixies.

He nodded towards Rex and directed his question at me.

"What's the matter with him?" I gazed at Rex, who still grinned like a schoolboy.

I laughed. "He got to blow shit up."

Frik shook his head. "Ah. Did you hear what happened to George?"

"No, what?"

"They were out in the field doing rough terrain driving. He was supposed to go over a slight hill, but misjudged and ended rolling the Ratel."

Rex and I both had shock on our faces.

"Is he alright?" I asked.

"Yeah, both he and the Ratel are fine. After it flipped, the vehicle landed back on its wheels. Unfortunately, the sergeant in charge of the Ratels was not happy. When I brought them their food, George was flipping a Ratel tire up and down the practice area."

Rex and I laughed in sympathy. We had experience with a Ratel tire during Vasbyt, and the thing was heavy and awkward. "Ouch."

After we ate, our evaluation continued. We were lucky we had the RPG-7 first, because after that, all the other weapons seemed quite easy. The 40mm grenade launcher and the LMG machine gun was the most fun. Either we were all well trained or the evaluation was easy, but at the end of the day, no one failed.

There were rumors that the corporals didn't want to look bad, but all in all, it was not difficult to pass. Operating the weapons didn't take a rocket scientist. It was much easier than driving a Ratel. But of course we were not about to let George get away easy on that one.

That evening back in the camp, Rex and I met up with our friends in the canteen. When everyone had a beer in front of them, we cracked the first one, and together raised it and said cheers.

"So how was everyone's day?" Charlie asked as he wiped beer-foam from his lips.

Rex and I explained in great detail all the weapons we fired that day.

George shook his head. "Rex, you enjoy blowing things up way too much."

Rex and I looked at each other, and we had to fight an attack of the giggles.

"Well, at least we didn't roll any of the weapons," I said innocently while I took another sip of beer.

George's hand was half-way to his mouth, but it froze in mid-air. He turned his head slowly towards Frik, but the chef found a dart game near our table very interesting. After a moment's silence, five pair of eyes met, and we all burst into laughter.

"How on earth did you manage that?" I asked.

George looked embarrassed and ran a hand through his short, spiky hair.

"Yeah well, I'm not sure. It all happened so quickly. I approached the hill which tilted the Ratel almost ninety degrees, and I could swear the corporal said left. I turned left and pushed down on the accelerator pedal, and then the Ratel went over. It was like a slow motion movie. The vehicle made a full roll, and when it landed back on its wheels, I'm not sure whose eyes were bigger, the corporal's or mine."

"What did the corporal say after that?" Rex asked.

George took another sip from his beer, stared at Rex for a second, then said, "He smacked me against my helmet and said, 'your other fucking left'."

At that point, we lost it. I laughed so hard I had tears running down my cheeks. Several people stopped and stared, but we didn't care. We enjoyed each other's company; Rex and I were one of the few aspiring section leaders that mingled with other units.

A while later we heard a crash in the corner. Someone pushed a tall, thin guy into one of the tables. We recognized the guy at once. I jumped from my chair and help him to his feet.

"Frankie, are you alright?" I asked.

The young man's sad eyes lit up. "Chris, wow, it's good to see you. How you're been?"

I looked around at the guy who pushed Frankie. He was a stocky build guy with mean, black eyes. Sleek dark hair gave his long face an evil look. The guy was flanked by two buddies, and I recognize the sort. Another Derrick and his bully buddies. The military was full of them.

The trio took one look at our table and realized they stared at serious trouble.

"Bloody wise guy," the one said and they went back to their dart game.

"What happened?" I asked.

Frankie shook his head. "The one guy told his friend about the origins of the game of darts. He said it started with the Vikings. I tried to tell them it started when soldiers threw arrows at empty keg bottoms, but they took exception and shoved me into the table."

Frankie, a gentle, free spirited character who knew a lot. In basics, he was our bungalow know-it-all, and although he landed us in trouble quite often, we all liked him. The face I saw in that canteen, changed. Gone was that ready smile, and his eyes had dark rings that appeared sunken in their sockets.

I turned my head towards the others, and I could see the shock in their eyes.

Frankie flashed me a grateful smile and said, "Thanks, Chris."

He turned to leave, but I said, "Frankie, why don't you join us?"

Those sad, blue eyes seemed to come to life. "Really?"

"Sure," I said and pulled an extra chair.

"Hey, Frankie," the others greeted him heartily, and the young man blossomed by the attention. I found out later that, since basics, Frankie had a hard time. He decided to train as a rifleman and was moved to Alpha Company.

He didn't know anybody in his new platoon, and they didn't know him. Branded as a trouble maker, the corporals picked on him all the time. Frankie was a walking encyclopedia, but his new platoon didn't appreciate his vast knowledge. The fact that he could shoot better than any of them, just made him more of a target. Frankie was bullied to the point where they broke his spirit. But that night, at least for a few hours, it felt like old times with friends, and we caught a brief glimpse of the old Frankie.

### Chapter 13

Saturday morning we had to do yard maintenance. Our platoon was assigned to clean the area outside the main gate. The military prided itself on discipline and that everything must be neat and organized. That not only included personnel and equipment, but also their buildings and surroundings. Even if you just stood outside the gates, you would get the impression of strict military values.

Rex and I both had shovels, and I absentmindedly picked at some invisible weeds. Rex looked at me and frowned.

"You are far away today, thinking of Charlotte?"

I gave a wry smile. Normally if my mind wondered, she did occupy my thoughts, but not that morning.

"Nah, I've been thinking about Frankie. We all spent three months together in basics, and were one big family who did everything together. Since basics we split up and some of the guys we'll never see again. They transferred to another base."

Rex nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Some do make a bigger impact on you than others. Frankie though, doesn't deserve to be treated like that."

"He is like a little brother, annoying at times, but does come in helpful."

Rex gave a short laugh. "He's sure caused us endless extra runs with his antics, but his vast general knowledge came in helpful on more than one occasion."

"And he's a nice guy. I'm trying to find a way to help him. He's obviously going through a tough time."

Rex snorted. "Aren't we all?"

"No, you always look like you're having fun." I jumped out the way when a shovel swung my way.

Rex grinned. "I am, but I have you and the others for entertainment."

"And you get to blow stuff up."

Rex laughed. "Yes and that too. What do you suggest we do to help Frankie?"

I looked at Rex and wondered how any of us would have fared if we were in Frankie's shoes.

"I think the best way is to offer him our friendship."

"Chris, that would be easy, we all think of him as a friend anyway."

Later that afternoon, after all our duties were done and the corporals released us to ourselves, Rex and I joined our friends in the canteen. We bought our two daily beers and walked over to our usual table.

Frik, George and Charlie were already seated and waited for us. I also noted that there were six chairs around the table instead of the usual five. We all had had the same thought on Frankie.

It became a tradition to wait till everybody was seated before we opened the first beer. We look at each other and then at the empty chair.

"Do you think he will join us today?" Charlie asked.

"I asked him at lunch if we would see him in the canteen, and he said, maybe," Frik said.

George tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to a lonely figure walking towards a single table in the corner. Before he reached the table, the three bullies surrounded it and plopped into the empty chairs.

"Son of a...," George jumped to his feet, his eyes filled with anger.

I jumped in front of him. "George, I got this."

George nodded and I walked over to Frankie, who stood and watched the trio with slumped shoulders. They acted like he wasn't there.

I rested my hand on Frankie's shoulder and said, "Hey, Frankie, there you are. Our usual table is over here. George kept your seat warm,"

The young man's eye lit up when he saw me and followed me to our table. George and Frik were deep in discussion about a poker game, with Charlie and Rex listening intently.

"Oh, hi, Frankie," George said and the other greeted him as they would any of their other friends joining the table.

"Well, now that everyone's here, I'm thirsty," Rex said and grabbed his beer.

We cracked ours and held them over the middle of the table in salute.

"To friendship," I said.

Frankie smiled, opened his beer and joined the salute. "To friendship."

We all took a sip, and for a second, there was an awkward silence, but I turned to Frankie.

"Have you heard, Alain Prost over here rolled his Ratel."

Frankie's eyes widened with surprise while the rest burst into laughter.

"What happened?" Frankie asked in earnest.

George flashed me a smile, not minding at all to be the subject of the conversation starter.

We spent a pleasurable few hours together, keeping it light. Slowly Frankie relaxed and joined into the exchange of banter. By the time we said our goodbyes and headed to our own bungalows, a new friendship was cemented.

Word travelled fast who Frankie's new friends were and people left him alone. Apparently even his corporals got the message, and for fear of poison or something in their food, they stopped picking on Frankie. For everyone, the weekend passed too quickly.

Monday morning arrived with new purpose. I could feel it the moment Corporals Danson and Lewis stepped into the bungalow. There was an air of expectation, which I didn't fully understand, until we lined up in formation for our first lesson of the day.

Four Ratels were parked to the side. The sight of the Infantry Combat Vehicles gave me Goosebumps. I looked at Rex and he had stars in his eyes. The corporals divided us into four groups. Rex and I ended with Corporal Lewis at the far most Ratel.

Corporal Lewis looked at our group and asked, "Who can tell me where this vehicle got its name from?"

Rex and I stared at each other with the same thought. Frankie would probably have known that.

"Ratel is the Afrikaans word for the honey badger, a creature known for its fierce combat capabilities," the corporal explained.

Over the next hour we learnt the technical aspects of the vehicle. It had a powerful turbo-charged diesel engine, capable of pulling its own bodyweight at a ninety degree angle. The crew of ten comprised of the commander, or section leader, the driver, gunner and seven riflemen. The riflemen were divided into two sections. The first section comprised of the section second in command and the two guys with the LMG, and the second of four ordinary riflemen.

The Ratel was armed with various weapons, depending of its role in the platoon. The platoon commander was in a Ratel 60, which had a 60mm mortar mounted instead of the 20mm cannon. We, the section leaders, would be in command of the Ratel 20 with its 20mm cannon. A browning 7,62mm machine gun was mounted alongside the cannon, giving the mechanized infantry vehicle some serious extra firing power.

"I can't wait to fire those babies," Rex said.

The corporal laughed. "You'll have plenty of opportunity for that, Dumont. But first, you'll have to learn how they work."

Over the next few days, we learnt exactly how the Ratel worked. As section leader, I would be stationed in the turret, next to the gunner. Instead of my normal battle helmet, I had to wear a communications helmet with built-in earphones and a microphone. The helmet connected to a selector that the section leader wore on his chest. The selector had three settings, A, B and C. A was used to communicate with the squad inside the vehicle, B to talk over the B-radio to the rest of the platoon, and C for the C-radio which was used for Company communication.

Because the section leader did most of the communication, we had to learn proper radio usage and etiquette. We also had to learn how to use call-signs and to distinguish between them. The first letter of your call-sign designated your company, the second letter your platoon and the last letter your section. If your call-sign was 33A, it meant you were in Charlie Company, platoon 3, section A.

I took careful notes of everything because I knew we would be tested. Throughout the week Rex became impatient. The mechanics of the Ratel didn't interest him. He only wanted to shoot the weapons. Come Friday, we still had not fired a single weapon.

"How are we supposed to learn if they only tell us about it?" Rex complained the Friday evening.

Charlie was all smiles. They went for their first shooting exercise during the week.

"You're in for a treat. That cannon is awesome."

That news didn't improve Rex's mood. But it was sure to improve after the weekend. Early the Monday morning we were ordered onto the back of the trucks, and headed out to De Brug.

Six Ratels waited for us, which meant only six guys at a time. While that six were busy, the others sat to the side and did exams on Ratel mechanics. Rex and I were in the third group.

I climbed on top of the Ratel and lowered myself through the hatch into the gunner seat in the turret. I fitted the helmet to my head and could hear everything the corporal said through the built-in headphones.

I was nervous and excited at the same time. First, the corporal explained how the turret operated. The gunner controlled the movement of the turret via two controls. The left hand mechanism controlled the elevation of the guns, while the right hand mechanism controlled the movement of the turret. Each handle of the control mechanism had a firing button. The left button fired the machine gun, the one on the right the cannon.

Next, the corporal explained how to load the machine gun and the cannon. The machine gun operated very similar to the LMG, and was belt-fed. It was situated on the side of the section leader, who had the responsibility to load it.

The cannon had a dual-feed system with a selector that toggled between the feeds. The ammo was loaded through two feeder tubes attached to the cannon, armor piercing one side, and high explosive rounds the other. Once loaded, the weapon was ready to fire, and my heart pounded hard against my ribs.

"OK, fire the Browning," the corporal's instruction came via the headphones.

I peered through the sighting block, making sure the sights were trained on the wreck, five hundred meters away. I took a deep breath and pressed the button on the left hand control. The machine gun fired with a violent burst. A catching bag gathered the spent links. The cabin of the Ratel filled with smoke from the burned gunpowder, the smell overwhelming in the close confines of the vehicle.

The driver started the extraction fan to clear the smoke. After the first short burst, I looked through the sights and noticed that the trail of bullets hit just short of the target. I made a small adjustment in the elevation and fired once more.

The 7,62mm bullets tore into the old car wreck. I finished the remainder of the belt, and then the corporal said, "Now the 20 mil."

I pressed the right hand button. The cannon fired the 20mm shells in rapid succession. There was a slight vibration, but the heavy vehicle stood solid against the recoil of the big gun. The spent links dropped into the catching bag, and more smoked filled the compartment. The smell of gunpowder almost drowned my senses, and I had to fight the urge to gag.

The power of the cannon was a sight to behold. The shells slammed into the wreck, each one causing a mini explosion. The body of the old car was pushed back by the sheer force of the blasts. Adrenalin pumped through my veins, and I couldn't stop the exhilarating, "Wow!" that escaped my lips.

Too soon my turn was done, and my hands shook with excitement when I removed the helmet and climbed from the cramped turret. I joined the group to the side that already had their turn and talked with animated gestures about their experience.

I few moments later Rex emerged from one of the other Ratels and ran to join us.

"That was fucking awesome!" he yelled. "I should've gone with Charlie for gunner training."

I laughed, but am grateful he didn't. Having Rex in control of such fire power was a scary thought. Once everyone had their turn, we returned to the base. The Ratels followed us back, which led to another lesson, how to remove the guns from the Ratel and clean them properly after being fired.

Taking the weapons apart and cleaning them was not an easy task. It took us the rest of the afternoon to get the guns ready to fire again, and clean out the spent shells and linkages from the Ratels.

That evening when we joined the rest of our friends in the canteen, Rex still had stars in his eyes.

"You're one lucky bugger," Rex said to Charlie.

Charlie frowned. "What've I done now?"

I shook my head and said, "We got to fire the 20 mil today."

"Ah," Charlie, George, Frik and Frankie said in unison.

The next hour, Rex explained in great detail how he fired the cannon.

"It probably is not that easy when the target fires back, or if you have to shoot at human beings," Frankie said.

That put everything back into perspective and wiped the smile from Rex's face. For a few minutes, we all stared at our beers and drank in silence. The realization that the weapons were not toys, and used for a deadly purpose, a sobering thought.

Rex threw an accusing glance Frankie's way for being such a downer, but everyone knew Frankie was right. We were trained for war, not for amusement.

"But it was still fun," Rex mumbled and we all laughed.

I glanced sideways at Frankie and saw the sparkle had returned to his eyes. After we drew him into our circle of friends, he was a changed man. Bullies like to pick on individuals. When someone is part of a group, they tend to steer clear, because they know, pick on one and his friends will come after you. I listened to the banter in our group and knew the memories we made there would stay with all of us for a lifetime. Whatever happened in our future, we would always remember those moments.

### Chapter 14

The morning of our fifth week of section leader's training got off to a rough start. I don't know if the corporals found out that we didn't sleep in our inspection beds, or if they were just in a miserable mood. The moment they stepped into the bungalow that morning, I could tell there would be trouble.

Corporal Danson started on the one end and Corporal Lewis on the other. They found fault with everything and as far as they went down the line, bedding flew in every direction as they tossed the beds, tipped our trommels, and dumped the contents of our cabinets on the floor.

Rex and I looked at each other in shock. Our hard work strewn all over the floor and the corporals had no respect for our stuff. I expected them to tell us that we had thirty minutes to get everything in top shape and be ready for another inspection. Instead, Corporal Danson glared at us.

"Get your things out of the middle of the floor and report outside in five minutes."

"He says it like we tossed all our shit on the floor deliberately. Of course, he had nothing to do with it," Rex said.

I turned my trommel and returned its contents. I straightened the mattress and made a rough bed. Grabbing the various parts of my rifle I had displayed for inspection, I assembled the weapon in record time. The stuffed the contents of my cabinet inside and locked it.

The transformation of the bungalow in five short minutes was unbelievable. Although not inspection quality, we left it neat and clean when we ran outside to line up in formation. The way the guys from the second bungalow scrambled, they also had their bungalow tossed.

Corporal Lewis almost looked impressed when he checked his watch. We made it well within the five minute deadline. Unfortunately for us, Corporal Danson bought his watch at some dodgy dealer. His timepiece could not keep accurate track of time.

"You didn't make it, boys. Around the tree you go."

"I don't know why we rushed to get here in time. He's going to make us run no matter what," Rex said as we were halfway on our way to the tree.

"We live in hope," I answered.

"Because he's a fucking asshole," Trevor said.

After two more runs, we settled in for a morning lesson. We learnt about communicating via a two way radio, and radio etiquette. Of course, we first had to learn the military alphabet. After reciting that several times, and recording it in our notebooks, we were ready to practice.

As usual, Rex and I formed a team. Over the radio one was not allowed to say, "Hey Rex, how's it going?"

No, first you had to have an identifier as you were not allowed to use your name. If it was an individual person, you tended to use your initials. Chris Dempsey became Charlie Delta. At the end of whatever you say, you had to add, "Over." That way the person on the other end of the radio knew that you were done and it was his turn to talk.

Our two groups were taken to opposite sides of the bungalows so we couldn't see or hear each other.

"Ok, who's first?" Corporal Danson asked.

We all looked at each other, before I stepped forward. "I'll do it."

The radio handset looked like an old-fashioned telephone handset with a press bar between the ear and mouth piece. When it was your turn to talk, you would press the press bar and speak.

I took the handset from the Corporal, pressed the press bar and said, "Romeo Delta, this is Charlie Delta, come in."

The corporal snorted and said, "Over."

I frowned and said, "Huh?"

The corporal sighed. "Say, over, so that he knows you're done talking."

Duh. I quickly pressed the instrument again and said, "Over."

A second later Rex's voice crackled through the ear piece. "Charlie Delta, this is Romeo Delta. How's the weather in your neck of the woods."

Before he could say, over, I heard the smack as Corporal Lewis whacked him in the back of the head. A second later he said what he was supposed to have said in the first place.

"Charlie Delta, are you ready to give your sitrep? Over." Sitrep was short for situation report.

Besides the military alphabet, we also had to learn all the abbreviations that were used. I couldn't tell Rex that I moved to the temporary base, I had to say, "Romeo Delta, I've completed my move to the TB, over."

For the rest of the morning until tea-time, we had fun with the radios. The corporals let us go, as long as we used proper radio etiquette. Failure to do so resulted in a run around the tree.

After lunch, two Ratels were parked next to our bungalows. Corporal Danson used the one for exams. He tested our knowledge on the mechanics of the vehicle. The second Ratel was used by Corporal Lewis to demonstrate a steel parade.

We started with the four-by-four meter ground sail, which we spread out evenly in front of the Ratel. Then we had to pack out every last piece of equipment in the Ratel on the sail. The original object of the exercise was to take inventory of the Ratel's equipment, but it didn't take long for someone to work it so that it became another bane in a soldier's existence.

We had to pack all the equipment in order and grouped together. All the headsets in a neat row together, all the extra magazines in the Ratel, the shovels and other equipment.

"Wow. How did they get all this shit into the Ratel?" Rex asked.

"I'm sure we'll find out, as we'll be the ones to pack it away again," Manny answered.

When everything was displayed in order and neat, we had to clean the vehicle inside out. Not a speck of dust was allowed. For one person it would be an impossible task, but for a crew working together, it could be achieved in under an hour.

"Not bad for your first attempt," Corporal Lewis said. Coming from a corporal, that was huge praise.

Soon after Manny arrived and said, "Chris, it's your turn for the exam."

I reported to Corporal Danson. My heart thumped against my ribs, my nervous hands shaking. But I paid attention when it was explained to us, plus Rex and I got extra lessons from George and Charlie, who had to learn the Ratel and its weapon systems in-depth.

I started on the outside of the vehicle. Corporal Danson asked me to point out features of the Ratel, and he ticked it off on his clip-board. Occasionally he would point to something and I had to name it. In the turret, I had to point out the weapons, the radios and demonstrated that I knew how to use all the controls.

When I was done, Corporal Danson nodded and said, "Well, at least you paid attention."

When I joined the rest of the squad, they were busy packing all the equipment into the Ratel. Everything had its specific place where it belonged.

"This is sure a remarkable machine," Rex said.

"And I'm sure we'll get to know it very well in the coming months," I said.

Trevor frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You know by now how they teach you something. You do it over and over until it becomes second nature. There is still a lot to be learnt before we take a vehicle like this into battle," I said.

Around me were quite a few worried faces. Nobody was under the illusion that any of it would be easy.

That evening we met the rest of our friends in the canteen.

"Have you heard, one of the drivers crashed a Samil 20," Charlie said. The Samil 20 was a smaller version of the Samil 50's that normally transported us to De Brug. The light utility truck was designed for a small squad or section, rather than for the entire platoon.

I looked at George, who held up his hands defensively. "Hey, don't look at me. I'm innocent."

Rex and I snorted together. George shook his head and said, "I rolled one little Ratel and now nobody will ever forget it."

"What happened anyway?" I asked.

"Doing advanced driver's training at De Brug, we had to drive over a temporary bridge, and one dip-shit misjudged the ramp and ended at the bottom of the ditch," George explained.

"Is the guy ok?" Rex asked.

"Yeah, he's recovering in hospital with a broken leg. But the truck is fubar."

I looked at Frankie. "Fubar?"

Frankie laughed. "Yes, fubar. Fucked up beyond all recognition."

I shook my head. "George, I thought you're training to be a Ratel driver?"

"Yeah, I am. But you know the military, two for the price of one. We're also training to drive trucks, especially the Samil 20."

"What would we do with those?" Charlie asked.

"I heard we would us them in our coin ops phase," Frankie said.

"Huh, what's that?" Rex asked.

"Counter insurgency operations. What exactly it entails, I don't know."

I smiled. "But I bet you'll find out."

Frankie laughed. At least within our group we appreciated his thirst for knowledge. It also came in handy. We sometimes came into information via Frankie before anybody else knew it.

"We're going on pass this weekend. How about you guys?" Frankie asked.

I shook my head. "No, we haven't heard a word." George, Frik and Charlie also didn't hear anything about a possible trip home. But they were good at springing it on us at the last minute.

By Wednesday morning, we still had no word on a possible pass. Frankie told us about it in confidence, so we kept it to ourselves. The rest of the platoon was oblivious to it anyway.

After breakfast and inspection, Corporal Danson instructed us to pack our bags for the field. Trevor and Eric did guard duty over the weekend, and told us how cold it got at night.

"I hope they're not planning for us to sleep out tonight?" Rex asked concerned.

"The corporal said to pack our sleeping bags, so it's a safe bet that we will," I said.

Rex shook his head. "Shit. Don't they realize it's winter?"

Although the days were sunny and pleasant, the night temperatures dropped significantly. Winter was well on its way.

We loaded our gear and mounted the trucks. The area where we stopped at De Brug was quite open. A line of trees formed a natural L-shape. Behind the trees was a slight rise in the landscape that formed a natural amphitheater, but the rest of the landscape was flat. Dry knee-high grass fluttered in the soft afternoon breeze.

We dismounted the trucks and looked around for tents, but there were none.

"Maybe we're not sleeping out tonight after all," Trevor said.

The corporals instructed us to stash our gear to the side, and then we lined up next to the trees.

"Ok boys, when you walk a patrol in enemy territory, you do it in silence. No talking, so that means communication is done with hand signals," Corporal Danson said.

"We will now demonstrate the various signals you'll use, and then we'll practice them," Corporal Lewis added.

The Corporal held his arm horizontal and bent it upwards at the elbow so it formed a ninety degree angle, and made his hand into a fist.

"This is the signal to halt." The corporal proceeded to show us the full array of hand signals we had to learn.

The corporal held his fore and middle fingers together and tapped the sleeve of his shirt.

"This means the corporal wants to see you. If I tap my shoulder, it means the lieutenant wants to see you."

"And what if the Colonel wants to see you?" Dirk asked.

Corporal Lewis shook his head. "Then he'll call you."

Dirk's eyes widened. "Even in the field?"

Corporal Danson snorted. "What the fuck will the Colonel do in the field? They sit in an air-conditioned office or tent and plan what you and I will do in the field."

After we ran through the signals a few times, it was time to put them into practice. We divided into our usual sections, and took turns to walk the lead. When Manny took the lead, Rex was second in line. Manny made the chopping signal with his arm, indicating that we should move, and we started walking.

After performing a few signals, we followed Manny in a straight line. Suddenly Rex held his arm up, indicating halt. We all halted, but Manny in front didn't see what happened and continued walking. After about thirty meters, he must have realized things were too quiet and looked around. The look of loss and confusion on Manny's face was priceless.

We all started to giggle when Corporal Danson saw what happened.

"Oh, you think this is a fucking joke? Get your rifles above your heads and make a lap around the trees."

"Ah shit, sorry guys. I forgot captain A-hole has no sense of humor," Rex said as we made our way around the trees, a two hundred meter round trip.

"Don't worry, the look on Manny's face was worth it," Anton said. Even Manny had a chuckle.

"Yeah, every section has a clown. Now we know who's ours."

We had reached a level of fitness where running, even with rifles held above our heads, was a mere inconvenience. We did it so often, that we got good at doing it. That afternoon, we did several trips around the tree, and we were not the only section. Every now and again, one of the other squads sprinted for the trees.

Even in the seriousness of the training, you would always find someone cracking a joke, or making a sly remark. After all, we were eighteen, some nineteen, years old. Our faces still reflected our innocent youth. Being out in the open still brought out the child in all of us, and we still did not fully comprehended the seriousness of our situation.

For most of us, at that point, it was all still just a game. We heard stories of the battles on the border, but were a long way removed from it. The previous year most of us still attended school and did children stuff. Although basic training went a long way to help us become grown-ups, we were not quite there yet.

It was late in the afternoon when Frik and his crew brought us food. We missed lunch and were starved.

"Damn, looks like we're really spending the night out here," Eric said.

I looked around and there was still no sign of any other gear besides our gear that was stacked to the side, and the corporal's gear under a sail. I looked up at the cloudless sky.

"At least it doesn't look like rain."

### Chapter 15

The setting sun hovered lazily above the horizon. We gathered in the long shadows cast by the trees. By now, there was no doubt we were destined to spend the night out in the field. The slight breeze carried cold air that cut through to my bones. All of us wore our big heavy coats, and I stuffed my hands deep into the coat's pockets.

Corporal Lewis stood by two big cases which looked like someone's luggage.

"Being able to see in the night can give you a tactical advantage. The human eye can't see in the dark, but thanks to some clever people, we now can."

The corporal released the clips and flipped the lid open. Inside, packed in polyurethane pockets, four identical devices that looked like some kind of binoculars that you could strap to your head.

Corporal Lewis picked one of the devices from the case and held it for us to see.

"This is an NVD, or night vision device, commonly referred to as night vision goggles. Notice the protective caps over the lenses. Do not remove these in daylight, as it will damage the device. These things are expensive, so if you break one, you'll have to join the army for the rest of your life to pay for it."

Rex was eager to get his hands on the device, but with those wise words, he took a step back. My keen friend was not ready to join the permanent force.

While there was still daylight, the corporals explained how the device worked, and how you strapped it to your head. We were cautioned not to look into any light with the goggles, as the light intensified through the device and could burn our eyes.

Once the demonstration was done, it was time to practice. One great thing about the military, they believed you learned through practical application. Each section received a night vision device and we split off into our groups.

Besides the faint glow in the western horizon, we were covered in darkness. The sky was littered with stars so bright, it felt that you could reach up and touch them. We each got a turn with the NVD.

When Manny handed me the device, I had to readjust the straps.

"Geez Manny, you have a big head," I said.

"It's because I have a big brain. That's why I'm so clever," he answered.

Rex snorted. "You sure it's not your ego?"

"Cut the crap." The corporal intervened before things got out of hand.

Through the goggles, the night came alive. Although I could not distinguish color, everything was clearly visible. The goggles enhanced light, and if I looked up at the sky, the stars appeared like green sparkles.

Too soon my minute was up, and I handed the device to Rex. He fitted it and looked around in wonder.

"Shit, Manny, Chris is right. Your head is enormous," Rex said. Manny tried to grab him in the dark, but through the night vision, Rex easily avoided the grasping hands.

Once everyone had their turn with the goggles, the corporals said we could go to sleep. We had to keep within the confines of the trees. The first problem we faced was that we had to locate our backpacks and identify our own. There were quite a few smokers in our group, and by the light of their lighters, we managed to find our own kit.

I didn't want to stumble around in the dark, and found the nearest flat piece of land. Feeling around in the ground, I ensure that the area was clear of any obstacles. I had no desire to sleep on a rock or a stick.

I spread my bivvy on the ground and lay my sleeping bag on top. I removed my boots and crawled inside. Before I zipped my bag, I slipped my boots and rifle inside the bag.

"Fuck, it's cold," Rex mumbled from inside his sleeping bag.

"I hope you didn't leave your boots outside," I said, and several of the others laughed.

"Fuck off," Rex said, the memory of his frozen boots during Vasbyt still fresh.

I tried to get comfortable, but the hard ground pressed into my body, making a comfortable position impossible. Slowly my breath inside the sleeping bag warmed the rest of me, and I could feel my body relax.

I woke up sometime during the middle of the night and wondered why my bag shook. It took me a moment to realize that my entire body trembled from the cold. I unzipped my sleeping bag, reached into my backpack, and reached for my jersey.

I had to jump out of the warmth of my sleeping bag and the big coat, to pull the jersey on. After I redressed, I pulled the bivvy from under my sleeping bag, and covered my sleeping area with it. Every little bit of warmth would help. When I crawled back into the warm sleeping bag, my teeth clattered in the quiet night. With the warmth spreading through my body, I slowly relaxed. The shaking stopped and I drifted back to sleep.

It felt like only moments later when I woke and heard Rex mumble in his bed. He lay only a few meters away, and did not sound happy, swearing up a storm. I had my head tucked inside my sleeping bag, where it was nice and toasty, but the moment I unzipped the top, cold air rushed inside.

The sun did not rise yet, but it was light enough to see. Then entire area was covered in white.

"Shit, did it snow during the night?" Rex asked from his bed, only his face showing from his sleeping bag, his teeth clattering.

I shook my head. "No, it's only frost."

I grabbed my boots and slipped them onto my feet. I didn't want to get out of the warm bed, but had no choice. Nature called.

The bivvy kept the ice from my sleeping bag, which helped keeping me warm during the night. From the sour expression on Rex's face, I could tell I had a better night's sleep than him.

"What's wrong? Didn't sleep well?" I asked.

He glared at me with an accusing stare. "Fuck, no! I couldn't get warm. Why didn't you share the bivvy trick?" he asked.

"I did it in the middle of the night and didn't want to wake you."

"Wake me? I didn't get more than thirty minutes at a time before the clattering of my fucking teeth woke me."

More of the white shapes on the ground started to stir when I made for the nearest tree. Steam rose from where the warm body fluid hit the cold ground.

"We were stupid," I said. "We should have stayed under the cover of the trees. We all slept in the open while the trees blocked most of the frost."

"Shit, it was so dark when we went to bed. I'm surprised that I managed to get into my sleeping bag at all," Rex said.

My stomach gurgled when I stowed my sleeping bag. I pulled a slice of the dry, half-frozen bread that Frik sneaked us the day before from my back pack. Rex had the same idea, and we washed the dry bread down with a few swallows of water. Not a gourmet meal, but it would do until we get food.

Unlike us, the corporals shared a chopper tent.

"Why do they get a tent and we have to sleep in the open?" Trevor asked.

"I'm sure they asked that exact same question last year," I said.

A few moments later, Corporal Lewis emerged from the tent and made sure everyone was awake. He looked over at Rex, who gathered pieces of wood.

"And what do think you're doing?"

Rex looked at him with a frown on his forehead. "I'm making a fire, Corporal. We're freezing."

Corporal Lewis shook his head. "In the field you can't do that. The enemy can spot your smoke and know your exact position. No fires."

Rex stood with a look of disbelief on his face and when the corporal walked away, he tossed a piece of the wood to the side in disgust. He blew into his hands and rubbed them together.

"What fucking enemy? Is there a scheming rabbit hopping around here somewhere plotting our demise?" he asked when the corporal was out of earshot.

Moments later I heard a low, rumbling sound, and two Samil's drove into our camp. For a second I thought breakfast arrived, but corporal Danson shouted, "Load your gear. We're leaving in five minutes."

Corporal Lewis grabbed the first four guys who loaded their kit, and ordered them to break down the tent and load the corporals' gear. Ten minutes later the campsite was cleared. We were loaded and headed back to the base.

The ride was a cold one. The sails covering the back of the truck did not block out the wind completely. The cold air that rushed through the cracks, cut to the bone. I had my rifle gripped between my knees, and my hands stuffed deep inside my coat pockets. I pulled my neck as far as I could into my shoulders, resembling a turtle.

The sight of the base was a welcome one. As usual, the trucks parked next to the rugby field.

"If you're quick enough to the mess hall, there might still be some breakfast left," Corporal Danson said.

We grabbed our kit and ran for the bungalows. Two minutes later, with our gear stashed and rifles locked in our lockers, we lined up in a squad with eating utensils in hand. We had to march to the mess hall as a squad and were not allowed to arrive in singles.

Much to our delight, Frik kept our food separate. The powdered eggs and sausages were still warm.

"Hey, Frik, you're a lifesaver," I said at the sight of our chef-friend.

He laughed. "I have to look out for you. Sorry I could only sneak you some bread yesterday afternoon. The kitchen sergeant watched us like hawks."

"You will not believe how good that dry bread tasted with water this morning," I said with a grin.

After breakfast we made our way back to the bungalow. Not sure what was planned for the morning, I grabbed a quick shower to wash the field grime away. While waiting for orders, I cleaned my living space.

We sat around for an hour, and just when we thought the corporals forgot about us, Corporal Danson strolled into the bungalow.

"Stand up!" someone yelled from the front, and we all jumped to attention.

"As you were," the corporal said. He stood with his hands on his hips and stared at us.

"I see you have attempted to clean the place, but it's not good enough for an inspection." He paused for a moment then added, "You have three hours to get this place spotless for a captain's inspection. If he's satisfied, you might just get a pass this weekend."

For a moment after he left, most of the guys stared at each other.

"Is he serious or just fucking us around again?" Manny asked.

I glanced at Rex before I said, "I heard from a buddy of mine in Alpha Company that they're going home today. It might just be possible that there's really a captain's inspection and that we could be going home this afternoon."

Trevor clapped his hands together. "Well, what're we waiting for? Let's get this place ready for the captain."

Within moments the bungalow was a beehive of activity. I polished my boots, made sure the edges of my bed were perfectly square, cleaned my weapon and ironed my browns. For a captain's inspection, we had to dress in full browns with all the bells and whistles.

"What are your plans for the weekend?" Rex asked.

He asked it like we had months to plan the weekend. I shook my head. "No plans. Will see what it brings. Hopefully Charlotte will not be too busy and we can spend some time together."

Rex grinned. "Why did I even ask?"

"What about you?" I asked.

Rex shrugged. "It depends if my dad has to work the weekend."

Rex, like me, came from a poor family. Both our dads worked just about every weekend and we saw little of them when at home.

Fifteen minutes before the captain was due to arrive, we stood ready. After four months in the military, we got quite efficient at preparing for inspections. Everything had its place, was neat and organized, and the brown linoleum floor shined with a fresh coat of wax.

When Corporals Danson and Lewis showed, we stood at attention at the foot end of our beds, a picture of military unison. They flanked the door and stood at attention. A moment later the impressive figure of Captain Rawlings entered our bungalow. Both corporals executed a swift salute.

The captain returned the salute and started his inspection. Every few beds he stopped and looked at something, inspecting a rifle part, checking that a soldier was clean shaven or that boots were properly shined.

Captain Rawlings had been in the military for a long time, and had seen many soldiers stand inspection. You would think after a while, they don't see faces anymore, just another soldier.

He stopped in front of me and took me by surprise when he asked, "How're you doing, Dempsey?"

"I'm fine thanks, Captain."

His keen eyes scanned over my area before he moved to the next bed. He made it down the aisle with the corporals following close on his heels. When he reached the end of the line, he turned to the corporals.

"A fine bunch this year, they're good to go."

The corporals saluted again and they exhaled in relief when the captain walked to the next bungalow. The corporals looked at each other and nodded.

"Well, boys, looks like the captain was satisfied, which means you can go home the weekend. Don't pick up any bad civvy habits. The buses are at their usual spot and leave at 13:00 sharp. Enjoy the weekend."

Rex and I look at each other.

"Is it just me, or was that too easy?" I asked. All the previous times we got to go home, we were put through hell before we finally got to step on the bus.

Rex grabbed his bag. "Who cares? I'm out of here before they change their minds."

Trevor laughed and said, "Yeah, I agree with Rex."

I shook my head, grabbed my bag, and ran for the bus.

### Chapter 16

"Why are you so quiet? Didn't the weekend go according to plan?" Rex asked.

I looked away from the point on the wall which I stared at for the last half hour. "No, but then again, I was not sure what to expect."

Rex frowned. "Didn't you spend time with Charlotte?"

I shook my head. "Yes, I did. But that's just it, something was off."

"Off like sour milk or off like rotten eggs?" Rex asked.

I smiled at my friend's analogy. "No, the milk's not quite sour yet, but it doesn't taste fresh either. Charlotte was happy to see me, but the entire weekend she was withdrawn. Thursday night she didn't stay over because she said she had college on Friday. That afternoon I wanted to meet her after college, but she said she would see my later. She didn't spend either Friday or Saturday nights with me, saying that she wanted to give me time with my family."

Rex rubbed a hand over his short-cropped carrot top. "Yeah, that sounds fishy. Do you think she has a new boyfriend?"

I shrugged. "What was even weirder, when I walked her home Saturday afternoon, her parents were stiff towards me. Normally they greet me like their long lost son."

"Have you done something to upset them?" Rex asked.

I thought for a moment. "Not that I am aware, and besides, the last time I saw them they were fine. No, whatever happened did so while I was away. The whole weekend I got the impression that Charlotte wanted to tell me something, but every time she stopped herself or changed the subject."

"Yeah, when it comes to girls, I'm clueless. That is why I'm still single," Rex said.

I swung my legs from my bed and moved into a sitting position. "Are any of the gang back yet?"

Rex shook his head. "Charlie's parents will bring him and George. Frankie had to catch the train from Cape Town, and there's no word on Frik yet."

Coming back to base by bus, we were always the first to arrive. We had to be back on Sunday before midnight, but the bus left Johannesburg at twelve noon and delivered us at the base at six. The ones travelling by own transport stretched it as far as they could.

"So what do you plan to do about Charlotte?" Rex asked.

"Not much I can do now. Will have to wait till our next pass and hopefully will get to find out what's going on with her."

For the next few days I didn't have much time to ponder on Charlotte. The days were filled with exams, more exams on the Ratel, an exam on night vision, and an exam on hand signals. With the signals the corporal named the signal and I had to demonstrate.

The night before the signal exam, Frankie made sure Rex and I knew all the correct signs. Of course it was done to great amusement of George, Charlie and Frik in the canteen, but ultimately it benefited us. Even Trevor, Manny and Eric joined us for the lesson with Frankie. Needless to say, we all passed the test with full marks.

Wednesday, we headed back to De Brug for more field exercises. My dad suggested that I get some pantyhose. He said they were good for keeping your legs warm during those cold nights. At first, I thought he made a joke, but shook my head when I saw he was serious.

Wearing girls' pantyhose under my overalls, I would never be able to live it down. But one thing I also learned was never to say never. It was now the middle of winter and although most days were tolerable, the night temperatures reached below zero.

Frik informed us the night before we headed out, that he received instructions to take food out to De Brug the following day for the section leaders. It would only be for the one night, but one night in that cold was one night too many.

"Do they want to get us all sick?" Trevor asked after the corporal informed us to pack our bags and grab our sleeping gear. At least we knew what to expect and packed as much extra warm clothing as we could fit into our backpacks.

It was shortly after sunrise when we mounted the Samils and made the cold trip to De Brug. I had the foresight to buy a pair of brown woolen-lined gloves while at home, which helped my hands.

We went to a different area of De Brug, a remote corner far removed from everything else. The fact that we were accompanied by a medical vehicle really had me worried.

Rex was the first to voice what we all felt. "That's never a good sign. What do you think they're planning that would require the medics to be on hand?"

We were about to find out.

Once we stacked our gear to the side, we reported in battle webbing and helmet.

Corporal Lewis let his glance slide over us. "Up to now, you have learned the basics of how things work. Now it's time to practice some of what you have learned."

He paused for a moment, staring into our anxious faces. "As a mechanized infantry unit, you'll be mobile most of the time. But certain situations might call for you to dismount your vehicle and fight on foot. To advance on an enemy position, you'll need to do it in a controlled fashion. It's best to advance under cover fire, it keeps the enemy pinned."

Rex and I looked at each other. My trigger-happy friend loved to shoot and blow up things, but was not too keen on someone shooting back.

The corporal continued. "If you advance in a single line, it is impossible to lay down effective cover fire and move at the same time. That's why you move in tandem."

To demonstrate the corporal lined six of the guys in a row. First the odd numbered guys would move forward, while the even numbered guys would pretend to lay down cover fire. Once the first group moved about fifteen meters ahead, they would crouch down and provide cover fire. The second group would then jump up and leapfrog them until they're in a position to provide cover again.

Quite a few of the guys looked worried. Dirk voiced their concern.

"Eh, Corporal, what if the guy moving forward runs in front of you?"

"Then he'll get shot." Corporal Danson answered.

I glanced over to the side where the medical vehicle was parked.

"But that is why you'll practice it before you'll do it with live ammunition," Corporal Lewis said.

We were divided into the usual sections and each squad practiced under the supervision of a corporal.

We started in a kneeling position, roughly three meters apart. The Corporal walked down the line and pointed at the guys. One, two, three.... He numbered us till ten. I was number three, Rex to my right, number four.

On the corporal's whistle, the line of odd numbers moved forward fifteen meters ahead. Once we crouched into position, Rex's group moved forward. On the second movement Rex ended right in front of me.

"Hey, Rex, you must move in a straight line. I just shot you in the ass," I yelled at him.

Rex looked around and realized he strayed off line.

Over the next few tries, Rex kept moving into my line. The guy could not keep in formation.

"Dumont, you're going to get yourself shot. Be aware of the people to your left and right. Always know exactly where your buddies are," Corporal Lewis said.

But twice more Rex ran in front of me. The corporals called a break and stood to the side in deep discussion.

"Do you run in front of me on purpose?" I asked.

Rex shook his head. "No. It's like my body is out of sync and I pull naturally to the left."

Trevor laughed. "There must be something wrong with your wheel alignment."

Although we joked about it, I was worried. What would happen if we used live ammunition? I didn't want to end up as the one who shot his friend.

But the corporals had a plan. After the break, we lined up once more. Corporals Danson and Lewis lined up either side of Rex.

"Dumont, we're going to do this again. Corporal Danson and I have live ammo. We're going to shoot straight ahead, and if you happen to run into our line, well, we have the medics on hand," Corporal Lewis said.

Rex turned pale. I was nervous too, because Corporal Lewis crouched to my right, and he would be shooting live ammunition.

Rex stuck his head forward, and looked past the corporal, at me.

"Chris, if I don't survive this, it was a pleasure to have known you."

"Fuck off. You still owe me a beer. Just run straight," I said.

"Ready?" Corporal Lewis asked, and before anyone could answer, Corporal Danson blew on his whistle.

The first line moved forward, including the two corporals. When they hunkered down into position, we got to our feet and advanced. Once passed Corporal Lewis, I took care to stay on my line, well clear of him. I looked to my right. Rex glanced around nervously, adjusting his line, first left, then right.

The next moment two shots rang out in quick succession as the corporals opened fire. I heard the sharp crack as a bullet whizzed through the air, and moments later, slammed into the nearby hill.

Acting on instinct, I dove down into the knee high grass. My heart pounded against my ribs, surrounded by the smell of dirt and dry grass. I lifted my head and look towards Rex, but there was no sign of him.

I moved onto my knees, retrieved my weapon from the ground, and glanced at the corporals. Did they shoot Rex?

"Dumont, are you still alive?" Corporal Lewis asked.

Rex's head popped up, his eyes big under the helmet.

"Fuck, that was close," he said.

The corporals laughed.

"No, Dumont, that was not even anywhere near you." Corporal Danson said.

I frowned and had to agree with Rex. That sounded real close. We took our positions and continued with the exercise. Twice more the corporals fired, and every time it sounded like the bullet just missed my ears, but in reality, it cleared me by more than twenty meters.

The exercise had one positive outcome. Rex never ran in front of me again. By the time Frik brought our brunch, we did a lot of practice runs.

"Shit, they almost killed me," Rex told Frik.

The chef's eyes widened and he looked at me in surprise. I shook my head.

"The corporals decided to teach him to run straight and fired a few rounds near him. He was never in any real danger," I said.

Rex threw me an accusing glance. His version of the story sounded more dramatic.

After lunch, we had to report for more fire and move drills. The corporals decided we did it well enough and were ready to do it for real. They handed us six bullets each. I looked at the shiny, brass cartridges which lay in my hand, so innocent, but so deadly.

We had plenty of practice shooting our rifles at the shooting range, but being out in the field felt different. It had a new purpose, and reminded us why we were trained.

Rex looked nervous. He watched as Corporal Lewis drop the bullets into Trevor's outstretched hand.

"Shit, they're giving him live ammo. He can't even shoot straight," Rex said.

Trevor grinned. "I shoot straighter than you run."

To be sure, Rex moved out of line from my right to my left.

Trevor snorted. "Yeah, great move. Did you see how straight Manny shoots?"

Rex glanced up into Manny's smiling face, then shook his head and moved back to his original position. He waved at the medics.

"I think you boys better move a little closer. This could get hairy."

They just stared at him.

I loaded the cartridges into the magazine and clipped it to my rifle. On the corporal's order, we cocked the weapons, and were ready to go. The weight of the bullets weighed the rifle down, and I made sure not to point it in the direction of any of my friends.

We took our positions, and when the corporal's whistle blew, I moved forward. After fifteen steps, I dropped my right knee and assumed the shooting position. There was nothing in particular to aim at, so I pointed the rifle straight ahead and squeezed the trigger.

My shot joined a volley of others, and moments later, Rex ran past me as I squeezed of my second shot. As Rex and the others crouched down, I aimed, careful not to aim near anybody, and squeezed of my third shot.

Our last shots coincided with the next group's first volley. As I ran past the line of forward people, they fired again. I concentrated hard to run in a straight line, and to stay out of the way of any bullets. I crouched down, and moments before I squeezed the trigger, I heard the bullets whizzed by from the group behind us with their last volley.

When the exercise ended we lined up, and the corporals looked please.

"That went better than expected. They're all still alive," Corporal Lewis said.

He said it with a straight face, so I couldn't tell if he only made a joke, or really was relieved that we were all still in one piece. Whichever way, it made us uncomfortable around the corporal.

When Frik brought our dinner, they also brought extra weapons and extra ammunition.

"What's that for?" I asked.

Frik shook his head and said, "I don't know. Sergeant Smith had it loaded and instructed me to deliver it with the food."

Rex and I stared at each other.

"Looks like they plan a small war, there are mortars, rockets and almost everything else," Trevor said.

Rex rubbed his hands together. "It appears that we're getting to blow up shit again."

### Chapter 17

After dinner, the corporals gave us time to relax. I used the opportunity to grab my gear and set up my bed for the night.

"You're going to bed already?" Trevor asked.

"No," I said. "But I don't care to do this in the dark again."

Soon everyone set up camp for the evening. Most followed my lead and arranged their sleeping quarters for the night. Like before, I used my bivvy to fashion a one man tent. It gave added protection against the cold and would keep the frost off my sleeping bag.

The corporals gathered a few guys and had them carry the weapons and ammunition to a small hollow at the opposite side of our campsite. As darkness descended on our camp, we lined up in formation near the site.

"Tonight we're having a night shoot so that you can see what it's like," Corporal Danson said.

We were divided into groups and reported at different positions in the line. Our first stop was the mortars.

"The mortar is not just an attack weapon, but can also be used for illumination," the corporal said.

To demonstrate, he pointed to the two piles of different ammo crates. In the first crate, the mortars were painted in dark green with the letters HE painted in bright yellow. The HE stood for High Explosive. The second crate contained mortars painted in white, with the letters painted in black, 60mm ILLUM.

The corporal instructed Dirk to hold the pipe at seventy degrees, took one of the mortars, armed it and dropped it down the tube. With a pop, the projectile was flung high into the air, almost straight up. As it reached its arc in the sky, there was a loud boom, and then a bright yellow light illuminated the area. A parachute deployed and the light hung in the air, slowing the drift down to earth and increasing the illumination period.

That was what the other corporals waited for, and the next moment all hell broke loose. Rockets and grenades exploded in a flash of bright lights, kicking up dust and rocks. To the far right, the LMG fired. Every fourth round in the ammunition belt of the LMG was loaded with a tracer. When the weapon fired, a trail of bullets was visible and you could follow the path of the bullets. Over the distance it travelled, you could follow every tracer moving at high speed. Against the night sky the flying bullets, the exploding rockets and various other weapons created a fireworks display of note.

It was quite a sight and easy to marvel at and forget the deadly intent of the weapons. But that evening we were like kids, enjoying the display, rather than concentrating on the purpose of our training. Rex was like a kid in a candy store, first in line to shoot everything.

The corporals chose the hollow because there was little grass, but every now and again a stray bullet or rocket will cause grass to the side to catch fire. One thing I have to say about the military, any exercise was always well planned.

If a fire started somewhere, the corporals would shout, "Cease fire!"

We would then secure all weapons and a few of the guys would jump onto one of the waiting Samil 20's. They would then use fire extinguishers to put out the fire before it spread. It was winter and the grass was dry. The corporals were well aware of the trouble they would be in if they burned down De Brug. It was a huge piece of land with lots of grass, and a runaway fire would be impossible to contain.

To end the evening's festivities, we had a fire and move exercise in the light of the mortars. It was an eerie atmosphere and had a different feel than when done in daylight. To make sure nobody got shot by accident, the corporals increased the space in the line between the guys, and on a forward run, we only advanced ten meters. For added background, they fired off a few mortars that flew over our heads and exploded in spectacular fashion well ahead.

That night when we crawled into our beds, we were all in awe with the fire power of the army, although we had only seen a fraction of its capability. It was easy to get caught in the raw experience, forgetting the purpose behind the training.

But that was what the army experience was all about. There were times when you sweat blood, so when the enjoyable moments came, you grabbed it with both hands and made full use of it. When the medics didn't have any work at the end of the night, the training mission was deemed a success.

The following morning we had to clean the area, retrieving all the spent shells and the remnants of exploded rockets and mortars. If we happened across an unexploded item, we simply marked it with a little red flag. After we left the area, a team of demolition guys from 1 Special Services Battalion would come clean after us, and dispose of the offending items in a controlled demolition. Something we as infantry only observed from a distance and hardly gave any attention.

By the time Frik brought brunch, we were ready to go. After we ate, we loaded the gear on the trucks and headed back to the base. There was no time to get cleaned, as we were ordered to the parade ground for drill practice.

"I thought we were done with this shit," Rex said.

I shook my head. "As long as you're in the military, you'll never be done."

I noticed the other companies also did drill practice.

"This looks like more than normal drills," Trevor said.

We had to wait till that evening in the canteen before any light was shed on the subject. When everybody was seated around the table, I looked at Frankie.

"So what's with the drills all of a sudden? We still have four weeks of training left, so it can't be for a pass out parade."

Frankie took a sip of his beer and smacked his lips together.

"I heard 1 SAI will be part of a parade in the city on Friday. We'll be marching through the streets of Bloemfontein."

"How exciting," Rex said with little enthusiasm.

"The university girls will be there in full force supporting the parade," Frankie said.

This made Rex take notice, and suddenly, around the table, there was a lot more interest in the parade.

The following day, Thursday, we did nothing but march up and down the parade ground. The section leaders joined Charlie Company, and Friday morning after breakfast, we reported to the parade ground in our best browns, dressed like we do when we have a pass.

After a brief inspection, our leaders were satisfied and we lined up in company formation. Three companies lined up inside the gates, Alpha, Bravo and Charlie Company. From my vantage point from the back, the bunch as a whole formed a striking unit.

The order came, and we marched through the gate, down the street. As we reached the main gate to Tempe, troops from 1 Parachute Battalion waited. They would follow behind us in the parade. The two units were dressed almost identical, with the major difference between 1 SAI and 1 Parachute Battalions, the berets. Ours were green, and their berets a deep maroon.

"There goes the neighborhood," Rex said next to me.

There was a deep seated rivalry between 1 SAI and the Bats, as they were known. We called them the Bats, and they referred to us as the Buck-heads, due the Springbok emblem on our berets.

The march through the city of Bloemfontein was some public relations stunt, but we didn't care. For a few hours we got out of the base and could watch pretty girls wave at us as we marched through the streets. Thousands of people lined the roads, and we marched proudly, presenting the pride of the South African Military.

There were a few television cameras present, and that evening on the news, our parents tried their best to identify their sons in the sea of brown.

Later in the canteen, we discussed the events of the day over a couple of beers. One thing we all agreed on was the fact that we were proud to be part of the military machine. Frik, who was not part of the parade, listened to our recount with great interest.

After a while he said, "Chris, I don't want to put a damper on your excitement, but I received word today that you guys would be spending the whole of next week out at De Brug."

Rex and I stared at our friend, searching his face, looking for any sign that he only made a joke. But Frik was not a cruel guy; he wouldn't play a joke like that.

"Shit!" Rex said and his shoulders slumped.

"They do realize it's the middle of winter?" I asked.

The nights at De Brug were brutal, and if we complained about the weather, the corporal's answer was, "War knows no weather." Although true, it was of no comfort to us.

"You guys should dress extra warm, I hear it's going to be cold next week," Frankie said.

I looked at my know-it-all friend, and a shiver ran down my spine just at the thought of the cold nights in my sleeping bag out in the open air.

"Frankie, you mentioned earlier that you're doing guard duty at the Armscor building in town tomorrow?"

Frankie frowned. "Yes, why do you ask?"

"Is it possible that you could get something at the shop while you're there?"

I stood guard there before and knew the shops around the building. It was not uncommon to stand guard at the building with a shopping list in your pocket. If you knew the driver who brings the change of guard, it was easy to sneak into one of the shops. As long as he received compensation, nobody would be the wiser.

He nods. "Sure, what do you want?"

I look at my friends and shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Maybe I should have asked Frankie in private, but now it was out there.

"Eh, there's a Pep Stores nearby. Do you think you can duck in there and buy me a pair of pantyhose?"

Frankie nodded his head like it was the most natural request in the world. "Sure, no problem. Do you want any specific color?"

"Brown's fine," I said.

The rest of the group looked at me in shock.

"What?" I said.

George shook his head. "Pantyhose? Like in a girl's pantyhose?" he asked, still not sure he heard right.

"Yeah, my dad says it helps against the cold, and if we're going to De Brug for a week, I need all the help I can get."

"Yeah, but pantyhose?" George asked.

"That place is fucking cold. I'll try just about anything if it would help keeping me warm. I hate being cold," I said.

Charlie stared at Frankie.

"And you're ok to go buy these things?"

Frankie shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Charlie shook his head. "I can't believe you're so casual about it. I would be too embarrassed."

"I have three older sisters. You get used to it."

Rex ran his hand through his hair.

"Well, if it's going to be that cold, you better get me some too."

"Oh my, the sickness is spreading," George said in disbelief.

"You mean you'll rather freeze your balls off?" I asked.

George narrowed his eyes. "Definitely."

I laughed. "Well, not me. I'm not a sucker for punishment."

Saturday afternoon when Frankie returned from guard duty, he dropped off a brown paper bag.

"I got the extra thick ones, they don't shear as easy and will work better," he said.

"I don't even want to know how he knows that," Rex said when Frankie walked away.

Monday morning when it got time to dress, I pulled the packet from my locker and pulled out the contents. I had seen my mother and sisters wear it, but never even held pantyhose in my hands.

The sheer nylon fabric was soft and remarkable light. I looked around nervously, but nobody paid attention. I was about to slip them on, when I heard a laugh.

"Rex, what the fuck you're doing?" Anton asked.

I looked up, and there stood Rex, wearing his brown pantyhose which he pulled over his jockeys. Several people burst out in laughter.

"Dam Rex, you look sexy," Paul said. "Can I be your date tonight?"

"Fuck off," Rex said.

He frowned, and then stared at the others.

"We're going to De Brug, in the middle of winter. Don't tell me you don't have your pantyhose? Boy, you're going to freeze."

"I have mine," I said in support of my friend and proceeded to pull them onto my legs. The material was soft and sleek against my skin.

"Eh, no," Anton said. "We didn't know that helped against the cold."

The laughter turned into looks of concern.

Unlike Rex, I didn't parade around in mine. Before anybody could have a decent look, I slipped on my socks and pants. The moment we stepped out of the bungalow, Rex and I became the envy of the rest.

An icy wind howled around the corner and it cut to the bone. The cold front that Frankie predicted had arrived during the night. The sky was a dark grey, and with no sun rays to warm up the earth, it promised a cold day.

It was with a heavy heart that we loaded the gear onto the trucks. On the trip out to De Brug, we all huddled together on the back of the truck. I had my weapon pinched between my knees and my hands stuffed inside my pockets.

When we reached De Brug, I noticed we were at the same place with the L-shaped trees that we spent our first cold night out. There was an extra truck with supplies, and the corporals tried to warm up their vocal cords by shouting even more than usual.

"Unload this gear. Move it, show some signs of life. This is not a fucking holiday! What's that? Oh, you're cold? Ok, everybody, two laps around the trees should warm your lazy asses."

Although I didn't mind the running, because it really did warm us, I had a bigger concern. It was only that start of the week, and judging by the corporals' attitude, we were in for a tough week.

### Chapter 18

We unloaded the gear and were happy to see tents. Although not quite as warm as our bungalows in the base, it was better than sleeping outside under the stars. We pitched the tents and set up the rest of the camp.

To the side, about fifty meters from the campsite, we had to dig a few holes. Four big holes at least a meter deep, and a few smaller ones. Over the large holes we placed two gum poles. On top of the poles we positioned a fiberglass dome toilet. In the smaller holes we buried fiberglass funnels to be used as urinals. We made sure that they were at a comfortable height.

Dirk measured the first one.

"Hey, this is too high," he complained.

Anton walked over to the urinal and said, "No, it is fine. Your legs are too short."

He then had to duck a flying funnel. In the end we made sure the funnels were buried at a comfortable height for everyone. Of course, privacy was non-existent. The area was fenced off with a sail fence, but inside the area, everything was open and in full view.

"The smokers better listen carefully," Corporal Danson said when we assembled. "If you throw your cigarette butts in the piss lilies or go-karts, and they get blocked, you will dig them out with your bare hands."

With the formalities out of the way, we got down to business. The reason we were out in the field that week was to learn and practice battle procedures. This comprised of everything from first receiving the warning order for an operation, to advanced map study, to preparing for the battle, and then ultimately, executing the operation.

Every person in the section had a specific role, and as a section leader you had to know each role to be an effective leader. Of course not everybody in the program would become section leaders; half of the group was destined to become section second in commands, but still had to know everything in case they had to take over from the section leader.

For the duration of the week in the field, we would do everything in our groups. We were also issued with two platoon weapons that we had to carry with us at all times. Whatever we did, the weapons had to go along. The patrol mortar wasn't that heavy and not too awkward either, but the LMG posed a challenge.

Rex received the LMG first, and posed proudly with the weapon.

"Look, I'm Rambo," he said.

"That's the skinniest Rambo I ever saw," Manny said.

After the first run around the trees with the weapons in tow, Rex was not that impressed with the heavy gun anymore. It was clear from the onset we would have no picnic in the field that week.

"Hey Rambo, you don't look that strong anymore," Anton said after another run.

"Fuck off," Rex mumbled. "This thing's fucking heavy."

We spent most of the morning doing map reading and studying the area. One of the most important aspects of a mission is reconnaissance. If you walk blindly into a situation, you don't know what to expect, and all kinds of surprises can be heaped on you. But with proper advanced information, you can prepare and know what to do and who to shoot.

After lunch we did more practical work. Each section went to a specific area, and scouted it. The corporal pointed out the best approach, the best possible position to deploy the LMG section to give cover fire, and any position that was good for an ambush.

Rex handed the LMG over to Dirk, and was visible relieved to be rid of the extra load. Later the afternoon, the corporal would give coordinates on the map, and we had to figure out where it was, and then hike there.

It was late in the afternoon when we walked back to camp and found Frik waiting for us with some hot food. Although only soup and bread, it was hot, and after a day in the field, tasted like the best meal we ever had.

If we thought we would have the evening to ourselves, we were sadly mistaken. The corporals grouped us all together and we did fire and move exercises in the dark. After sunset, the air got really cold, and it didn't take long before someone mumbled about the weather.

The corporals took it as dissent over our situation, and took it upon themselves to improve morale. We switched from fire and move, to running up and down, leopard crawl, carrying your buddy, roll down the hill and then more running.

At one point during the evening, I lay on my back and stared at the stars twinkling brightly in the sky. My rushed breath burned in my throat. Corporal Lewis towered over me.

"Dempsey, what the fuck you're doing? Not giving up I hope?"

For a second, I had to fight the urge to tell him to go to hell. I felt my anger rise to the surface like a volcano. Instead of directing it at the source of my rage, I jumped back to my feet and ran towards the rest of our suffering group.

"Just finding my second wind, Corporal," I said over my shoulder.

By the time we got to bed, it was close to midnight. Exhausted, I pulled my boots from my weary feet and crawled into my sleeping bag, my tired body aching. Rolling and crawling in the dark through the field, you don't see the rocks and sticks until you land on them.

When I woke the following morning, I moved with difficulty. My head felt stuffy, and I had a running nose. The last thing I needed was to get sick. I made my way to the medics' tent, and while they gave me some medicine, several other guys joined the queue. If it was the corporals' intention to make us sick, they succeeded.

"Shit, my head's killing me," Rex said when he sat up and held his head in his hands.

At least half the camp complained about sore throats and stuffy heads, but the corporals had no sympathy. I rubbed my hands together, trying to get some heat into them. Frost covered the earth and it looked like steam rose from the ground. Several guys hopped up and down trying to heat their bodies.

The corporals noticed this, and out of the goodness of their hearts, they chased us around the trees to warm our bodies. After two runs, we were sufficiently warmed to start our day's training.

We continued our map reading training and were informed that we would have a treasure hunt that evening. Each section would be given three coordinates, and we would then hike there, where the corporals would leave rewards for us. That was motivation enough to ensure we paid careful attention to the lessons for the day.

When Frik brought our brunch, it was merely powdered eggs and dry bread. He looked at me and apologized with his eyes. The corporals stood right behind him and warned him not to speak to any of us. It was not his fault we received the food we did. He only followed orders. The corporals were aware of our friendship with Frik, so kept a close eye on us, and made sure Frik didn't give Rex and me anything extra.

"Looks like they want to starve us to death now," Rex mumbled where we sat under the tree with our dixies, devouring the meager meal.

After lunch, we had to go for a hike. As a practice run for that evening, Corporal Lewis gave us coordinates, and we had to find the place and hike there.

After we walked for two hours, we stopped and stared at the surrounding area. There was nobody else in sight.

"I think we're lost," Trevor said.

"Yeah, this doesn't look anything like the corporal described," Manny said.

We looked at Corporal Lewis who walked behind us, following, but not saying a word.

"Corporal, are we even on the right track?" Anton asked, but the corporal found something rather interesting to stare at somewhere off in the distance.

"Let me see that map again," I said.

Paul fished the map from his webbing and handed it over with the instructions. I double checked the coordinates, and then saw where we went wrong.

"Ah fuck. We worked it out wrong."

I tapped a point on the map. "This is roughly where we're right now, and this is where we're supposed to be."

Corporal Lewis tried to hide a slight smile, but I knew I was right.

"Shit, how far is that?" Rex asked.

Trevor measure the distance with his hand and held his fingers in the air, his index finger and thumb three centimeters apart.

"It is only this much, how far can that be?"

I measured the distance using the legend at the bottom of the map.

"No, not that far. We only have to walk about five kilometers."

"What? Fuck!" Rex said from where he sat on the ground.

He removed his boots and massaged his sore feet. I took a sip from my water bottle, and dropped to my knees.

"Let's take a five minute break before we continue," I said and glanced over at the corporal.

He didn't say a word, and simply took a swallow from his bottle and continued to stare into the distance.

My stomach made an audible gurgle.

Rex growled.

"Yeah, I feel the same. I have a good mind to start grazing on this field grass."

Rex pulled a strand of grass and chewed on the stem.

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that. You don't know who pissed on it," Manny said.

Rex spit out the grass and rinsed his mouth.

"Well, we better get going or we won't make it back in time for dinner," I said.

That was inspiration enough to get everyone going, and we set off to our new target.

When we reached the new destination, we found a small red flag planted in the ground.

"This must be the spot," Eric said.

Corporal Lewis nodded. "Yes, it is. Now you better get us back to camp before you miss dinner."

We huddled over the map to determine which direction we should take to reach the camp. We worked out that we needed to walk in a north, north-easterly direction. While Rex, Anton and Manny argued which way that was, I consulted our compass, which was handled by Eric.

"Stop wasting time, it's that way," I said and pointed in the direction of a hill in the distance.

From our current position, our camp was nowhere in sight. After consulting the map, I realized, because of our detour that morning that we had more than six kilometers to cover.

I glanced at the watch on my wrist. "We better pick up the pace or we'll never make it, and I doubt they'll save us any food if we're late."

By the grin on Corporal Lewis's face, I was correct, and we increased our pace. When we rounded a small hill, the camp came into view in the distance. To the right, on the road into the camp, a cloud of dust announced that Frik's food truck was on its way.

"Shit! We're not going to make it," Rex said.

"Not if we keep walking, so I suggest we run," I said.

Without waiting for an answer, I broke into a run and the rest followed. We covered about half the distance when a panicked voice called from behind.

"Guys, I can't keep up," Eric said carrying the LMG.

I glanced at Rex, and we turned around and grabbed the big gun from Eric. I had it by the barrel and Rex by the stock, and then we set off for the camp, racing to make it for dinner.

When we ran into the camp, Frik still dished the food, so we sprinted for our tent and grabbed our dixies, joining the line just in time.

"Cutting it a bit close there," Frik remarked with a grin.

Still trying to find my breath, I merely nodded.

I found out later that Frik noticed we were not in the food line. He queried our absence and was told that we hadn't made it back yet. He took his time setting up for dinner, and when he saw us come running through the field, he dished even slower. Rex and I were thankful for our friend.

When I sat under the tree with the dixie on my lap, my hand shook so much from exertion, that I couldn't get the food from my dixie to my mouth without spilling any. I had to wait a few minutes to calm my breathing, and stop the shaking in my hand, before I was able to eat the mashed potatoes and sausage we had for dinner.

"Geez, that was close," Trevor said.

Another few minutes and we would have gone to bed that evening without food. After the meager breakfast we had, we could not afford to miss dinner. After we wolfed down the food, we made it to the zinc tubs to wash our dixies.

"Better scrub them good, or you'll sit with gyppo guts before the end of the week," Frik said.

"No worries," Rex said miserably. "There's nothing in my stomach to run."

Frik looked at us with sympathy, but there was nothing he could do to help. The corporals kept a close eye on him, and he was warned not to sneak us any extras. We knew Frik would make it up to us once we made it back to the base. There they have much less supervision over him, and he basically did as he pleased in the kitchen.

"Why don't they just give us rat packs for the day?" Anton asked.

Frik shook his head. "There's too much food in a rat pack. They want you to suffer."

I glanced at Corporal Danson, who heard every word. His wide grin showed that Frik's remark was spot on.

"See you in the morning," I said to Frik and ran to the tent to stow away my dixies.

The smokers didn't even have a chance to finish their after dinner smoke, before Corporal Danson blew on his whistle, and we had to gather in a formation.

The corporal waited for Frik's truck to depart, and then turned to us and said, "You have two hours to complete the hunt. Any treasure not found in that time should be considered lost. And talking about lost, do not wander astray in the dark, no one will come to find you."

### Chapter 19

I stared at the map in the fast disappearing light. The corporal handed us a piece of paper containing the coordinates of the three target sites. We had to work fast. The sun went down and night rushed in like a fast approaching unstoppable runaway train.

With the setting sun the last hints of warmth also disappeared. The light breeze made the cold air worse. It must have snowed somewhere in the south of the country. The wind moved over the ice and carried the cold, icy air to us.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, grateful for the stockings I wore under my overalls that kept my legs warm. The guys made fun of Rex and me when we first put them on, but the way they jumped up and down, I noticed the looks of envy cast our way.

"Which of the targets shall we find first?" Eric asked.

Anton marked all three targets on the map with a small X. I tapped the one closest to our camp.

"Let's start with this one. It's only about a kilometer away and should be just around that hill," I said and pointed to the small hill to our right.

"That's a good place to start," Rex said in support.

We moved out in single file with Anton in the lead, carrying the map. Darkness settled on the land and the stars twinkled merrily in the night sky. With no moon, it would be a dark night. Every few minutes Eric consulted the compass with a flick of his lighter to ensure that we stayed on the right track.

Progress was slow and Anton only noticed the obstacles when he stumbled into or over them. I heard a crash and then Anton let rip with a string of obscenities.

"What happened?" Rex asked.

Anton walked right into a small bush, and in the fall, received a nasty gash to his right cheek. Eric flicked his lighter, and saw the blood dripping from Anton.

"Damn, you're bleeding," he said.

Anton wiped the blood from his cheek with a handkerchief.

"I'll live," he said and struggled back to his feet.

Eric took a closer look at the wound.

"Ouch, that's going to leave a mark."

"Maybe now we can distinguish him from Paul," Manny said.

The fact that the twin brothers were difficult to tell apart, caused much confusion. They had different personalities, but identical in appearance.

I glanced to my left, and in the distance I could see flashes of light from the other squads. The corporals said nothing about using light, but if an enemy watched our operation, they would know exactly where every squad was at that moment.

Half an hour after we left the camp, we reached our first target.

"What does it look like?" Dirk asked.

"Corporal Danson said we'll know when we see it, so search for anything out of the ordinary," I said.

"Couldn't they just tell us what the fuck we're supposed to find?" Rex said.

Manny laughed.

"Now what fun would that be?"

"Ok guys, spread out. Whatever we're searching for has to be around here somewhere," I said.

Two minutes later Colin said, "Hey, I think I found it."

We all rushed to his position. He pointed at a plastic ammo crate under a small bush. I grabbed the crate and lifted the lid. The box contained two glow sticks.

Rex grabbed them and said in disgust, "That's it? Nothing to eat?"

"Rex, you only think off your tummy," Trevor said, but we all felt the same.

Rex chuckled. "No, that's not the only thing."

"Ok, we're wasting time. Let's see where we need to go next," I said.

I shook one of the sticks and then broke it in half. The stick emanated a soft, yellow-green light, and we examined the map. I pointed at the cross closest to our position.

"Let's head there, it's not far. That way our last target will also be closest to the camp site," I said.

Eric pulled his compass from his battle jacket, and the needle danced around without giving a specific reading.

"Shit, I think it's broken," Rex groaned.

I shook my head. "No, it's not broken. Paul, don't stand so close with that LMG. The metal in the gun interferes with the compass."

With everyone moving to the side, Eric was able to get an accurate direction.

I slapped Eric on the shoulder. "Lead the way"

"And watch for the bushes," Anton said and touched the side of his face where the blood had now dried.

We moved in single file with Eric leading the way. In his right hand he held the compass and made sure we stayed on track. In his left, he held the glow stick. The next moment Eric, the compass, and the glow stick disappeared.

We all stopped dead in our tracks.

"Where did he go?" Trevor asked.

"Eric?" Anton said.

From the ground we heard a muffled voice.

"Fucking son of a bitch!"

I stepped forward, taking care to test each step before I planted my foot, and then saw him.

Eric lay flat on his back at the bottom of a trench. "Who the fuck digs holes in the middle of nowhere?"

"Are you ok?" I asked.

He grabbed the fallen glow stick and searched the bottom of the trench for the compass. When he found it, he struggled to his feet.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but I could have broken my neck. Hey, there's something down here."

Trevor dropped to his knees and peered into the trench. "What is it?"

"It is another ammo crate."

"That's not ours. Must belong to one of the other sections," I said and looked around, but there was no sign of anybody.

"Be careful, it might be booby trapped. I don't want to pick up your pieces all over the field," Rex said.

"Rex, fuck off. Who would place a booby trap where we're training?" Eric opened the crate with caution, just in case.

"It's two packets of biscuits."

"At last, some food," Rex said.

"But it's not ours," Anton stated the obvious.

Dirk snorted. "Finders keepers, besides, the corporals never said anything about not snatching other people's loot. Do you think that if they ran across anything that's supposed to be ours it will be left alone?"

I shrugged. "Probably not. Ok, take it. We can decide what to do with it later. We're wasting valuable time."

I gave him a hand and pulled him from the one-and-a-half meter deep trench. Frankie would have a perfectly good explanation why there was a long trough out in the middle of an open field, but I had none.

The ditch was only a meter wide and we cleared it easily with a well timed jump. Progress was now even slower, because not only did Eric have to ensure that we stay on the right course, he also had to check for hidden trenches.

Eventually we reached the second target area. I looked around but there was no sign of anything.

"Let's widen the search area. It has to be here somewhere," I said.

We spread out and made the search circle bigger, feeling our way around in the dark.

After a five minute search, Trevor shouted, "Here it is!"

We all rushed over to where he found another ammo crate hidden behind a rock. Rex pulled the lid from the crate and inside found two full rat packs, still sealed.

"Now that's what I'm talking about. Finally, some real treasure," he said.

"We can divide the loot later. We don't have much time left and need to get to that third target," I said.

Rex held one rat pack out to me, but Manny grabbed it and said, "I'll carry that."

I shrugged. "Let's get a move on. Anton, let's see that map."

We studied the location of the third target and found it was due north. I looked at my watch and saw that we only had thirty-five minutes left.

"We better hurry, we're running out of time," I said.

Eric led the way with the compass and the glow stick, and we followed in single file. Five hundred meters further, we ran into another section.

"Hey guys, we're a little lost. We're trying to find our second treasure. It should be around here somewhere," one of them said.

I was sure they were on their way to the trench, but were a long way off target. Derrick Green, the bully, and his buddies were also in that group, which made me feel less guilty for taking their loot.

"No sorry, we haven't seen anything." Paul said.

"And we can't help you look either. We're still trying to find our own," Trevor said.

We left the confused group behind and made our way towards our own target. They still walked by lighter light, so didn't find their glow sticks yet.

Eric stopped. "Eh guys, this stick is done. I can't see anything."

"Use the other one. No use saving it," Rex said.

Eric pulled the second stick from his pocket, gave it a shake, and then broke it in half. In the stillness of the night, I heard the crunch as the inner glass tube broke and released its fluid into the outer casing. Moments later the chemicals mixed and emitted a soft glow, providing us light to aid in our search for treasure.

"We're back in business," Eric said and led the way, moving as fast as he dared. We only had twenty minutes left to locate the third crate.

As we trekked through the knee-high grass, I tried to follow in the footsteps of the guy in front of me, in this case, Manny. If you stepped out of line, it was easier to trip over a hidden rock in the dark. Eric walked with the glow stick as close to the ground as he could, but still found some rocks. At least if he tripped, the rest of us knew to watch our step.

When we reached the last point marked on our map, we only had minutes remaining. On a lonely rock, outlined against the starry sky, Corporal Lewis observed our efforts with his whistle in his hand.

I glanced at my watch. "Guys, this is the area. Spread out and search fast. We only have a few seconds left."

Having been through two search areas before, we knew that the corporals hid the treasure in a plastic ammo crate. The problem was that the crate was dark brown and became virtually invisible in the night.

To ensure we didn't miss it by accident, we searched more with our hands than our eyes. Every now and again you heard a,"Oh shit," or, "fuck," when someone found a small thorn bush instead of a plastic crate.

The sands of the hourglass had all but run out, and we scurried around in a frenzy, desperate to find the third piece of the hunt.

"Found it!" Rex yelled, a split second before a loud explosion sounded through the night.

A corporal set off a thunder flash back at the camp to mark the end of the hunt. The rest of the supervising corporals blew their whistles. Unsure where the rest of my friends were, I looked around and found Eric, still carrying the glow stick.

I made my way over to him. "Eric, hold that glow stick in the air so that everyone can see where to gather."

Rex carried the last crate, and even in the dim light his wide smile was visible.

"Aren't you scared your teeth will catch a cold?" Manny asked.

Rex opened the crate.

"Ah look, more....," but an elbow in the ribs cut him short.

"What the...," he started before he snapped the meaning of the nudge in the side.

"What's in the box?" Trevor asked with a voice as innocent as a newborn puppy.

"Wow, it's biscuits." Rex tried to sound surprised, but failed dismally.

If Corporal Lewis suspected anything, he didn't say a word.

He stood with his hands on his hips. "Did you find all three crates?"

"Yes, Corporal," we replied in one voice.

"Good. Now take us back to camp, I'm freezing my ass off out here."

Anton pulled out the map, and in the light of the glow stick we tried to determine the correct direction. Before we could finish, Corporal Lewis rubbed his hands together and blew on them to try and warm his cold fingers.

"Ah fuck it. Follow me," he said and started walking without waiting for us to follow. We didn't hesitate and set off after the corporal.

One by one the groups entered the camp. Only two groups found all three treasures, but most found two.

Five minutes after we arrived, Derrick's group marched into the camp very upset. After the corporals dismissed us for the night, I walked past them and overheard Derrick complaining.

"We finally managed to find our second target at the bottom of a fucking trench. Either the corporal's have a sick sense of humor, or someone else stole our fucking stuff."

When we ran into Derrick's group out in the field, we came from a completely different direction, so we were not on his suspect list. In the safety of our tent, we divided our loot evenly between the ten of us. Although not much, it was enough to still the hunger pains for the night.

Between the two rat packs, there was enough for four cups of coffee and two cups of tea. I split a fire bucket of coffee with Rex, and before we went to sleep, we had coffee and biscuits.

"Shit, this must be the best biscuits I ever had," Rex said with a full mouth.

"Did you see Derrick's face?" Trevor asked in a hushed tone, and I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to stop a fit of laughter. Most of the guys in Derrick's squad were part of the group that jumped Rex and me at the start of the program. We considered that payback.

During our time in the military we went through a lot of hardships, but moments like that evening created memories to cherish forever.

I removed my boots and crawled into my cold sleeping bag with a smile on my face. Despite everything that happened, I had a good day.

### Chapter 20

The following morning when I stepped out of the tent, a blast of cold air hit me in the face, which made me gasp. I glanced towards the east where a soft orange glow formed against the clear open sky. During the course of the night the clouds cleared, which also released the little heat that was trapped within the cloud cover.

In the faint light, millions of tiny crystals sparkled from the frost that formed an icy blanket on the ground. I made my way over to the piss lilies to answer the early call of nature. After I made my way back to the tent, I grabbed my water bottle and let a little water into my cupped hand.

I splashed it on my face and rubbed the remaining sleep from my eyes. That was as much of a wash I would get for the day. I only had one liter of water left and was unsure when we would receive more.

From the previous night's loot, I had one biscuit left, and munched on the hard, dry biscuit, which I washed down with a swallow of water. That was the extent of my early breakfast, and had to do until Frik brought brunch, which wasn't for another four hours.

As night gave way to a new day, the camp came to life.

"Morning. Aren't you a bright ray of sunshine," I greeted Rex.

Rex was not a morning person, and being out in the field, made his condition worse. His freckled face had a sour expression and his shoulders slumped.

"Why are you so fucking cheery?" he asked.

"It's going to be a beautiful, sunny day, and we're sure to do more army stuff," I said.

He mumbled something nobody understood, and kept it up all the way as he marched out off the tent over to the toilet area.

"What's biting him?" Trevor asked.

I shook my head. "He woke up. Hopefully we get to shoot or blow up something today. That's a sure way to put a smile on his face."

Trevor shook his head. Rex's fondness for blowing things up was well known.

The sun had barely crept above the horizon when Corporal Danson blew his whistle and we gathered in formation. That morning, besides carrying my normal rifle slung across my back, I also had to carry the LMG. The big gun was bulky, heavy and uncomfortable.

"We're going for some early morning training out in the field," Corporal Danson announced.

He called ten guys forward and instructed them to grab the five ammunition crates. With a person on each side of the ammo crates, we all set off into the field on a march in formation. As we left the shadows of the trees, the rays of the sun felt warm on my face.

Some guys still wore their big coats, but with carrying the LMG, it was just too uncomfortable, and I left mine in the tent. Half an hour of marching through the field, the guys with the coats started to sweat.

We followed a rough path through the grass. In the daylight it looked different compared to the previous night when we did our treasure hunt. Soon, we reached an area that looked strangely familiar.

I recognized the trench Eric fell into, and where we discovered the extra loot. I looked at Rex, and he also had a question mark on his face. Did Corporal Lewis put two and two together and figured out we were the ones who took Derrick's biscuits?

For a moment my heart raced and my knees knocked anxiously together. I had no desire to be humiliated in front of the entire platoon. Corporal Lewis gave me a knowing look, and if he had any doubt, the guilty look on our faces was confirmation.

Corporal Lewis stepped forward.

"Some of you ran across these trenches last night," he said.

Somewhere behind me I heard Derrick's voice.

"Yeah, and stole our damn biscuits."

"You should have found them before anybody else did," Corporal Lewis said with a slight smile. "But that's not why we're here. We're going to do some trench training today. We'll show you the correct way to clear a trench if there's a hidden enemy."

I glanced at Rex and we both breathed a sigh of relief. The trenches covered an area a hundred meters in length and followed a zigzag pattern. The guys carrying the crates were instructed to put them at the one end, where the trenches started in a big open chamber.

Corporal Danson flipped the lid of the first crate. It was stacked with hand grenades. At the sight of the grenades, Rex's eyes lit up and his mood improved instantly. We were about to make things go boom.

"You learned how to use grenades in basics, and today we'll have a practical application. Using grenades to clear a trench is very effective, but also highly dangerous, so pay careful attention," Corporal Lewis said.

We lined up next to the trench, looking down into the furrows dug in the earth. Corporals Danson and Lewis jumped down into the trench before Corporal Lewis explained.

"Effective trenches are normally dug in this zigzag pattern, and from down here, you can't see what is around the next corner. For this exercise we'll use the leapfrog method. When you reach the corner, the person at the front will toss a grenade around the corner, while the second person will be in the ready position to fire his rifle. Once the grenade explodes, dash into the opening and cover that hallway. If anything's still moving, you shoot it."

After a brief demonstration, it was time to put it into practice. When the first group went through, we had to stand back and could not see what they did, but the explosions of the grenades spewed out clouds of dust and dirt. Of course, it was only a practice so we didn't use live grenades.

When it was our turn, we climbed down the wooden ladder into the starting chamber. We each received two grenades, which we put into the grenade pockets of our battle webbing.

The walls of the trenches were rough, and because of the cold, we all had the sleeves of our overalls rolled down, giving our arms added protection. Luckily I was allowed to leave the LMG. The big gun would have been awkward to handle in the confines of the tunnels.

We reached the first corner and lined up against the wall. Anton was in the lead and he reached into his pocket and lifted the grenade. Sitting on his haunches, he rested his rifle against his leg, pulled the safety pin and tossed the grenade around the corner.

Four and a half seconds later, a deep boom echoed through the trench, and pieces of dirt from the walls rained down on me. With the explosion, Paul moved into the corner and made the, "tap tap," sounds to imitate the firing of two rounds.

Three corners later, I was in the lead. I had the grenade in my right hand, and rested my rifle against my leg. With the middle finger on my left hand, I gripped the ring of the safety pin, twisted it to unhook it from its safety position, and yanked the pin.

I leaned forward and threw the grenade around the corner. A loud ping sound indicated that the lever released, arming the grenade. Rex grabbed his rifle tighter, and anticipated the explosion. Almost at the same time the grenade went off, Rex jumped into the opening and received a face full of dust for his efforts.

"Fuck!" Rex shouted as he spit out a mouth full of dirt.

"Yeah Dumont, that's what happens when you jump the gun. If that was a live grenade, you would have been ripped to shreds by the shrapnel," said Corporal Danson. He observed our progress from the top.

After we all had two turns, we got it down pat. By the time we climbed out of the trenches, one of the corporals blew his whistle. Frik had arrived with food. Instead of running back to the camp in a formation, one of the corporals shouted, "Last ten back to the camp don't get any food."

"Ah shit," I said. I slung my rifle around my shoulders and ran to where I left the LMG. I picked up the heavy gun and joined the mad scramble back to camp. Hampered by the extra weight, I knew I would not make it. Ten guys carried LMG's, and although I outran all of the other carriers, I still would not have made it.

The next moment I heard footfalls next to me and glanced to my right.

"Give me the one end," Rex said.

Without hesitation I thrust the barrel end into his outstretched hand, grabbed the LMG by the stock, and together we increased our pace. We were one of the last that made it back to the camp, but not in the last ten.

Corporal Lewis glared at us and looked back to where the others carrying the LMG's trailed by more than fifty meters.

"One would have thought by now that you would have learned not to leave your buddies behind. Everybody, except Dumont and Dempsey, go help them."

I placed the LMG on its bipod and stood with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

"Thanks," I said.

Rex shook his head. "No worries. You're always there for me."

The guys brought back the LMG carriers and together we lined up in a formation.

Corporal Lewis stared at us with an amused look on his face.

"Well, what're you waiting for? You better go get your dixies or your food will be cold."

We all hurried back to our tents, grabbed our dixies, and joined the food line. Frik and his crew were experienced in dishing food and the line moved swiftly. When it was my turn, the first guy dropped a pork sausage in my pan. Frik was second in line and dropped as much powdered scrambled eggs in my pan as one spoonful could hold.

"Hey, Chris, how are you?" Frik inquired.

"Yeah, not too bad, thanks. How about you?" I asked.

Before Frik could answer, Rex remarked from next to me.

"You're always a ray of fucking sunshine. This is a shithole."

Frik laughed.

"I see he's his usual cheery self. Charlie and George are also out here. Charlie's group has a firing exercise at the far side, while George and his clan do some driving stuff near the shooting range."

"I hope George hasn't rolled any more Ratels," Rex smirked.

Poor George would never live that one down.

I grabbed my two slices of bread, filled my fire bucket with coffee, and found a spot under the trees to enjoy my breakfast. Frik was one hell of a cook, but not even he could make the rubbery powdered eggs taste any better. But we were starved and wolfed down the meal without paying too much attention to the taste.

After we washed our dixies, we had twenty minutes before the corporals called us to order. The smokers used the time to puff away. Since we joined the military, the group of smokers tripled. A lot of the guys took up the habit; even Rex had an occasional puff. He said it was to calm his nerves.

With our lunch break done, the corporals gathered us in a huge circle under the trees. In the middle of the circle, they built a model of the area. Only then did I notice Sergeant Major Wise where he stood to the side under a tree.

"Our recon teams have confirmed enemy activity in this area," he said in his booming voice. He pointed a long stick towards the area near where we did our trench training.

"What's the enemy doing out here?" Derrick asked sounding nervous.

The sergeant major sighed.

"It's a simulation you twat. The enemy's not really there."

Derrick sighed and gave a foolish smile.

"Of course, sorry, sir."

"Now pay attention and don't interrupt me again. Tomorrow morning we're going to mount an attack on this position. The Ratels are all busy with training, so we'll have to go in, on foot."

For the next hour, he took us through the battle plan. Where we would deploy, where we expected to draw fire, what formation we would follow and, more importantly, if we were successful, we would return to the base. If not, we'll stay and practice it until we got it right.

After the sergeant major concluded his plan, the corporals took us into the field beyond the trees to practice. Every section walked in single file roughly twenty meters apart. When a corporal blew on his whistle, indicating that we made contact, we deployed in one straight line.

First, the LMG sections were deployed to higher ground to give cover fire. I still carried the LMG, and Rex acted as my second, carrying the ammunition. We got to our position, deployed the LMG and pretended to give cover fire. A corporal waved his arms to indicate we were in position, upon which Corporal Lewis blew his whistle, and the rest of the guys executed a fire and move.

From my vantage point it actually looked quite impressive. If I was in an enemy position and saw that headed my way, I would be quite worried. Add a few Ratels and I would be shitting myself.

The aggressive shouts from the guys echoed across the plain, and bounced off the hill in the background.

"I think I need to make sure that I become a section 2IC," Rex said. "Then I can relax here up on the hill with the LMG section. You can be the section leader, but you have to run around with them down there."

I smiled at my friend who always worked everything at an angle. After doing the exercise several times, the corporals called it quits for the day. The sun was already low in the sky when we returned to camp, and found an irritated chef. Frik brought the food two hours earlier, but was told to wait until we returned.

He also brought a water tanker in tow, and we got to fill our empty water bottles. That night we retired early to the tents, sure in the fact that the following day would be a big one. Rex was excited, but just like me, was also nervous. The exercise might sound like fun, but lots of real bullets would be flying around.

### Chapter 21

It was before 06:00 when the corporals made enough noise to raise the dead, ensuring we were up and ready to go. Because it was the middle of winter, there was no sign of the sun yet, and we had to run around in the dark.

By the time I got dressed and visited the toilet area, the night sky slowly made way for the approaching day. When we lined up in formation, there was enough light I could observe the landscape around me.

It was another cold night and a thick layer of frost covered the ground, and made it feel like we stood inside a fridge. Corporal Danson looked almost as miserable as Rex.

"Due to the battle today, there will be no food truck. Instead you will be issued with a rat pack. If you do well in the battle today, we'll be back in the base by tomorrow morning. I can do with a hot shower and a hot meal, so I suggest you don't fuck it up, or you'll spend the whole day tomorrow running up and down in the field over there."

There it was, and the message was clear. Do not fuck up. We didn't mind the field rations as it provided more food and goodies than we got from the food truck. Because the corporals kept a close eye on Frik when he delivered the food, he was unable to sneak us any extras.

"We'll gather again at 07:00, so be ready to move out at that time." Corporal Danson said before he disappeared into his tent.

I grabbed my rat pack and fetched my fire bucket.

"Where are you headed?" Rex asked.

"Coffee," I answered and went to the nearest tree. I collected a few small rocks and built a small fireplace. We were not allowed to use wood for a fire, but they said nothing about using the fuel tablets in our rat packs.

I placed one of the round, paraffin soaked tablets in the middle of the fireplace and lit a match. When I got it going, I filled my fire bucket with water and placed it on the fire.

"That's too much water for one coffee," Rex said.

"Yeah, I know. I still have to wash my face and why do I have to do it with ice water?"

"Good thinking," Trevor said and filled his fire bucket. Rex and the rest followed suit, and soon there were a lot of small fires heating water. I munched on the small packet of raisins while I prepared my porridge.

After draining the plastic bag with the porridge, the water was warm enough, and I pour half the bucket into my dixie, and replaced the makeshift kettle back on the fire. With my towel draped over my shoulder, I stepped to the side and poured some of the water in my cupped hand.

I splashed the lukewarm water on my face and washed the remaining sleep from my eyes. After spending most of the week either washing with ice cold water, or skipping it altogether, that morning wash was heavenly.

When I returned to my fire, I was surprised to hear someone whistle. Rex spread the processed cheese over a dog biscuit, whistling some unknown tune.

"You sound happy today?" I said.

Rex nodded.

"We have food, and get to shoot stuff today."

I laughed. "Food and guns, is that all you ever think about?"

Rex smiled and shook his head. "No. There are no girls around, well maybe Trevor, so I stick with the food and guns."

"Fuck off," Trevor said from his fire and threw a small rock Rex's way, which he ducked easily.

I held a protective hand over my fire bucket. "Hey watch it! If you two get sand in my coffee, I'll make you both scream like girls."

A few moments later the water started to boil. I pulled my overall's sleeve over my hand, and removed the hot fire bucket from the fire. I scratched in the rat pack and found two envelopes of sugar and a sachet of coffee. The coffee had powdered milk mixed with the coffee powder. I stirred it with the spoon from my pick-set and took a sip.

I closed my eyes as the taste of coffee filled my being and savored the moment. With the coffee I also had two of the hard biscuits that came with the rat pack. I took a roll of the processed cheese, poked a tiny hole in the side, and squeezed the contents onto the biscuit. It made for a great sandwich.

"This is a great breakfast," Rex said with a mouth full of porridge.

Even Charlie, who grew up in luxury, would have agreed to that. Out there in the field we learned to appreciate the little things.

With breakfast done, we cleaned what we used and left no trace of the makeshift fireplaces. When the corporal blew his whistle, we assembled under the trees in a neat platoon formation. Even in the field, the military demanded discipline and order.

"Ok, boys, time to get started. First, gather your ammo over there from Corporal Danson. Then load your magazines, but do not clip them to your rifles yet. Keep them in the top right hand magazine holder of your battle jackets," Corporal Lewis instructed.

We made our way over to the ammo tent where Corporal Danson handed us each a box of bullets. The box contained thirty rounds, just enough to load one magazine. The guys carrying the LMGs received two belts with ammo for the big gun.

Whoever was assigned as the second to the LMG gunner for the day, had to carry the ammo. I smiled at Rex.

"Aren't you glad that we don't have to carry that today?"

He nodded and looked at Anton and Paul, who received that duty.

Once fully loaded, we headed out to the gathering point. Sergeant Major Wise, Sergeant White, and several other corporals waited there. The proceedings for the day required careful monitoring. With live ammunition involved, things could get hairy and they took extra precautions to ensure no accidents happened.

Two sections were assigned to one corporal. For us it was something new and exciting, but the sergeants and the corporals took the exercise serious, and allowed no fooling around.

We started walking in section formation, the sections roughly fifty meters apart. No talking was allowed, and the only communication was done via hand signals. We were instructed not to load our weapons until we see red smoke.

Everything that we had practiced that week, we put into reality that day. Some of the things we had to do didn't make any sense at the time, but when we took part in the exercise, it all became clear.

We were still more than a kilometer from our target, but in the distance we heard intense shooting intermingled with an occasional loud explosion. Suddenly it was not a game anymore, and quite a few anxious glances were exchanged.

My heart rate increased, and although an icy wind swept across the plain against my face, my hands sweated where it held the rifle. The magazine loaded with bullets weighed heavy in the battle jacket, the awareness threatening to pull me down.

I glanced behind at Rex and noticed the strain on his face. I gave him an encouraging smile, and his eyes relaxed a little. The corporal raised a fist, the signal to halt. I looked over to my left and saw all the other sections also came to a stop.

Without looking back, Corporal Danson spread his arms, indicating that we should deploy in a line formation. Once in position, we continued our slow forward progress. The shooting got clearer and the booms of something exploding in the distance got louder with each step.

I was nervous, but have practiced this, and concentrated on what I learned. I made sure I stayed in formation and kept the line. We made our approach in one wide, spread out line. With every step the anticipation built, and I took a tighter grip on my rifle.

On a signal from the sergeant major, the LMG gunners and their seconds deployed to the rises on both flanks, ready to provide cover fire. They had quite a distance to cover, and the corporals slowed our pace to allow them time to get into position.

To my right, Rex glanced my way, his eyes filled with wild excitement. To my left, Trevor stared straight ahead, his body tight with tension. There was a slight lull in the shooting ahead, and then I noticed a trail of white smoke. It disappeared into the grass a hundred meters ahead.

There was a soft pop, and then red smoke filled the air. That was our signal. With trembling hands, I pulled the pocket flap on the battle jacket and the Velcro ripped apart. I lifted the loaded magazine, which felt heavy in my hand.

With a deep breath to steady my hand, I clipped the magazine to my rifle, cocked the weapon, and ensured the selector was in the safety position. The loaded weapon had a different feel in my hands, which reminded me of Jekyll and Hyde. She was no more sweet and innocent, but loaded and dangerous.

The corporal gave the signal and once more we moved forward. All the firing ahead of us had stopped. The soft footfalls of our boots as it crunched the dry grass underneath, the only sound.

"Get ready," the corporal ordered.

I moved the selector to the rapid fire position, aimed the weapon forward, and then all hell broke loose.

Directly in front of us, fifty meters ahead, a large explosion threw dust and debris high into the air. Mortars rained down on the target area, and to the side, four Ratels stood in a line, their canons firing into the targets. Several empty oil drums had been placed around the area, providing targets.

Then the firing stopped, and Sergeant Major Wise shouted the order, "Fire and move!"

They numbered the members of our squad, and as per prior arrangement, all the even numbered guys rushed forward. Up on the flanks the LMG's started firing, spraying a deadly volley of bullets towards the drums, laying cover fire.

I moved fifteen paces forward, dropped on one knee, took aim at an oil drum ahead, and squeezed the trigger. The weapon hit my shoulder with a slight kick, a split second before the loud crack of the shot reached my ears. A small puff of smoke on the oil drum confirmed my hit.

As Rex passed to my right, I fired another shot. When they moved into position and started to shoot, I jumped up and ran forward, making sure I kept my position and didn't stray into someone else's firing line.

With the adrenalin coursing through my veins, every sense was heightened. I was aware of everything that happened around me, and made sure I fitted into the picture perfectly.

We kept up the leapfrog maneuver until we were almost on top of the drums. As we ran out of ammunition, things got quiet, but we kept moving. Rex rushed forward, crouched down, and searched for something in the grass.

The next moment he jumped up and threw rocks at the drums.

By then, everyone ran out of ammo and silence filled the battle ground. When one of the rocks struck the drum with a loud clang, the sergeant major shouted, "Cease fire!"

He walked over to Rex and said, "Dumont, what the fuck was that?"

"Eh, I ran out of bullets, Sergeant Major."

The huge man with the handle bar moustache stood with his hands on his hips, and for a moment, left speechless. Then he slowly shook his head.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?'

Rex swallowed hard. "Maybe just a little, Sir."

The sergeant major glared at Rex, and I was sure he thought of all kind of ways to heap punishment on us, but instead, he turned to the corporals.

"Take the troops and assemble them at the ant hill."

"Ok, you heard the Sergeant Major, follow me and move it!" Corporal Danson shouted, not wasting an opportunity to score a few brownie points.

We assembled clear from the target area, next to a giant two meter high ant hill. The Sergeant Major stared at us.

"Not bad for your first time. If that was a real enemy, they would all be dead. If any did survive the battle, they will have a concussion," he said and glanced sideways at Rex. He turned to the sergeant.

"There might be hope for this sorry bunch. Get them back to camp. They need to clean up the place before the head back to base."

Sergeant White smiled, and I think that was the first time I ever saw him smile.

"Not bad. Not bad at all. You will still practice this many times before you deal with the real thing." He turned to the corporals.

"Get them back to the camp before their heads get too big."

Since we started our military training we rarely received any praise, and savored the moment. All five seconds of it.

After the corporals made sure all our weapons were safe, they took us on a run back to the camp. We passed the four Ratels that provided the background music for our battle, and the guys were so busy looking at the vehicles, they ran into each other. Luckily for us, the prospect of a hot shower and a warm meal put the corporals in a good mood, and we only had to endure some swearing.

We broke down the camp and loaded all the equipment onto the waiting trucks in record time. Some guys covered the holes in the toilet area with dirt, and then we did a quick chicken parade through the camp to ensure not even as much as a cigarette butt stayed behind.

We mounted the trucks, and it was with great relief that we left.

"I for one will definitely not miss this place," Rex said. A choir of voices agreed. Although we would not miss the place, we would always remember it fondly. After a week in the field, it was good just to see sign of civilization again. We waved and cheered at the civvies driving past. As we drove into the base, I looked at Rex.

"Welcome home, my crazy friend."

Rex laughed. "Yes, it's good to be back."

### Chapter 22

After a hot shower and some clean clothes, I felt human again. We made it back to camp in time for dinner, and appreciated the plate of hot food. With no corporals looking over his shoulder, Frik made sure Rex and I received extra helpings.

That evening the Lieutenant brought a box of mail and I received three letters, one from my mother, one from my pen pal, Karen, and the third from Charlotte. I picked Charlotte's, tossed the other two to the side and ripped the plain yellow envelope.

Darling Chris, the letter started, which was a good start. I feared for a, Dear Chris, a line a soldier never wanted to see. She went on to say how good it was to see me again and that she missed me. She then continued about how her brothers went on a fishing trip and that her parents did well.

I read the letter twice, before I laid it in my lap and stared at the page.

"Something wrong?" Rex asked.

I looked up slowly, and shook my head.

"I don't know. She's not saying anything, but something doesn't sound right."

"Well, we only have one week of training left, and I'm sure we'll get a pass after it's all done. Then you can go home and ask her what's wrong."

I sighed. "One moment we were happy, and all of a sudden she turned cool towards me. I really don't understand women."

Rex slapped me on the shoulder. "You and me both, buddy."

With a shock, the full extent of Rex's words hit me. We only had one week of training left before the Section Leading program ended. The following week we would learn who made section leaders and who was destined to be section second in commands.

"Well, let's not ponder. Our friends and a cold beer await us in the canteen," Rex said as he rubs his hands together.

The others were already seated at the table when Rex and I arrived.

"What kept you? I'm getting thirsty here," George greeted us with a grin.

"Hey guys, we had to catch up on our mail," Rex said and pointed his thumb in my direction.

"Well, let's get this party started, then you can tell us all about it," Charlie said and grabbed a beer.

We all cracked a can and toasted our health. After a few sips Frankie looked at me.

"So what's so special about your mail?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. I'd rather you tell me if your week was as much fun as ours."

Rex snorted.

"You're starting to sound like the newt."

"Glad to hear I'm having a positive influence on somebody," Charlie said.

Charlie's squad was also out at De Brug, and they did a variety of shooting maneuvers with the Ratels. Of course, George's squad did the driving of the vehicles, which meant George and Charlie got to spend some quality time together.

Frankie's company was also out at De Brug, doing things similar to what Rex and I did. Fire and move, and they also did trenches. For the rest of the evening we discussed the events out in the field. When I told them how Rex threw rocks at the drums, they were in stitches with laughter.

"And then the Sergeant Major asked Rex if he was crazy, and quite innocently he answered, well maybe just a little, Sir," I said, and the group burst into another round of laughter. Rex lifted his beer in salute, and took a long sip.

After spending a long, hard week in the field, it was nice to sit back and discuss the events with friends that understood. If I had told that same story back home, the folks there would have stared at me with blank faces like I was crazy. One had to be there to appreciate the story.

That was another thing we would learn in the next few months, nobody outside the military fully understood, or really cared what we did or had to go through.

Later that night, alone in my bed, lying on my back with my arms folded behind my head, I stared at the ceiling. My thoughts drifted back to Charlotte's letter. There must be something going on, because my mom even asked me what was up with Charlotte. She didn't come around to our house anymore like she used to.

In my mind, I kept running through the last weekend at home, but beside the fact that Charlotte kept her distance, I found nothing I did wrong. Frankie confirmed that we would go on a pass in a week. Hopefully when I went home, I could get some answers. Until then, there was nothing I could do.

With one last, long sigh, I turned on my side, closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

After a weekend of relaxing and leisure, Monday morning arrived in all its glory. It all started when Corporal Danson gave his whistle an extra workout thirty minutes earlier than usual.

We were all still blissfully asleep when he stormed into the bungalow, blowing his whistle like a mad man. Of course, we were all in our spare beds on the other side of the bungalow, leaving him staring in disbelief at our perfectly made, empty beds.

"What the fuck?" he said, and then heard the noise coming from the other side of the room as people scurried to their feet.

"So this is what's been going on here," he said and stared at the chaos with his hands on his hips. "Everybody at their own beds, now!" he shouted.

"So you think we're your fucking fools?" he said with a sinister smile.

Nobody dared to answer that question. We heard the rumors of soldiers disappearing without a trace and we had no desire to join them.

"Toss your beds," he said calmly.

Without giving it a second thought, I turned, grabbed my mattress at the edge, and flipped it over.

"There will be a proper inspection after breakfast," Corporal Danson said, then turned on his heels and left the bungalow.

"Shit, that was a nasty surprise," Rex said and plopped his butt down on his upturned mattress.

I flipped my mattress and pulled the blanket from the bed.

"The inspection was probably planned. That's why he came so early," I said.

"Looks like our last week will be a tough one," Trevor said.

It was not a remark said with fear, or anticipation. The comment was made in a matter of fact way. After all our time in the military, we learned to deal with whatever came our way. It didn't help to stress about it in advance.

After breakfast, when the corporal entered the room, we stood at the foot end of our freshly made beds. Our rifles had been taken apart, cleaned and displayed in a uniform way on the towel at the bottom end of our beds. Our open trommels were neatly packed, all exactly the same.

The corporal walked slowly down the aisle looking at each person, occasionally stopping to check if a rifle part was clean. He would pick up a gas tube and hold it against the light. If there was as much as one grain of dust inside, it would be visible, and we would fail the inspection. Of course he found none, but that didn't stop him from trying.

He stopped in front of me. "So you can make a bed, Dempsey. Why do you sleep on the other side?"

"Saves time in the morning, Corporal," I said without blinking.

Corporal Danson knew better than to ask about it any further. With only half the bungalow in use and all the other empty beds available, no self respecting soldier would not have tried what we did.

"So you what do you think about this inspection?" he asked, now standing only millimeters in front of me. Corporal Danson was a head shorted than me, but I didn't look down at him, instead, I stared straight ahead at the opposite wall.

"It's a good effort, Corporal," I said.

Corporal Danson turned around and looked down the aisle. "A good effort he says. Do you all think it's a good effort?"

"Yes, Corporal," everybody answered in one voice.

"Well, who am I to disagree with you all," the corporal said in a neutral tone, and I could not determine if he was serious or sarcastic.

"We have lots to do today, so let's not waste any more time. I'll see you all outside in five minutes," he said and left the room.

Rex looked at me, a deep frown on his forehead.

"Shit, I was sure we were about to do inspections the entire day."

"He came, he saw, and it was perfect," I said and waved my arms indicating the room.

Trevor laughed as he closed his trommel and shut the lock. "Yeah, and when you wake up your coffee will be cold."

Manny slammed his trommel shut. "Hell, whatever it is, I'm not complaining."

I closed my trommel, took my coat and locked my steel cabinet. We were not allowed to stand inspection wearing our big, heavy coats, but it was cold outside, and we wouldn't leave the bungalow without it so early in the morning.

We joined the guys from the other bungalow and lined up in a platoon formation.

Once all there, Corporal Lewis stared at us and said, "This phase of your training's done. The only thing left to do is your final examinations, a last fitness test, and then your graduation."

The corporals split us into groups, and then the exams began. One by one the corporals called our names from their clipboards. In the first session, they tested our knowledge on the various platoon weapons. Not only did we have to take a written test, but also had to point out different features on all the weapons.

"It's hard to believe we're almost done with this shit," Rex said where we sat in a group waiting our turn.

"Yeah, then it's time for different shit," Dirk said.

"Will it ever end?" Rex asked.

I nodded. "Of course it will, by the end of next year when we reach the end of our two year service."

Rex took a long drag on his cigarette. "That's not very reassuring."

"From what Frankie told me, there are still some tough times ahead. Lots of training still to be done before we get deployed to the border."

"Yeah, sometimes I wish he would share some good news," Rex said.

"Do you think they're really going to send us to the border?" Trevor asked.

I sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. This is an operational unit that provides trained troops to other operational units that get deployed. But don't worry; you'll only get deployed in your second year."

"I still don't like the sound of that," Trevor said, and his eyes looked troubled.

Eric walked towards us. "Trevor, Corporal Danson's waiting for you."

"How was it?" Rex asked.

Eric shrugged. "Piece of cake."

By lunch time we were done with platoon weapons. After lunch, the testing shifted to the Ratel. We already did a major test on the Ratel, so that time around it was more like revision. In the late afternoon we covered night vision and hand signals.

That evening when we joined George and the rest of the gang in the canteen, they were happier than normal.

"Why are you so happy?" Rex asked as we sat down with our two beers.

George slapped Rex on the shoulder. "We're done with training and had our final exams today. Tomorrow we get divided into our new units."

"And we devised a plan to make sure we end up in the same company," Charlie said.

"How're you going to manage that?" I asked.

"Frankie's group gets sorted first. He will let Charlie and me know in which company he's in, and we'll make sure we end up there. I'll then get word to Frik, who'll let you two know where we are," George explained.

"Sounds like an absolutely fool proof plan," Rex said sounding doubtful.

"Oh he of little faith," Charlie said.

For once, I shared Rex's pessimism. Once we were divided into our new units, there was a chance that we would never see each other again, but our friends were confident in their plan.

The following morning we did exams on trenches and battle procedures. When we reported for lunch, Frik winked at me.

"Alpha Company platoon two," he said in a muted tone, making sure the nearby corporal didn't overhear.

"All three of them?" I asked surprised.

Frik nodded.

As soon as we sat down, I shared the news with Rex.

"Unbefuckinglievable," Rex said.

"So now we have to make sure we end up there too," I said.

"Sure," Rex said. "That sounds easy enough."

After lunch, Corporal Danson ordered us to report for a fitness evaluation. Like all other evaluations, we had to run the 2,4 kilometer track first.

"My mom always says not to exercise on a full stomach. It is bad for you," Rex said.

Trevor laughed. "Yeah, I want to see you explain that one to the corporals."

Rex frowned but didn't comment. The fitness test posed no problem for any of us. By then, we reached peak fitness and the requirement for running, push-ups, sit-ups and chin-ups was easily met.

After the test, we were allowed to get dressed and were ordered to line up in a formation. Corporal Lewis marched us to a small hall, the same building where we had our blood tests done during basics.

"I wonder what this is all about," Manny asked.

Rex shook his head. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

We had to take a seat on the floor against the back wall. Once everyone was seated, Sergeant Major Wise and Captain Rawlings entered. Of course, we all jumped to attention again at the sight of the captain. All the corporals saluted the man with the three stars on his shoulders.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he greeted friendly. "When the Sergeant Major reads your name, step forward and receive your stripes."

I looked at Rex. That was it, our graduation ceremony. I actually expected a grander affair, but in a few moments, I would find out if I made a Section Leader, or was destined to become a Section Leader's second in command.

### Chapter 23

My heart thumped in my chest when Sergeant Major Wise started to read the names. The names were read at random, so there was no way to determine if you made it until your name was called.

"Shaw, Trevor," he said.

Trevor jumped up and marched to the captain.

A few names later, "Greer, Anton." Followed by, "Wilcox, Eric."

I started to lose hope.

"Dempsey, Chris."

I jumped to my feet, and my legs moved on autopilot. I marched forward like being in a dream. One of those dreams where you're chased by someone and try to run away, but although your legs move, you're not going anywhere.

I came to a halt in front of Captain Rawlings and saluted. He shook my hand and gave me a packet containing a set of lance corporal stripes. I joined the others, and as we congratulated each other, I glanced over at the other side of the room where Rex still waited.

When the Sergeant Major looked up and said, "Ok, that's it. If your name was not read, you'll be a 2IC."

My heart sank into my shoes. Rex was still on the other side. From our small squad, so were Dirk Rogers and Colin Moore.

"Ok, both groups, form a line," the sergeant major ordered.

He started from the front and assigned people to a company. "Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Alpha...."

My eyes followed the line, and I worked out my order and to which unit I would go. My heart rate increased when I realized that I was out of position. I had to act quickly and tapped the guy standing in front of me on the shoulder.

"Do you want to go to Alpha?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, Bravo."

"Ok, let's switch," I said and before anybody noticed anything, we switched places.

Sergeant Major Wise got closer, and when he reached me, he pointed at my chest and said, "Alpha."

I gave a huge sigh and walked over to the other Alphas. Anxiously, my eyes darted to the other side of the room. Rex jostled for position. Just before Sergeant White got to them, two guys in front Rex moved out of line and darted to the back.

Bewildered, Rex tried frantically to work out his position, but he was too late. Sergeant White pointed at him and said, "Bravo."

I looked over at the Bravo group and saw the Greer twins and Trevor all landed there. At least Rex will know someone, I thought. But no, it couldn't be. Since we met that first day on the truck taking us to the train station, Rex and I had became inseparable.

I needed to get to the other side of the room and help him make a plan, but before I could even think straight, Corporal Lewis waved his arms.

"Everyone for Alpha Company, return to your bungalow, pack all your gear, and be ready to move in fifteen minutes."

As people filed out of the hall, my reluctant feet followed. My brain was a mad scramble, but I could not find any way to help my friend.

As we entered the bungalow, Corporal Danson yelled, "All you new Lance Corporals, you better have those stripes on your arms before you leave this building."

I hurried to the civvy room and grabbed my bag with my civilian clothes. Rushing back to my bed, I yanked the cabinet open, and packed the contents into my trommel. I folded my bedding and stacked it on top of the trommel. Within five minutes I was ready to go, with just one thing left to do.

I removed the two sleeves from the packet and stared at the stripes. I made it, but why didn't I feel happier?

"Do you need help with that?" a familiar voice asked.

"Rex," I said and looked at the smiling, freckled face of my friend.

For once, I didn't know what to say to him. He helped me attach the sleeve to my overalls.

"That looks good on you," he said.

"Rex...," I started to say, but he held up a hand.

"Don't worry about it, Chris. From early on in the program, I resigned myself to the fact that I'd be your 2IC."

"Yeah, but...,"

"No buts. That's the way it should be, and I'm happy with that."

I started to open my mouth again to say something, but he grabbed his gear.

"We better get moving, Corporal. Corporal Lewis still outranks you, and he's not a man that likes to be kept waiting. Besides, we have to get there first to ensure we end up in platoon two."

I stared at Rex's back in disbelief, then grabbed my gear and followed him out the door.

We joined the growing group destined for Alpha Company. I dropped my trommel and turned to Rex.

"I thought you're on your way to Bravo."

"What? Now you don't want me here?" he asked, his face a picture of innocence.

I shook my head. "Ok, I don't care. I'm glad you're here."

Rex laughed. "It is not much of a mystery. Most of his friends went to Bravo, so I swapped with Derrick Green."

For a moment I was speechless. Derrick was the one person who gave Rex and me a hard time ever since we joined the program. It was hard to believe that same person came to our rescue.

I flashed Rex a smile. "Thank goodness for small miracles. Now we just need to make sure we get into platoon two."

A few moments later Corporal Lewis arrived, and we grabbed our gear and marched to the Alpha Company bungalows. When we stopped in front of the buildings, Corporal Lewis stared at us.

"You are now leaders. Whatever you do, you should act accordingly. There are three platoons and I want three Section Leaders and three 2ICs per platoon. I'll leave you to decide who goes where. Dismiss."

Corporal Lewis walked into the third bungalow, and before anybody even had a chance to move, Rex and I grabbed our gear.

Rex looked at the other 2ICs and said, "I'm with Corporal Dempsey."

I followed Corporal Lewis and talked over my shoulder.

"We're in platoon two."

As we walked into the bungalow, Corporal Lewis waited inside the doorway.

"Alpha section," he assigned Rex and me.

I looked at Rex. We had no idea in which section George, Charlie and Frankie found themselves, or if they were even all in the same section.

Nick Norton became section leader of Bravo section, with his friend, Darryl King as his 2IC. Charlie section was assigned to Barry Moore, with Dirk Rogers as his 2IC. I was surprised that Barry didn't try to get into the same platoon as his twin brother, Larry. Unlike the Greer twins, who were identical, Barry and Larry looked nothing alike. Barry had dark hair and a ready smile, while Larry, with his short, spiked blond hair, always looked troubled.

The section leaders were each allocated a small room at the entrance to the bungalow, while the 2ICs bunked with the rest of the platoon. I walked into the room and dropped my gear on the same type of steel framed bed that I used the last few months, a steel cabinet next to the bed the only other furniture in the room. At least there was some form of privacy.

I heard the sound of boots falling on gravel as people came marching.

"Leave your gear. You can unpack later. It's time to meet your squads," Corporal Lewis said.

My heart rate increased as a nervous blanket folded around me. Before I joined the army, I was a loner. Now I had to face a group of people and was well aware that I would be scrutinized.

I stepped out of the bungalow as our new platoon halted outside. Corporal Lewis nodded to the corporal that brought them, and then took his place in front of the platoon.

"I'm Corporal Lewis and will join Corporal Dye as your Platoon Sergeants for the next few months. This group over here is your new Section Leaders and 2IC's."

I glanced over the platoon and recognized a few familiar faces that where in Charlie Company during basics. To the left, the three of them stood together, George, Charlie and Frankie. Nobody moved a muscle, but I thought I caught a wink from George.

"Now break up into your sections and get acquainted. Platoon, dismiss," Corporal Lewis ordered.

Each platoon had four sections. The first was the Platoon Commander's staff, including the platoon medic. The other three squads formed the combat sections.

"Alpha section over here," I said.

A group of people moved to the side and my heart jumped with joy at the sight of three familiar faces. By fate or design, we all managed to end up in the same section.

I nodded to George, Charlie and Frankie as Rex joined them in formation. Although my 2IC, he still had no official rank.

"I see I know a few of you already, but for those who don't know me, I'm Lance Corporal Dempsey. They tell me we'll be spending time together until we finish our national service at the end of next year, so I'm sure we'll get to know each other well. My 2IC is Rex Dumont. I'm here to lead the section, not to give you a hard time, that's the job of the platoon corporals. If you do what I ask, I'm sure we'll all get along."

I stared at the nine faces in front of me. The people I would lead into battle.

"Now, that you know who I am, please tell me who you are and what you do."

One by one the guys introduced themselves. Of course I knew George, the driver, Charlie, the gunner, and Frankie, rifleman number one. Fred Burgess, my LMG number one, a tall, lean and well-muscled man. He would have no problem handling the big machine gun.

The LMG number two, Mike Tanner, was a bit scrawny, and I wondered if he would cope with the ammunition belts. Although I was in charge of the section overall, during a battle outside of the Ratel, Rex would command those two.

That left the three remaining riflemen. Barney Alexander started out at 1 Parachute Battalion, but failed to make the grade and was transferred to 1 SAI. Frankie informed me later that the guy acted a little crazy, but he could shoot the top of a beer bottle without breaking the bottle.

Harry Tovey looked the dark, brooding type and had a pessimistic outlook on life. Then there was Nick Puller. If Frankie described Barney as a little crazy, then Nick would be completely nuts. He liked to pull pranks on people, and not all well intended. Some were rather malicious.

I took a moment to look at the faces. They all looked too young and innocent to be in the army. Most of them probably thought the same of me. The previous year we all had been in school, and now we were soldiers.

"Ok, we don't have much time. You can get much better acquainted when you get back. However, if you want to go on leave for the weekend, you only have thirty minutes to get ready. Section Leaders, take your sections to the armory and hand in your weapons," Corporal Dye instructed.

I wasted no time, assembled Alpha section, and marched them to the nearby building. Another advantage of being in Alpha Company, we were closest to the weapons store. Five identical buildings were built in a row, but the first was converted into the armory, while the rest formed our bungalows.

"Section, halt," I ordered. All nine people in the squad stopped as one man. I dismissed them and then joined the queue to hand in my own rifle for the weekend. Unless we went for training, our weapons were not allowed off the base.

With that done, I marched the guys back to the bungalow, and then hurried inside. I pulled my browns from the trommel, but they didn't do well in the move and were crumpled. My room had its own power outlet, so I didn't have to stand queue in the ironing room.

I didn't have an ironing board, so I lifted my steel trommel onto my bed, and fashioned my spare towel over the lid, and viola, instant homemade ironing board. I got quite good at ironing and pressed my clothes in no time at all.

Five minutes later, I was dressed, my civvy bag packed, and ready to go. I stepped into the bungalow, which was a chaotic mess. Some guys were dressed, while others still ran around half naked.

"Five minutes, people," I shouted. Alpha section's beds were on the left hand side of the bungalow, towards the back, near the bathroom. Charlie, already dressed, helped Frankie to shine his boots. Rex came running from the ironing room wearing only his shirt and socks. He had his iron in the one hand and his pants draped over the other arm.

"Need any help?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No thanks, Corporal, I'm almost done."

For a moment I felt out of place, like I didn't belong there. I just stood there and watched my friends get ready. I was about to head back to my room when Frankie popped up next to me.

"Excuse me, Corporal, can you help me with these flashes. I can't get the pins in to hold them down."

Without a word, I held out my hand, took the pins and pinned his flashes.

"Thank you, Corporal," he said with a smile.

It would take me quite a while to get used to my friends calling me, Corporal. Surprisingly, it was more awkward for me than for them.

When Corporal Lewis blew his whistle, everyone ran outside and lined up in formation. Not sure what we should do, the section leaders joined the squad, all standing on the left side, me being Alpha Section's leader, in the front.

Corporal Dye brought us to attention, gave the open order command, and then the two corporals did a quick inspection. Satisfied that we were all presentable, he gave the order.

"Platoon, dismiss."

The buses waited in their usual spot near the big zinc building. We grabbed our gear and ran for the bus. Once seated, George turned around.

"So what are your plans for the weekend?"

I had only one thing on my mind. I needed to find out what was up with Charlotte.

### Chapter 24

I lay on my bed with my hands behind my head, staring at the dark ceiling. Something weird was up with Charlotte. I tried to phone her early that morning to tell her I'm home for the weekend, but her mother said she had already left. That wouldn't sound strange to anyone else, but Charlotte never left for college that early in the morning.

I tried to make friendly conversation with her mother, but she rather abruptly informed me that she had work to do, and hung up the phone. Charlotte's mother had always treated me like a son. Her behavior towards me left me baffled, and added to the mystery of Charlotte's avoidance.

The only way I would get a straight answer was to meet Charlotte in person. I gazed at the window, and through the gaps in the curtains noticed that it turned to daylight outside. I sat upright, feeling tired due to lack of sleep, but was determined to get an answer to Charlotte's strange behavior.

If there was someone else, then I had to know, but deep down I had a feeling that there was more to the story than simple betrayal. I heard my dad exit the house, and waited till his car pulled out of the driveway. I entered the kitchen and my mother gave a short, loud yell.

"Chris, you scared the hell out of me!" she said.

I gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry, I need coffee."

"Why are you up so early on a Saturday anyway?" she asked.

"Mom, I'm used to getting up early, no matter what day it is."

For a moment, she stared at me in silence.

"Did you hear from her?" she asked softly.

I took a sip from my coffee and shook my head.

"You two looked so happy, I don't understand what happened," she said.

I sighed. "That makes two of us."

She studied my expression. "You're going after her today."

I nodded.

She touched my arm. "Well, you're not going anywhere without a good breakfast."

After a meal of bacon, eggs, and toast, I stepped out into the cold air. I walked the road to Charlotte's house many times, and could walk the route with my eyes closed, but that morning, it took extra long.

I walked slower than usual as I tried to formulate a plan, but think as I might, I could not come up with a plan that didn't make me look like an idiot. Should I accept that Charlotte had someone else and moved on, or did I really want to see it with my own eyes? Why didn't she just come out and say something?

When I neared her house, I still had no definite course of action. For a moment I just wanted to march up to her house, pound on the door, and demand an explanation. But her father had a gun and I didn't want to get shot.

No, I reasoned with myself. The situation required a more undercover approach. The previous evening I almost phoned Rex, George and Charlie for backup, but didn't want to ruin their weekend with my own issues.

About a block away from Charlotte's house, I crossed the street and stopped underneath an old maple tree. The sun was now up for a few hours, and warmed the earth. The thick layer of frost on the ground melted, and I stood with my hands deep in my pockets.

For an hour I stood there, watching her house, but nothing happened. An old lady with a Spaniel on a leash walked past. Both owner and dog looked at me with suspicious glances, but I smiled and nodded, acting like I waited for someone.

It wasn't a complete lie. I did in fact wait for someone. My plan started to sound more and more ridiculous the longer I waited. I was just about to change my plan and walk over there, when the front door swung open and Charlotte emerged.

She didn't notice me and disappeared around the corner. I waited a moment, took a deep breath, and then followed. She walked towards the mall, and I stayed on the opposite side of the street, half a block away, in the shadows.

Not once did she look back. She approached the mall and entered the grocery shop, leaving me undecided on what to do next. Outside the shop was a plant feature with a little step. I sat down, trying to plan my next move.

But I was fresh out of ideas and unsure how to proceed. While I mulled my options, Charlotte walked out of the shop carrying a grocery bag. She saw me on the step and her face lit up with surprise and shock.

"Chris, what are you doing here?"

I came to my feet.

"Waiting for you," I said.

"How did you.... Did you follow me here?" she asked, her forehead pulled into a heavy frown.

I stared at her for a moment, my heart beating wildly, before I shook my head.

"No. I walked past and saw you entering the shop, and decided to wait here. I need to talk to you but you don't want to take my calls."

She avoided my accusing stare.

"I'd been busy," she said. "I must go. My mother's waiting for the milk."

She stepped to walk away.

"So that's it then?" I asked.

She stopped, turned around and stared at me. Her eyes sparkled more than normal, and a tiny tear rolled down and dripped onto her left cheek.

I walked to her and gently brushed the tear away.

"You're not even going to give me an explanation?" I asked softly.

She swallowed hard, fighting the flood of tears building up behind her eyelids, and shook her head.

I stared deep into her light brown eyes, which always reminded me of a little deer. Unlike a small deer, those eyes didn't look innocent, or happy. They were masked in a sad veil of unhappiness.

I sighed and took a step back.

"That's a shame, Charlotte. Whatever I'd done, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you and won't bother you anymore."

I turned to walk away, and took five steps before her voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Chris, wait!"

I turned around.

"You're right. I do owe you an explanation," she said.

I walked over to her and she took a seat on the step, placed her bag next to her, and folded her hands in her lap.

I stood in front of her and stared at the top of her head, but she didn't look at me. Her eyes remained focused on her hands, while her fingers fidgeted nervously.

She took a deep breath.

"Chris, I'm pregnant."

The words hit me like a sledgehammer. I stared in shock. For a moment the world spun out of control. It felt like earth's gravity had no effect on me. I grabbed the side of the plant feature before I floated off into space.

When my feet grounded again, I looked at her. Those brown eyes now trained on my face.

"Is it mine?" I asked.

Her eyes reflected the hurt my words caused, but I didn't apologize. She simply nodded.

I ran a hand through my short, spiky hair.

"When did you find out?"

"About four weeks ago," she said.

I frowned. That was before my previous pass. She already knew, but didn't say anything.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She stared at her hands again.

"I didn't tell you because you're never home anymore. I see you maybe once for a weekend every two months. Chris, I need more than that."

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Charlotte looked up to make sure I was still there.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do about that. It is not like I enlisted out of my own free will. If I didn't go, the government would have thrown me in jail."

She sighed.

"I know, but it still doesn't make it any easier."

I dropped to my knees in front of her and took her hands into mine. She didn't pull away.

"Do you plan to keep the baby?"

She nodded.

"I discussed it with my parents and together we decided that's the best option. I should be able to finish this year in college."

I swallowed hard. Shit, her parents knew. No wonder her mother gave me the cold shoulder. I was surprised her father hadn't come looking for me with his gun. I found out later he wanted to, but Charlotte and her mother talked him out of it.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"It's too early to tell."

My mind raced. I was about to become a father. Oh hell, my mother would kill me. She always warned me to be careful.

"So, will you allow me to be part of the baby's life?" I asked.

She stared into my eyes, her mind racing, trying to decide. Then she nodded.

"Chris, only if you want to be the father. I won't force this onto you."

"Of course I want that," I said. I never ran away from a responsibility.

She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tight.

"Oh, Chris, I missed you."

I wiped her tears away and kissed her gently. The decision was made and I would not abandon Charlotte. We both might regret it later, but I loved her and knew I could make it work.

I smiled at her.

"Now what do we do?"

She came to her feet, smiled back at me, and said, "Now we have to go talk to my parents."

I frowned, not liking the sound of that. Charlotte's father was a man that you didn't mess with.

"Does your father still have his gun?" I asked.

She laughed and her eyes transformed into two pools of happiness.

"Yes, but he won't shoot you."

I took her grocery bag and we took off towards her house. Along the way she asked me about my family, and how life in the military treated me. We both avoided the subject of the pregnancy.

When we reached her house, I stopped and looked at the closed front door. My heart hammered in my chest and it took all my will power not to turn and run. Charlotte took my hand and smiled.

"It'll be alright. Besides, my mother will be relieved I told you. She's quite mad at me for not telling you from the start."

Hand-in-hand we walked through the door into the familiar surroundings. Nothing had changed since my last visit. We stepped into the kitchen where Charlotte's mom sat at the table. She lifted her head when we walked into the room.

She frowned at Charlotte, who nodded and flashed a smile. Her mom came to her feet and walked to me, holding her arms wide. Before I said anything, she had me in a motherly embrace.

"It's so good to see you again, Chris."

Charlotte stood at the other side of the table and I saw the alarm in her eyes. I swung around and found the dark eyes of Charlotte's father. He looked at Charlotte.

"You told him?" he asked.

Charlotte nodded.

"Well, that's a relief."

He walked over to me and grabbed my hand.

"Good to see you again, son. I see that the military life does you good, you're starting to look like a man."

Later, when we each had a mug of coffee, we were seated in the lounge.

"So what are your plans for the future when you finish your service?" Charlotte's dad asked.

The motive for the question was clear. He wanted to find out how I would provide for his daughter and grandchild.

I took a sip of coffee before I answered.

"I'm interested in journalism. Currently, I'm taking a correspondence course to learn as much as I can. By the time my two years are done, I should've graduated and be eligible for a post as junior journalist at any one of the bigger newspapers."

Carter Brown glanced over to his wife, and nodded in approval. For the next two hours we discussed what would happen with Charlotte and the baby while I finished my service.

Her parents were more than willing to care for her and the baby till I completed my service, and even offered for us to stay with them until we found a place of our own. There was a still lot of time to decide on that, we didn't need to make the decision there and then.

I spent that evening at Charlotte's house, and her parents had no qualms that we shared the same bed. In their eyes, we were already engaged. For the moment, both Charlotte and I avoided that talk.

The following morning Charlotte's dad offered to drive me home, but I needed the walk. Since the moment Charlotte dropped the bomb on me, I didn't have a moment to myself to digest everything.

I was happy that Charlotte and I cleared the air between us. The future seemed certain, with only one small hiccup. I still had eighteen months of military service left before we could begin a life together.

As I neared our house, I got nervous. Charlotte's parents were quite accepting and she was by my side, but I had to face my parents on my own.

I walked into the house and found my mother in the kitchen, busy mending a pair of my father's trousers.

"Were you out all night?" she asked.

I nodded.

She frowned and dropped the sewing into her lap.

"With Charlotte?"

I nodded.

"I take it you two patched things?"

Another nod.

"So what was her problem?"

I stared at my mother, my heart beating like a runaway train. I rehearsed the entire story on the way home, but in that instant it evaporated.

"She just needed assurance that I still love her," I said, grabbed my coffee mug, and headed out towards my room.

I was not yet ready to tell her that she was about to become a grandmother. Charlotte's pregnancy was still in the early stages, which gave me time to break the news to my parents. The following day I would head back to the base without telling them. My life became a lot more complicated, but before I could make any future plans and tackle my life in earnest, I had to complete my two years military service.

The End

###

Coming Soon:

Be sure to catch the third book in the Army Chronicles series: **Lohatla**

Our friends will embark on the next phase of their military journey, learning new skills, and being readied for operational deployment.

Glossary

Vasbyt = A grueling three day endurance march

Dixies = 2 stainless steel pans used for eating in the field

Pick-set = A set of eating utensils consisting of a knife, fork, and spoon.

Dog Biscuits = Flat wheat biscuits that came with the rat packs

Rat Pack = Field rations

LMG = Light Machine Gun

Fire Bucket = Steel water bottle holder that doubled as a mug.

Trommel = A Steel box used for storing equipment.

Bivvy = A square sail that could be used as a ground sail, a one man tent, or a rain coat.

Connect with me online:

Twitter: http://twitter.com/@Stella_Del

Smashwords : https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/CRDelport

Email: Christelle@thearorasaga.co.za

