Welcome to the Jungle

Several logistical impediments have arisen that meant I have been unable to post for a few days.
One such impediment is the lack of laptop or internet connection in the jungle.
Yes, I was in the jungle. For two nights, ladies & gentlemen, I roughed it with the best of them. Joining an exercise for new Gurkhas, three new officers were driven into the periphery of the jungle kitted out with our bergen bags full of jungle necessary kit; hammock - check, mess tin - check, mosquito net - check, and so on.
As excited as I was to be doing something military, I sat in the back of the army truck, chuggling along on the hour's drive into the 'trees' thinking to myself that maybe, just maybe it won't be all fun and games. Before we left, we'd heard that a severe weather warning was issued for the Thursday night and that some areas of the region had been closed off to transport because of landslides. Nonetheless, I reasoned, if I was going to be in the jungle at a time like this, the army would be the best organisation to be with.
So fears and butterflies aside, we were delivered to jungle area A, where the exercise was already underway. The commanding officer met us, camouflaged and drenched from the days of constant rain, to brief us on what had already happened and what was expected. All of a sudden, this 'adventure' felt real and not so fun.

Escorted deeper into the jungle, a couple of the Gurkhas helped us set up our hammocks, which is more complicated than one might expect. We were shown little tricks that would mitigate the risk of snakes coming into our hammocks, or minimising the risk of flooding from rainwater by attaching little strings that would divert the rain downwards.

The commanding officer told us that we were to serve as the enemy; the three of us would be receiving periodic instructions from him to give the soldiers, who were stationed in various observation posts under cover, something to report as we set about on patrols, planting fake mines, and hiding out in our own observation posts.

Crikey, I thought, as I sat in the sentry post, cautiously watching the HUMONGOUS caterpillar (or something akin to one, with lots of little, orange legs), this is serious. I was of course also trying to watch out for the 'enemy' but they were no where to be seen and I carried on playing soldier, imagining myself as a character from one of the many war films I'd sat through.

The first day in the jungle was curtailed by the fact that we arrived mid-afternoon and the sun set at 6.30pm, sorry, 1830. It was a surreal night as we sat by the communications tent eating out of our mess tins; an amazing meal of dried buffalo curry prepared by the Gurkha soldiers.

Following dinner, there was little to do beyond learning a few Nepalese words before blindly walking to our hammocks for bed. Not as easy as I thought. The hammocks were a mere five minutes from the communications tent, but somehow, in the pitch dark, the path to sleepdom was obstacled by trees, darkness and intimidating noises.

Having finally reached our hammocks, the challenge grew bigger as we had to get ready for sleep, which essentially involved fumbling around in the dark trying to get boots off, and somehow climbing into the hammock. Thankfully, it was a dry night, BUT, sleeping in the jungle is noisy. Every so often, I was woken with the sound of something chirping, slithing around on the ground, falling on top of the mosquito net, and so. To be honest, it was quite fun to sleep suspended between two trees, surrounded by 'nature'. I felt slightly grotty at not having brushed my teeth (it was dark, my toothbrush was at the bottom of my bergen - don't judge!), or washed my face, but I couldn't care less, I wanted to be in the safety of the hammock as soon as possible.

10 hours later, we woke to a wet morning and our first task of the day: a patrol of an area identified by the commanding officer. We walked, slightly dampened and very drowsy with sleepy, and returned within an hour to prepare a breakfast of beefburger & beans, a delightful pick-me up in our ration packs (surprisingly quite impressive with biscuits, crackers, tea, coffee & hot chocolate sachets, Yorkie bars emblazoned with an alternative catch-phrase 'it's not for civvies' and other perectly edible delights.)

Our day continued with patrols, observing at our various sentry posts, and planting the fake mines. We were worn down by the persisting rain that fell heavier and heavier the entire day and with our clothes drenched, we carried ourselves from post to post feeling weighed down by our webbings, water logged boots, and in the case of the other two, weapons.

Our final brief came at 1500, when the commanding officer told us that the dawn attack planned for Friday morning would now be taking place at 1800hrs that evening. We would serve as the enemy that would be under attack from the soldiers, and we would be hiding out near their posts. We were to keep closer observations, and then in the preceding hour, station ourselves. The two officers were given their blank magazines as I looked on in slight fascination. Seeing my curiousity, the CO asked if I wanted a brief tutorial on handling a weapon and to then have my own to use in the attack. I obliged and was given what I can only imagine is the shortest tutorial on how to handle a weapon, and at 1745, we took our positions, me with far too much adrenaline, and a weapon loaded with blanks.

As we hid in our respective hide-outs, weapons at the ready, the heavens opened and the rain fell heavier and faster than ever I'd seen it. The jungle fell a little quiet, and I'm sure my heart could be heard beating by the officer crouched beside me as we waited for what felt like a thousand hours.
Ten minutes later, we heard the unmistakeable sound of gunshot, and from then on, it remains a blur of rain, mud, firing blanks and being fired on. The scene as we got closer to the enemy and were fired on (and inevitably killed) was not far off the stereotypical scene of war as portrayed by Hollywood. My fellow officer died a noble death as I looked on helplessly, having finished my magazine in a frenzy of adrenaline.

The exercise finished at 1840 and we drew in to the communications tent drenched, slighly alarmed and with a collective feeling of wide-eyed alarm betraying our freshness.

All the soldiers that were on this exercise gathered together for another night of sitting by the fire (under a waterproof poncho) as some of the Gurkha soldiers once more created a fiery curry and rice that went down extremely well. Drenched from the downpour, muddied by the attack and slightly jaded by the whole experience, I donned my head torch as we made our way to the hammocks dreading the challenge of getting ready for sleep, made ever more difficult on this night as we had to get out of our wet clothes and into dry ones, in near darkness and constant beating by the heavy rainfall. A task that would ordinarily have taken 5 mins took in excess of 35minutes as I fumbled around, trying to find my dry clothes in my overpacked bergen. Successively dropping my headtorch (it wasn't on my head, but held strategically by my teeth) and then trying desperately to find it on the ground...a seriously scary task because of the fear that one might come across something that one doesn't care to come across. EVENTUALLY, I found something dry to wear, then came the task of removing my wet clothes, including my boots whilst trying to ensure at all times that I did not place a bootless and sockless foot on the ground. Challenging at the best of times, but when in the dark, wet, tired and with a flimsy and moving hammock to hold on to, near impossible. So, wet combats off, dry clothes on, boots placed upside down on the sticks at the bottom of the hammock, and body quickly placed on the hammock. Result???!!! Not quite. Hammock, for some reason had a small pool of water in exactly the same area where my bottom would rest. The pool gradually got larger, and I quickly became wetter. This was bad news. I lay wet, cold and shivering, as I listened to the various sounds of the jungle that had, after 3 hours lost their appeal. The rain was no longer being contained by the poncho, and the noises only grew louder and more incessant. I longed for the sound of the soldier who would come to wake us and it came only after a very long time.

Alas, the time to rise finally came, and we woke to find our only dry clothes(the very ones we slept in) drenched. We disassembled our hammock, repacked our bergens, and made tracks for the trucks that would take us back to the garrison. My fingers were positively wrinkled like I had spent 2 whole days in a bath (if only). We sat, a little weathered by our experience, but feeling ready for a hot shower, and big breakfast.

I feel lucky that the resident mosquitoes did not take a liking to me at all. Whilst my compatriots were ruthlessly bitten and displayed their bites like war wounds, I remained untouched (and a little offended as to why the damned things only hovered around me but lacked the guts to take a blood meal). So, 24 hours on, I sit in the mess following multiple hot showers and several big meals and feeling a bit more civilised again writing this blog.