Drill Sergeant Myles Killam
Seabrooke Army Training Centre (SATC)It was a lovely spring morning at Seabrooke a feint breeze rolled in off the Mhorish and out in the bay a few fishing boats bobbed around beyond the security line marked by a set of brightly coloured bouys. The flag on the parade squares flagpole gave the occasion snap as it fluttered in the wind. It was, at least in Myles opinion, the best time of year to arrive at SATC, if you arrived in intake one it was still winter, intake three you caught the harsh summer sun, and four saw the beginning of winter. It was Intake two that he thought had the best ride of the conditions, not that any conditions were great when you found yourself in his squad. "Ten minutes Drill Sergeant" a corporal came up to where Myles was standing on the old fortress wall looking out to sea, he found it calming watching the waves break on the beach.
"Cheers Corporal" he said as he checked his uniform was free from sand being blown in and headed towards the main gate. Every three months it was the same a buses full of potential new army officers turned up and for the next 22 weeks they'd be his to mould and shape into the future leaders of the East Moreland military. It was a duty he took seriously after all he'd see through his charges then spend the next 30 weeks helping some of them embed into his beloved Parachute Regiment. He made his way past the flag on the parade square turning his eyes to the right and saluting the flag as he passed. He walked alongside the looming shape of the H blocks that made up the accomodation the new recruits would be calling home for the first 16 weeks of training before they moved into the college building, if they made it that far. By the time he reached the front gate where a tank from the 1960's stood an ever watchful guard as a kind of ceremonial gate guardian the bus was pulling up. The other instructing staff looked at him waiting, he'd let the new recruits stew for a moment or two as he watched some get to their feet, others looking down at the staff looking for clues as to whether they were supposed to get off the bus or stay on. "Time to get this show on the road." Myles said as he tucked his polished pace stick under his arm and headed for the bus door. The civilian bus driver nodded a greeting to the tall NCO as he flicked the switch that made the doors hiss open. Myles stood in the aisle at the front of the bus and saw how around a quarter of the bus was on its feet retrieving bags and various other item. "Sit down" he roared down the bus and instantly almost everyone did. "You have not been told to get out your seats. You may be the future leaders of His Majesties glorious armed forces but you are yet to grow a brain, therefore the only things you do without my permission are blink and breath." He heard a few laughs, "Who is laughing? Which of you laughed? Did I tell you to laugh. I told you that you don't do anything until I tell you....that includes laugh." He had stormed a few paces down the bus. "Did you laugh." he pointed with the pointy polished bronze tipped end of his pace stick at a specticled young man who looked like he wasn't even old enough to shave yet.
"No sir." The new recruit said in a panic.
"Sir." Myles looked disgusted, it was an old act and something he went through every intake. "Sir!" he exclaimed once more. "Do I look like one of you wimps? No I don't." He looked down the length of the bus. "I am Drill Sergeant Killam. That means for the next 22 weeks as far as your concerned I am Helus. I determine who gets to be an officer and who gets to go back home and explain to their families why they are failures. From now on you speak only when invited to by one of us, and the last word out of your mouth is Drill Sergeant. Do you understand?" Mumbles came from down the bus. "Do you understand?"
"Yes Drill Sergeant" the bus echoed. Seemingly satisfied Myles headed down to the front of the bus and smartly turned back to face the back. "You have ten seconds to get your arses off this bus from when I say go." He could see people bracing to get moving and proceeded to go and stand outside. "Go" he bellowed and watched as several Corporals held up their hands showing their fingers ticking down. The recruits piled out the front and middle doors of the bus, each being half pushed towards a set of NCO's who were forming them up into a squad. A few had thought to bring their bag with them, or worse still plastic carrier bags which now got taken from them and flung to the side. The men where formed up in one squad while the women one next to them. Each of the new recruits had been told to turn up in suits, shirt and tie, even the females. "Everything you brought here with you is now contraband. Until Week six everything you need will be provided by His Majesty King David. If you have any mobile phones, wallets, keys, loose change, or anything else in your pockets you are to take an envelope off the NCO's pacing among you, place the objects in it and then place it on the ground in front of you." Several people did as instructed and the NCO's watched as people rummaged in pockets.
The next hour passed with the recruits getting their uniforms, PT gear, rucksacks and everything else a new officer recruit would need, each was shown their dorm, a long single room with ten beds down each side, a large metal wardrobe stood at the back of their personal space, the sides of which was formed by a desk and a wooden chair. A metal footlocker sat at the end of their bed and having been shown how to store everything they were given five minutes to get into PT gear and get outside. Myles was waiting for them, and got them quickly formed up in a squad. "Recruits" he began addressing them, "For the next few weeks we will focus on achieving a basic level of fitness and general military bearing. That means I will be bombarding you with information and you will retain it. If you fail to then this happens.......RIGHT TURN!" he yelled and the group faced the right. "Its about to get hot. BY THE RIGHT. AT THE DOUBLE QUICK MARCH" He watched as for a second or two the group seemed clueless as to what was happening, a handful began jogging clearly from the cadet forces or something, "THAT MEANS RUN FUCKWIT" he bellowed as he began chasing the group up the road between the H-Blocks. They ran several miles around the base before returning, puffing, panting and sweating on the road outside their block. "Everyone inside, get your fresh PT kit on and back out here in three minutes. GO" The group ran inside and a slam of metal doors could be heard as the group got ready. Moments later Myles began his countdown "FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO" the last man ran out the block and formed up on the road. Myles stood them at attention and walked into the dorm room, it was a mess, t-shirts all over the bed, pairs of shorts on the floor and half a dozen lockers left open. Myles headed back out, "SQUAD.....SQUAD SHUN!" he yelled and the group shuffled their tired feet together. "It's about to get hot" he informed them, "RIGHT TURN! BY THE RIGHT. AT THE DOUBLE QUICK MARCH!" It was a series of instructions they'd already begun to get familiar with and would soon forever be ingrained on their memory.
