Mud Sweat & Tears - Bear Grylls [65]
This process would teach us to carry out intricate skills accurately, swiftly and, most importantly, intuitively. The learning curve to reach this standard would be intense. We were told that any mistakes or slip-ups would be excused once only. After that you had to get the drills right, every time – if you didn’t you were out.
More than anything, I wanted to be capable of the standard the SAS required, to make the grade and learn the skills. I was determined not to mess up this opportunity that I had worked so hard to get.
We had ahead of us many long weekends to learn these specialist skills. Then would come a long, intensive battle camp lasting several weeks, where our skills and character would be put to the test under exhausting and pressured conditions to see if ultimately we were up to becoming SAS soldiers.
At the end of this would come the most gruelling of phases, designed to ‘initiate’ combat troops to be prepared for capture. If we successfully came through that (and we were told that this phase always claimed a few scalps), then, and only then, would the ‘Who Dares Wins’ cap-badge and SAS beret be earned.
On our first weekend training at SAS HQ, the pace started hard. But now it wasn’t all about the physical. This was about learning the skills – and then combining those skills with the physical strength we had developed.
We were summoned before dawn into an underground bunker. This was where all the ‘lectures’ and information would now be thrown at us – thick and fast.
‘Explanation. Demonstration. Imitation.’ That was the mantra. We would have a drill explained to us, be shown it, then be expected to perform it. Again and again until we got it perfect.
We would cover a huge amount of ground in these days, getting familiar with any of the SOPs (standard operating procedures) that UK Special Forces use.
What I noticed, though, was that the atmosphere now was very different – we were no longer treated as recruits, as numbers – but were treated more like potential SAS soldiers – soldiers the DS might well have to fight alongside in the near future.
So those DS now had a vested interest in making sure we learnt the drills properly and that any weak links amongst us were weeded out.
In many ways this next phase was less forgiving than the mountains. If that was possible. It was more subjective – if the DS didn’t think you were up to the job, or you weren’t picking things up fast enough – or if they simply reckoned your face didn’t quite fit, then you were gone. No questions asked.
What the DS cared about now was this: are you quick to learn? Can you react, adapt and improvise? Can you remain calm under pressure? Can you work well in a small team, as well as alone? Are you self-disciplined, organized, yet able to show controlled aggression when needed?
I could also now understand why the physical levels demanded had been so high. That fitness was now being put into practice – it had a purpose.
‘You have a heli extraction due in five hours – the location is fifteen miles away. You also have one casualty and an enemy force on your tail. If the mission is to be successful you have to make that heli RV – so get moving.’
And I was loving it.
CHAPTER 59
There was no doubting we now felt more part of the SAS fold, and it felt good.
As we rehearsed the enemy contact drills over and over again, the adrenalin flowed non-stop. We were either fighting our way out of snap-ambushes, lugging ammunition and radios up mountains, or preparing for dawn raids on disused farm buildings.
In-between it all we would still be doing endless runs and PT sessions, and of course the inevitable battle PT and pack run.
Just when we were getting the hang of one set of drills, they would throw a whole load more at us. It was a relentless pace, mentally, to keep up with, and it is why the SAS are considered to be the ultimate