Where angels dare tread...

Cadet Camp. We had it last year, we had it this year, we'll have it next year. Coming into this year's camp, I was feeling slightly apprehensive, what with what had happened last year. (Fire, injuries, massive brawls with weapons, drugs, etc). To be honest, this camp wasn't really anything like that. It wasn't fun, that's for sure, but it wasn't nearly as bad as last year, from a rank's point of view. That's the other difference between last year's camp and this year's: Last year, I was a cadet, doing what I was told and just getting through it. This year, I am a corporal, so not only did I have to do all the hikes and activities, I had to make sure that the cadets did pretty much what they were supposed to be doing, and were getting engaged...not an easy task.

But let me tell you about the camp from a more chronological point of view. There may be some inaccuracies, since for the majority of the camp I was either tired out of my mind, sleeping, eating, walking or attempting futilely to get the Year 9's to do what the hell they were told.

On day one, after a relatively short bus-ride, we all jumped out of the bus, stiff-legged and weary. First thing was first: Walk about 5km to camp carrying all of our stuff. The pack's weren't too heavy, maybe 30kg max, but that didn't stop all the cadets from complaining 'till they were blue in the face. It didn't take too long to get back to camp, however, and the boys were soon sitting on the side of the road, looking angrily at the HQ tent and the portaloos that they would probably be becoming very familiar with over the next few days.

There is something I must explain...one major difference between this camp and last year's.
The Cicadas.

I spell Cicadas with a capital C because they went, from the start of the camp to the end, from insects, to an aspect of the camp. A theme, if you will. One of the components that served to make the boys hate the camp. The reason? Imagine the loudest noise you have ever heard being made from something natural. This was as loud as that, times...10? They were so loud, and so many, that the high-pitched screeching they made emanated from the trees in which they resided, bounced off everything, and came at you from all directions. So, rather than being a high-pitched screeching from the trees, it sounded almost as if it were coming from the inside of your ear. A high pitched, piercing, throbbing scream that was enough to drive anyone crazy. The only sanctuary was to wear a hat, which blocked out the noise that was coming from above.

Cicadas weren't the only fun insect that was around the campsite either, no no no. There was a myriad of creepy-crawlies all over the place. Bush-cockroaches, beetles, worms, flies, weevils, true bugs, ants, scorpions and SPIDERS. There was definately at least one spider per 10cm squared on the ground. If you picked up a large handful of dirt, the odds were that you had also picked up a spider. The majority of them were quite small, smaller than a fingernail, but there was also quite a few funnel-webs, huntsmans, black house spiders, white-tails and trapdoors if you preferred something bigger to crawl on you while you slept. I'm not afraid of spiders at all, but I would prefer it if something that can bite me would come and face me like a man, rather than falling on my shoulder when I'm least expecting it.

Anyway, back to the chronology.

The first day, we really didn't do anything other than get set up and introduced. We went for a little walk that night, just a couple of km, and we went to bed.
On day two, we took a considerably longer walk. It was probably about 10-15km..I'm not exactly sure, but it took us about 4-5 hours. There was quite a bit of cross-country stuff. It wasn't too eventful, it was more of a dreary trudge than anything else. We played spotlight that night.
Day three: Abseiling and a game of situation spotlight. I, Nick and Tom didn't participate in abseiling, Nick and I electing to spend most of the time sleeping. After all, we had just been on an abseiling and rock-climbing camp, and this was a pretty small abseil. It wasn't all that great hiking up and back to the rock, but that wasn't that bad either. The situation spotlight, however, was a little more interesting.
The target: A glowstick. Weapons-grade uranium, important documents, blueprints, evidence, whatever. Each squad had to go and get it, and bring it back to HQ. It was pretty much pitch-dark, save for the moonlight, and it would involve a lot of cross-country movement, since there were about five guards stationed near the glowstick. Two were patrolling the road near where the glowstick was, two were stationed at intersections to catch out unwary squads, and one (Nick) was placed just off the path into the bush near the glowstick, with his torch off...waiting. Our squad got mostly lost, ending up at HQ with no glowstick. Two of our squad broke off, grabbed the glowstick and got caught. This meant our entire squad was out...but then, no-one got the glowstick. Too many guards I guess. We all went to bed and slept soundly.
Day four was slightly more eventful. It was to be the day that I would remember the best, since it was the only day that anything really bad happened. Everyone was to be making bush-shelters, out of logs, sticks, bark and ferns. They would be sleeping in those that night, even though it was going to rain. Rank didn't have to sleep in the shelters, but we did have to have everyone's bag thrown into our tent. (By tent, I mean hoochie, a piece of water-proof canvas thrown over a string suspended between two trees and pegged to the ground) So the rain was one bad thing that happened that day. But that stopped after a few hours, so it wasn't anything too disastrous.
The other bad thing that happened was a fight that broke out near to the campfire. Paul broke wind (An odd thing for a fight to start over, but oh well), Oscar said "Doorknob" (An odd thing for a fight to start over, but oh well) and began punching paul repedatively. In case you don't know, which you probably don't, Doorknob is an idiotic rule thought up by some genius a while ago. If someone farts, and doesn't say "Safety", and someone else says "Doorknob", the person who says Doorknob gets to punch the offender until they touch a doorknob. Why you would say that out in the BUSH, where there AREN'T any doorknobs, I have no idea...pretty sadistic, if you ask me.
Anyway, Oscar's started punching paul repedatively. Paul has hit at Oscar with his hat, to brush him away, and he must have hit him with a hard part of the hat, or somthing, because Oscar then proceeded to kick Paul in the back. Hard. The toe of his shoe connected and I winced as Paul recoiled from the blow, yelled, and got up to charge at Oscar. It was at this point, (A little late, I know, but better late than never) that I got up, cursing under my breath, and ran in between the two. The break of eye-contact was enough to stop the proceedings. Paul ran off into the Bush a way. I instructed Oscar to come with me to HQ, and walked him over. The teachers (Officers, Leutenant Emmet and Keslar) wished to first know why he had burned a hole in someone else's tent, and then wanted to know why he was there. I left him at this point. After a while, he came to get Paul, who was still in the bush. He was qute upset. He obviously wasn't going to want to talk to the teachers for a little while. After maybe another half-an-hour, Mr. Keslar came and collected Paul, bringing him over to HQ. I don't know exactly what happened to Oscar, but I do know that he was isolated for the rest of the camp - no social contact. I suppose that's the step down from being sent home. That was pretty much it for day four, except for a very short hike through the bush.
Day five: Everyone was going home. The cadets were pretty exited, and many play-fights and tree-pushing downs were happening. The rank and officers had pretty much resigned to leaving late, but surprisingly, everyone banded together and got the campsite packed-up and cleaned pretty quickly. We left exactly on schedule, and got onto the busses at about 1:00. We got back to school at about 2:30. I won't go into what happened in the time between that and me getting home at 4:30, but I'll just say that it's a 10 minute drive, and Nonna needs new glasses.

That's pretty much it. I'm tired of typing now, so I'm going to go and watch Claymore.
Ja ne.