This one goes out to the whole division. And already I can hear a chorus of voices, one of them distinctly Scottish (you know who you are!) and the other Scouse (three guesses who), piping up with a combination of happiness and dread. "Here we go boys! Throbson's latest offering has been deposited on the table of the Artful Gods for a fresh dose of mockery! Beers out and let the games begin!" Too bloody right ladies and gents. This post is going to be emotional; its going to be a roller coaster...or not. Really it depends on how my mood changes whilst I'm writing it; which could be at the drop of a hat.
I'd like to make a departure from the seemingly endless recurring theme of "lesson's learnt", which seems to have been going on for months now, and the whole "different person walking through the gates from the one who arrived mentality". Yes I am regretting that latter one because it kept a certain person entertained no end for the best part of a fortnight, seriously it was like giving a kid something to colour in! Endless amusement for a low cost, I mean if I didn't know better I'd say...but I'm getting distracted. If I may move away from my aborted rant I shall return to the meat of this article; the importance of Gallows Humour.
I really have come to understand just how hugely important such humour is. It doesn't matter how many times someone asks you if you've filled out that ASDA application form in the weeks following MARL, you'll laugh at it every time. Likewise you'll laugh at being told that you're in "the wrong brief. This is for people going on IFT." You'll say exactly the same things to your mates, tells them not to worry, that Conqueror is an awesome package and you'll send them a postcard from Bulwark. You'll do this right up until the day the results get published, and then the night before you won't sleep.
Also if you're me, you'll find yourself trying to sing yourself to sleep by endlessly singing "One day more" from Les Miz in your cabin. What do you mean you haven't tried it yourself and that its just me? Seriously?! Damn! Well in that case forget I said anything. But back on track. Unfortunately the dark humour can only take you so far. It when you're stood around with your dick in your hands at 8am still waiting for the results with an increadibly squeaky ring piece that you realise that everyone else is just as nervous as you are. Don't believe it? Watch just how quickly 25 people can get up to an office when they're told that the results are ready to go. Obviously I didn't see them, I was at the front despite being declared obese! (I'm just big boned OK?!)
Ultimately though, despite all the nerves and the jibes, you all stand outside the office together, receive your results together, congratulate and console one another as a team. FACT. And afterwards all the nerves and fear you felt is all gone, whatever the result may have been.
"Fear is Temporary. Regret is Permanent."
Monday, 4 February 2013
Saturday, 12 January 2013
"To arms!"
The day after tomorrow I step on board a BRNC Picket Boat and commence Exercise MARL. For three nights and four days I'll be out there on the river Dart, sleep deprived, cold and wet for the second time. There's no way of putting it delicately, funnily enough if you know me you'll have guessed that; I absolutely have to pass this exercise. Failure to do so will Compulsory Withdrawal From Training and an ignominious return to civvie street...not ideal.
Its no secret that my performance on this exercise last time around was nothing short of shocking. Hardly something that could be put down to a bad day at the office either, as I could see the whole thing sliding out of my control right before my very eyes yet still could do NOTHING to prevent it. Now, over the past few posts I've said time and again how this was as a result of the pressure I put myself under in an environment where I really didn't need to. This time around you'd be right to think that there is reason to be feeling the same pressure that brought me down last time; "This is it Robson, time to deliver, fail and its back to cutting the hedge in your parent's back garden!"
Strangely though, that pressure isn't there this time. Am I worried that I may be soon heading home a civilian? Obviously its on my mind, but not to the extent that's its going to break me. I know I can do what is set before me, I have seen myself do it and I now know that I can do it again. The truth is I realise this time around, and what I failed to appreciate before, is that even though there is an officer sat a foot away from me assessing my performance it is not they who decide whether I pass or fail, but me. I am my own examiner, and last time I examined myself too harshly.
The point I guess I'm trying to drive at, in that usual long-winded "Jim get to the bloody point!" way of mine is that whatever examination conditions you are in, passing it always comes down to the same things.
Firstly, its a question of self-confidence: There is no room for modesty or facade here, you have to absolutely know and believe that you have the ability to pass, if you don't then you will be chewed up and spat out.
Secondly, preparation: If you find yourself in a situation before an examination where you find yourself changing and tinkering with your notes and plans because you have nothing else to do, or asking yourself "What more can I do?" and being genuinely unable to think of an answer then the chances are you've done enough.
Thirdly, support: Vital if on the occasion that you falter, even if it is only for a second, you have someone to tell you that you're essentially being an idiot and that you'll be fine. I was very lucky to have 10 people immediately on hand in the College to tell me this, as well as many more merely a phone call away. Your own self-confidence will increase tenfold if you have people behind you backing it up.
Whatever the outcome of next week may be, one thing is not in doubt; that the man who either returns to the civilian world or goes to sea is not the same man who walked in through the gates. It was actually my friend's girlfriend who perhaps summed things up best for me, when she said to my date at the Christmas Ball, "He wanted it too much". She was right.
That is not to say there here, now, today, I don't want to march up the steps with a sword in my hand any less than on the day I got here, but I'm not going to let that desire dictate my actions or my behaviour anymore. And with that in mind, its time to go and kick the arse out of MARL!
Its no secret that my performance on this exercise last time around was nothing short of shocking. Hardly something that could be put down to a bad day at the office either, as I could see the whole thing sliding out of my control right before my very eyes yet still could do NOTHING to prevent it. Now, over the past few posts I've said time and again how this was as a result of the pressure I put myself under in an environment where I really didn't need to. This time around you'd be right to think that there is reason to be feeling the same pressure that brought me down last time; "This is it Robson, time to deliver, fail and its back to cutting the hedge in your parent's back garden!"
Strangely though, that pressure isn't there this time. Am I worried that I may be soon heading home a civilian? Obviously its on my mind, but not to the extent that's its going to break me. I know I can do what is set before me, I have seen myself do it and I now know that I can do it again. The truth is I realise this time around, and what I failed to appreciate before, is that even though there is an officer sat a foot away from me assessing my performance it is not they who decide whether I pass or fail, but me. I am my own examiner, and last time I examined myself too harshly.
The point I guess I'm trying to drive at, in that usual long-winded "Jim get to the bloody point!" way of mine is that whatever examination conditions you are in, passing it always comes down to the same things.
Firstly, its a question of self-confidence: There is no room for modesty or facade here, you have to absolutely know and believe that you have the ability to pass, if you don't then you will be chewed up and spat out.
Secondly, preparation: If you find yourself in a situation before an examination where you find yourself changing and tinkering with your notes and plans because you have nothing else to do, or asking yourself "What more can I do?" and being genuinely unable to think of an answer then the chances are you've done enough.
Thirdly, support: Vital if on the occasion that you falter, even if it is only for a second, you have someone to tell you that you're essentially being an idiot and that you'll be fine. I was very lucky to have 10 people immediately on hand in the College to tell me this, as well as many more merely a phone call away. Your own self-confidence will increase tenfold if you have people behind you backing it up.
Whatever the outcome of next week may be, one thing is not in doubt; that the man who either returns to the civilian world or goes to sea is not the same man who walked in through the gates. It was actually my friend's girlfriend who perhaps summed things up best for me, when she said to my date at the Christmas Ball, "He wanted it too much". She was right.
That is not to say there here, now, today, I don't want to march up the steps with a sword in my hand any less than on the day I got here, but I'm not going to let that desire dictate my actions or my behaviour anymore. And with that in mind, its time to go and kick the arse out of MARL!
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