Some of the Company might have wondered where the "Warrior Kings" were over the months of February and March, or, why they were locked away behind doors marked "Courage". It was that time again, competition time, and training had started in earnest.

The competition, for those of you who have yet to raise yourselves above the level of mere mortals, tests the usual line up of military skills but to a very high level and against all comers from London district, including the Paras, the RGJ, 8QF, the Marines and all sorts of corps teams; all in all some 43 teams. The tests on the first day consist of AFV, signals, shooting, cross country driving, first-aid, NBC, vehicle fault finding and the dreaded cross country march. The night phase consists of an orienteering course. The final day has the team completing the Pirbright assault course and shooting in the Failing Plate.

The Team started with 1 5 members and dropped down to seven on the Friday night of the competition. This was the weakest point of the team; we had trained several members up with skills and knowledge above the normal and through injury and other reasons they dropped out, resulting in LCpl Ward being roped into the team on the Friday night with no training. He must be congratulated on a spirited and determined effort. The team also had the support of Harryman as our administration man who single handedly must have made a position difference of about five places as our morale rose to giddy heights on seeing his bacon butties.

The team eventually was as follows: Capt Clements 2IC, Sgt Shephard, Cpl Keal, LCpl Hallett, Pte Taylor, LCpl Ward, Pte Fraser, Pte Logan

I will not bore you with the minute detail of each stand but highlight the moments that make this competition what it really is. We started with the AFV stand which splits the team in two with half looking at micro models through binos and the other half "guessing" planes and tanks off photos. This sounds simple enough but to train yourself up to recognise even the simplest vehicle from scratch takes a long time and a great deal of effort. We came away from this with Cpl Keal less one notebook and the team fighting over a Gepard, or was it a 256 (can you tell the difference?).

We then moved onto the range for the shooting. This went well with Sgt Shephard scoring a perfect 35 out of 35. The shoot included 10 rounds fired at 300m with the respirator on; an achievement for the weapon and the man.

Next stand was the NBC stand, the only one at which we needlessly threw away points on stupid mistakes. There were some close shaves in the gas chamber whilst changing respirators. Taylor had to fight to get Sgt Shephard's attention who was wrestling with his own cannister, and Fraser was turning a shade of blue in the other corner (reminding him of earlier respiratory problems).

The First-aid stand will go down in medical history as a demonstration of how the infantry deal with drunks who are hindering operations; bungy them to the nearest fence! I still maintain that the casualty was lucky not to have been headbutted. Unfortunately, as the stand was being marked by pinko softie girls we failed to score quite as highly as we would have liked.

The signal stand was simple enough, asking the team to set up a 351 and establish comms. We then had to encode and decode some grids and one long bateo message. Most came up with the right answer but there were a few unfortunate "bridge blown platoon commander with call sign running replen".

The cross country driving and vehicle fault finding stands worked well in principle. In practice the fault finding was less than successful but through no fault of ours. We detonated a booby trap and, according to the two truckies who had rigged it up, destroyed the whole team in a massive thermonuclear explosion caused by a buried hand grenade. Sgt Shephard completed a faultless reversing stand and the driving by Taylor went surprisingly well.

Then came the stand we were all waiting for, the cross country march. This is a 'march' of five miles over the Pirbright ranges with webbing and weapon weighing 35 Ibs. The course is tough, the first two miles are uphill along the range track setting the team up for the Four Sisters which are a set of short but terrifying hills, one after the other. If you want to know how awe inspiring they are, just ask a courage team member and look into his battle shocked eyes. This was where the injury problems started to show and the team was slowed to a walking pace towards the end, which, for the members who were fitter, was heartbreaking especially after so much training. Both LCpl Ward and Logan must be congratulated on tough performances over a nightmare course.

The night phase was a 5km navigation exercise with points deducted from a total for every minute the team spent on the course. Sgt Shephard's and Cpl Keal's rugby injuries really began to tell and both halves of the team had to complete the course in a frustrating walk losing points all the way.

The next day started with the assault course which was testing as only the Pirbright course can be. Again the injuries bit and the team did not do as well as they could. Logan, who's impersonation of a mental incapacitent casualty during training on the assault course, rose to the occasion and wandered around the end of the course, not even knowing he was alive until he was dragged over the finish line talking to himself.

The falling plate ... well, that will be covered later. In the end we came a respectable 12th. As you can see from the account, fitness played a major role and had all gone according to plan we could have done a lot better. This being said, the team worked well and performed with grit and determination, and should be congratulated on an impressive performance ... and better luck next year!

The Falling Plate Competition

The last part of the Courage Trophy competition is the falling plate shoot. This is where the gladiators of the gladiators from the company contest to the last in a toe to toe, hard hitting, knockout falling plate shoot. This consists of four of the team moving at best speed from the 300m point to the 200m point and engaging 10 steel plates, each about A4 size, and hoping to knock them down as fast as possible, or at least faster than the other team. We turned up after the first few teams had gone through the time trials to find the fastest eight teams who go on to enter the knockout proper. Capt Clernents approached the umpire and enquired what was the fastest time so far.

"56 seconds, Sir. You'll have to work hard to beat that." 

"Umm. Should be no problem."

We then approached the 300m point hyper ventillating with adrenaline as part of our run up to cut down the panting whilst firing. We crouched with our belts barely touching the ground waiting for the off. 37 seconds later it was all over. We were definitely in the final 8 Knockout. (Capt Clernents beat LCpl Hallett to the firing point).

We came away and huddled in a nervously confident group sheltering from the rain. A Para Sgt swanned up, cast an all knowing and patronising eye over the team, and said "It'll be an all Para final".

Our first opposition was, I believe, a Para team. We dispatched them with a weak groan from their massive support and several digs about the World Cup Rugby score which had just finished. We were into the semis. LCpl Hallett and Capt Clements had to set off at the sprint followed by Sgt Shephard and Cpl Keal who, still nursing their injuries, had to hobble down to the point at best possible speed trailing behind.

The next team we spat out were the Marines, much to the delight of the Paras, who thought the RGJ were going to lose to one of their teams. Wrong again. We were into the finals.

All the Marine teams had been kicked out and the Paras too. It was between us and the RGJ (including Capt Clement's flat mate). We lined up on the two lonely rows of seats with a much diminished Para observer corps but a very pro us crowd. Maj Alired and the General set us off. With a nightmare slow feeling the 200m point approached. Eventually after what seemed ages you were able to hurl yourself down, the weapon seemed to cock in slow time and you started firing. The plates fall but so slowly. There was a flurry of plates failing, some rounds going too high, others kicking up the sand and obscuring the plates until at last the final plate fell. All the heads lifted from their sights and looked down the range. There on the RFJ side was one lone, and from our point of view, super plate. We had done it and it was great.

The beer wasn't too bad either. The Para Sgt had entirely disappeared to boot, odd that.

Last updated 27/12/00