"Энди Макнаб. Немедленная операция (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

me that I hadn't felt so devastated-and so determined-for a long, long time.
ailing Selection was a bit like falling off a horse, only it hurt a
hell of a lot more. I somehow knew that if I didn't get straight back on,
I'd never try again, because I was so pissed off.
Debbie was less than thrilled when I applied again, but the battalion
were really good about it. They didn't give me any time off for training
this time, however, because there were too many commitments-i.e more bone
exercises. % I made up my mind that if I failed Selection a second time, I'd
get out of the army. I was writing away, in my naivete, to companies that
had a lot of Middle East contracts: "Dear Sirs, I can work a mortar." As an
infantry-' man I thought I was God's gift to industry because I could fire a
mortar, and couldn't understand it when the polite letters came back: "Dear
Sir, Fuck off!"
Alex, the captain who'd done so much to help us get some training, took
me aside one day and said, "Every morning when I was shaving, I got the soap
and wrote on the mirror: Battalion No, Regiment Yes."
It had obviously worked for him. I was encouraged.
I did all the training I could in the, free time I had. it was much the
same as before-lots of bergen work, circuit training, and running-building
up the endurance of my heart, lungs, legs, and mind.
The only free time I had to get some more work in over the Beacons was
during the Christmas leave period, which obviously pissed Debbie off
severely. We started to have rows about it. Our marriage was in name only.
She came home one evening, and we had a massive setto.
"We're hardly ever together," she said. "And when we are, all you're
interested in is Selection."
"I'm pissed off with myself for failing," I said.
"Then that makes two of us."
I started to say that she had no idea about what was happening to me,
that my whole world had fallen in, and if I didn't get in next time, our
future was uncertain, because I would leave the army and have to look for
work.
It was a big allnighter, with enough shouting and slamming of doors to
wake up half the block. I was just feeling sorry for myself and couldn't
handle being rejected by the Regiment. My only vent was Debbie, and she, I
thought, didn't understand. The Regiment was what I wanted, and if she
wasn't with me, then as far as I was concerned, she was against me. I told
her she was overreacting, that if I got in, everything would be all right
again and we would get back to where we were before. But Debbie was a bright
girl, and she must have seen the writing on the wall.
What had started as an obsession and become a fixation was now a
passion. I was no longer concerned about anything that happened within the
battalion, unless it was physical. Then I'd throw myself into it, purely
because it was more training.
My mind was focused completely on the first month of Selection. I
wasn't worried about the continuation training at all; once I'd got over
that first month, everything else was the unknown, so I couldn't prepare
myself for it. But I could prepare myself for the first month.
I knew I could pass it. I knew.
During Christmas leave Debbie stayed with her family and I went to