Warrior Training by Keith Fennell

pleased to have finished, and that if they didn’t accept me I would try again the following year. Ma wished me luck and said she had a feeling I’d be accepted. Mother’s intuition – if anyone knew what sort of person I was, it was her.
    There were several guys waiting to use the phone so we didn’t speak for long. Besides, it was nearly dinnertime and I wanted to see how much food I could squash into my stomach. Although I was full within five minutes, I kept eating for at least 30. My stomach ached and I found it difficult to breathe. I lay on my bed shirtless, my pants undone and my legs splayed, in an attempt to minimise any pressure on my stomach.
    Rog stuck his head in my room. ‘Hey, mate, a few of the guys are going to Fremantle to grab a beer and a steak. You coming?’
    I felt like I was in labour and four weeks overdue. ‘Nah, mate, I’m gonna chill out and lie here for a while.’
    â€˜Cool, brother, I’ll see you tomorrow.’
    Grab a steak? Are they freaking serious? I thought. Just breathing hurts . As it turned out, the guys didn’t have the energy to party and were all in bed by 2300 that night.
    I had a restless night’s sleep and woke up hungry. I went to the mess and had a couple of bowls of chocolate cocoa flakes. I had just completed the most challenging course in the Australian military, yet when given the opportunity to eat, I chose a children’s breakfast cereal ahead of pancakes, bacon, eggs and toast.
    Just walking around still left me light-headed. I couldn’t feel the soles of my feet at all, and after breakfast I spent 15 minutes squeezing thorns out of my shins, knees andthighs. The hours crawled by. We cleaned vehicles and anything else the quartermaster could think of. In the early afternoon, while we were seated on the grass outside the quartermaster’s store, the SI made an announcement.
    â€˜The following men are to follow me inside. Everyone else is to remain in place.’
    The SI disappeared with about eight men, a combination of soldiers and officers. When he returned we were told that those who remained had been found suitable for further training. There were no congratulations – just a warning that anyone who failed to perform during the next phase of the training would also be sent back to their units.
    Colleen was right – we would be moving to Perth.

I had passed the course and was accepted into the SAS. I was fortunate – not everyone in life realises what they want to do for a job and then sees it come to fruition. I had set a mid-term goal and had dedicated myself wholeheartedly to making it happen. Injury, age, endurance and negative comments were some of the obstacles I was confronted with, but from the outset I had known what I wanted and my motivation had not wavered.
    Whenever I set myself big challenges, the first thing I do is ask: why am I doing this? What is my motivation? Without a strong and true desire, you’ll struggle to push through adversity.
    I wanted to work with the best soldiers in the Australian military, and I wanted to be deployed on the most challenging tasks. I craved an exciting occupation where I would be tested. Soldiers don’t join the SAS for money or because it sounds cool. The men are passionate about soldiering and strive to take it to the highest level. Desire spawns motivation, and motivation creates opportunity. You don’t need to venture far for that – motivation comes from within.

    The day after the selection course ended, we were granted four days’ leave. The only proviso was that we must not do any physical training. For once in my life, going for a run or to the gym was the furthest thing from my mind. We were given some learning booklets to study at our own pace, but besides that our time was our own.
    I was the only soldier from the 6th Battalion to pass the course, so initially I wasn’t part of any clique. The guys from the