Charlie Mike

Charlie Mike, or CM, or in military lingo, Carry on Mission. It means that an objective has not been met, but that the mission has to carry on anyway. Two weeks passed again, but what an eventful two weeks it has been. No longer is the A level results looming over my head, and the prospect of not passing out a threat hanging over me. I got my results, and I'm now a private.

But, there's a reason that I'm doing a Charlie Mike. Results weren't great, B, B, C, C and a disappointing B4 for GP. Definitely takes scholarships out of my grasp, and at first when receiving the results, that overwhelming sense of disappointment in not meeting expectations hit me. That same night, after receiving my results, I had to book in back to camp after again, failing on that same morning my Standard Obstacle Course by a timing of 10:48, 18 seconds too late, despite the best run of my life at the end. 4 March 2005, will remain as the lowest point in my life for quite some time.

Booking in at 1930, Sergeant gave me a quizzical look. The time to book in was 2100, I was way too early and recruits NEVER book in so early. But when he found out it was due to results, all he gave was an understanding look on his face, and these three words of wisdom. Life goes on. I got into an empty bunk, dumped my stuff one corner, got on my bed and stared at the whirring fan right above me.

Life never stood still until that moment. My mind just kept flashing back to the moment I picked up that result slip, and staring at it blankly. The pain of receiving the dismal results repeated itself, over and over again, each time piercing harder into me. My thoughts seemed so fixated on that moment, that it stopped time itself. I was so deep in depression if anyone read my diary entry on that day, they would probably think I was already doing my airborne course, without a parachute. I went as far as writing a last letter, the type which family and friends receive posthumously. Then, the whirring of the fans caught my eye. They kept moving, were moving all the time, and will continue to move. In a half-depressed. mostly maniacal mood, my interpretation of the fans moving was this.

Life goes on.

Despite what happens, when the shit hits the fan or when you're in a bed of roses, time still continues. And if there's one thing I picked up in 9 weeks of being a commando trainee, it's that when you feel drained or stumble and fall, you pick yourself up and move on. Every moment you may feel like you're dying, or that you cannot continue anymore, you remind yourself of one thing. You're not dead yet, and while you're still alive and can will yourself to stand on your own two feet, you keep moving until those legs give in, not when your mind wants to give up.

I accept defeat, but not surrender. It's in my character now, and soon I hope I can imprint that on my genetic code as well. The results may suck a whole lot, but it's over and I can't afford to sit down and moan about it. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise, allowing me to focus more on my mission in life, rather than trying to climb the ladder. My sights are now set on signing on, and doing well enough to qualify me for an overseas mission, and for this, I accept nothing but success.

Passing out today, I have moved out of a phase in life. No longer am I watching the front and waiting. No longer sitting in a foxhole, waiting. I'm out, charging into the future, and giving it the best run i can. It's all, and nothing not accepted.

In "The Last Samurai", just before they move in for a suicidal frontal charge, a "Pickett Charge" against a superior force, someone asked "Do you believe a man can change his destiny?"

The reply? "I believe a man does what he can, until his destiny is revealed." Life is just like that, a charge into an end, which we do not see yet. But it's not about the end that matters. It's the journey, and I'm walking it the way I feel is best. I may be breathing hard, feeling the weight on my shoulders, and the sweat trickling down my face. I may stumble, may even fall. But I'm determined to do one thing. Charlie Mike.

Don