Selection

Naked, from 200 hopefuls down to 60. But they still hadn't made it. On a bitter English spring morning they stood, in a second world war hangar in Hereford. They were not given the luxury of clothing, they were of course wanting to join the finest regiment in the British Army and maybe even the world. The SAS, formed during WW2 carried out reconnaissance and sabotage missions in German occupied Africa. Ever since they have set the standard for being the best, the very best.

Most of the men standing there were from the Parachute Regiment, 65 percent of the regiment were from the paras. They see themselves as the "hard nuts" of the Army. There were however a large number of lads from regular infantry regiments along with a hand full of Royal Engineers and even a chef. No matter what cap badge they wore, all were equal at this point. They had one more task ahead of them and they all knew it would be hell, not much has changed concerning selection in the Regiment since it's formation. Most of the soldiers who want to be a part of the SAS focus on being the strongest around, these soldiers are mostly para's and are quickly shown that resembling 'the hulk' is not always what the Regiment is looking for. More mental strength is required than physical strength. This was clear looking at the line-up of soldiers in the hangar. They had survived the physical tests, mostly TABs across the Devonshire countryside, however now they faced their biggest test. It won't test their upper body strength or their ability to TAB for 12 solid hours, instead it would test their 'state of mind'. A phrase most commonly associated with Royal Marines.

The man who would be in control of this test was Captain Harris, the sight of him would make any tough squaddy shit his pants. There were many people like him in the British Army. Fearless, disciplined, experienced and empty. Empty he was because he had no care for these men, he only wanted the best. The Captain himself was an ex Para, he left school when he was 15 and joined the Parachute Regiment at 17. Although he is only in his late 40's, his scars and tired, overworked expression make him look at least 55. He is a perfect example of the effects of war on a human being. As the youngest ever soldier in the regiment, he was the first British soldier although unofficially to set foot in the Falklands. He carried out countless missions in the middle-east and Asia, he was even meant to be a part of the famous Bravo Two Zero mission, however a certain Sergeant named McNab was given the position instead.

With no emotion he briefed the men, most of them were probably not listening. Most thinking about a warm bed or dry clothes. Captain Harris with his monotone voice barked out the instructions whilst pacing up and down and inbetween the ranks. All of the men, despite the blisters, bruises and cuts stood to attention with their backs straight and their heads and eyes forward. The task that they faced would be carried out over seven days, each man would be equipped with some 1950's style green overalls and horrible army issue boots with string for laces. This was to make them as uncomfortable as possible and to see how they handled the inevitable pain they would face, already battered and knackered from the previous weeks. In addition to their basic inventory of clothing they would be given a hand drawn silk map and a compass. These items were necessary as their task would not be to complete an attack on an imaginary enemy or even to follow a PTI across a mountain. Their task would simply be to survive. This however would not be as easy as it seems, they would be tracked by a hunter force equipped with night vision, land rovers and dogs. This excersize was common practice for this hunter troop. They were from Pathfinder Platoon, trained soldiers in tracking and intelligence gathering who often worked along side the SAS.