Orienteering- or was it?
Whilst undergoing basic training, some bright spark of an officer decided to hold an orienteering competition. A lesser spark volunteered me to be on the team of junior bandsmen. Big mistake. If Lesser Spark had checked, he would have realised that a) I had no interest in or aptitude for the sport and b) couldn't read a freaking orienteering map, which to me looked like a drawing of a rotting omelette with a pretty grid next to it. So, out into the woods in running kit on the back of a 4 tonner, dropped off with the rest of the ( very keen ) team at the start with said omelette. The whistle was blown, and I started walking in their tracks whilst my teammates disappeared off into the undergrowth. Lesser Spark grabs me by the arm and says " if you don't start fucking running you'll be in clink when this is over. " I duly complied, becoming quickly and thoroughly lost. Once out of sight of the gathered arseholes, I returned to walking, found a couple of checkpoints, punched random squares on the grid, and found myself somewhere comfortable to have a kip for an hour or so within distant earshot of the start. After a nice doze under the trees, I got up, stretched and ran back to the start. Lesser Spark and the rest of the team were hopping with rage: apparently they would have won easily had I emulated their athletic prowess. Moral of the story? Do your research before picking your team; fuck me about, and you will pay.
( uncle bastard is twanging a dan moi, Sat 21 Apr 2012, 11:44, Reply)