Roach

Chapter 4

On the tenth month of my nearly eleven month training one of my superior officers had recommended me for SAS training. It's a high honor for someone who's just gone through most of basic training and hasn't seen any combat. Usually they don't let someone like me in, though if potential is there the SAS wouldn't hesitate on picking it up. From when I was suggested to now, I've finished most of my SAS training. I've been deprived of sleep, food, water, and hikes that nearly killed me. Everyone was talking about how the physical training was killing them but I think that enduring the psychological training nearly cracked me. It's been hell and a half but I think it's finally been worth it. The three months of hell are coming to a close and I've been preparing myself to get placed on a team.

Sitting in the mess hall, I silently watch as some of my classmates talk amongst themselves. Most of them have already done the psychological testing though some don't look as if they'll make it through another night. I remember when we all came here, there were at least three hundred, most of which had already seen combat while there were maybe twenty of us who were fresh out of standard RAS, or other branches, training. It was a strange atmosphere when most of us younger recruits stuck through longer than the soldiers that had seen combat.

As of now there's only five of the original twenty of us with zero combat experience. We had tried to talk more to one another but that didn't seem to work out for any of us. The one recruit that I had tried to become friends with had eventually left during our last intense hike. He nearly died during that hike and I guess that's where he had more than enough. I don't blame him, he was in really bad condition when we were nearing the top of the mountain.

"You were Sanderson, yeah?" Someone asks breaking me from my thoughts. Looking up, I see a man with a balaclava with a skull design on it. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all." I reply almost nervously. I'd seen this man a few times before but he was always with another group, more towards the top of whoever was left. From what I've seen he's a better soldier than most of those that are left—me included. So I'm a little confused as to why he'd even be speaking to me.

"Heard we'd be working together from here on out." He continues, largely ignoring how nervous I sounded beforehand. I watch as he pulls down his mask slightly, allowing him to eat his food a bit easier. "Lance Corporal Riley, at your service." I can just barely see a smile form on his face. "Though most here have gotten used to calling me Ghost."

"Nice to meet you, Ghost."

"You too, Sanderson."

"Roach." I correct, "You can call me Roach. Everyone else already does so might as well keep it up."

He laughs a little, "Roach? How the hell did you get stuck with that name?"

"Dumb luck I guess."

"Dumb luck," he repeats, still laughing about it.

"So," I start, wanting to talk about other things. "We'll be working together? How'd you find out? They haven't told any of us about squads yet."

"They call me Ghost for a reason, mate."

We both laugh, enjoying the moment. I'm glad that Ghost seems to have a sense of humor, unlike the rest of the guys here. Lunch seems to go by faster than either of us expected.

"Guess I'll see you later, Ghost."

"Yeah," He chuckles, "Glad I know that I'll have someone to watch my back on our new squad."

"Same here."

He covers his face with his balaclava once more before leaving me. Watching him for a second, he seems to disappear into the crowd of soldiers with ease. "Ghost is a suiting name for him," I say under my breath.

A few hours pass, I haven't seen Ghost since lunch, which is fine. He is a Lance Corporal and probably has more responsibilities than I could ever have at my current experience level. Whoever hasn't gone through psychological training are getting ready. They've probably heard crazy stories from whoever's still here and are probably afraid of what will happen next.

It's almost 1400 and some of the superior officers have started to gather everyone who's finished the mandatory training together. We're all standing in a room, where one of the Captains is getting ready to tell us where we're going. He lists off different names, then new commanding officers that they'll be working under. The captain calls out Ghost, a two other men, and myself. He states that we'll be working under the 22nd regiment, like much of the others, though under a specialized force. He mentions that they work close with Captain MacMillan, though to not get our hopes up of seeing MacMillan ourselves. After a few more are placed in regiments and squads, we're dismissed. 

"Told ya I was right," Ghost says as he catches up with me.

"And eager to be working with me."

"Ah yeah, it's not every day that someone under twenty makes it into the SAS. You're a rare case, Roach."

"So I keep hearing. I guess you introduced yourself to the other two that we got paired with."

"Actually I haven't. They seem like average blokes, both of which are older than me and have more experience than the two of us combined."

"And they didn't peak your interest."

"Nope." He chuckles, "I mean, they have to be hardened vets but they aren't as fresh outta selection as you are."

"Fresh out? You must be mistaken. They took me before I completed my full forty nine weeks."

"Damn really?"

"Yeah."

"That's really impressive. I did a tour in Russia before getting picked for the SAS. They said it was something about my sniping ability."

"Natural born?"

"That's what they told me. I mean, I never thought I'd be good enough for the SAS, personally, but here I am."

"I'm kinda amazed I'm here too. I didn't think they could pluck you right out of the RAS like that."

He shrugs, "Didn't expect to get plucked out of the RM but here I am." He nudges slightly causing the both of us to laugh.