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I know a few soldiers, I will call them soldiers because really…..Once a soldier always a soldier, still with that wee stomp when they stand up, the salute, the terminology, sense of humour, the spray starched clothing and the immaculately shined shoes, its all still there. They have a way of looking at you that you just know they disapprove of your naive civilian lifestyle.
Our ex military guys have to train, I mean really train. Like an ingrained microchip that is programmed for routine, for schedule, for something accountable and systematic. It keeps them going for instance when they get a job on civvy street and get told what to do by a spotty teenager. The treadmill just doesn’t cut it. Add a day pack with 20kg in it and we have a happy guy, well at least a grumpy happy guy. 5km Outdoor run? Ha haaa they laugh even at the suggestion, 30mile yomps with another 20kg on their back and possibly even in boots seems to do the trick. Press ups? Give us a break. Add 20kg and do them on one leg with the knee of the other foot coming up to their chin, even that isn’t as much of a thrashing as they are used to. See a pattern. Even if they haven’t exercised for a good while there is no such thing as starting easy. It’s not what they are made of. I love it.
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I have nothing but respect for the guys that offered up their lives, their families, everything, for us to be able to lead our normal day to day existence just as we have done for years and will do for years to come. But hey…. What do I know. I’m just a Civvy.