Well I spent as much time as I could with Mia before they crammed us into a train car and shipped the whole lot off to basic training. And just before I left on that train she gave me her address and said I could write, this is probably what has kept me going like I have been. Basic training was arduous, and long without much in the way of highlights to relate to you now, though for posterity I will admit that I could shoot the hell out of anyone else in our unit except perhaps the other Americans of course. But I'm not a combat man, I never wanted to kill anyone really, engineering and mining were my tasks and that's where I made my mark on them all. It was here I really got to meet the people I'd serve with, for American's are not highly thought of in the British military, despite our history with or against them it's an open matter that they don't place a value on us as soldiers. So we naturally end up in the same units for training and for other tasks they came up with for us. But If American's are known for a couple of things it's finding solutions to problems without regards to "how things are done" and keeping each other close.

Two of my great friends were there with me, we'd met on the boat and by the time things got rough in training I realized that all we had were each other and we never forgot it. By the time that our unit was ready to leave I was less than affectionately called "Number One" by our British overlords, and my closest friend was "Number Two", the two of us were like mirror images physically we're almost the same to glance at. But  where he slides through a barracks in the darkness to set up a collection of cans and trip wires after buttering the entire floor of the sergeant's room and getting out without disturbing his bulldog. I have trouble moving through the tea shops without bumping into things. I'm not clumsy, after all I handled explosives and detonates without ever having an issue, but he simply ghosts through life and I walk through it solidly. Number Two as he was ever after called such, our little bunch of "cow boys" as they called us were always into some kind of trouble. Number Two was my right hand in all things outside, while I was there to make sure he passed all things indoors. The rest of our unit largely speaking could handle their own except one or two people found to be less the student and more the out doors types.

They simulated a gas attack on us one day, out doors with no gas masks using tear gas only they used about five times as much as is needed to break a riot up. Then blind folded us after we could barely see anyways and then ordered us through a field of barbed wire and fake explosives while shooting over and around us. The idea was to make it back to "base" while unable to see and do it while leading our buddies back too. Now no one makes it through this one without loosing someone, and most units don't even complete the course. The penalty for this is a severe running round the camp till the unit collapsed in front of the entire camp at the end of the day...
We were broken into two groups and thrown into the field with other groups. Now the first thing you do if find everyone in your unit. Number Two found everyone by a careful search and ordering them all to ground. I was aware of every single location we had walked, I just always do. And waited for the sounds of compliance to greet us even as the NCO's were screaming at us and artillery shells were going off. Then I moved around until we'd found everyone and got them to line up. After that you normally would be made to stand and walk back, but under fire this is certain death. To remind you of this someone is instructed to throw cricket balls at random and strike anyone standing up. Where they remain until the end of the day as a casualty. Just to keep it realistic the "dead" are still hit periodically to keep them yelling and crying out for help and add to the chaos of it all.
So we moved through the battle field and did it by way of some improv movements you see, each person got into line, while the perfect navigator lead them the man with outstanding fieldcraft came up in the back to make sure that none were left behind. Even after people were "tagged" by enemy fire we managed to keep them moving by getting hold of their belts and pulling them in step with our selves. To cross a field on your belly about half a mile would take almost an hour or more. Do it in a straight line while blind folded alone takes about twice as long. Do it as a team and forget about timed races, now do it with a war going on around you and all bets are off... Like I said, not many people complete it and no one ever makes it all out as a unit.
Once or twice something went wrong, and we were scattered only to form up again and begin the task as before. Several times we even found and caught stragglers from other units, taking them with us as they came along too. Well at some point we came to the point where we should have exited the field, except now there was more barbed wire! OH JOY, not that was wrong mind you just that something had changed while we were unable to see around us. So after a bit of a talk head to head it was decided that several of us would move forwards and find the posts where the fencing was secured, then the back up guys would come up along side and as a pair of groups we ripped the posts out of the ground and at once pushed the fences upwards while the rest of the party scooted under again...

Now they say the British Army does not accept defeat, they have even less acceptance to answers which defy tradition to go along with that. The result was a return from the field of every man in our unit, dead or injured and half a dozen men from other units. Some times when you get tired of something you don't like you might be tempted to act out, and it turns out the hitting people with cricket balls just because they thew one at you is also something they frowned upon... Several promising young men were "tragically injured" by a baseball enthusiast with a good arm and dead on aim as it turned out. We were recognized for our cool headedness under fire, the individual's abilities to navigate as well as throw grenades back to their owners and finally for bringing everyone we found back out of it.

And after that we were made to run until we threw up for failing to complete the course as planned, demolishing the fence and lest we not forget for striking a superior with cricket balls. This was one of the last tests we had to do strictly speaking as infantry. The rest were not very interesting and unless someone else relates them will go on without being said or recorded.

However, we did receive two chances to live out a weekend underground in a team based tunnels and trenches recreation. The plan was to have the German's try to take out your trench over the course of a weekend while the fake shelling and machine gun fire was going off. It's a little disconcerting at first but soon enough we settled into it all. everyone was in charge of their little patch of ground and with our equipment on hand the routine of it all came well enough to us. Now the British are supposed to win that's a pretty easy bet right? After all they want you to feel good when you take the fields for the first time, but our officer at the time a kid from some family or another could barely load his hand gun much less to lead us. He got "hit" by one of the rouge cricket balls and was declared dead from a grenade or something. Much later we learned that German Grenades don't go off on impact and take almost twelve seconds to blow up if at all...
But there we are without a leader and it's raining while the German's advanced over a field towards us, We had wooden rifles, wooden knives and our kit. So we are supposed to yell BANG! very loudly then the German falls to the ground.

Each of us pointed to a "German" and did our job, some of them fell others did not but soon it became a terrible fact that they were not falling as much as we were shooting. Now several of us quickly thought this was a raw deal, or "not cricket" as the Brits say. And our response was to be being hurling rocks into them screaming "GRENADE!" and then hitting them as hard as possible in the face or stomach thanks to the baseball fans we had. Soon they began to fall, some had to be hit twice before they decided to lay down and die. Now a British rifle is a fine tool, but bolt actions are slow and they want you to aim every shot and then you only fire every couple of seconds as a result. This is unacceptably slow in combat you will learn, so slow that the Germans walk several paces forwards between shots. Someone in our unit came upon an idea; and he yelled "FRITZ, HEAD SHOT.... JERRY LEG SHOT, YES YOU ! I"M LOOKING RIGHT AT YA!"

Between shots we began shooting men in pairs calling out who and where while someone else stoned them to death. Sooner or later of the dozens who'd been crossing there was a group nearly at our little trenches and the order was heard all around us ( for we were not alone on the field, there were other units too) and someone yelled "FIX BAYONETS!" But being American's some of us did not see that this was a prudent plan, so we kept shooting just before the German's first group reached us someone hurled his trench shovel over the pit and hit a man in the knee. He dropped with genuine pain howling loudly his buddies were getting a similar treatment for their marching on us. Someone jumped out of the trench and a couple of guys followed despite orders to remain inside while they began to charge forwards, you are supposed to hold fast and then lunge with the knives on your guns. The would be German charged towards us with a terrible yell the idea to put up our guns and stuff them into a man was not something I was keen on so I backed up. Number two was there with me and as the man plunged into the pit with us gun and knife ready we bailed into opposing directions. His wood knife broke off into the ground and that's when we hit him, both of us over the back and the knees. It was a terrible thing to do to a man and he was hit harder than we'd planned but our blood was up and there's nothing to do after that. Now there were too many men for us to fight off in a few moments they were upon us so we bailed out. The screams from other trenches about cowardice was roaring but we didn't care, survival was all that mattered. They jumped in as we got out, and finding it rather surprising (Victory was German's standing in your trenches and none of you standing in them) But they turned after the British men who remained and traded slashes or blows with the practice guns. Moments later   Number Two did something they didn't expect, He threw his backpack into a man trying to hit us. There is a lot of weight in one of those things and you don't take a hit in the face lightly.

After that we threw out rifles into the next closest men hitting them in the ribs, it was just a simple thing to jump back in again. Behind them were more men and we hit every single one until they submitted. Then we began hurling more objects at them while taking a German Rifle and pretending to shoot more people, drop the gun and then pick up another one. Somewhere along the way they got to us and the fighting began in earnest. Now we are not soldiers, it doesn't matter what they tell you. When a man looks like he's going to kill you and you've never killed someone else you are not yet a soldier you're a terrified boy and you want out right now... There is no out, there's live or die and we were doing everything not to die. I started yelling and slashing with the knife on a German gun, they say hit him with the tip and go for the guts but that's really hard to do. If you lean back he leans forwards and the guy next to you reaches out and grabs the end of his gun then rips him into the pit. Men break ranks at the end, some are faster or more eager and they reach you first. Single them out, attack him in pairs or groups and be complete in your attack. He fell into the pit and two of us hit him so hard he cried like a child. His buddies were running up now to take us out when a huge Texas boy and a crazy Irishman saddled up along side us. Number two takes the nine pound rifle and throws it like a spear, sailing into the middle of some poor bastard who collapsed into a heap, three remaining Germans come running. The Texas boy takes the gun and swings like a practiced batter only to let go as it circled round and round into the air the first man jumped an the third man caught it in the legs without a hope of recovery he slammed into the sandbags. The last man screams and jumps into the trench we were standing in. The Irishman served him with an underhand stroke the broke the wooden rifle before sending him backwards against the wall. Texas and Number two hit him each with savage strikes of their remaining weapons several times just to make sure he was down. The rest of our trench was a mess, men everywhere clashing or crying out. And soon we started hurling rifles into the German clusters right over their heads and defenseless they were soon too badly injured to actually fight. The tactic of tossing a "Grenade" into a group of them was less effective than out on open ground. But it seems the Irishman and the boy they called Texas could rip a ten foot length of board off the wall of our trench and demolish any German hope of attack very fast.

At the end of the action it was learned we had lost half our men outright, several more were being regarded as cheaters for various actions taken up. And all of us were questioned extensively on the use of grenades which did not exist as well as how we fired rifles without reloading them. The matter of assault vs counter assault was a wild and deeply personal issue where charges were brought up for excessive force against our opponents or the illegal use of materials. But as it was very hard for anyone injured to say who had hit them when or how often the matter was largely washed out save for the incident where some of the men had broken ranks and charged into the field. It seems they had "killed" a number of Germans by shooting them in the back in the charge. But as no one died because they couldn't see who had shot them the German's kept moving along. So a tactic was developed there and then to run up behind the Germans and simply stab them in the back, each and every man say two dozen was beaten to the ground while marching stead fast into a certain win against our section of trenches. There was the matter of letting the German's take our trench, and though they did not hold it they had gained entry to it. Which was regarded as a failure. However none of them survived long enough to raise the flag and make it an official win. There was the other matter than none of the actors were in a condition to walk away either, also the matter that we had systematically destroyed all of their painstakingly produced guns, knives and helmets as well as tearing or smashing a good many other articles.

After that our training was effectively over. There was little else to learn, some machine guns and other tools for war. Radios, phones and such were only briefly covered with constant mentioning the need to never let one fall into German hands.

And then we got a last weekend before being shipped over to the twenty or so miles to France, it seems a little thing twenty miles but the English were very careful about troop movements. Germans were everywhere and their much feared submarines were said to haunt the coasts day and night. We took in a few shows the boys and I with our British squad mates, some pints of beer the horrors of which I've already detailed before. I sent off a pair of letters, one back home with my marching orders and expected army mailing address and then we picked up our mail.

What had arrived was everything a man needed to go to war, care of the Sears and Roebuck company's outstanding selection of outdoor supplies. The items delivered to each of us had been carefully selected by the group's experts and we paid them back in cash. Now I knew little about the facts of life and death when it came to war but when we were finished with the English army's training every American in the group had decided that they wanted an American gun in their hands when the shooting started. Each man of us was ordered a rifle, a shot gun and atleast one pistol. None of this would be regulation mind you however it was allowed by commanders who had a long tradition of self equipping as well. Our ammunition was likewise supplied and nearly a week's worth of clothes. There was a heavy sleeping bag filled with feathers for winter and a good many other things. The total load was so great we could barely stagger around with it, and of course we were required to carry the issued equipment when in uniform.

When we boarded the ship for France we could actually see the cliffs of France waiting for us, though our time in France is a story for another day.