For once I was lucky, or so I thought: the late afternoon’s outdoor training had been cancelled. My group was due for its “initial evaluation”, whatever that meant. It couldn’t be nearly as painful, degrading and generally mind-searingly mistreating as pulling a sulky plus whip-happy driver through the woods (the term “outdoor” always referred to activities outside the camp’s perimeter).
When we gathered in front of our barrack, I already saw myself under bridle again. Then Miss Cuntling made one of her upbeat announcements.
“We make a trip to the main building, where you’ll be undergoing your initial evaluation. It’s a standard procedure, and I want to see spotless behaviour.” Continue reading