Basic Training II Grounded: Basic Training, #2
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About this ebook
Just when you thought a story couldn't get any madder, and it's safe to go back into the library P T Saunders comes up with a second book in the series.
Basic Training II Grounded, picks up where the first book Basic Training Flying by The Seat of His Pants ended.
Having attempted to prove that A young Scallywag, Ben Baxter didn't have it in him to get into the Paras' Our fly decided to follow Ben throughout the grueling twenty-two-week training course. All was going well until some general swotted our fly just before the pass-off parade.
In this book, Our fly has been reincarnated into Sgt Maj Brynn Williams and the Sgt Major into a fly somewhat temporarily.
Unable to come to terms with his reincarnation our fly is sectioned under the mental health act. Where he meets a few, let's say interesting Characters, such as Cowboy Dave, Sue the boxer-short thief, and Spanish a typically gobby scouser.
Upon his release from the hospital, he decides to complete his mission of proving that Ben didn't have what it takes to be a Para. During that mission, he meets the Bus-Hag, Charlotte Charlotte, the woman with more with a little extra anatomy, and a couple of drunks he nick-names Bill and Ben.
Will he succeed in his mission? You'll have to buy the book.
Read more from P.T. Saunders
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Book preview
Basic Training II Grounded - P.T. Saunders
Index
Chapter One. Bright Light
Chapter Two. The M25 Carpark
Chapter Three. Simply The Best
Chapter Four. OMO
Chapter Five. Bad News
Chapter Six. A Not so Perfect Day
Chapter Seven. The Great Escape
Chapter Eight. Just Like Fisher
Chapter Nine. Revenge is Sweet
Chapter Ten. Robbed
Chapter Eleven. The Fisher’s New Neighbour’s
Chapter Twelve. Double Discharge
Chapter Thirteen. And Pamela Makes Four
Chapter Fourteen. New Home
Chapter Fifteen. Left Holding the Babies
Chapter Sixteen. You Only Live Next Door
Chapter Seventeen, You Must Have Known
Chapter Eighteen. Something Familiar
Chapter Nineteen Bloody Hell
Enjoy.
P T Saunders
Chapter One
Bright Light
A laser-like bright light smarted his eyes. Bright light, bright light. Ouch, that hurts. thought the outstretched figure lying on the hospital bed. Have I arrived in fly heaven, and closer to the sun, or is this fly hell, where I’m about to be tortured for an eternity? He thought as he tried to remember what had happened to him... Army? I was in the army...No I couldn’t have been, I’m a bloody fly. He searched deep into his memory... Then it came to him. I was following someone that was in the army. He corrected himself. Why was I following that someone, and who was it?
A few seconds later the light shining into his eyes was replaced by the image of a bespectacled human male dressed in a white coat. Staring into his eyes. This is definitely fly hell.
Confused and a little perturbed, at the human’s invasion of his personal space, and in fear of the dreaded human swot, the fly attempted to fly away. However, instead of taking flight, he found himself riveted to the spot and well and truly grounded. What happened to my wings, and what exactly is speccy-four-eyes staring at? He thought just before the human interrupted his thought process, by began to speak to him. Intensifying the fly’s confusion.
‘Good afternoon, Sgt Maj. That was a close call, we thought we had lost you a little earlier. Do you remember what happened to you?’ the bespectacled human asked nonchalantly, shining his pen torch into the fly’s eyes again.
Ouch... are you for fucking real, I mean talking to a fly and, referring to it as a Sgt Maj, maybe it’s just the weirdest dream of all, and I’ll wake up in a minute or two and you’ll be no longer?
‘Can you hear me?’ asked the weirdo with the torch.
In for a penny and all that.
‘Of course, I can bloody hear, you bloody crackpot. And can you please stop sodding around with that bloody torch’. The fly, to his surprise said out loud. I can bloody talk, this dream is getting weirder by the second?
‘I can assure you Sgt Major that I am not a crackpot. I am Captain Armstrong, a doctor in the Royal Army Medical Corps.’ The man in the white coat replied in a slightly agitated tone of voice, while glaring into the fly’s eyes, slightly perturbed by the Sgt Maj’s insolence.
It was at that point that the fly noticed his own reflection in the medic’s glasses.
Bollocks, I look and sound like a bloody human. And my wings have been replaced by a pair of heavily tattooed human arms. And to add further insult the right arm bore a tattoo of the Welsh flag. I hate the Welsh. They are far too good at swotting flies.
What the hell is going on? He thought for a few minutes whilst the doctor poked, prodded, and fondle various areas of his new anatomy... Then he recalled starring at a chest full of medals. Just before the lights went out. Probably swotted by the owner of the medals? Yes, that’s it some general had swotted him. It must have done some serious damage. Why was I starring at someone’s medals?... He racked his brains further.
That’s it, I was shadowing someone in the army. Who though, and why? B...Ben. Ben Baxter. A bone-idled little shit of an eighteen-year-old. I not believe he would make it past the training, and decided to follow him on his worthless adventure. He had done better that expected, and was about to pass off from the Para training. Being bored with waiting for the troop to get going, I went to check the Generals medals out and Bumph, Then, I wake up here. In this ludicrous Nightmare.
‘’Do you know... where... you are?’ asked the doctor, raising his voice slightly, and speaking as if he was talking to a pensioner on the edge of senility.
This dream just gets bloody weirder. ‘No...I...Don’t... know... where...I...am. You Fucking fruitcake.’
The Doctor, slightly shocked at the Sgt Maj’s use of expletives, stepped back rather sharply. He then looked over to the nurse. ‘I think we have a case of Delusional damnum identitatem it must be from the bang to the head when he hit the floor. Or it could as a result of the induced coma?’ the nurse looked back at the doctor confusedly? ‘Memory loss. I think we had better get Professor Bam-Bam to take a look at him. Nurse’, Delusional damnum identitatem, and who the bloody hell is Professor Bloody Bam-Bam? This nightmare is getting frigging weirder by the minute.
‘Who the hell is Professor Ban-Bam?’ asked the fly/Sgt Major.
‘He’s a renowned Professor of Psychology. The best in his field actually. He’s from the Congo you know.’ The nurse added excitedly, whilst looking at the Sgt Maj.
‘In your own time nurse.’ Said the Captain, nodding reproachfully in the direction of the door.
‘Err...Yes, right away Doctor.’ The young nurse semi-curtsied apologetically, before toddling off.
Nice Arse. Thought the fly as he watched her tight little but, toddle off.
‘Sgt Maj Brynn Williams, you suffered a massive heart attack, which also led to you having a stroke. You have also been in an induced coma for the past three weeks. The fly sits up and looks down the bed and inspects his new body. Legs, Arms. He looks under the covers. And cock. A large one too. Bloody hell, I really am human.
No, wait, I’m still bloody dreaming. None of this shit is for real, and if it is God, why the hell have you added insult to injury, by turning me into a bloody Welshman? Was the fly’s last thought before the doctor injected more chloral hydrate into his drip, sending the Sgt Maj back to the land of nod.
***
Ben closed his Readers Wives magazine and tucked his favourite white sock back under the mattress of his bed. He then stashed the magazine underneath the bottom drawer of his chest of drawers.
I won’t be seeing you for a while. He thought to himself as he replaced the drawer which, concealed his stash of porn mags.
That’s my last lay-in for a while too. He thought looking at the Micky Mouse clock. Micky’s hands informed him that it was twenty-past-ten. It hadn’t taken him long to fall into his old habits of Getting bladdered most nights and sleeping in until well beyond mid-day.
Not today though. Today his three-week post-pass off leave was