On alighting from the aircraft a squad of maniacal Chiefs, Petty Officers and Leading Hands met us upon stepping on to the tarmac and they were nothing like the nice chaps in the Recruiting Office back home. They formed us up into squads amid the screaming of abuse, threats and curses, a push here, a shove there. Once fallen in and silent, names are called and checked off. These Recruit 'receptions' are universal and standard practice and has a purpose the civilian mind has trouble comprehending. It wasn't too bad for me being an ex-cadet but for the totally uninformed it must have been a bloody nightmare.
Trepidation is evident upon many faces more so than looks of funfilled excitement.
Most of these blokes have probably never been spoken to like that in their lives before. I know because I learnt some new words the minute I got off the plane. On arrival at Leeuwin we are driven to, where else, the Parade Ground. Parade Grounds are sacred places and this one is to become the hub of our lives for the next 12 months. We are then marched off to the dining hall and given a cup of 'Kai' or cocoa whilst pretending to pay attention to the myriad of verbal instructions being delivered by an orchestra of instructors and Divisional Staff.