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Forgive me for feeling a little smug today, but having spent the past few weeks media training the British Army, I think I deserve to enjoy the warm, fuzzy glow that resulted from being embedded during a particularly strenuous exercise. Put all thoughts of flip-chart and studio lights to one side, because the media training I undertake with Her Majesty’s finest involves getting down and dirty in the wilds of the English countryside. Imagine the scene: around 100 men are up to their waists in mud, have “come under attack” from “insurgents” hiding in the nearby forest, and are fighting their way to a compound they must take from the “enemy”. Their embedded TV reporter and her cameraman are concentrating on filming the material they need, and sticking a microphone and camera lens in the faces of several young soldiers plus their Commanding Officer while they endeavour to fulfil their mission. Ahead, an angry looking river, swollen by the previous night’s storm, which the men must jump into and walk along without being dragged under by the strong current. Their embedded journalist, hair newly washed and clothes freshly laundered, sees a bridge on which she will alight in order to remain fragrant. But her path is blocked. Ahead, a Royal Marine Commando of mammoth proportions who indicates that the only way forward is through the water. Horrified, the journalist twists and turns, hoping the man mountain will relent and let her pass. Seconds tick by as they stand eye to eye, each assessing the other’s will to get their own way. But finally, with defeated acknowledgement and a flick of her blonde hair, the woman reporter slips into the water and, up to her ribs in weeds, lunges after her uniformed companions who’re making light of the hostile terrain. So, the next time you envisage what it’s like to deliver media training, draw into that image a large portion of mangled earth, a torrent of water, and the squelching of soggy boots and clothing!
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