"What have I got to lose?"

I signed up with these words rolling around in my head and held them close for a few weeks as i ran movies about what I'd be doing on the "New Warrior Training Adventure", as they called it. As the day drew nearer it dawned on me that I'd actually signed up for something that I really knew nothing about.

I had no idea about what was going to happen, or what I would be asked to do. And yet somehow, my friend Shawn had got me to sign up for 48 hours of what, exactly? How had he managed that? Would i have to run over flaming red hot coals? Tell the shameful sins of youth that I'd never confessed to the alcoholic parish priest? How real did I really have to be?

By the time i turned into the driveway of the old YMCA campsite at six on a Friday evening i was running fear. Big time.

There was a solid bloke standing beside the front gate. He was wearing a dark oilskin coat and a battered, moth-eaten Akubra that looked like he might have borrowed it from scarecrow. He had black heairy legs and wore black rubber thongs on his feet. I couldn't see his eyes under his hat brim but in the fading light i saw that his cheeks were stubbled by a three-day beard growth. As I turned into the driveway he gave me a glance and scribbled on a battered clipboard.

Now my heart was pounding. "G'day," I ventured in a friendly tone as I wound my window down. He made no sign that he heard me, and since he stayed standing erect my words were addressed to the three big buttons that fastened his brown oilskin coat.

I felt ridiculous. "What kind of a greeting is this?" i said to myself. More silence followed. I looked straight ahead and smiled stupidly at the buttons on the bloke's big midriff. This was definitely my first meet and greet with a human stomach.