We set off to Langoru, trucks taking up to our drop point. I had some idea of what we were about to trek across studying the map. Ever since the expedition of 82, when we left our shores seeking war treasure and family heirlooms for the Smidmore National Trust, I became thorough and studious in my analysis of terrain.

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The Smidmore Map, childlike in its simplicity – documenting the precise location of a big tree, a river and an X. Like great art, it captured the imagination.

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This map didn't. The Survey Corps had forgotten to print 4 grid squares, right in the middle of our trek. With the Legend stating grid squares covered in cloud 99.9% of the time. Now, I'm not trying to throw shade on another Corps. But they had one job. And if the Infantry motto was - To seek out and close with the enemy, to kill or capture them, by day or night, regardless of season weather or terrain. I'm not sure what the Survey Corps motto was - We'll do this if it’s sunny, we're well fed, and our Allowances have been paid.

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Who knows?

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The night before, the company slept. But I am awake. The same excitement I felt the first time we heard we were going to Tully. The excitement of the naive. Hour after hour until dusk til dawn, pouring over every square kilometre, considering section formations. Single file here, single file here, single file, hmmm a track - 2 files, and single file again onto the truck. There was never enough time for battle preparation the night before a patrol.

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So, my research and analysis say this will be interesting. The spurs are long steep and sharp. The drops significant. Comms will be challenging, though my section doesn’t carry a radio so that is mostly irrelevant. Unless we lose the Boss and Sarge. And it’s on my Section Commanders Aide Memoire patrol checklist, so it was important. And now the trucks have stopped. And like many before me I saw the terrain with boots on the ground. And my boots were scared.

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Now we have set off as a company and my overnight analysis has proven effective. We start out in a single file, as I'd visualised. We trek for a few hours and realise the Battle School marketing department need to spend some time in the highlands.

Little Heartbreak - seriously overrated. Big Heartbreak - overrated. Imagine Mt Stuart, but steeper and twice as long. And the humidity is overwhelming. We get to a local clearing used as a nursery for bananas and pineapples. They obviously lived on pizzas during monsoon season.

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The company is resting, it’s non tac. Just basically a march in the clouds. Dougal and CHQ collapsed next to our platoon. I'm checking the spur line from a couple angles to identify a prominent feature. A couple times in my career when you went into valleys, or followed spurlines a resection was dependent on one feature.

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In 85, coming back from Sub 1 SGT, and joining the company and we leave the Firm Base and head down a valley to follow an escarpment. Only one prominent feature. Same in 87 with Simon Crafter and O'D. The terrain was indistinct except for one landmark. But if you didn't lock it in when we entered the valley, it was not clear once you got 3, 6, 9k from it and it became a faint feature on the horizon.

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This was one of those days. Only one feature that was useful. And a back bearing gave a reasonable start point.

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Dougal, the MFC and CSM are debating our position. After checking I'm OK with my position, they ask me – CPL Wyatt where are we? I defend my case and realise they do not see it.  Today it doesn't matter. We are just following a spur line then a range then another spur line. We load up and recommence our trek after scoffing the final meal pack from Moem, Spam 3 ways.

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It’s time to say goodbye to the other platoons and CHQ. It’s a touching moment.

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Bye Rebels. Bye fuckwits.

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Bye Dogs. Bye scrotes.

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Love you guys.

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Bye CHQ. Not so sure if we love you guys but hey.

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Through the Lost World ... Part 2