'Dixie are you really okay with this?'

'Yeah- if it's what you want then sure.'

'Really?'

'Look Ian. I know things have been odd between us recently but-'

'This isn't about you. It's about me.'

'Let me finish. I know thins have been odd but I do care about you. We all do here. So if you're going to join back up, take care of yourself. Okay? I'm not losing anyone else.'

'Dix- the gesture and concern is nice and all but it's no longer a question of if I'm going back in. It's a question of when. I applied months ago, slowly going through all the applications but I've just heard back. They want more medics. They need me there.'

'What about us here? We'll miss you- you know.'

'I'm only going to the army camp the other side of Holby. I'm not disappearing.'

'But what about-'

'Sorry Dixie. My mind is made up. Today was my last shift.'

'Right. Yeah.'

'Bye Dix.'

'Bye Ian.'

Ian changed out of his ambulance uniform for the last time and changed into his military issue MTP [Multi Terrain Pattern] before grabbing his burgeon and leaving his flat, locking the door for the last time for another three months.

'Sargent Dean. Nice to have you back with us.'

'Thank you ma'am. Pleasure to return.'

'You're in the same accommodation block you were in before. A single room on the third floor this time though. Here are your keys and door codes. The training plan is on your notice board.'

'Thank you ma'am.'

The soldiers saluted one another before Ian marched towards his room. It was just like he remembered. Crisp blue and white sheets coated the single bed that was snuggled into the corner. The carpet was the same familiar speckled white, the curtains were the same midnight blue. The single chair that was pushed under the desk was identical to every other chair. The changes were in the bathroom. The walls were all painted white, the towels were white and the tiles were all white except for the border of blues that ran around the room. The simplicity, repetition and precision brought an unusual sense of calm over his mind. He truly was where he belonged. He made his way back into the room and checked his watch 10:30pm. He then checked the training timetable for the following morning:

0500 physical training

0700 breakfast

0800 drill

1100 individual speciality training

1300 lunch

1400 individual speciality training exercises

1700 individual assessments

1900 physical training

2000 dinner

2100 field craft

It was going to be a very long day.

The alarm blared at 4:15. Ian rolled over and hit snooze. The alarm blared at 4:20. Ian rolled over and hit snooze. The alarm blared at 4:25. Ian rolled over and hit snooze. The alarm blared at 4:30. Ian hit the alarm off and sat up, he then checked the time and swore loudly. It was a good job he had ironed all his uniform before he fell asleep. He grabbed his combat trousers, his boots and his green undershirt. Checking that his boots were clean and polished he made his way down to the exercise yard at the front of his accommodation block. 4:55 he had made it with 5 minutes to spare. It looked like everyone had made it before 5am, which was good news for everyone because there would be no punishment for now. The physical training started with a 5 mile run around the perimeter of the base, before moving onto press-ups, sit-ups, burpies and star-jumps before another run around the perimeter and three assault courses. The soldiers were all sent back to their accommodation to get cleaned up for breakfast. Ian was already shattered. He was one of 50 soldiers who were going through their recruitment process. This particular session of training was exclusively for those who had already been in the forces and had left due to a variety of reasons but were now looking to join back up. There were 20 men and 30 women on the training- all of whom were from backgrounds in medicine.

Ian took a quick shower to get the sweat out of his hair and the mud off his arms. Following the shower he sorted out his uniform, again cleaning the boots before putting them on with his full MTP and making his way down to breakfast. He still had thirty minutes to eat before he needed to be back out on the exercise yard to do three hours of drill. Time flew by but it didn't leave him feeling any less exhausted. Individual speciality training was the only part that he felt like he could relax. He was partnered with Sargent Wheeler, another paramedic who now worked with the army. Sargent Wheeler. She was fantastic. Smart. Funny. Talented. Calm. Just brilliant.

After lunch it was the speciality training exercises. Ian's specialised exercise was a rescue.

'Your training exercise is treatment and extraction from difficult places. Today you will be rescuing and treating Bob, our dummy, he has been caving and has got into difficulties. First you will have to locate your casualty before treating him and safely extracting him to waiting land crews. You will be working as a pair. Sargent Wheeler and Sargent Dean you are going today. The rest of you should continue with your training above ground level.'

'Yes sir!'

Ian and Jess, Sargent Wheeler, grabbed their harnesses and began to belay themselves and their equipment down into the cave. Ian began analysing the surfaces around him- mostly jagged rocks with long drops onto even more jagged rocks. This wasn't going to be easy. They found Bob- a dummy with electronic parts that said he had a broken arm, two broken legs, a fractured pelvis, a head injury and a spinal injury. Bob was treated and attached to the spinal board with splints on his legs. All that was left to do was to belay his back up to the crews on the surface. Jess went up first and helped Ian to belay Bob up before she pulled him up and over the lip of the cave to give to the other crews. She shouted to Ian that he should start making his own way up from the cave, a task made increasingly difficult by the rain which was beginning to lightly fall. Ian made it just over half way up the side of the cave when the rope snagged on something. He tried desperately to loosen it but it was no use he was stuck. He continued to wriggle side to side to get his rope off the lump of jagged rock that it had caught on but it didn't seem to be doing anything. Then he was falling. The rope was falling along side him, the frayed end by his face. When he had squirmed and moved he hadn't been loosening himself at all- he had been slowly cutting the thing that kept him safe. He tried to frantically to grab at the walls but it was no use- he was falling too fast and the walls were too slippy from the rain. He was falling. Then impact. Then black.