A/N:

Hello Fanwoman, sorry, I had to do this! Hope you enjoy, you may get more chances to give Carson big hugs ;-)

Thanks for all the brilliant reviews, I knew it was a good idea to start posting, you guys are really fuelling the end of the story – thanks! It's OK, Emma, I need the inspiration! Hello McRaider, I can't wait to post the final chapters I can tell you! Special thanks to everyone who has put me on Author Alert.

Remember, the 'ow in 'gowk' rhymes with 'now'!

NEMO - New Entry Medical Officer

Chapter 5

"Welcome, Doctor. It's a pleasure to have you as a NEMO." The silver-haired Commodore shook his hand. "Or should I say sub-lieutenant?" he smiled.

Carson had found the last few days a whirl. Saying cheerio to all the family, aunties, uncles, cousins, and a tearful farewell to his mum and dad. Stuart Hogg had seen him off in Glasgow. ("Keep your nose clean, you daft gowk.") It was a long train journey south before he found himself on the busy Devon coast.

The Naval College looked down over the bay, and Carson felt vaguely at home, only the wind was warm, and the sky seemed bluer. He had barely time to look at the sky with the incredible intense rush of the first day; he thought his head was going to explode with all the information he had absorbed about the term ahead. Going back to 'school' was a bit of a shock, but as the new recruits met the College Commodore over dinner, Carson realised he had enjoyed the day.

Looking around he watched the faces of the people he had met for the first time today. A dozen men and two women from all over the UK who were already qualified doctors. They were eager, excited, and all a little shell-shocked. Seven weeks of fascinating training, some physical, mostly academic, stretched ahead. He knew he was going to like this.

0o0o0

Carson lifted his head out of the mud. The cold had penetrated his bones, and the rain had plastered his thick black hair to his scalp. He opened his mouth wide to gasp for oxygen, and the thin mud was oozing over his lips.

"Get a bloody move on, you pathetic worm!"

It felt like the Marine officer was hollering directly into his ear, but Carson could see him from the corner of his eye, standing a few feet ahead, looking down at him. Suddenly he felt a hand under his armpit, and he managed to struggle to his feet. The hand encouraged him to begin jogging again. Carson searched for the face of his helper.

"Thanks." It was all he could muster under the circumstances.

His fellow trainee officer smiled through the constant drizzle. "You're welcome, Carson."

Mark Foster was of similar build to Carson, but had a penchant for sport and was therefore much better suited to the rigorous exercises during the basic training. A mild-mannered Yorkshire man, he and Carson had gravitated together in the past few weeks, since the other recruits were all from the southern half of Britain.

"I'm dying, Mark." Carson managed to splutter, before they had gone another kilometre.

"Just a little farther, Carson. And get a move on, lad, they're timing us this week." Mark gave Carson an encouraging hand on the back, and somehow they made it to the rendezvous point.

As they sipped at the hot sweet tea that was waiting for them, rain was falling hard on their heads. They were standing behind the support vehicle, to wait for the latecomers.

Carson was seriously wondering what he was doing here. Maybe he wasn't cut out for this life after all. Different, yes. Gruelling, understatement. Three recruits had already left, unable to take the long days and pace of the physical exertion. Carson loved the academic training. Emergency medicine, deep-sea principals, radiation theory, it was all absorbed eagerly. It was just, he wasn't really appreciating some of the other stuff. Swimming was OK, but the boats were a bit small for his liking so far. The runs were hard, but on reflection the survival exercises and making the bridges and so on had been quite good fun. It wasn't half so cold as home, either. He actually liked polishing his boots. As he tipped his mug to drain the contents into his throat, Carson decided he was going to make it through, and be a naval doctor, of some description.

Seven weeks later…

Mark Foster came through the door with a large grin on his face. He waved the paper at Carson. "I got Commando! I'm going to Lympstone!"

Carson knew that Mark had wanted just that for his post-training appointment. Mark had the physique and the stamina needed to be a commando, and most importantly the inclination. It was the toughest medical appointment Carson could imagine, and he silently thanked his lucky stars that they hadn't given the same to him, as a cruel joke. The last thing he could ever see himself doing was being a field medic.

Carson gave his friend a thump on the shoulder. "Well done, pal. You deserve it. I'll tell you something though, I'm going to miss you." He held Mark's gaze for a moment. The team works. Carson had found that to be true in the past couple of months.

"Get away, you softie. You'll be too busy at the Institute to bother about me. You've got the brains all right."

Carson's appointment for the next three years was going to be at the Institute of Naval Medicine, still on the southern coast of the UK. He couldn't wait to get started, and was secretly grateful that he hadn't actually been assigned to a submarine, even if he would have been based close to home.

Right now, there were parties to be arranged. It would soon be Christmas, when the recruits all got to go home, and spend time with families, before embarking upon the reality of their new careers.

0o0o0

"You've made us very proud, Carson. Well done." Magnus Beckett raised his glass in a toast to his son.

"Yes, well done, my wee man." Mary Beckett smiled at her son, and patted his back as she brought the last of the food to the table. She then sat down, only to stand up again to remove her apron.

Carson exchanged amused looks with his father. "Just get sat down, Mum, the turkey will be cold."

Soon the Christmas dinner was well under way. His parents were making the most of this time with him, Carson realised. It had been hard on all three of them, during his training, his absence from home. But he'd found something in the Navy that had been sadly lacking in the city. He had found purpose, camaraderie, satisfaction. He was glad he had left, even though it hurt to think his parents missed him so much.

"It's a lot easier to get leave when you're at the Institute." Carson ventured. "Mark might not get home for four months or more. It's like that when you're a Commando."

"Maybe you could come home for Dad's 60th birthday?" his mum asked hopefully.

"I can certainly try." Carson smiled warmly.

His dad was embarrassed, but felt the glow inside as well as on his face.