This is What You Get is the story of a group of young men who enlist in the army in the 1980s as their only escape from Thatcher’s Britain. We follow them on tours of Germany and the first Gulf War, and explore themes of duty, loyalty, betrayal and shifting morals. We hope you enjoy this extract.

This is What You Get
By Iain McLachlain
Published by Rymour Books

Ye had tae learn tae anticipate fit wis expected o ye. Some boys were ready for it straight awa. Livin in poverty, bein brought up by strict parents or haein tae work fae a young age helped ye. Maist o the boys that were recruited in the eighties grew up in Thatcher’s wasteland so they were nae strangers tae hardship or lack o opportunity.  

If ye could get along an keep yer mooth shut an manage tae bide oot the line o fire ye could remain unnoticed. If yer were slow tae adjust tae yer new life ye were noticed for the wrong reasons an ye’d get punished. Some boys thought they knew the script, but it wisna initiative they were lookin for, they were lookin for obedience. They did look for leadership qualities though, but jumpin the gun got ye noticed for the wrong reasons an aa. Some boys could tread the line in atween. Some boys were born leaders.  

Get up, the duty recruit clicked the switch an the strip light buzzed an pinged intae life.  

Zander draped his towel ower his shooder an headed for the ablutions. He put his stuff on the shelf abeen the sink an looked intae the mirror. Tae his left Sharpe applied shavin foam tae his face. Zander looked inside his bag at his shavin brush an shavin soap. The brush, wi its smooth widden handle, had been left ahin by his faither. He looked in the mirror at Sharpe an Sharpe dragged his razor along the line o his jaw. Along the line o sinks, aa the ither recruits were usin shavin foam.  

Zander brushed his teeth an filled the sink wi warm water an began tae wash, conscious o the boys aroon im. He patted his face wi his towel an began tae put his stuff back in the bag.  

Are ye no shavin? Sharpe waved his razor.  

Zander shook his heed. 

Ye huv tae shave evry day if ye need tae or no, but, Sharpe’s voice echoed off the ablution waas.  

Zander put his bag back on the shelf an filled the sink again. He took his time an hoped that maist o the boys widve gone afore he got his shavin brush oot. He took oot his brush an soap an dipped the brush in the sink an swirled it aboot a bit.  

Check im oot wi iz ancient shavin brush, man, Sharpe wis in the mirror abeen Zander’s shooder. Boys turned tae look.  

Zander rubbed the brush aroon the soap.  

Is it yer granda’s, een o the boys elbowed Sharpe.  

Naw, it’s his granny’s, Sharpe elbowed the boy back.  

Ye done wi this sink, Miller shoodered Sharpe tae een side.  

Settle, man, Sharpe stood aside.  

Miller took Sharpe’s wash bag off the shelf an pushed it intae his chest an placed his ain bag on the shelf. He took oot his stuff, extractin it slowly. Toothbrush, toothpaste. Shavin stick an brush. Aul single blade razor.  

He nodded at Zander’s brush.  

Is that horsehair?  

Zander telt im he wisna sure.  

Ye get a much better lather wi a shavin brush, eh?  

Zander nodded.  

The boys went back tae their ain sinks an oot o the corner o his eye Zander watched Miller an mirrored the actions o Miller shavin. Carefully, deliberately, like it wis a ritual. 

Corporal Munro marched them tae the clothin stores an he telt the boy at the front tae lead in an the recruits started anither process that wid flush mair o the civilian oot o them. They’d had their civvies locked awa, the hair clipped fae their heeds an the freedom tae walk an talk as they liked had been greatly diminished. In the stores they wid be issued wi the uniform an equipment that wid further transform them intae soldiers.  

Zander edged forward an craned his neck tae try an see inside the storeroom. He could see boots that dangled fae kitbags an at the far side o the buildin a Tam O’Shanter sat on the top o a boy’s bag. Zander wis eager tae pull on his ain TOS an tae go fae bein naebdy tae bein a soldier an tae look smart an feel proud. Tae be like his faither.  

Then he wis in through the door an immersed in the storeroom an the storeroom wis heavy wi the smell o a century an mair o leather an canvas an the trappins o conflicts an world wars. The kit stored here had absorbed the men who had come afore. Their sweat, through fear an labour alike. Their blood an tears were ingrained intae the kit an the soil an mud an rivers that they had crawled an fought through were ingrained intae the kit. Aa this had soaked intae the brick an timber o the storeroom an swirled aroon the recruits an seeped intae their skin so that they were not only bein issued wi a uniform, but they were also bein infused wi the spirits o aa those who’d gone afore. Aa those who’d been equipped in this buildin an had been sent awa tae break their kit in. Tae be torn, cut an chaffed by it. Tae clean it, an press it, an polish it. Tae lose it an tae beg borrow an steal it. Tae be kept warm an dry by it an tae be protected an saved by it. Tae die in it.  

This is What You Get by Iain McLachlain is published by Rymour Books, priced £11.99.