The water level had just reached my bra strap.  It was dirty, freezing, and it was raining too.  Yet here I was, breast high in water because the raft we’d constructed wasn’t as secure as perhaps it could have been.  Well what do you expect when we only had four planks of wood, a bit of nylon and some large plastic bags?

            I didn’t want to come on this survival team-building weekend in the first place.  Let’s face it, it’s bad enough trying to survive all week with some of this lot in the office, let alone the weekend too.

            “Come on Jane, put your back into it,” shouted Nigel from the comfort of the riverbank.

            “My back is in it,” I replied, “ as well as my feet, legs, waist and hands.  It’s freezing in here, and the bottom of this river is a quagmire, I keep getting my feet stuck.”

            Sally’s hand thrust forward from the bank.

            “Here, grab this,” she said as I waded across to it.  Clambering out and resting on the bank, Sally put her coat around my shoulders to keep me warm.

            “Don’t worry about Nigel, we all know he’s a prat.”

            “It won’t stop him making jokes about this at work though, will it?  I didn’t want to come on this weekend anyway, I am only the receptionist.”

            “Jane, don’t put yourself down like that.  You’re an important part of the team.  You’re often the first point of contact our customers have with the company,” Sally reassured.

            “Don’t just sit there you two, go and warm yourself up,” instructed Nigel.  “Forage for some firewood, whilst we go and find some food for a slap up meal from Mother Nature.  The whole point of this weekend exercise is to achieve what we can with the resources available.”

            “If this is a team building exercise, how come he’s still barking all the orders?” I asked.

            “Never mind,” said Sally.  “At least we can get a break from him.”

            The trouble with hunting for firewood in the rain is that there isn’t any because it gets too wet.  We found a couple of large sticks to show willing, but I began to wish that the others didn’t find any food, so that we didn’t have to try and get the fire going.

            Returning to the campsite, I dashed into our tent and found some dry clothes.  I almost felt human again.  Clambering outside I could see Sally was definitely having difficulties in lighting the fire.

            “It’s just far too wet, none of this will catch,” she said.  “If we could just find something dry enough to get it started the heat may be enough to dry out some of these sticks.”

            “Leave it to me,” I said, thinking that this might be an opportunity to get my own back on Nigel.  As I drew the zip up on his tent I wondered whether we might find anything useful inside.  Everything was so neat and tidy.  Regimental even.  Resting by his sleeping bag was a huge Survival Handbook, with the pages marked for foraging for food.  Flicking through, there appeared to be advice on how to get a fire going with damp wood.  Next to his sleeping bag were other items of interest.  Opening one and seeing what it contained, helped me determine my revenge.

            Dashing out of the tent I threw the Survival Manual at Sally, who was sitting smoking a cigarette.

            “Here you are.  There’s something in here to get the fire going.”

            “Okay, but you sound as though you’re off somewhere.”

            “Me?  I’m just off to see what I can achieve,” and with my rucksack on my back, I trudged off up the field.

            It felt as though I’d walked for miles and had to stop to check my bearings and direction of travel.  The last thing I wanted was to lose my way back.  After about twenty minutes I encountered the outskirts of civilisation and felt much more at home.  Slipping into a pub, I couldn’t resist a quick Alco-pop. Sipping it gently, my troubles of the day soon dissipated into a comfortable haze.

            Looking at the clock shocked me into realising that I’d spent longer in here than I’d anticipated.  The others would be back by now.  I hurriedly paid for my purchases and started the long trek back to the campsite.

            The trek back didn’t seem anywhere near as long as the walk there, and as I approached I could see that Sally had succeeded in getting a good fire going.

            “Oh there you are!” greeted Sally.  “When you said you were off somewhere I didn’t think you’d be that long!”

            “Good fire you’ve got there,” I praised.

            “Waste of time though.”

            “Why’s that?”

            “Well all the food this lot ended up foraging for was a bunch of nettles.  We’re all starving.”

            “Nice of you to join us again,” Nigel said sarcastically.  “This is a team-building exercise, yet you seem intent on doing things on your own.”

            Setting my rucksack down, I opened the lid and put my hands inside.

            “Well it’s a good job I got these then,” I said pulling out foil wrapped parcels.  “I’ve got Fish and Chips, Burger and Chips, and Pie and Chips.”

            Everyone cheered except Nigel who scowled deeply at me.

            “I wanted us to join forces this weekend and see what we could achieve with the resources we found just lying around us.”

            “Oh don’t worry Nigel, I did.  Whilst foraging for some firewood, I went into your tent and came across your wallet and a map.  How else did you think I managed to navigate my way into town to buy this food?”

            Nigel dashed into his tent, and then reappeared a few moments later.

            “Where’s my Survival Handbook?  What have you done with that?”

            At that point we all looked at Sally, sitting next to a rip-roaring fire.