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Amelia Hutton (W) reflects on her experience of running the Field Gun and how she discovered a ‘treasure trove of teamwork and kindness.’
In being asked to describe the best time I have had at Wellington, I can honestly tell you my mind came to a blank. This first year at this prestigious, beautiful and quirky school has been a whirlwind, with the relativity of time becoming more apparent than ever before in my life. It seems that in mere hours I have gone from a girl overflowing with nerves, containing a stomach less filled with butterflies than angry wasps, to a young woman who could honestly tell you that she has a happy life and a stomach filled solely with the good food this school provides!
In delving into the cloudy corridors of my memories, the doors that lead to memorable incidents and significant events are all opened at my will. However, it is not a lack of these portals that is making this article more difficult than anticipated, it is the sheer number. In my (admittedly short) time at Wellington, every week has been filled with curious and creative opportunities to foster the mind, body and soul. Getting into a routine, I have found, is simply impossible in this school. There is always something to get involved with, something new to try, or even someone interesting to meet. Many a Wellingtonian walks past me that I have never seen before, as if new and improving models are produced every day.
A truly tantalising taste of the unique opportunities that lie in this red-bricked school comes, for me, in the form of the Navy tradition (dubbed the ‘toughest sport in the world’) that is Field Gun. The tough, macho and sometimes even terrifying runs that are completed by the crew on a periodical basis may seem like a strange choice for one of the shortest girls in the school to try, however in taking the leap of faith and going along to the first ‘induction’, I have unearthed a treasure trove of teamwork, kindness and, if I may say so myself, top notch banter that I hope to remain a part of for years to come. Even though I have often come home with spectacular bruising on one shoulder and at least a few plasters on legs, arms or even face, the sheer adrenaline and pride in a job well done makes all the minor (and rarely, major) injuries worth it. I can recall multiple times when I have found myself doubled over in stitches in reaction to some of the crazy antics that present themselves in the crew, the most recent example comes in the form of a certain not-so-flying angel who had the luck to be rescued by a certain knight-in-not-so-shining-armour in a very dramatic and daring stunt that involved a bridal-style carry and an upside-down traveller. Yet, when it comes to it, the nature of Field Gun is a serious one that requires focus, razor sharp wit and a bucketful of teamwork. The crew that I have had the pleasure of working, and playing, with has all this and more. The gratification and pleasure that I get from doing a Field Gun run is unlike anything that I have felt before so far in my life and something that I cannot quite describe nor do justice to with these words of mine.
I have been asked if I feel separate from the crew, me obviously being a short girl in what is a significantly tall male dominated sport. And I tell those who ask, ‘No, I don’t.’ This is because, believe it or not, we are all walking towards the same objective and we all encounter the same, if not similar, obstacles. The only separation I would feel in the crew is if we were asked to line up in height order. I hope that day never comes, for the sake of my pride!
Indeed, Field Gun is physically demanding and requires a lot of dedication, yet I maintain that the feeling generated from doing it is something that is unique and quite extraordinary. And anyway, if I can do it, and even get a trophy doing it, anyone can.
By Amelia Hutton (W)
