Zara Murphy

I watched him sit on the plastic-covered chair opposite me. His frame was sturdy, and his demeanor was calm. He wore a blue button-down over a white t-shirt, and jeans. His attire suggested he was a traditionalist, a simple man. He was also a recruiter.
“It’s not for the faint-hearted,” he said. “But you’re not faint-hearted, are you?”
I shook my head and returned his gaze. He flipped open a file and scanned it briefly.
“You’ve just finished your A-Levels and applied to medical school. You’ll start in September, so you have some time before you need to think about work. Is that right?”
“Yes,” I replied. “But I’m not sure I want to go to medical school anymore.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
I paused before continuing. “I’ve been thinking about joining the armed forces. I’m not sure which branch yet, but I’m very interested.”
“I see.” He closed the file and leaned forward in his chair. “You realize it’s a very different lifestyle from being a doctor?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve been doing a lot of research.”
“We can offer you a lot of things the NHS can’t.”
“I’m sure,” I said. “But it would be nice to make a difference.”
“You could make a difference here.”
“I’m sure I could,” I said. “But it’s not what I’m looking for.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”
“I think so,” I said. “I’m prepared to work hard.”
“You’ll need to be more than prepared to work hard,” he said. “You’ll need to be prepared to sacrifice everything. You’ll be part of the team, but you’ll also be on your own. You’ll be pushed to your limits, and you’ll have to dig deep to find the strength to carry on. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m sure.”
He smiled. “Good,” he said. “I think you’ve got what it takes.”
I stood up. “Thank you for your time,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he said.
I turned and walked out of the office. I knew I was making the right decision. I was ready for a challenge. I was ready to make a difference. I was ready to join the armed forces.