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Hi all,

I’ve had a dreadful 2 weeks in terms of losing 5 former army colleagues and friends. Two committed suicide, one died from cancer and another from a heart attack and most hurtful of all, one of life’s genuine good guys who was killed in an ambush in Afghanistan.

All the above were former or serving soldiers, all my friends (apart from blondes) are serving or ex military, it’s all I knew from the age of 17. I spent 23 great years as a member of Britain’s (and possibly the world’s) oldest Regiment – The Royal Scots (The Royal Regiment) sadly now disbanded a couple of years ago to become part of the newly formed Royal Regiment of Scotland.

These events coupled with the odd post I’ve seen on the forum have convinced me to start this thread. In effect it is some of my memories/memoirs if you like, of my time as a soldier.

I intend to cover a wide array of subjects concerning the Army. It is not my intention to impose my military beliefs on anyone but more to attempt to give you an insight into the mindset, not only of the soldier, but the families who support them and have to endure endless terms of fear and intrepidation when their son/daughter/brother/sister/father/mother etc are on operational duty.

Why me?

That’s an easy one.

I’ve been the soldier, my eldest son has been serving for the last 9 years. I have lost many soldier friends some whilst on operations and some not. My brother was killed on operations whilst we were serving together.

I have therefore felt the anguish as a comrade, a father and a sibling.

I will attempt to post daily until I feel I have nothing more to say, however what I'm about to post has taken a wee while to compose, look over, adjust and think, yeah that's about right. I apologise in advance to anyone who thinks it boring, to anyone who may take offence (it certainly is not my intention to do so) or who may disagree with anything I say. It will be scenarios I have seen or have had to deal with, it’s my thoughts on certain situations. Only my thoughts and I don’t expect everyone to agree.

I would welcome feedback and any questions anyone may have, I think some may be surprised at my answers

Yours Aye

Geo.

Sorry to hear about what you're going through Geo.  I'm sure we all are.  It's easy for most of us to ignore the true cost of war, we can just turn off the TV and pretend it isn't happening.

Whatever you say in the thread, it certainly won't be boring.  I'll certainly be reading it every day.

I think this will be a very popular diary Geo.  Just one question from me in advance if I may (and a bit of a selfish one before I decide how much I will read).  My ex-husband served in the gulf and in Bosnia and some of the stories he has told me still haunt me to this day.  Is this going to be an unsanitised diary of what happens in warzones, or will it be toned down a bit?

Probably the worst day of my life

17th March (St Patricks day)1993

I’ve begun with this story as it relates so much to recent events. Hopefully it also gives some sort of family perspective in regards to a loved one lost on operations. This was my families scenario and I have no doubt it is very similar to many.

This day started much as any other for a (then) Corporal serving in the border town of Crossmaglen. My Platoon were on internal security (guard duty) and for a 2 week period we manned the sangars within this camp at the edge of the notorious Crossmaglen Square.

It was just before breakfast, around 7am and I had just finished changing the sentries over. My task was to take each relieving soldier to there respective posts, check they had the necessary equipment, were dressed properly including flak jacket and helmet. Ensure they had sufficient camouflage cream on their faces (yes even in camp whilst on sentry duty.) I had to ensure that the soldier handing over the sangar had left it tidy and gave a full brief to the oncoming sentry of any activities during his previous 2 hour stint.

I then moved off for breakfast. I was pleasantly surprised as I entered the dining room and seen my younger brother sitting at a table having his breakfast. Lawrence was part of what we called the JSG group then, a platoon of  better than average soldiers who were based at Bessbrook Mill (then Europe’s busiest Heliport.) These guys had the hardest time of all during these 6 month tours of the province. Whilst they were based at Bessbrook, on any given day they could find themselves in Crossmaglen or Forkhill, two of  the scariest places in Northern Ireland. They could also find themselves in Armagh or even Belfast City depending on intelligence at the time.

They could find themselves in close observation situations, lying low in some woods for days and on occasions weeks “babysitting” some political figure for example, where intelligence hinted they were targeted for a probable attack. They could find themselves being flown to one of the many “Towers” the large outpost sangars usually situated at the top of a hill like Foxfield near Forkhill as a possible attack had been highlighted in the area and these guys would take over the sangar duties to utilise their exceptional terrorist identification skills to attempt to identify and record the movements of known “players” (known IRA activists.)

I collected my breakfast and took a seat beside him and we chatted. How’s the family (he had a German wife and a beautiful daughter who at that time would have been barely a year old), what you been up to sort of thing.

Whenever the JSG multiple (usually a group of three 6-8 man teams) visited your location you knew something was going on. Of course I asked him what was happening but all he would say was that the threat in the area had been escalated and they had been flown in overnight.

I finished my breakfast and went back to overseeing the security for the camp for that day. Lawrence and his group choppered out about 2 hours later, where they were going I knew not.

Fast forward to lunchtime and after ensuring the lunchtime changeover sentries had been fed and posted I made my way to the dining room for lunch. I was sitting at a table with a couple of friends when one of the operations room runners, a pal we called Budgie, entered and started to tape up the payphone, an immediate sign that something had gone down. Whenever an incident happened they would put the phones out of action. This was to prevent anyone phoning out and carelessly giving out info that should not yet be in the public domain. More importantly, it usually meant “man down”

Thanks Claire.

It's not a blood and guts thread and if anything it certainly won't be glorifying war, only the troops that we need to do it.

Geo

I approached the runner “hey Budgie, what’s happening mate?” The look on his face and the non-reply as he hurriedly turned away from me to return to the ops room told me all I needed to know. There had been an incident and my brother had been involved.

To approach the ops room during an incident when you are not involved is a no-no, even though I knew my brother was involved I knew I should not approach, it’s a discipline thing. I made my way to the Buzzard hut, this is what we called the small fortified hut at the edge of the helipad where all flights in and out of the base were controlled from it was called the Buzzard hut as the nickname used in radio speak for the flight controllers in the different locations was Buzzard. It was the second best place to be during an incident. All radio traffic had to come through there as there would be a lot of coming and going and the only way in and out was by Helicopter.

The sergeant in charge was a good buddy of mine, Brian McGeachie, we had joined up a month apart in 1978 and we were both Physical Training Instructors so knew each other well. “what’s happening Brian, any chance I can sit in and listen?” “yeah Dicky (my nickname then) but stay out the way in the corner, there’ll be a lot of troops coming in and out shortly, we’ve got a man down at Forkhill.”

“Any ideas who?” I asked. “no mate, it’s one of the JSG guys, they just flew out of here a couple of hours ago, looks like intelligence got it right this time”

Quite often “intelligence” would deem that a certain threat was high and would increase the alert state, rarely would we know what the increased threat was, mortar attack, shooting or car bomb was most common. Most of these escalations would come to nothing and the top nobs would pat themselves on the back that they had made the right decision and had averted an attack due to our alertness. I doubt whether that was really often the case.

I sat listening intently as all the commanders on the ground went about their business. It always amazed me that even in times like this with the adrenalin pumping, moving quickly if not running to the incident, the commanders never sounded flustered on the radio, always calm, hardly sounding out of breath, even though you know some of them have tabbed a km or so at speed to get there. The one thing I wanted to hear was the ZAP number of the casualty. I listened to the medics as they gave sitreps on the casualty and the pilot as he picked the casualty up and then as he spoke to Buzzard at Daisy Hill hospital.

I never did hear the ZAP number. Your ZAP number was the Initial letter of your last name and the last four digits of your Army number. If there was an incident and you were the casualty, your ZAP number and not your name was given across the radio and the ops room had a nominal roll of all ZAP numbers and could identify the individual involved. Budgie would have been privy to the individuals name and that is the reason that his reaction earlier had struck fear in me.

 Mine was D2754 surname Dickson regimental number 24472754. During roll calls we had a number of Dicksons so they would call out your surname and your last 2 – Mines was Dickson 54, because of this I love to play 54 if the bet is cheap enuff. Anyone who played Tighty’s Friday night sng at last years Dublin APAT knows the damage I done with the 54 in one particular hand.

thanks :)

Geo,

I truely believe our troops deserve the utmost respect and I for one could never willingly do what they are doing on a daily basis. A friend's brother was back on leave from Iraq recently and he had a ball, how he managed to go back I do not know. I regularly complain about my job but I get paid a lot more than the vast majority of our soldiers out there with significantly less risk or inconvenience, it kind of puts things in perspective when I watch reports from Iraq and Afghanistan and see soldiers dying who are still only boys in age. I hope this thread is a success. It would be good for the guys in active service to know so many support them even if some do not support the politics which sent them there.

Sorry to hear of your losses.
 

Then it came…………..”Dicky!! Dicky!! Has anyone seen Corporal Dickson?” I recognised the voice, it was my Platoon Commander, a Colour Sergeant, Mark McLeod, another friend of mine. This confirmed my innermost fears. I ran out of the hut. “Mark, it’s Lawrence isn’t it?”

“Dicky, you need to come to the ops room mate”……..”Tell me Mark, it’s Law isn’t it”………..”Yes mate, he’s been shot, they’ve flown him to Daisy Hill, not sure how bad mate.” At that we both wept and without another word said between us we made our way to the ops room. On reaching the ops room Mark says “need to leave pal, I can’t stay” and left. There I am, my brother’s been shot and I’m in a room amongst a load of “shiny bums” This is the term we used for operation room staff as the arses on their trousers would go shiny from the friction of moving back and forth on their chairs.

Some, not all, of these guys couldn’t really cut the mustard as front line soldiers and opted, in some people’s opinion for the easy life behind a desk. Radio ops (I won’t call them signallers even if they did take that title, in respect of Royal Signals Corps guys,) runners and the like. Some where actually musicians from the Regimental Band who doubled as medics and would take turns operating the radios and maps during incidents.

About 20 people in the room and I was the loneliest guy on the planet. I only knew Budgie who I spotted with his headphones stuck to his ear, staring intensely to the front and being too afraid to look up at me. Nothing more than respect, a fear of not having the right words to say or indeed saying the wrong words.

No-one said a word…………”what’s happening?” I asked, about three times without response. Then everyone’s gaze was suddenly fixed on a point behind me, it was the OC, Major Potter, a bit of a hardened Glaswegian and a great officer. Very unlike the normal Officer, from a rough background but got himself through school, college and university and had joined as an officer. His “rough round the edges” demeanour did not go down too well in the Officers Mess. I heard a story about when, as young officer his commander had compiled a glowing annual report on him that ended in one bit of criticism, in capitals……………..EATS CHIP BUTTIES IN THE MESS.

He was liked by most of the soldiers and had previously led us through the 1st Gulf war where he had won the Military Cross.

“Through here Dicky,” ………..rarely would the Major use your first or nickname in front of other troops, maybe on the sports field but rarely on duty. He led me into his bunk which was situated through a sliding door from the ops room. “ It’ not looking good I’m afraid” he said, never the greatest for diplomacy. “Your brother’s took one in the chest, missed the plate (Kevlar plate covering the heart area within the flak jacket) “I’m not going to give false hope, I’m just off the phone to the hospital and they say his chances are slim, do you want to make the call to the family or are you happy for the padre in Edinburgh to visit them?”

Predicament time for me, when I was working with our recruiting team a few years beforehand I had accompanied the padre to the home of the mother of one of our soldiers tragically killed in a negligent discharge accident. When we got there and she saw the padre she knew right away. She was there alone, no-one to comfort her and it was the most uncomfortable 5 minutes I’d spent until a neighbour appeared to comfort her.

I had not seen my mother or father for some 15 years, in fact the only other member of my family that I had seen on a regular basis was Lawrence once he had also joined the regiment. I didn’t have a great childhood and my mother and father where the major reason (another story sometime, maybe.) This was one of my reasons for joining the Army, to get away from them. However, I still wasn’t going to let my mother suffer the same scenario. Amazingly I had my wits about me and requested that I phone my Uncle Lawrence, a great man and always the backbone of the family. He was always the man to turn to in dilemmas. I hadn’t seen him for many years, however at the time he owned a caravan site at Little France in Edinburgh, which has since been bought over as compulsory purchase (bastard council) and is now the site of the new Royal Infirmary, so we rang directory enquiries and got the number.

This is where I surprised myself with my thinking in this situation, instead of ringing him straight away, I asked that we hold off until we heard a definitive outcome from the hospital, I didn’t want to phone to ask him to go be with my mother and break the news and have them hanging on to find out if he had died or not. I received the answer after a few short minutes. The Sergeant Major knocked and entered and broke the news that someone had called from the hospital and that Lawrence hadn’t made it.


I made the call and spoke to my uncle, who, with his wife, visited my father at his work to break the news. The three of them then went to my mother to break the news. I owe that man a great debt which sadly I doubt I could ever repay.

My next post tomorrow night will cover the trauma of how some of the rest of my family heard the news and the role of the media in reporting the story and other distasteful aspects of this incident.

Geo.

sorry to hear about the circumstances of the loss of your brother - a true hero.

Heartfelt and very well written Geo - I'll be sticking this on my list of daily 'must-reads'

+1

Lost for words,sorry for your loss and thank you for your sevice.

Wel done Geo.

xxx

+1

xxx

Sorry for your loss mate.

I cant imagine what it would be like, my brother is in the army and has been for 17 yrs now, he joined junior leaders in his school uniform the day he left school, 17 years on he's done 3 tours of Ireland, 2 of Iraq,1 bosnia,and 1 of afgahanastan. I couldn't be prouder of him and the great work all our boys and girls around the world do, but whilst he's away I dread every phone call from my mum.

A few weeks ago, on the 100 yr celebration of the TA, they asked his regiment to supply a Challanger 2 and some guys to highlight the show, his few guys where the only enlisted men there and over the course of 3 days only one person came and said "cheers fella's great job". I find this disgusting why we dont support or forces.

This is one thread I look forward to reading, thanks for sharing it with us. 

so sad to read m8 ,I lost a brother a few years back and another earlier in the year myself both served in the army in there younger days,no its not boring we can only imagine what you went through.

wow ... ty Geo, sharing personal memories isnt the easiest thing in the world, but they enrich everyone that reads them.


Thankyou and I hope you carry this through.

Geo thank you so much for posting this thread. It must have taken a lot of thought and courage to write it all down......it is both captivating and incredibly moving and gives me an insight that I would not otherwise have got.

Thank you

yeah agree with above comments

very moving Geo


look forward to the next installment and your numerous meetings with the Queen in particular ...I remember you telling me of that in Maybury last year

The Queen hunting story is a classic

Thanks for the replies and PM's so far guys, very encouraging indeed.

I intend to do various pieces, one of which will cover the Royal Family........................and how Geo almost took out old Charlie boy too (and I don't mean on a date.)

Geo

Geo, we're at opposite ends of the political spectrum, probably never to agree, but can I just echo the others' admiration at your openness and honesty on this thread & their sympathy for your losses.

It's very important in these conflicts to remember that it's real people with famillies being hurt & not to demonise the other side. Your postings are stark reminders of that. I'll happilly shake your hand and buy you a beer next time we meet, I'd not have the courage to speak so openly about things that hurt me.

Geo, an absolutely stunningly heartfelt thread, loads of respect to you.

With posts like this there is hope for society............respect to both of you

They buried Sid King today, one of the lads who died earlier this week.

RIP Sid.

The Aftermath

Having made the phone call to my uncle, I made my way back to my room. I had been informed that they had passed my duties onto another NCO and that I was to prepare to be flown out that evening. I knew it would be a wee while before a chopper could be made available so I prepared myself for a long wait.

I knew that most air time for the choppers would be taken up as the follow up to the shooting would take a while. They would then have to return the various troops and agencies back to where they had deployed from.

There was a knock at the door and my mate Mark, the platoon commander from earlier entered. “Dicky, I need to take your weapon and ammo, normal procedure, just a precaution.”

In effect they couldn’t take the chance that I would go hurtling into Crossmaglen Square loaded like Rambo trying to seek revenge……….fair do’s I thought. This is one of the great traits of the British soldier, we understand the risks and when things like this happen, generally we know how to behave.

We’ve all read the stories from Iraq and Afghanistan and the likes and how certain countries reactions go OTT when they lose colleagues. This rarely happens with the British soldier. I won’t say it’s never happened, I believe there may be an ongoing investigation into the reactions of 1 British unit where they took a group of lads and gave them a beating after an Incident in Iraq (not sure if it has finished or what the findings were.) However it is very rare, unlike one country that is renowned however for taking out whole groups of people in reaction to the loss of a colleague/s. I’ll keep that for a piece on my thoughts of the British soldier against other Armies.

I handed over my weapon and ammo and once Mark left I lay back on my bed. This didn’t help one bit, lying there, all sorts of thoughts going through my head. I couldn’t phone home to tell the wife I was ok, no doubt news would have gotten back that someone had been killed, as the telephone ban was still in place to all but the ops room. I wonder how they cope with that in this day of mobile phones and the like. I’m not sure how big the mobile phone thing was back then to be honest. In fact I didn’t have a mobile until a couple of years ago.

I decide I needed company. I left my room and started making my way along the corridor, the Naafi was about 30 yards from my room. Within that 30 yards there were so many of my mates and soldiers I knew that hurried past me heads bowed with a quick utterance of “sorry Dicky,” or even seen me approach and quickly turned and hot footed it the other way.

Again, like my mate Budgie in the ops room earlier, it was fear of saying the wrong thing, or not really knowing what to say. I hurried into the Naafi, there were quite a few there. I slammed the door shut and this made them all look up. “look lads” I said, “please don’t feel afraid to talk to me, I need you to talk to me.” Within seconds I was surrounded by a few sobbing mates, being crushed halve to death with hugs of sorrow. I felt secure once more.

I was eventually flown from Crossmaglen to Bessbrook Mill where our regiment had their headquarters. The next morning I made the trip to Belfast Harbour airport and flew home. We were stationed at Fort George in Inverness at the time.

I went to my own house first and was greeted by my wife Tricia, my boys were there too. Only Greg, my oldest was old enough to realise what was going on, he was the one who would later join the Regiment himself. We had a quick chat and then wandered over to Lawrence’s house to see his wife and daughter (I earlier said she was 9 months old, I have been corrected she was actually 18 months old, men and birthdays ehh.)

My mother, father and my 2 other brothers were there. I hugged my 2 brothers and with a courteous nod, acknowledged my parents. They informed me of the hassles they had already had from the media, camping outside my parent’s house in Edinburgh in an attempt to get a picture of the grieving family, the continuous knocking at the door asking for interviews. My parents house then was directly opposite the Drylaw Police station on Ferry Road and my father new a couple of the policemen there. He eventually had to call the police to warn the reporters not to go beyond the garden gate. They couldn’t stop them congregating in the street but the garden was my parents property so they could be told to stay out of there.

I found out then that my youngest sister, who was working away as a hairdresser heard the news of her brother’s death on the Radio Forth news and broke down hysterically and had to be taken home. The normal procedure in these cases is that no details are released by the military as to the identity of the victim until the family have declared that they have informed everyone that they had wished. Some bastard had leaked this. Whether it was an error by the military press office or a careless phone call we’ll never know.

We eventually made our way down to Edinburgh in preparation for the funeral. There was a huge attendance, bolstered by a number of the then Hibs squad. Lawrence was a fanatical Hibs supporter, one of my prized possessions is a framed photograph given to me by his wife of Lawrence and other members of our regiments Hibs supporters club with the Hibs squad which was taken during their pre-season tour of Germany in 1987. We had the whole squad stay at the camp for 2 weeks with us it was one of his happiest moments and 1 of his cherished possessions. His grave is in the cemetery on Drum Terrace under the shadows of the stadium he loved.

After the funeral and the wake at the Hibs supporters club in Easter Road we went home to grieve and continue with our lives, or so we thought. Over that weekend there had been the Warrington bomb in which the 2 young lads, Johnathan ball (3) and Tim Parry (12) had been murdered. I found this more sickening than the death of my brother. These were innocents; we can accept that the terrorist will have a pop at us soldiers, but innocent civilians?? I believe that one of my favourite songs, Zombie by The Cranberrys was written as a protest to the bombings in Warrington.


Once again the media turn up at the doorstep, “can we have your views on the Warrington bombing?”………GTF the lot of ye. Yes we're appalled by it but no more than any decent citizen. They are merely looking for a reaction, a story to tell. Hoping that the trauma of our recent loss will tilt us into saying something that can sell their papers, not here mate, on yer bike. But they find other ways.

Within a few days various reports started circling in some newspapers, one in particular that doesn’t sell too well in Liverpool. They ran a series of headlines about some so-called “Terminator.” Supposedly an ex American Green Beret and sniper who had carried out the recent spate of single shot killings in the province. They ran an article saying they knew the names of the 5 man team behind these attacks. They printed brief details of each of them, which in reality would describe thousands of people living in areas such as South Armagh and Cullyhanna. I can state for a FACT that the weapon used to kill my brother was a Garand M1 .30 calibre rifle and not the Barratt .50 rifle that they say was used in all these killings.

I still have the paper, haven’t read many papers since. At the end of tonights post is a photo of the front cover of this despicable paper from 29th March, almost 2 weeks after Lawrence’s death. The cover leads with a picture of my brother, one of the last taken. The story they ran was vile it turned my stomach. The headline is Heads you Win, Tails I Die. It goes on to tell a tale that 24 hours before he was killed Lawrence and another soldier had tossed a coin to see who would go on a St Patrick’s Day patrol. According to The Shit, they had been told that one could go home but that one had to stay to go on this patrol, that the other lad had said that Lawrence should go home as he had a family but that my brother insisted that they toss for it. What a lot of Bollox!! And here’s why:

If you’ve been reading carefully you will remember that I had met my brother in the dining room on the morning of the attack. As explained, they were a group who, at a moments notice, would be deployed to react to any currently perceived threat and that they had only flew in the night before, they did not know 24 hours beforehand that they were going on this patrol.

Secondly, you know pretty well in advance your date for returning. It’s a logistical nightmare moving a Regiment of some 650 men plus attachments into an operational area. We generally knew by the halfway stage of the tour when our individual return dates would be, we arranged our rest and recuperation (R’N’R) dates around this and usually set up our “Chuff Charts” a calendar which we would use to cross off each day as it passed before we were due to leave the province.

Lastly, the picture shown has a caption that this photo was taken as Lawrence prepared for this final patrol, again utter nonsense. It was taken by a photographer of the Scotsman newspaper just before Christmas. A couple of reporters had visited us at that time to do a story on how the troops coped over the Christmas period whilst on operations.

Very moving stuff Geo ... I cannot put into words quite how much I admire your strength in sharing this, I for one am hooked on this thread and I hope you have the strength and resolve to continue this thread with your stories for a long time.


I hope you dont mind, but I googled your Brother Lawrence, and I came up with this extract from a book which states he was shot by the sniper rifle "Barrett Light 50" , Just goes to show how reported incidents are never to be taken as fact.

http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=azR_Rav_OMYC&pg=PA184&lpg=PA184&dq=Lawrence+Dickson&source=web&ots=AELGqytgyd&sig=BE_3NfZauEvuuFXwwv48t1EtYAw&hl=en&sa=X&oi=book_result&resnum=7&ct=result#PPA184,M2

Thanks Kev,

I was obviously privvy to the reports and findings on the death of m brother. Interestingly enough I hold a letter of condolence form the wife of Constable Reid one of the RUC constables who had been shot a few weeks earlier.

We received many letters of condolence from people we never knew, especially from the Province and both sides of the divide.

geo.

The main pieces in the Scotsman were very well written. I have a copy of The Scotsman of 19th March; in it is a piece written by a journalist for The Scotsman called Severin Carrell who was on this visit. It’s pretty ironic that the main interview was with my brother. A very well written piece with a good honest description of my brother to finish. It is too long a piece for me to type in here and past editions for The Scotsman online don’t seem to start till circa 1994, I’m sure if any of you are interested you may find a copy in a library. The reporter took time to visit me and presented me with some of the pictures they had taken, probably the last pictures taken of him, I shared them with my family.  I share the one I kept with you also. The toy he is holding is a furry Santa. The lad sitting on the bed to the left with the stupid grin was one of my brother’s best mates, Dean Gowans. Dean was the first man to get to Lawrence after he was shot. Lawrence uttered his last words to Dean, a message for his wife. Dean passed this message on in private and never told anyone else what was said. Dean left the Army shortly after on medical grounds, he was a broken man and was treated for mental health problems. I see him often and he is better but will never be the same. I can only guess the torture this lad goes through. Dean is another I owe a great debt.

Geo.

RIP Bro.

Only just had a chance to read this thread, but very moving stuff...

it must take some courage to write it down, but please make sure you continue, because I will be making a point of looking out for it and reading it..

Dafydd

Thanks to Jane for this link. It's always good to get stuff to authenticate your stories.

This guy tells a portion on my story better than I did.

Thanks Jane.

Geo.

http://www.hibeesbounce.com/forum/angels-high-above/71991-lawrence-dickson.html

Geo

Very brave and honest writing.  Thank you for sharing.

Sheriff

Beautifully written Geo,thank you for sharing.

it must of been hard to write this geo , thanks for sharing

+1

Geo your views on newspapers in this country really are spot on. They say they are reporting the news but in honesty they are not. They are always pressurising for a story that they can spin in the most exaggerated way which normally means negatively............They are only doing their jobs. I think not.

It is powerful stuff sir

+1 Some amazing posts there Geo

Geo - thank you. So sad, so moving, so beautifully written.

Daily we hear & read of a Soldier being killed at some hotspot, while on duty. We rarely "think behind" that headline.

Just to echo the sentiments of everyone else who's commented on this thread, a beautifully written thread which has definetely made many of think about the suffering to the families of the lost ones of our boys who have over the years been killed in action. Like TK said theres always a family behind the headline and alas once it was your family.

RIP Lawrence Dickson.

Geo, were you still in the mob when the Royal Scots were based at Colchester a few years back ?, they were there along with the Royal Gloucestershire, Wiltshire, Berkshire Regiment.

Now its 2 & 3 Para that are there.

Amazing thread Geo, very moving

A very thought provoking thread Geo......sorry to hear of your recent losses.

As an ex forces person (1979-1993) I have a good understanding of much that you have spoken about, but to lose your brother in that situation & circumstance I cant begin to imagine the pain. Your reaction with the other lads was out of the top draw mate!

I had three tours working out of Bessbrook as an aircrewman in Wessex V choppers with 845 Naval Air Commando Squadron in 1980/81, they were tough times for sure but we made life time friends & it wasn't all bad eh? To think that I was only 20/21 years of age is the mad thing!

I look forward to reading your future posts, I think they will bring back many memories good & bad.

Yes mate, spent 2 great years there, lived in Fallowfield Road on the Army estate. My 2 eldest attended Alderman Blaxill (sp?) and still have many friends in Colly. They still take the occasional trip down to see old mates. I played football for Dedham, a wee village not far from there.

I once got into a bit trouble at a Sgt's Mess dinner night when I commented on Fagins nightclub being a dive and a death trap due to the fact you entered the club, walked down they steep stairs that could only accomodate 1 at a time and the back doors (with emergency exit plastered all over them) were always chained shut.

How was I to know that the Regimental Sergeant Major's guest that night was the owner of the place.........fkmylife.

21 extras...............day on-day off.    (extras where extra duties, usually overseeing the security of the camp. Generally in full uniform and little if any sleep.)

Geo

Fallowfield road ... I know it well, i used to sell Cable tv/phones on the army estate ... used to skive off in the NAAFI cafe, and get all the punters to come to me to sign up while i bought them a brew :D ... you must have some pics of you in the mess trousers knocking about ... they were "interesting" to say the least :D

There were a lot of Gurkha's about then too , smashing people they were ... shit coffee though ... it was made with carnation milk and was bloody awful, but you had to drink it when they made you one so as not to offend !

Oh and you were right about Fagins ... down the steps then you had to negotiate the stickiest carpet in the world... LOL what a shit hole that was ... its closed down now, the owners of molly malones turned it into a poker room would you believe ... lasted about 3 months as it was never advertised or promoted.

>>AAAAAAAAAAAAhhh the Sticky Carpet, how could I forget, lol.

Thje Gurkhas are superb soldiers and as loyal to this country as most. Hard to believe with the way thay were treated for a while, they're getting close to putting that right though I believe.

Note for further posts: Ghurka stories.

Geo.

I have only read the first few posts on this thread so far, but I have a suggestion before you post too much.

Have you ever considered writing a book? I would buy it

Just caught up.
I re-iterate my suggestion on writing your memoirs, it sounds like there is enough to fill a library let alone a book.

I am speechless. Incredibly moving. Much respect.

+1

 ;iagree;

Bullying

I have an ever growing list of topics for covering in this thread. Thanks so far for the replies and PM’s. From these my list grows.

One PM I received told the story of the death of one of our forum members’ brother which was directly attributable to bullying whilst serving in the Army. I will not repeat the story, it’s not my place. I do thank them though.

Bullying was one of the first subjects on my then basic list, it’s something I absolutely detest. I don’t really have to tell you all that bullying comes in all forms, it doesn’t need to be physical it can be verbal or even mental.

Some people may try to classify certain levels of bullying………..I say don’t bother, a bully is a bully and that’s it. Whether it be throwing their weight around to get what they want or even to prove they are the tough guy or pressurising someone verbally or mentally into doing something they don’t want to, it’s still bullying. Believe it or not I still see it almost every day at work and I work in an office.

I’ve heard of colleagues being told that because they are not prepared to put in overtime to assist the work position that this will reflect on their Balanced Scorecard (a common measurement of annual performance.) It’s bullying, no doubt about it.

I grew up in an area of Edinburgh called Pilton, one of the roughest areas of the city, it’s not a brag, I wish I hadn’t, life would possibly have been easier, but would I have been any happier or wiser? Who knows, that was my lot and as we all do, I just got on with it.

My problems as a youngster where in the home. We didn’t have much money, mum and dad had run of the mill jobs and for long periods my dad was off work with various injuries and illnesses. I was one of seven children, I had 2 older sisters 3 younger brothers and a younger sister. My father was a very violent man and I witnessed him in a few brawls in the street, in fairness on occasion defending something said or done toward the family. However, he could be as violent at home as he was outside. I would say he only had one level of punishment regardless of severity of the offence, throw you in a corner and then punch and kick lumps out of you and then banish you to your room, often with the added punishment of not receiving meals.

I liked the sent to my room bit, I was safe there, I’d had my beating and he wouldn’t hurt me anymore…………until the next time. My mum wasn’t averse to using violence either but in the more traditional way of over the knee, however was happy to use whatever implement was at hand, belt, slipper, the wee metal coal shuffle from beside the fireplace. You know the one, the silver metal Shovel/Brush and Tongs combo on the stand that every family had by the fire back then.

One of her favourites was a strip of yellow plastic track from my hot wheels set that I had received as a Christmas present one year. Many may remember the sections of track about a foot or so long that you clicked together to make your track. It had various other pieces that you could use to make loops in and a ramp thingy you stuck on the end from where you launched your Hot Wheels cars from. Bugger, getting smacked with one of those really stung.

There are quite a few incidents of what I consider improper punishment that I suffered in the hands of my parents, I will only list two of them in an effort to explain why I have had such a loathing of bullying.

I was never a bad lad, sure, I made mistakes, broke a few windows (usually with a football.) and occasionally pinched a penny from the dressing room table in my parents room that was part of a pile dumped there by father after his return from the pub the night before. I never committed any offences, never ran with the gangs, all I did was play football. I can’t ever recall being bullied outside the home either. No-one wanted to bully me, I was a cracking wee fitba’ player, one of the best in the area and everyone wanted me to be in their team. Funny how such a simple talent can have its benefits.

The first event happened around 1972/73. I was 11 or 12 years of age. As I said earlier we didn’t have a lot of money and there wasn’t a lot of food in the home. Meals were generally cereal or toast, never both, for breakfast, free school dinner (I used to love school custard, that nearly white, thick as porridge stuff) and generally it would be mince, stewed sausages or soup kind of thing for tea. The mince or stewed sausage was usually served on top of a slice of bread, no veg or tatties (I know tatties is a veg, but you know what I mean.) This particular evening, it must have been a Saturday as dad had returned from the pub and it was fairly early evening. Saturdays he would spend most of the afternoon at the pub, visiting the bookies between pints. I never understood how we could hardly have a proper meal at times and yet my father was in the pub most nights and every Saturday and would have money for betting. Maybe some of the older ones amongst you can explain it.

He came in, sat in his chair, his chair, no-one else dared use it and took control of the tele. After a while he got up and went through to the kitchen. “Aaaaarrrgggh, which of you little bastards took it!” was the scream as he launched himself back into the living room. “Who took the last bit of cheese?” We all looked at each other terrified, we knew what was coming. “There was a bit of cheese in the cupboard (no fridge then) before I went out, it’s no longer there, who took it?” Not sure about others but at that time we daren’t take anything from the cupboard, not even a slice of bread, we always had to ask. We all denied it, no-one would own up, mum said it wasn’t her. “right that’s it, there’s a thief amongst you and I intend to find out who, get through the room, and if no-one owns up within 10 minutes you’ll all be sorry” Through the room meant everyone was to go into the big bedroom.

There were nine of us in a three - bedroomed council house. Parents had the middle room, my 2 elder sisters had the smaller room and the other five of us had the big room, 2 sets of bunk beds and a single bed with not much room for anything else. Three of us were bed wetters so you can imagine that at times it wasn’t a pleasant place to be.

After a while he came into the bedroom. “Right have you decided who took it?” we had discussed it and we were all adamant that it wasn’t us, it certainly wasn’t me. The chorus rang out “it wisnae me dad” seven voices  all at different pitches and in concert replied to him. “Right get stripped, wife (I won’t use her name though he did) where’s the strip?” The strip being the yellow piece of track as mentioned earlier.  Get stripped meant we all were to strip naked, we now had the scene of 7 kids aged from about sixteen to 7 standing naked and sobbing uncontrollably, we knew what was coming.

It was always the same routine, oldest first. My eldest sister was ordered to the living room and within seconds it started, I’m not very good at describing noises but if you could combine the sounds slap and thwack together that would be about it. “It wisnae me dad, honest” were the screams which continued for about 5 minutes and then my sister returned, picked up her clothes and went to her own room. Then it was my second sister, same scenario. Then it was my turn, it had surprised me that he had called for the strip as this wasn’t his usual method, as told earlier, he was a trap you in a corner and give you a good leathering type.

However when I was called through I found it was no different, still bundled in the corner however instead of the punches it was a beating with the strip with the odd kick thrown in. Rinse-repeat until all seven had taking a whacking, we had all denied it. Good that’s it done, we all go to bed and get up next morning we thought, not a hope in hell. After the youngest returned he called us all together again. “If I don’t find out who did it within the next 20 minutes you’re all getting the same again. We were left in the big room again to debate as to who done it, we debated for a while, accusation and counter accusation “I was watching the tele” one would say, “I was in my room “  another would reply. “ you were in the kitchen earlier” one would accuse “I only went in for a drink of water” would be the defence.

The debate went on for a wee bit then the offers would be spread around, “if you say you done it, I’ll share my dinner with you” “if you take the blame I’ll give you my marbles and corgi car” sort of thing. I decided I could not bear to go through it all again. I quietly stood up and walked through to the living room. “dad, it was me” (it hadn’t been) the inevitable happened, back to his normal modus operandi, thrown in the corner, no yellow strip this time just fists and feet, I took a hell of a beating “how could you let your brothers and sisters take that sort of punishment, you’re a horrible little shit” and various other utterances. All the words I’ve used are approximate, I obviously can’t remember them exactly.

I returned to the room, my eldest sister was first to speak……..”it wasn’t you was it?” “no” I replied. “Then why didn’t you tell us you were going to take the blame and take what people were offering?” I never replied, I was too tired and too sore to explain, I merely went to my bottom bunk and curled up under the huge pink candlewick cover. Why did I do it? I don’t really know, I’d had my fare share of beatings as had my two elder sisters, the younger once not so much, and even tonight probably didn’t receive as severely as the first three. I’d like to think it was to protect them that little bit, he was a monster, they were only kids, I was the big boy of the family, I had a duty to protect my siblings and I did again on a couple of occasions but this time before he got to them.

The second scenario was when I was sixteen. Maybe 3 or 4 months before I had suffered another beating at the hands of my father. I and a couple of other lads had gone scrumping, taking apples from the trees in the back gardens in an area of Edinburgh conveniently called Orchard Brae, behind the Western general hospital. To keep it simple, we got caught, in those days it was no great crime, the beat bobby (remember them?) caught you, clipped you round the lug and sent you off with the cries of “I’ll tell your faither next time I see him” the beat Bobby generally knew everyone and always had an ear to the ground and also almost always knew who was up to what and who had done what, even if he couldn’t prove it he’d let you know he knew. We’d all had this happen, the slap round the lug, the threat of telling your father, rarely would the threat be carried out for such a petty thing. Unfortunately for me, not this time. My father returned from the pub a couple of nights later and called me from my sleep. Bleary eyed, I wandered through to the living room, no concerns, I’d been a good boy that day, I think, had I, did I do anything today, nope, are you sure? All this going through my head as the anxiety built up as I approached the living room. I knew by his tone he was angry but for the life of me could not think of anything I’d done that day. As I entered the room I received a huge slap around the back of the head, that was it, into the corner again, another beating. “You thieving little git, I’ll give ye choring (stealing) apples.” Obviously he had met the Bobby and I’d been shopped off. More that likely the Bobby had stopped of for a swift half as he usually did during an evening stag and had probably mentioned to my father he had slapped my lug for scrumping, I suspect not realising the beating he had set me up for.

Anyway, this evening in question there was a knock at the door and I answered. A stranger stood there enquiring “George Dickson?” yes that’s me. “No” he said with a chortle, “I think I’m looking for your father.” I called my father to the door and on seeing the man stepped forward and shook his hand, it appears this was an old friend of his that was in the area and had decided to look him up.

They soon settled down and started chatting about their old school days and there times growing up in Wallyford, a smallish former mining village on the outskirts of Edinburgh (Turney may recognise the name as until a few years ago they had quite a famous greyhound track there, almost as popular as the Powderhall track was in Edinburgh in these days) They then proceeded to retell a story of how they had been caught by the local Bobby whilst out scrumping in the Wallyford/Musselburgh area. My heart sank as they sat there hysterical with laughter as they described the slap round the lug, the stinging in the ear and the fear that the Bobby might indeed tell their fathers.

My father then turns to me and says “you should have seen him (his mate) he was crying all the way up the road, not cos the Bobby had slapped him but because of the hiding he knew he would get if his father had found out.” There was no reference to my own misdemeanour a couple of months beforehand, and it was as if he was saying “his father would have beat him, mines wouldn’t” or was it because he didn’t fear his father when he was a youngster, he was a big lad. Or was it because my grandfather was a better father to him and would never have meted out such a punishment for an offence like this.

Either way, I cracked, I leapt at my father and started punching and kicking, he was seated, it took him a wee bit of time to restrain me but that wee bit of time was glorious to me, it was my chance of giving something back that he had given me all too often. Of course, I came off worse and was banished to my room with the threat of “I’ll deal with you later.” He never got the chance……….early next morning I left the house for good, packed a couple of things in a carrier bag and went off. I knew a wee place, a set of caves down by Gypsy Brae near the shore at Granton and settled myself there for a few days before being taken in by my mate’s uncle. The caves were a place I visited often, I was a constant runaway, sometimes after a beating, sometimes just to get away from it all, if I get through the topics I want to in this thread I may even have time to add a few tales of my escapades “on the run”.

Occasionally I still do it, not so much run away but I’ll pack a rucksack and walk up to the Pentland Hills here in Edinburgh which are only a 10 minute walk from my house and settle in a wood for a night or 2, just to reflect when times get tough. I did it when I went to the APAT in Cardiff, I qualified in Edinburgh and had enuff cash for flights and food but would have been cutting it fine for accommodation expenses, so I packed my rucksack with sleeping bag and bivvy and my home for the weekend was in the wooded area to the side of the Casino at the edge of the car park, I’ve never slept so well in ages. I had three changes of clothing and each morning I rose, packed my rucksack and went into the toilets at the bowling alley in the Red Dragon Centre, stripped to my drawers and had an all over body wash with my trusty flannel (steady ladies,) washed my hair in the sink and then used the hand dryer and a towel to dry off it was great and for me it was easy, I’ve done it almost all my life..

My father probably expected me to show up after a few days but I didn’t return. It was shortly after this that I joined the Army and into a different world of bullying…………….

amazingly well written stuff yet again Geo.  Must be hard for you to write, yet it's conjured up such lifelike images.  Brought tears to my eyes reading about your parents' treatment of you all - I've never so much as smacked my daughter, I just couldn't, and find it so hard to fathom how anyone could do that to their children.

I joined the Army in 1978 and went to the training depot at Penicuik not far from Edinburgh, I spent 23 years in the Army and have absolutely no regrets. I had bad times, I had good times. Unfortunately not everyone who joins the Army can say the same. The cases of possible Army bullying highlighted in recent years are the various incidents at Deepcut where several young soldiers have seemed to have taken their own lives. I don’t think it right for me to comment, not enough is known, nothing has been proven as yet and details have been very limited although it is thought that there is evidence to suggest that there are doubts as to whether 3 of them were suicides, this takes it way beyond bullying and that is why I feel I can’t go there but my heart goes out to the families and I dearly hope that the truth is discovered.

Is there bullying in the Army? Yes, definitely, it has always been there. I believe there are different  types of bullying, not levels, as I said before bullying is bullying. The most common is from your peers. It’s the ganging up on the weaker individual, the guy who can’t run as fast as the rest of the squad. It’s the guy who can’t take in the lessons being taught as quickly as others. It’s the guy who’s hygiene and tidiness is not as sharp as the rest. The guy that is holding the rest up. This is most common during training. An example:

Jonny has passed his tests and has been accepted into a training regiment. Jonny is a clever lad and passed all the tests easily. Jonny interviewed well and passed all other criteria regards health, crime etc. Jonny only just passed the fitness test during recruit selection. The Army careers officer takes all this into consideration before deciding whether Jonny can be selected to join the Army. Jonnys only weakness is his fitness, however taking all into account and the fact that Jonny will receive sufficient fitness training during his recruit stages he allows him to take his place at a training depot.

Jonny begins the training and at first copes well with the lower level fitness at the beginning of his training. Jonny excels in the weapon lesson, the map reading, the first aid etc. Jonny begins to struggle with the fitness, we are now 6 or 7 weeks into training and we are running as squads, the squad needs to travel 8 miles within a certain time and Jonny is holding them up. Jonny’s section are in competition with the other sections of his training platoon for the best section prize, Jonny is preventing them reaching there goal………………….get the picture. 

It’s the last task in the competition and it’s all to play for. Jonny’s section currently lead the competition but there’s only a couple of points between them and 2 section. 2 section don’t have a Jonny. In this scenario I have seen two things happen. Jonny picks up a mysterious injury the night before and can’t compete………….no he doesn’t, his section give him a beating and ensures he cannot take part next day. The other scenario is that Jonny does compete, tries his heart out but unfortunately lags behind. 2 section win by a few seconds and take the title, Jonny takes a beating, it’s his fault, if he had kept up we would have won it. If Jonny had kept up with the pace however and they still lost Jonny doesn’t get beaten, they are all responsible, they aint gonna beat themselves. It happens. However consider this……….

Jonny has got through all that and Jonny is now with his Regiment. He excelled in the first aid classes and continued these once joining his unit. Jonny is now the team medic.

They are on operations and they have an eight mile tab to their objective. Jonny is not as fast as the rest of the guys, the guys go at his pace, they are a unit, every man has a specialist task, the machine gunner, the sniper, the radio op, the mortar man. Every one of them is an infantry soldier however they all bring an added dimension to the team. For a successful operation they all need to get there together. It’s an ambush!!, they fight there way through it and chase of or kill the enemy. There’s a casualty, one of the guys has taken a bullet in the leg. Jonny is the medic, Jonny tends to his wounds and administers morphine, Jonny arranges the medivac. Jonny saves his life, this guy who a year earlier gave Jonny a beating because they lost a race in training. Sometimes competition can be a bad thing. And by the way, Jonny is a British soldier so he continues on and treats the enemy casualties as well.

The second type is the power crazy guy, not necessarily a tough guy but he holds the rank. Give me any bother and you’re in trouble. I abuse my power, I’m a Corporal or a Sergeant and because of this you’ll do what I tell you. It starts of with simple stuff, making you do press ups in the middle of a puddle when there is plenty of dry ground around, making you run with the rifle above your head, no reason for it you haven’t done anything wrong, it’s just harder that way, that’s all. You aint gonna go running into battle with your rifle above your head I can assure you so why make you do it? These are the guys who if you correct their mistakes or go one better than them they don’t like it. Your of lower rank, you shouldn’t beat me, I’m going to punish you. In all honestly this is frowned upon in the Army and if reported these guys are dealt with. But that’s the problem, the soldier fears grassing him up for fear of further consequences, if not by the NCO but from his mates. The guy responsible for the bullying of the brother of the forum member I believe was one of this type.

The 3rd type is what we’ve just seen recently, soldiers in particular jobs who are basically given license to bully. Usually it’s the Physical Training Instructor or a member of the Regimental Police. The Gavin Williams case has just finished and the accused have been found not guilty. They killed the lad, they are responsible for his death. Why did they escape punishment? Because they were following orders. What a load of bollox. The Adjutant who ordered them to carry out the beasting should have been in the dock with them and they all should have been punished. I accept they did not mean to kill the lad, however they are responsible. No different than if I was driving my car and reached down to change a CD, not concentrating on the road and a child steps out and I hit and kill them, I’m guilty. I should and would be punished.

Beasting has been a part of Army life probably from inception. It’s not nice, most soldiers have suffered some sort of beasting at one time or another, it does not make it right. I was offered the post of Provost Sergeant in my regiment at one time, I turned it down. I didn’t want to have to change the way I was expected to treat soldiers who had stepped out of line. The thing I don’t get also is that during their careers they all most probably suffered some type of punishment drill. I bet they cursed the sod that was doing it then so why go on and do it yourself.

Then you have the out and out thug. This is the guy who, whatever he done in life would be picking on people, usually the big guy that has other limitations and thinks he can make up for it by bullying others. The guy who can’t be bothered to get off his arse to go to the Naffi for his fags so gets the weaker guy to go for him, he won’t refuse, he’s afraid he’ll get a kicking. The guy who is with his mates in the pub, whilst they are chatting up the girls he’s picking fights, he’s not a nice guy, no point trying to chat up the girls he hasn’t a chance. It’s his deficiencies, he’s usually ugly, he’s obnoxious, he’s got nothing going for him but he’s big. So he punches people and he feels superior. He’s a wanker.

Geo.

Thank you Claire, it hasn't been as difficult to write as I thought, truth be told I'm actually finding it difficult to stop writing when I start. I actually fear that people may stop reading as some of the posts are so long. It has been emotional but I needed to do it for myself. Before blonde all my mates were Army, we didn't discuss these things much, part bravado part not wanting to discuss and raise bad memories I suppose. I've said this in a couple of replies to PM's.

It was always my wife's job to punish, she too never raised a hand. They're big guys now and have done her proud.

Geo.

Great stuff Geo

If I may say so Geo, the Posts are just the right length, not too long, not too short, just right.

What a tale!

And what great storytellers blonde has in it's midst.

The beating for the "stolen" cheese, the younger readers won't understand, but in those days, children never, never ever, "took" food from the pantry, it was stealing.

I "stole" a biscuit, got caught, & ended up running away from home for a week & sleeping rough to avoid the punishment I was due - I was 8.

But, oddly, the tough times at home seemed to produce tough adults, & I'm not sure I'd want it any other way, because I can handle mental bumps & bruises with the best of them. And you seem pretty hardy, too, & can, I imagine, handle a wee bit of wind in your face.

That "fireside set" you refer to - coal tongs, brush, poker, coal "spade", every single home had one in the fifties, they were called "Combination Sets" I think. I bet most homes don't have one now.

Keep it coming man. And save it to a Word Document, or something, in case it ever gets lost - one day it may be the basis of a book.

Thanks TK,

And lol at not many homes having fireside sets, not many homes have coal fires these days, they blame Maggie Thatcher you know, I've already started writing a piece on the woman, that'll stir a few hornets I reckon.


geo

It makes fascinating reading George. No danger of getting bored with it!

They blmae Maggie for everything. Except putting right the wrongs of 30 years of poor Goverment.

Did Maggie brake the spell check?

Whoa, put your breaks on........;)

Yeah, I blame - sorry, blmae, her for that, too.

sadly i can picture the story of your life at  home geo, i have images of life in the 40s or 50s briton ,somethings never change, i am proud to say i have never given any of my children a hiding, my children have always respected me, and we are close , the thugs who try to beat  respect into there children will loose it forever.

Yet again Geo you have reduced me to tears.

"Who put the pepper in the porridge"...we all got the shit kicked out of us for that one....every day...till we bribed the baby of the family to say she did it.

It took 30 yrs before my other sister confessed.

Yeah Suz,

There's many of us, however we generally are stronger people for it, I never did find out who took the cheese and TBH never really wanted to find out. All us kids got on well together, hardly a fight between us. I probably didn't want to know for fear I would then have a dislike for one of my siblings.

Geo xx

Geo. I'm totally awestruck and spellbound. Not only by your story, but also by your courage and ability in telling it.


Astonishing.

BTW- When I travel to a two day comp I don't usually book a hotel because if I don't make day 2 I won't need it, and if I do make day 2 I will not get into the room until 6am and they want me out at 10am.

So I sleep in the back of my pickup instead, then, in the morning I pop down to MacDonald's and have a strip wash and a shave in the loos. Failing that, I can manage quite well with half a litre of water from my bottle and a small plastic bowl. 

Even when I'm at home, I like to have to odd night outside under the stars. (I had a great bivvy-bag that I found in an ex-army shop in Manchester, but I stored it in the shed and the mice got into it last year)

There are some diaries that I do stop reading due to the length of posts and amount of pages but dont worry with this one. I think its safe to say you have a captivated audience.

Did I mention you should write a book? You could make/raise a lot of money and share your story with a much wider audience.

The posts just get better and better.................please keep going and god knows what we will read once you run out of tales to tell. Takes some courage & guts to write so openly about the bullying you took from your father and once again thanks for sharing your experiences with us all.

so you guys are walking around public toilets in your pants?

outstanding thread btw

Whooosh

I've been meaning to read this for a few days now but only got around to it this morning and I've read it all.

Once I'd started I just couldn't put it down and can hardly wait for the next installment.

It's great writing Geo, you too have a real talent for expressing yourself in the written word.

Thank you.

Unwoosh. I am with you now

This actually moved me to a few tears.
Thanks for sharing your story with us Geo

From you sir, I consider it a blessing.

PM me your adress and I'l make sure you get a workable bivvy bag.

Apologies to all, I've just spent the day with a good friend of mine. I'm pisshed................... A friend has travelled up from the Brighton area (no, he's not a flushy) he is probably the best civvy I know. He was one of my first managers in civvy life, he understood, he knew what I was all about, he understood, he argued my case, he understood . When I went wrong he put me right, he understood, when I used the wrong words he explained to others, he understood.

He helped others understand and I was accepted. He is a great man.....................he's blootered and now lying on my couch, he knows that I appreciate everyhting he done for me, I tell him often and he is embarrased by it all. He left our team and went to teaching college a couple of years ago. He now teaches in a place called Lansing? (near Brighton) In a school that is, I believe, in the top 10 of worst in Britain, he loves his job, it's hard but he understands the kids much like he understands me. he will succeed. His name is John Ferguson and as I said earlier he is blootered and sleeping on my couch.........I, like many others reward loyalty. The only way I knew..... I made sure he had a good night

Geo

I am the forum member that Geo has mentioned in his bullying post.

I decided early on not to post as I did not want to put any negativity into his thread as it would be disrepectful to all the soldiers who have fought and died for our country.

As he has brought up the subject of bullying I feel I can post.

I am the oldest of 4 kids (3 girls + 1 boy) and we all made our escape from home at an early age, I headed for the city lights and when my brother was old enough he joined the army.

Being in a family of girls he spent a lot of time with his male cousin and his single parent uncle who had spent a lifetime in the army so it was inevitable he would eventually join.

To cut a long story short my brother was posted in Germany and on a night out with the lads. They were in a bar and my brother was chatting up a girl when her "boyfriend" walked in. The boyfriend happened to be one of his superior officers, the girl claimed that they had only chatted the night before but that was enough reason for this officer and his mates to give him a kicking.

It didnt stop there, the officer made my brothers life a living hell for months to the extent that after a severe beating my brother went AWOL. It took him 6 days to hitch hike from Germany to Spain (where we were living at that time) with no money and he arrived at our house still covered in bruises and half starved.

He lived in fear of the army turning up at the door to take him away. He built up his strength doing weight training etc as he knew the punishment would be harsh when he went back.

He was ready to go back and decided to have a few blow out nights with his mates before returning.

I dont know the exact details but a fight broke out in the bar he was in, he was being chased and ran across the dual carriageway between Barcelona and Gerona thinking he could outrun a car...he was wrong.

He died 13 days later at the age of 22.

Do I blame the army YES YES AND YES

He didnt die a heroes death, he was hounded and beaten till he couldnt take it anymore. He knew he couldnt go home to UK or he would be arrested, he was strong enough to know this and couragous enough to face going back.

His death was an accident I know but if he hadnt been treated so badly he would have been in Germany when that car was heading home on the Costa Brava.

This is exactly the sort of situation that gives the army a bad name for its bullying nature. Things happen in all walks of life for blokes to either fallout or take a dislike to each other. Being in the army seems to give people the excuse and the power to completely abuse their position as they did in this case, to make someones life a complete misery.

Its another very sad story and one that makes me very angry that this kind of behaviour is tollerated. Sincere condolonces Suzanne.

I know they are soldiers and a bit of harsh treatment will toughen up some people but there are boundaries which are crossed all too often.

I know very little about the armed forces I have to admit. Is bullying just as bad in the Navy or RAF?

sums up my thoughts perfectly.  sorry to hear about your brother Suzanne xx

My Dad was in the RAF all his life and I knew a lot of his mates.

We also lived on bases which mixed Army & RAF.

Other than perhaps members of the RAF Regiment the RAF blokes are a different type to the Army chaps (sweeping generalisation I know) - I'd be surprised if the same level of toughening up/bullying goes on in the RAF - be interesting to get Geo's view.

When I was 14 I went on an Army introductory course on Salisbury plain for 3 days. It was great fun but even at 14 it was plain that a good percentage of the corporals in charge were pretty sadistic. The other half were great and incredibly respect worthy and easy to see why people would follow them when called to

My Dad served with the Royal Fusiliers, went in on National service, and ended up staying in for a god few years. I dont know if basic training has changed much, but he used to tell me that the first mission for the instructors was to break each person down to rock bottom and then build them back up again in the "army" way ... my old man was (and still is) as fit as a butchers dog, and even he struggled to get through it !

He saw active service in North Africa among other places, but generally was a peace time Soldier ... despite him loving his time serving his country, he didnt encourage either myself or my brother to join up, in fact I would say he did his best to make sure we didnt.

My Brother Joined the ATC and was a gnats cock away from joining the RAF ... Beer & Girls saved him LOL. He still flies regularly though and is a qualified Glider pilot and has a light aircraft pilots license.

I can understand this and completely agree. As Geo mentioned in an earlier post, when in battle you want to know that the guys in your troop are the best because your life depends on it.

My brother wasnt a rookie, he joined up as soon as he was old enough and had been in the army for several years and loved it.

It must have been really bad for him to have done a runner. He wouldnt tell us who the officer was although im sure the army must have had a good idea.

Anyway I have had my say and mean no disrespect to Geo and all the guys serving to protect our country. It all happened 20 years ago but sadly it is still going on today.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/7535831.stm

RIP David

PS I know my brother would have taken a beasting fair and square so maybe that was the wrong link to post as it suggests my bro deserved punishment.

You keeping allright, mate?

Yes Kev, National Service training was even tougher from the stories I've heard from the old and bold. Like your father, I never encouraged any my boys, Tricia was absolutely against it.

My eldest Greg decided for himself that he wanted to do it. He got through all his tests, interviews and the 2 day selection at Recruit Selection centre without the wife or I knowing.............andf I was workng in the Recruiting Office at the time!!!

Tricia still hates the fact he is serving, it's not that she doesn't respect the military, only that she's been through it all with me.

Nirvana,

Like evrywhere else there is bullying in all Arms of Service. I worked in a Tri-Service recruiting office and have heard many stories of bullying in RAF and Navy, but no, it doesn't happen as often as within the Army. I think there is 2 main reasns for this

1. As you say there isn't as much need for the "touhening up" (no disrespect meant there either) although the RAF Regiment and The Marines are very infantry orientated and I would suspect it happens a bit more there, especially the Marines.

2. The RAF especially, can almost pick and choose the best as their recruits, an wastage pre-training is pretty high. Most high calibre youngsters tend to chooe the RAF. The Army now struggles to recruit and unfortunately there are more youngsters reaching recruit training that would never have got there 5 or 10 years ago. Army Recruiting, unfortunately, like a lot of things these days, have quotas and that usually means dropping standards to meet these requirements.

Don't get me wrong, there are still a few great youngsters who choose to join the Army but not as many as before. Another thing that has hit recruiting is doing away with the Regimental system. Each area had there own "Local" Regiment and within that regiment you could find 3 generations of a family serving together. it encouraged the sons of serving oldiers to follow fathers footstps, unfortunately that has been take away.

Suz,

I've certainly not taken offence, you post away and keep the PM's coming. What Regiment was your brother in? Can't quite make out the cap badge but it looks like Royal Scots or KOSB.


Lee!!,

How are you sir?

Glad you like what you've read so far and obviously would love any feedback you can offer. Hope You and your family are wll.

You're right, we are a strange bunch, but not as strange aspoker players eh.


Thanks to everyons for the replies and PM's . Have had a busy weekend but am now on hols for 2 weeks, mostly doing Edinburg festival things.

Now here's a weird coincidence, in one of my posts on bullying I mentioned how I felt I could not comment on the Deepcut suicides. Well, I found out that at the Festival this year there is a show all about this.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2008/aug/02/theatre?gusrc=rss&feed=culture

I will defo go and see this and let you know how I find it.


Geo.

I find this very interesting. Our Parliamentar system actuall employs MP's to bully...........They call them Whips.

Even at the highest level of our society ffs!!

Whip System

Whips are MPs or Peers appointed by each party to maintain party discipline. In a sense they are personnel managers who convey information between party leaders and back bench members. Part of their role, however, is to encourage members of their party to vote in the way that their party would like in important divisions. They are sometimes accused of being too strict in their dealings with Members but this is often exaggerated. Each party in Parliament has found it necessary to have Whips to ensure the smooth running of parliamentary business. In fact they are felt to be so important that the Opposition Chief Whip and two other Opposition Whips are paid a parliamentary salary. All the Government Whips receive a salary. The Commons Whips have offices situated near the Members' Lobby. From here they produce an agenda (also known as the 'Whip') for their party setting out the week's business and how they would like members to vote. Whips also manage the pairing system and often act as tellers during divisions.


And they get paid extra for it.

Geo

A better explanation of a bully Whip

Whips 

Each political party in parliament appoints a team of MPs as whips.
Each of the two main parties will have about 14 MPs appointed to their whips' office.

The smaller parties may only have two or three whips.

There are also smaller teams of whips working in the House of Lords.

Whips have two key tasks: first, by communicating through the "usual channels", they seek to ensure that all parties in the House of Commons are satisfied with its business timetable; second, they are responsible for overseeing their backbench MPs, attempting to ensure that they vote in accordance with the party leadership on important issues.

It is this latter function which is believed to give the whips their unusual name.

It is said to derive from the fox-hunting term "whippers-in" which is given to the rider at the rear of the pack of hounds who cracks the whip in order to keep any straying dogs in line.

Each whips' office sends a weekly note, known as "the whip", to their MPs indicating the level of importance of forthcoming votes.

Key votes on "the whip" will be underlined three times. These are known as "three-line whips" and members must attend.

If the whip is withdrawn as a disciplinary measure, an MP loses membership of their parliamentary party and is no longer sent party voting instructions.

Whips do not take part in debates in either the chamber or in committee, although there is a whip from each main party in the chamber during all proceedings. Each party in Parliament has a chief whip who co-ordinates the work of his team of whips.

 

Truly outstanding thread. Many, many thanks for taking the time to post Geo - every one is perfect.

My parents grew up in the same streets of Pilton during the 50s. Humbling reading.

somewhat amazingly I never actually realised this was where the phrase came from!

Now that IS amazing!

Just read all of this now truly amazing read.I echo the sentiments of others you really could put a great little book together here.

Good to hear.

Best of luck and stay safe mate.

British Army’s secret deal with Militia 

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/iraq/article4461023.ece?token=null&offset=0&page=1

It will be interesting to see how this develops; I’ll therefore keep this short for the moment.

There are 2 things that hit me when I hear this, and judging by some comments made by British Army spokesmen in the news tonight there is quite a bit of truth in it.

I firmly believe we are currently in Iraq for the wrong reasons. I served in the 1st Gulf war and felt justified in being there. Iraq invaded Kuwait, Kuwait requested assistance and quite rightly we responded.

This episode has me asking 2 questions:

1.   Why strike a deal with these militia in order to make our troops safer. Surely if that was their worry they should have had our troops out of there regardless.
2.   I hear from MP’s and especially Prime Ministers the comments of “we will not give in and make deals with terrorists.” Oh yeah, so what was the Good Friday agreement if it wasn’t a deal?

Why were so many terrorists (from both sides) released so you could get what you wanted? Why were so many murderers of civilians as well as military personnel allowed to walk free? Some of these people committed further crimes and ended back behind bars, most famously that nutcase Michael Stone.

Why,  when we had Ken Bigley for example pleading for the then Prime Minister Tony Blair to assist when he was kidnapped in Iraq met with the response “We don’t deal with terrorists” Mr Bigley later lost his head to these morons.

Why, Why, Why, do they continue to ask us all to support them when we can never trust them??

Minor rant over……..discuss (or should that be disgust)

Geo

Geo,

I have only just come onto blonde to catch up on some reading and immediately saw your post, anything with your name attached to it draws me instantly.

I am riveted and very emotional by what you are writing and have only one thing I can say to you, and that is I love you Cuz, I feel truly blessed to have you in my life.

An amazing thread and amazing writing, I look forward to your daily posts.

Mary
xxx

Shouting and Heroes and Awards

When I left the Army I settled into a cosy wee office job, most of my colleagues were great and there was a lot of respect shown to me, I was a bit older than most but also because of my Army background.

I was organised and I found it pretty easy to arrange my days work whilst others would struggle. I spent some time with those who weren’t as organised and gave them a hand and a few tips and gradually the majority of them found it easier to also manage their work. There were a couple who thought they knew better, or worse still would allow you to assist but you’d end up doing most of their work for them and were happy to let you do so. They were soon told to get on their bikes and struggle through.

After about a month in the job the questioning became tedious: “did you kill anyone? did anyone ever shoot at you? were you ever injured in battle? Same people asking the same questions day in-day out. At times I was unsure how to answer theses and certainly unsure as to what their reaction would be should I tell them the truth. It became apparent that a lot of them had no idea about Army life. I would often be told that it must have been a poor way of life for my family. They actually thought that I had to return to camp every night and leave my wife and kids. They didn’t even realise that we had married quarters, soldiers are soldiers, they live in barracks seemed to be the general thoughts.

The most common question asked was “why do soldiers always have to shout at each other?” Obviously they were referring to the many films and TV programmes where they see the soldiers shouting all the time and of course, they are correct, we did shout a lot of the time, in camp or on exercise and of course on operations.

And of course there are good reasons for it. The main reasons are to ensure an order is heard in the heat of battle, it is also designed to get an instant reaction, the correct reaction. Therefore as with anything else we need to practise this. Most commonly it starts with drill.

This is the first thing that a soldier is taught when he joins the Army. It is designed for the soldier to respond quickly and correctly to words of command. It also ensures that the whole section is responding together, that they all understand the commands, and also teaches them timing. For various drill movements there are pauses which must be maintained by all the squad. To see a squad out of sync as they go through drill routines is still one of the funniest things I’ve seen. A bit like watching someone walking down the road not paying attention and they take the “raised paving slab” tumble. We laugh, we know we shouldn’t but we laugh.

This method is carried onto the various other subjects that a soldier learns throughout his career such as weapons lessons. Again we call them drills. The actions required are taught and then repeatedly barked to the soldiers until they all react correctly and each action becomes second nature to the soldier. In the heat of battle, soldiers act instinctively and correctly, because it’s built into them and is practised over and over again.

It’s when something different happens, something not quite by the book, that can often stop a soldier, or section in their tracks. You see, the problem is that we train to always be the victor, no different from sportsmen, no one trains to fail. The fact is quite often not everything goes to plan. Our Infantry works on the principle of 3 to 1. They attempt, whenever, to have a force 3 times the size that of which they are facing.

We have a basic set up of 3 infantry sections to a platoon, 3 infantry platoons to a Company, 3 Infantry Companies to a Regiment and then you will have your support Companies. Fire Support (Mortars-Anti Tank and Reconnaissance.) and Headquarter Company (Signals, Motor Transport, REME and the like.)

If our objective is thought to be defended by a section we will deploy a Platoon, if defended by a Platoon we will deploy a Company. This is the method practised throughout all training, unfortunately today’s operations do not span out in the same way as conventional war. Yet even when we practise for operations in Afghanistan and Iraq we still train as if it was a conventional war. Yes we add on extra Fibua training (Fighting in a built up area) but certainly not enough. Any soldier will tell you that Fibua is the hardest type of fighting of the lot.

So what happens when we are faced with something we haven’t been trained for, what happens when we suddenly find ourselves outnumbered or we just can’t seem to make headways against what we assume is a weaker enemy?

This is when we find our true heroes. The guys who take the initiative: the guys who can see past the training and look for a way out. The guys who will sacrifice their own life so that others succeed. Hero is a word too often used to describe any soldier who has served on operations. I’ve served on operations in Iraq, N Ireland & Bosnia, I’m no hero. I served, nothing special happened, I came home safe and was happy.

You ask any soldier who has gained an award for bravery and he will tell you he’s no hero, he just done his job, he done what he trained to do. I say the opposite, in most cases they didn’t do as they were trained, in effect they disobeyed orders by not waiting for orders from their commanders. They went beyond their training and whilst others racked their brains thinking about what the manual would tell them to do, these guys seen it, knew what had to be done and just got up and done it. It’s not covered in the manual, it’s not taught to you as a recruit. If it goes wrong, you’re in the shit, if you get it right then you deservedly will be rewarded.

Their rewards, although they state for bravery, are more often for showing that extra bit of nounce, that un-teachable thing, that knack, that knowing what you are about to do is correct regardless of what the manual says. The medal says for bravery, does this mean that all his mates around him are not brave? I doubt that. These guys just had that ability to think beyond their training. These guys rarely describe themselves as heroes.

More often than not the medal says “thanks for getting us out of a tight spot, we almost fucked up there.” It happened to us in the 1st Gulf war. One of our platoons had got bogged down and when this happens it is easier for the enemy to locate your positions and increases the chances of accurate fire coming your way. In this instance, whilst the Sgt and Platoon Commander dallied, one of our Private soldiers took the initiative. Seeing that the platoon were coming under sustained accurate fire and could start taking casualties, he attacked one of the nearest trenches, with automatic fire and some white phosphorous grenades he took out the trench and it’s occupants and then directed fire onto further trenches, we gained the momentum and shortly after that we took the position. He was awarded the Military Medal. Also during the conflict two SAS soldiers, Andy (Bravo Two Zero) McNab and Chris Ryan were awarded the Military Medal, again they were put in a position of having to make and fight their way to safety after they had been let down by “higher formations.”

This leads to one of my biggest gripes, the Honours System. As well as servicemen and women we have the likes of firemen, police, ambulance etc who are equally deserving of honours. Some do receive awards but not as often as what I call the “celebrity awards” I have no problem with the awards given out to civilians who have overcome horrific tragedies etc and went on to do good from their experiences, no problems either with the community person who has worked hard within their communities to make a better life for those around them, regardless of ethnicity. We service people also see what we do as a service to the community. In my time in the Army I’ve also had to be a dustman, and a fireman, the emergency services do what they do for the community. It’s the sportsmen, the actors, the public figures. Surely these people get enough as it is.

The honours are given out twice a year, the Queen’s birthday in June and at New Year.

We see all sorts of MBE’s and OBE’s and the like dished out to all sorts of sportsmen and women, to actors and businessmen and women who all make a fortune from what they do. Alex Ferguson – a knight, Steve Redgrave – a knight, Elton fucking John – a knight (should’ve been a dame.) Sean Connery – a knight. The list is huge. For what? Excelling in a sport and putting tunes to songs or prancing about pretending to be a government agent? And before anyone hauls the old chestnut of  “but they also do a lot for charity,” in most cases they do this purely for their own means, it’s actually part of the criteria for “celebrity awards” that they have been involved with some sort of charity.

When I look over each honours list as it is announced I feel nothing but disgust for some who have received and sorrow for others that I know are far better contributors to this country.

Geo.

Another few absolutely stunning posts there Geo.. please keep it up!!

+1 Top read is this great stuff Geo  ;tightend;

Thanks mate,

I go over the thread often to pick up other wee bits I feel worthy of comment and this is one. I had this scenario quite often when I worked in recruiting.

During the sumer months we used to do a lot of KAPE (Keep the Army in the Public Eye) tours. We would gather equipment from all services and we would each set up a stand at the many local Fair or Fete's (no sure about anywhere else but up here we call then Gala Days.) They are huge days for the local communities, they all have their Gala Queens and some lucky young lass is chosen as Gala Queen, usually for a week and the young lady will get to attend all sorts of functions and importantly gets to officially open the Gala Day.

Over the years the forces have had to dumb down their attendance, usually due to the local council stance of not actively recruiting, they see it as a bad thing these days to openly suggest the Services as a career choice. The same thing is happening in the schools. Time was that we would attend most school career evenings and would show the varied careers offered by the forces. Sadly most schools do not let us in as per the reasons given above.

2 stories to relate from this:

1. We had been contacted by one of the high schools in an area called Niddrie, a real tough area and one of the poorest areas in Edinburgh. These areas were generally great hunting ground for us and we were always made welcome there.

The headmaster had told us that they were having some big anniversary bash for the school and part of the celebrations was an open day. They asked if we could supply some tentage and men to erect it and then to oversee the event. He did however ask that we did not bring any of our displays with weapons.

Fair enough, it was agreed that in 4 months time we would suppy the tentage and the personnell. It was arranged that I would accompany the Sgt Major taking charge to the school the following week to speak to the headmaster to discuss what was needed etc. We had a really good meeting and some of the teachers on the committee even expressed dismay that we weren't bringing any of our displays.

The meeting went well and we had all the details we required, however as we were about to leave the headmaster took us aside and quietly said "and I don't think that any of your guys should be wearing uniform, and can you also not use Army trucks to bring in the equipment. The Sgt Major shook his hand saying "well sir, when I return to camp I will call you this afternoon with the number of a tentage firm that will meet all your needs." And at that we left.

2. During one of the gala days I was manning a stand which was displaying the equipment issued and carried by the soldier. An elderly gentleman approached and started asking a load of questions. Soldiers love being asked questions and love to natter, especially on a long day such as a gala day, it hepls pass the time.

Anyway, he points to an item of clothing and asks "What is that jacket for?" I explained that it was the new Goretex waterproof jacket currently issued to the troops, it was waterproof, breathable and far better than any previous waterproof jacket issued. "pfft, it was a plastic poncho in our days, soldiers these days get it too easy" was his reply..........."What kind of boots are they?" he asks pointing to the calf length goretex boots which were then issued. I explained the make up of the boot and that once again they were goretex etc. "huh, when I served wee had the ankle length DMS boot and puttees, a good coat of dubbin was all we needed to keep our feet dry!"

This went on, item after item. After he had finished I kindly asked, "an ex Army man sir, what regiment did you serve in?" his reply was............."well I served in the Transport Corp (think it was RASC then) just after the war, done my National Service, got my licenses and got the hell out of it!!"

I laughed, here was I thinking this was a hardened veteran who was quite within his rights to tell me how it was so much harder in "them days" when in fact he had seen no active service whatsoever.

Geo.

BTW: Apologies for not posting over the last coupla days, however I've been renovating and also been a wee bit poorly. Better now.

Geo

Good to hear you are on the mend Geo....get well soon x

Interestingly enough I was one of those Niddrie kids :-)

Went to Greendykes Primary but we moved when I was 11 and I went to Tynecastle High.

A scary place is Niddrie (or was back then)

Bump.

Waiting for more !!!

Come on Geo ... your readers are getting impatient.

+1

(http://pranksterzette.com/images/waiting.gif)

+2  ;sleep;

 ;slavedriver;

Damn I hate it when this has been bumped and there ain't another insightful read from you Geo,No offence to you "bumpers" just i would put this at number 1 of most interesting reads on here.So come on Sir your public awaits. ;)

I tell you what I fancy a minor rant whilst here, wtf are all these people celebrating some bint with a nose the size of a snow plough, who could only be loved by her mother (and JP) has won some poxy medals ...I am v proud to be English but wtf how much money has been ploughed into homecomings for medal winners compared to people in our forces?????

I always try and make it down to portsmouth walls to watch our boys and girls coming home but the news has been full of bloody olympians getting welcome as if they have been given the medals for saving someones life not for fucking rowing or swimming fast..

Apologies all. Some of you will know I've not been the best lately and added to that, pressures of work has taken up most of my time.

I'm due to go in for an op soon, was told six weeks about 5 weeks ago so am awaiting my letter (absolutely bricking it as I've never been in hospital before.) I should then have a clear 4-6 weeks to catch up.

I have started a few pieces which I keep tinkering with, one which I will post within the next couple of days that takes me back to my first story and I find very disturbing.

Geo

best of luck with the op Geo -  hope it all goes well xx

Will be thinking of you.  xx

compared to your tour of duty in  N.I am sure the hospital will be a piaece of pee for yah

 gl  :)up

I so Lolled at this Ian........if you only knew, am at work, will explain later

geo

ouch

I'm sorry Phat, but shame on you.

This thread-


It's made me think about subjects that are difficult and that I'd rather wash over.

It's moved me to tears.

It's made my chest swell with pride at how our armed forces act.

It's made me embarrassed at how 'we' treat our forces.

It's made me more aware of bullying and it's consequences.

It's made me proud to be British and embarrassed at the same time.

Is outstanding.

Thanks Geo. We're lucky to have shared this. x

This thread has to be best of Blonde.

Appreciate the responses guys and can promise there is a lot to come however time is tight at the moment.

One for you all to ponder. In my first story I explained a difficult period we had with the media and 1 tabloid in particular who ran a story of how my brother and another had supposedly tossed coins to see who was going to lead the patrol in which he was killed, which, as I explained, was total nonsense.

Well guess what, the media ran a story shortly after we buried John Matthews of how he was only leading this patrol as the intended patrol leader had dental problems and John had volunteered to take this patrol.

Now, whether this is true or not is very difficult to prove. The soldier named was a very good friend of John's and indeed was one of the coffin bearers in what was a very emotional day. We have more respect than others and so this subject was not raised with the named individual, however it was discussed with others who were there. they have said this did not happen and in fact, John was one of three SNCO's attached o the Afghan Army as trainers and each had their own section of men who they were training and were responsible for leading on any such patrol. The men that John patrolled with that day we have been informed, were the men he had been training.

Whilst stories like this may glamourise or attempt to gain more respect or whatever for John, no consideration is given by these cretins for the effect such stories have on the named individual. As I said, it matters not if it was true or not, potentially these things happen in life. If it was the case, then this guy would have it on his conscience anyway, why rub salt in the wound. It's yet another example of the heartless way in which the media report on such things.

What was even more disturbing during our conversation was this.

These patrols have been attacked more often in recent times and serious concerns have been raised by the British Commanders due to the fact that despite all their efforts, the terrorists seem to know exactly where and when these guys are going to be patrolling. To let you understand, in Afghanistan it is not the case that the soldiers make their way out on foot and start their patrols from base and can then easily be monitored by the terrorists (this was the case quite often in N Ireland.)

For most patrols, they will leave by vehicle (armoured vehicle/helicopter) and will be dropped off at a point from which they will then commence their patrol. They will then complete their patrol at a given RV and will be picked up again and driven/flown back to base. Foot patrolling from and to a base is very very dangerous and is seldomn done.

The discussion centred around a few incidents that happened a few months ago between the higher formations of the British & Afghan Army. When we first got involved in the training of the Afghan Army and we took them on some operation/patrol, only the British Army higher formations knew the exact details of these patrols, timings/drop-offs/routes/pick ups etc.

Now this has came from a couple of the SNCO's that have been involved in the training.

Earlier this year the Afghan higher formations complained that they were not being kept informed of these operations and wanted to be given more details of future patrols. The British Army officers argued against this as they could not have any guarantee that this info would not be leaked by "plants" within the Afghan forces and at first continued to only give this info to those involved in the operations. the Afghan goverment put pressure on our government to have this info shared with the Afghan higher formations and is usually the case, our government, even knowing the possible implications relented and this info is now shared.

As these SNCO's said, is it any wonder that since then these patrols are being hit more regularly.

It really does beggar believe. Our government are always trumping off at how we should all be supporting our troops, regardless whether we condone them being sent there.

What pisses me well off is the fact that in my 23 years in the Army, I never experienced any lack of support from Joe public, I cannot always say that of my government. As much as some detested her, it wouldn't have happened in Maggies day.


Geo

 :goodpost: ;iagree;

Hope your well Geo?

Just a gentle prod for more of your thoughts Geo. ;hattip;

just found this thread, and really astonished at the courage of Geo to write some of this stuff down.

Hope the operation was a success and you put that extra 2 inches to good use.....

 ;hattip;

LOL, i could do with them Laz...........unfortunately they're gonna lob some off. I have an enlarged prostate (not too serious in itself, it's an old man's thing) and a shruken piss tube. They need to circumsise and then go in and stretch the tube.

You'll probs remember the Billy Connolly sketch about the guy who goes for a piss and it ends up everywhere but the urinal, well that's what I'm going through at the mo. Can be fkin hilarious at times but is becoming really annoying TBH.

Whenever I'm out I tend not to use the urinals and lock myself in the cubicle just to have a piss ffs!!. Also annoying I can never empty the bladder properly so end up visiting the loo more often than I care for, especially when playing poker.

Can't complain too much though, there's no pain and not life threatening so grateful for small merices eh.

I've written quite a bit more but want to wait till after the op so I can go Full  (http://blondepoker.com/index.php?q=node/12206)Tilt (http://blondepoker.com/index.php?q=node/12206) for a week or two.

Great to see you back and look forward to seeing you at Luton.

OP at Edinburgh tomorrow at 1.

Geo.

Finally had my op yesterday, worried over nowt to be honest, in, had the chop and tube straightened and back out of hossy all in 4 hours. The miracle of modern medicine eh. It hurts like hell, however that will only be for a few days. Been given painkillers but I’m not a lover of medicines etc. so take them only when it gets unbearable.

As promised, time to get down a few more thoughts and stories of life as a soldier.  Ironically I start up again on Rememberance Sunday whilst watching the Songs of Praise programme on soldier poets.

It’s very hard putting the horrors and thoughts of war into word, however some of these guys did it amazingly well. This is one of my favourite which I found some time back and recently posted on Tikay’s thread, I make no apologies for posting it here again:



                "Please wear a poppy," the lady said
                And held one forth, but I shook my head.
          Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
               And her face was old and lined with care;
                But beneath the scars the years had made
              There remained a smile that refused to fade.
                                   
                  A boy came whistling down the street,
                    Bouncing along on care-free feet.
                   His smile was full of joy and fun,
                   "Lady," said he, "may I have one?"
                When she's pinned it on he turned to say,
                     "Why do we wear a poppy today?"
                                   
                   The lady smiled in her wistful way
                 And answered, "This is Remembrance Day,
                  And the poppy there is the symbol for
                    The gallant men who died in war.
               And because they did, you and I are free -
                  That's why we wear a poppy, you see.
                                   
                      "I had a boy about your size,
                   With golden hair and big blue eyes.
                  He loved to play and jump and shout,
                   Free as a bird he would race about.
                As the years went by he learned and grew
                  and became a man - as you will, too.
                                   
              "He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
               But he'd seemed with us such a little while
                  When war broke out and he went away.
                   I still remember his face that day
                When he smiled at me and said,  Goodbye,
              I'll be back soon, Mom, so please don't cry.
                                   
                "But the war went on and he had to stay,
                  And all I could do was wait and pray.
                  His letters told of the awful fight,
               (I can see it still in my dreams at night),
             With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
             And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.
                                   
                "Till at last, at last, the war was won-
                  And that's why we wear a poppy son."
                    The small boy turned as if to go,
               Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know.
                That sure did sound like an awful fight,
               But your son - did he come back all right?"
                                   
                  A tear rolled down each faded cheek;
                  She shook her head, but didn't speak.
                    I slunk away in a sort of shame,
              And if you were me you'd have done the same;
               For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
          Thought our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!
                                   
                    And so when we see a poppy worn,
                   Let us reflect on the burden borne,
                    By those who gave their very all
                When asked to answer their country's call
                  That we at home in peace might live.
                Then wear a poppy!   Remember - and give!
                                   
                                              by Don Crawford

Governments

I’ve watched, as I always do at this time of the year, the Cenotaph Rememberance parade. I’ve taken part in many Rememberance parades over the years and it was always a delight. Whilst the parade itself can be emotional watching the old and bold proudly march in respect of fallen comrades, it usually became a day of mild celebration. Celebration that we had the great country that we did, celebration that their efforts had not been in vain. The many stories of bravery and hardship often bring a mixture of laughter and tears.

During this service we then have the laying of the wreaths by the many associations linked to the forces, with each of the wreath layers having their own individual story of the war. We then have the politicians all stepping up and laying wreaths and I find myself thinking that they actually belittle the service, after all these are the very people who for many years now have been seen to have done as much damage to our forces than most.

The last year has especially highlighted the failings of our governments to really support our troops. Lack of equipment due to lack of funding, lack of proper housing due to lack of funding, lack of proper medical care and psychiatric support due to lack of funding.  Major cost cutting since the 90’s which has reduced the strength of our forces whilst we are involved in more conflicts than ever. These are just some, taken from the BBC website:
IRAQ

By far the most high profile UK commitment overseas is Operation Telic - the name given to the deployment of personnel to Iraq.

In plans announced by the prime minister in October 2007, troop numbers were set to be reduced to 2,500 from the spring of 2008. However, on 1 April 2008 Defence Secretary Des Browne announced delays due to an increase in violence in Basra. He said the situation would be under review.
Since the end of the war in April 2003, troops have been helping to restore essential infrastructure and services and provide security.
UK forces are based near Basra Airport in the south of the country.

Some 1,600 troops were withdrawn in 2007 after the completion of Operation Sinbad, which was designed to put Iraqis in charge of Basra's security.

AFGHANISTAN

The UK has almost 8,000 troops stationed in Afghanistan as part of what Prime Minister Gordon Brown has said is a "long-term commitment" in the country.

Most of them are stationed in the volatile southern province of Helmand, where UK forces have been fighting the Taleban.
Their presence is part of a Nato deployment aimed at helping the Afghanistan government maintain security and rebuild the country's infrastructure, following the US-led invasion of October 2001. Nato's International Security Assistance Force (Isaf) mission currently totals about 36,000 troops.

BALKANS

The UK military presence in the Balkans has been significantly scaled back from the peace-keeping and stability roles undertaken in the aftermath of the conflicts of the 1990s.
Now the UK's biggest regional deployment by far is in Kosovo as part of a Nato operation aimed at maintaining public order in the newly independent country, where tensions remain between the majority ethnic Albanians and the Serb minority.

NORTHERN IRELAND

The operational mission of the UK armed forces in Northern Ireland ended in July 2007.
The forces had been actively involved in supporting the police "in the defeat of terrorism and the maintenance of public order".
Some 1,500 troops remain on garrison duty - living and training as they would in any other part of the UK.

GERMANY

Although much smaller than its deployment in Germany at the height of the Cold War, the more than 20,000 UK troops there represent the largest overseas contingent by far.
Germany provides an important base for training, although many of the troops based there have been deployed to Iraq, and others are involved in the Allied Rapid Reaction Corps, of which Britain is the lead nation.

CYPRUS

Although Cyprus has been an independent republic since the 1960s, Britain retains two areas of sovereign territory on the island which it uses as bases for more than 3,000 troops.
Covering 98 square miles (158 square km), the bases are used to give the UK a foothold at a strategic point in the Mediterranean.
In particular, the MoD describes RAF Akrotiri as "an important staging post for military aircraft".

FALKLAND ISLANDS

More than 20 years after the end of the Falklands War, but with the status of the British Overseas Territory still disputed by Argentina, a strong military presence remains on the islands, with more than 1,000 troops stationed there.
Their tasks include road building and mine clearance from the 1982 conflict.

GIBRALTAR

Considered an important base in the Mediterranean, Gibraltar is home to more than 500 British troops.
The MoD says the Rock is "well situated to observe shipping channels through the straits and it could dominate the western entrance to the Mediterranean in time of war".

ASCENSION ISLAND

In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, far-flung Ascension Island was used as a staging post during the Falklands War - a role it retains.
The 40 or so British troops there are linked to the UK by regular flights to RAF Brize Norton and a six-weekly cargo ship from the MoD.

DIEGO GARCIA

The British territory of Diego Garcia, in the Chagos archipelago in the Indian Ocean, has been a military base since the island was leased to the US in the 1970s.
Fewer than 50 British personnel are stationed at the base at any one time.

OTHER, INCLUDING UN MISSIONS

More than 300 British military personnel are deployed in smaller numbers to a wide range of other locations around the world.
UN operations include Sierra Leone, Cyprus, Liberia, Ethiopia and Georgia.
Forces are often sent to short term deployments in emergency situations, such as the 2004 Asian tsunami, when British forces were involved in providing relief including delivering supplies and helping with rebuilding work.
Other overseas deployments include training, exchanges and "loans" to armed forces in countries like Belize, Brunei, Canada, Kenya, Kuwait, Oman and Saudi Arabia.

And there are many, many more of our servicemen and women spread all over the world where there are conflicts, some on observational duties, some as advisors/instructors in places like Kenya, the Congo etc.

The last year especially has seen immense growth in the “Help our Heroes” campaign. This is not a campaign started by any government, this is a campaign driven by ex-servicemen and women and most importantly, you the public. I can tell you now, never have our forces felt so supported by the public than in recent years.

Whilst our government has let us down time and again it is Mr & Mrs civvy who have stepped up to the plate to show their support. Even when the conflict is deemed unjust, Joe Bloggs now recognises that this is not the soldiers doing and whilst not supporting the war, say in Iraq, still support the troops that are sent there. For that I thank you all.

It beggars believe that the politicians who cannot find the odd million to assist our troops when required can suddenly produce Billions to bail out their fat cat friends in the city. All this under the pretence that they are doing it for us. Believe me, Joe public can and would survive any recession.

I am in the camp of we are actually far better off than we tend to think and for the majority of us we live day to day way beyond our means and if needs be we could tighten the purse strings and survive any recession.

Geo.

Ghurkas

I was very glad to see that the Ghurkas won the right to remain in Britain after they finished service with the Army. They are brilliant soldiers and have been loyal servants for many years. When my unit was stationed in Colchester for 3 years we had a platoon of Ghurkas with us for the period and they were superb. I found it ridiculous that these guys could be treated like this.

There are many stories of Ghurka bravery and loyalty to this country and what I found even more annoying was that for the last ten years or so, the Army has been recruiting from Fiji. This all began when a military band from the Fijian Army performed at the Edinburgh Tattoo. During their stay some of them found that because Fiji was a commonwealth country that they could apply to join the British Army and so a number of them did.

The differences are amazing, the Fijians, by and large are lazy and indisciplined. The only real attribute they have brought is their size and their ability to play Rugby, in fact the year before amalgamtion my Regiment, The Royal Scots had one of the best Rugby teams in the Army and indeed the 7’s side won most of the prestigious 7’s tournament.  A Scottish Regiment, doing well at rugby? Well they were all Fijian’s. Our Regiment had close to 100 Fijian’s in their ranks.

One thing they both have in common however is the fact that both Ghukas and Fijians are from a race that still maintains a caste system and indeed we have seen many disputes within Army Regiments who have Fijians where some have refused to take orders or serve under others from lower castes who have been promoted above them, something that wasn’t considered by the Army bosses whilst being so eager to recruit them to attempt to assist with the shortfall in numbers.

Whilst I was a recruiter in Edinburgh the caste system was brought to my attention whilst speaking to some Indian/Pakistani lads at a careers evening in Leith. Until then I had no idea that this system existed within some races/religions. These lads taught me that depending on their family name/caste they were expected to take up certain occupations. Those deemed of lower caste could be soldiers, bus drivers etc. Others of slightly higher caste could be shopkeeper/owners and the higher castes would be the doctors/lawyers  and Army Officers etc.  As you can see this would have a massive effect when trying to recruit other ethnic origins to the Forces.

There was actually a move at one time for the British Army to set up a Sikh regiment which was shelved, it seems, after pressure from the PC brigade. It appears that the community leaders had thought it a good idea, after all there were many Sikh regiments that fought and died with our own during both world wars.
Some interesting reading here:

http://www.allaboutsikhs.com/sikh-warriors/sikhs-in-british-armed-forces.html
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/1555507/Sikh-regiment-dumped-over-racism-fears.html

The caste system seems to work well within the Ghurka regiments, they run it themselves, they all seem to accept their place. However, as I’ve said we have had problems with the Fijians as they are in non-caste regiments who do not work on and probably weren’t even aware of the caste system and the problems it would cause.

Fijians only have to serve for, I think, 4 years in the Army before being allowed to remain in the UK so why should the Ghurkas have been any different. Give me a platoon of Ghurkas ahead of the Fijians any day. Ghurkas are disciplined, respectful and loyal and thoroughly deserve the support they are now being given.

Ghurka companies are usually led by a British Army officer (A Queens Ghurka Officer) and any British Officer being appointed a QGO accepts the post with honour and in turn are highly respected by the Ghurkas who serve under them.

One of my favourite Ghurka stories comes from one of the wars. A Company of Ghurkas had came under attack from some Germans holed up in a farmhouse. They duly overran the position and secured the area. The QGO gave the order to remove all German bodies from the farmhouse and bury them in a mass grave.

During the burial a single shot rang out and the officer approached the scene to be informed that whilst dumping the bodies one of the Germans had groaned and was seen to still be alive and that one of the Ghurkas had shot him dead. “Why did you shoot him?” asked the officer...........”Because , sir, you ordered them to be buried and I wasn’t going to bury a man alive” was the answer.

Geo

Geo you said the PM expects the Afghanistan deployment to be a long term fixture. How long do you think it'll be before we withdraw??

Do you think the situation has improved greatly since we have put troops in Afghanistan??

From an outside perspective it doesnt seem to have improved at all- I wouldn't be surprised if in 15-20 years down the line we still have soldiers over there fighting the Taleban.

Oh and I agree with the Ghurka thing- how can fighters from another country basically fight our cause with honour and pride and not be given residence! I know our cause is now more seen as a global Cause now but in essence they are still fighting for our country.

Appreciate the questions mate.

Geo

No worries mate- just intrigues me as to where we'll be in 20+ years and what life will be like on this planet for my kids. Sad to say I dont think there will be an end to war in my lifetime(maybe even anybodys???)

This is my thread of year,was great to meet you Geo top man keep the posts coming  ;)

Thanks Ray, great to meet you also. I quite fancy the team event at your end, can you confirm ligit?

Geo

Don't know the guy mentioned have heard of newcastle poker forum,that's who's doing it yeah, should be good laugh hope you can make it

(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/flanders.jpg)

RIP and thank you.

(http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/45193000/jpg/_45193966_vet_466i.jpg)

Appreciated guys.

Geo

Northern Ireland & the IRA – Part 1
This has actually been one of the hardest pieces I’ve written so far. It’s some of my experiences and thoughts on Northern Ireland. I am well aware that there are blonde members from both sides of the divide and hopefully you will see that my intention is not to take sides, I did mention earlier that there were no winners in conflicts such as this. Northern Ireland, in my opinion ended up only benefitting the money men in the end.

As a soldier you soon learn to respect an enemy that is organised and well prepared, treat them with contempt and your troops will suffer. This is what happened for a while in Northern Ireland, the UK government underestimated the IRA and it’s capabilities at first whilst the IRA grew stronger, more intelligent and ultimately probably the most organised terrorist group in the world.

I spent a total of 7 years serving in Northern Ireland, from my first 6 month stint in Belfast 1979 to my final tour in 1996 at Bessbrook Mill.  I will tell you now it contained some of my best times in the Army and I met so many great people, Catholic & Protestant alike.

Belfast 1979 found me as an 18 year old stationed at Moyard barracks on the Whiterock end of the Springfield Road. The locals still called it New Barnsley police station as that is what it was prior to the Army moving in and turning it into the fortress that they called Moyard. One of the interesting things about this place was that there was actually a derelict block of flats contained within the perimeter, at the top of which we had an observation post. I still remember the late night traipse up the stairs to the OP at the top of the flats being the scariest thing ever encountered at that stage.

Once you were above the height of the perimeter fence you were open to the elements and your progress up the many flights could be monitored easily by anyone watching. We used to dash up the stairs and stop at the top for 5-10 minutes to recover before taking over the sentry duties there.

 Sangar duty was so boring, especially in the early hours, after all Mr terrorist liked to sleep also and movement was scarce in the quiet hours as any movement of traffic at that time of day was almost certain to be stopped and searched so it was highly unlikely that any movement of terrorists or equipment would occur during these times. Sangars, for most soldiers, were a place of masturbation and letter writing and whilst soldiers where often searched for reading and writing material prior to going “on stag” there was always a stash to be found.

One morning I was making my way to the OP accompanied by the corporal responsible for the change over and got to the final flight of steps that took me to the hatch from which we entered the OP. At the bottom of the steps you would call out that you were coming up, this was actually usually an early wake up call for the off coming sentry as too often they were caught sleeping and would be severely punished.

I was taking over from a mate of mine Jake Allan. “Jake, it’s Dicky mate” shouts I, “ok mate, up you come” was the reply as the hatch was lifted. As I made my way up the final ladder-like set of steps I placed my hand on the rail for support...........”Fuck sake, some dirty bastards been spitting out the hatch!” shouts I as I remove a wet and sticky palm from the rail.....”ha, ha” is the reply from Jake “sorry mate, that’s not spit” says he. Jake was a notorious masturbator and would quiet openly give himself a thrash in the dark with others attempting to sleep in the same room. More of Jake and his thrashing to come in stories of time with the Royal Guard at Balmoral later.

In those early days the equipment was pretty basic, a couple of maps some panoramic photos with the abodes of some local undesirables and places of note marked on it, a pair of Binos and a scrapbook of mug shots of known activists. The camp at Moyard was pretty basic, however whilst we were there completion of Fort Whiterock which became the largest Army base in Belfast was to be completed.

The Tactical Area of Responsibility (TAOR) for our platoon during this period were the notorious schemes of Ballymurphy, Turf Lodge and New Barnsley.  These schemes were the heart of everything IRA in the 70’s and 80’s. Ballymurphy and Turf Lodge along with the Ardoyne (which I would visit later in my time) were by far and away the three strongholds of IRA activists and indeed some parts definitely no-go areas which would not be entered with anything less than a company’s strength.

There was no “getting on” with the locals here, we were despised and more so, no local could be seen to show any act of friendliness towards us for fear of punishment. Kids would spit and throw stones, we would walk into a completely empty street at 5 in the morning and suddenly it would be alive. Firstly the front doors would open and the dogs would be snarling around you, many dogs were actually shot by soldiers in fear of being attacked by one of theses beasts.  During our time there my patrol adopted a stray, a white cross lab/Alsatian type that would come on patrol with us and with him there he would see off any beast that would come near us, making our lives that wee bit easier.

We spent about 3 months at Moyard before we moved into Fort Whiterock or the “candlestick factory” as we called it, can only assume it was a candlestick factory prior to the Army building the base there. This was different class compared to where we had come from, sangars where comfortable and with all the latest gadgets including night vision equipment which was a wonderment to a young lad like me, not only night image but thermal image also. Suddenly sangars weren’t so boring, albeit seeing more of nature’s animals than terrorists in action.

The scrapbooks of mug shots were more like portfolios with some amazing up to date shots of known players which set the mind boggling on how they were taken. These were Army mug shots of these guys in pubs, bookies and even in their own homes, some high powered lenses or some very brave men obviously used to gain a lot of these images. We take it all for granted now what with modern technology and advances in photography but in the 70’s.......wow.
Fort Whiterock brought me my first real taste of fear, sure before we had been hit by stones, attacked by dogs, even got into the odd scuffle with some nut who took unkindly to being stopped and questioned. The players themselves never gave you grief whenever you stopped them. They new what you could ask, answered only these questions, generally politely and went on their way. Some of these guys would easily be stopped upwards of 10-15 times a day and accepted it, got it done and went on their way, it was the days that you didn’t see these guys that would worry you.

It took us a while to realise also that whilst they were patiently answering your questions, they were taking everything in, what our movements were, what equipment we carried, anything new? What is it? What positions did we take up. Often they would ask us as many questions......lol.

Every time these guys were stopped it was an information gathering exercise for them. We had one of our lads came back from a patrol one day as white as a sheet. He had stopped and questioned a known activist in Ballymurphy, asked the normal questions..........Name, D.O.B, address, where you been, where you going that sort of thing. At the end of the questioning, he released the guy and thanked him for his patience. The reply stunned him.............”thank you, and I hope you get home to Moira ok”...................Moira was the soldiers wife’s name and this guy knew it. It really put the shitters up him and it would more than probably have been an innocent conversation he had with a mate whilst on patrol that let this piece of info slip.

It was a sunny morning as we left Fort Whiterock that day, out of one of the many entry/exit gates around the camp perimeter and we headed out, down Whiterock Road and into Turf Lodge patrolled through there and into Ballymurphy. A few cars stopped and searched, a few people questioned. Nothing out of the ordinary, a bit of abuse and stone throwing, just a normal days patrolling.

After about an hour and a half we headed back to camp. You never, ever used the same entry point into the camp as you had used to exit and so we made our way to the rear gates of Whiterock, patrolled through an empty school playground, it was either weekend or holidays, can’t remember which and started to cross a large playing field. We had 3 teams, 1 up (forward) 2 behind.

I was in the forward team and we had radioed for the gate to be opened and where about to take to ground prior to “skirmishing” into camp. You never walked in or out of camp, it was always a dash out, take up covering positions until all the patrol had left base then you would patrol on, always with “a foot on the ground “ in other words one team at any time would be static, giving cover to the other teams as they progressed, then one of them would go firm and in effect patrolling was very much a leapfrogging exercise.

As we approached the rear gates and before making our way off the playing field, the ground in front of us began to rip open, as you see at times in films, bullets were strafing the ground in front of us. We could hear the distant rumble of the breach explosions from the gun being fired. We were under attack from the then notorious Ballymurphy gun team. At the time there was reckoned to be at least 2 if not 3 gun teams operating from the area. Armed with an M60 machine gun and various other side weapons, Armalite and Garand for example.

We immediately sprung into defence mode, finding the little cover there was and then trying to locate where the shooting had come from. This was made all the more harder as luckily for us, the rounds had fallen short. Soldiers are taught to locate gunfire locations through a simple method we called crack and thump. If you are shot at, (and as long as the bullet goes passed you) you will hear a loud cracking noise as the bullet passes, this noise is produced by the bullet passing aside the air at high speed, the air then meets again with a loud cracking noise, almost like a clap.

The thump is the noise from the breech explosion when the firing pin of the weapon detonates the cartridge and explodes the gunpowder to fire the round. The thump will give you an idea of the area and the crack can be used to give an approximate distance. By listening to the crack and then counting the gap between the crack and thump it is estimated that every second between them equates to approx. 100 yards. So if there was a five second gap between crack and thump the approx distance to the weapon would be 500 metres.

All we had was the thump to go on and it was leading us to the area of Turf Lodge, just past the junction of Whiterock & Springfield Roads. We made our way there at speed, inevitably knowing they would already be long gone. As we approached it was fairly easy to identify the area quickly as all the locals were out shouting and cheering and dancing about. A lot of this was to delay us ensuring a safer getaway for the activists.

We soon Identified the house that the shooting had taken place from and then proceeded to search all houses either side and questioning everyone around as to what they had seen. As usual, lots of people around but no-one knew anything. As was procedure we would never enter the actually building where the event had taken place for fear of booby traps and also to preserve for the forensics people.

The quick follow up carried on for an hour or so and then we were withdrawn to cordon positions to allow the various agencies to come in and do their stuff. I learnt very quickly that when you were taking positions in cordons and such like, always to ensure there were people around, in effect using them as a safety net. If the locals are hanging around that area then you’re almost guaranteed it is safe from secondary devices.

We then went about our business, checking for casualties (thankfully none that day) checking we had not dropped or lost any our equipment and then individually being taken to give statements to the RUC as to the events and our own subsequent actions. It may seem strange to some, however our actions were looked over just as strenuously as the acts of any terrorist during these incidents.

It was after this that I then had a period of quietness, the area was saturated with troops and was deemed safe, the quartermasters staff cam round with Norgie containers of tea and soup and it was then that I had my first opportunity to reflect on my first active engagement and it wasn’t nice. Whilst the adrenalin had kicked in and we went about our business, no thoughts were given to the closeness of death we had just gone through.

Suddenly as the adrenalin subsided and I started to reflect I found myself shaking all over, almost as I would imagine someone going cold turkey after a huge drug rush. I found it hard to speak for a wee while and kept going over things in my head:

What if ?– they had waited another 10 or 15 seconds before letting rip, they certainly would have caught some of us.

What if? – I had been injured or killed, who was going to tell my girlfriend (now my wife of 28+ years) who is going to look after her? Tricia stayed with her mother at the time but I still felt responsible for her, we were childhood sweethearts sort off, I was 15 Tricia 14 when we first started going out.

What if? – When we first responded to the incident and I ran past the house (as I should) and up the alley and my “buddy” had decided to stop at the house to have a good gander, leaving me faced with about 10 screaming IRA supporters, would I have done if they had decided to set about me? Luckily they only abused me and threw the odd object at me and I managed to back out of the alley to join some of the others.

But that’s life I suppose, it’s just full of what if’s? I frequently do this, look back at situations over my lifetime some connected with Army life, others not and ask myself What if?

And I always give myself the same answer:

Does it matter anymore? It’s the choice I took, the decision I made at the time.............just live with it.

Geo

Great read Geo.

More, more, more.

Tremendous read George.Both my cousin and my brother inlaw were in the army and i've never even discussed what they went through. So its good to get an insight into what went on.

Nothern Ireland and the IRA – part 2

27th August 1979.

I am in Victoria Barracks in Ballater near Balmoral as part of the Royal Guard. Each year the Queen spends some time at the Balmoral estate, during which time a company of soldiers spend 3 months  there not, as most expect, to provide protection for the Royal Family and their visitors but to carry out a number of what I always considered “non-soldier” tasks.

We supplied a “pony platoon” a group of soldiers who previously had been sent off to learn about looking after horses in order that they could take care of the fleet of ponies which were taken to the estate. These ponies were generally used to bring the deer down from the hills after having been hunted.

We also supplied walking ghillies, in effect gun and haversack carriers for the Royals and their visitors and we all, at some stage, took part as beaters, chasing out the Grouse  on shoots. I was one of the walking ghillies, whilst it could be pretty boring I had some interesting days doing this. More about that in later stories.
The significance of today was that it was the day the IRA blew up Lord Mountbatten in his boat at Mullaghmore. This obviously made all the headlines for the next few days up until the state funeral was held for Mountbatten.

However, on this day there was another incident, one which was the IRA’s biggest success throughout the whole campaign – Warrenpoint – in which a total of 18 servicemen lost their lives. To many it was a fairly simple case of a lorry being laden with 700lbs of explosive hidden in hay bales and detonated as a convoy carrying members of the Parachute Regiment passed. A subsequent secondary explosion then added to the casualties.

To others, including myself, it was one of the best pieces of planning, setting up and execution of an attack ever seen, not only in this conflict but of any conflict anywhere in the world.

This attack was so well planned, I had mentioned earlier that most of the known activists rarely gave you grieve when they were stopped in the street. They would use this opportunity to gain as much information as possible. How we patrolled, what actions we would take when stopping, what equipment we carried, was there anything new?  What was it? On many occassions during house searches we found various notes that had been made on patrols: Routes in and out of bases, numbers in patrols, equipment carried (including sketches of new equipment) positions taken up during patrols etc.

At a higher level this was all being collated by the IRA chiefs and when they put it all together they came up with their plan for Warrenpoint. After the attack at Warrenpoint the Army were forced to totally rethink their drills and reactions to incidents of this kind, this was a real pain as it meant we all had had to be re-trained which meant more time away from home, time which was limited and precious, time that today’s soldiers have even less of.

For the Warrenpoint attack the IRA had studied many incidents and in fact had staged a number of smaller  incidents, not so much to kill and maim but to have scouts in the area to monitor the response of the Armed forces: What postions did they take up?  where did they set up their Incident Control Point?  where did they place their cordons? What were the routes taken in and out of the ICP? What were the reaction times of the follow-up agencies? And many many other considerations. They then set about a plan which ultimately was very clever and produced their greatest result in the conflict.

They practised themselves in the drills that the Army soldier used, they then set about looking for a place where they could set up the ideal scenario that they could then use the Army’s own drills to their advantage. I’d imagine they must have studied many different locations until they found this area at Narrow Water Castle.
They had found a position on a main route used by the Army that could be set up for the perfect response to an attack on the armed forces.

Whilst most of the troop movement to and from the south of the country was done by helicopter, the Army still quite regularly used this route to transport troops in soft skinned vehicles. On this day a Parachute Regiment convoy of 4 ton trucks led by a land rover where passing by a flatbed lorry loaded with hay bales,  as the last truck passed the flatbed, the IRA set off one of the first ever radio controlled devices used in the province. This totally destroyed the truck, killing 6 of the Paras outright.

Army drills then kicked in, the convoy stopped, troops took cover and then began to try and locate the enemy. There was a bit of a firefight with the soldiers firing across the border to suspected firing locations with a civilian, ironically the son of one of the queen’s coachmen who was on holiday, being killed by the troops. It is now generally thought that there was no gun attack and infact where the soldiers believed they were being shot at, was actually ammunition exploding from within the destroyed truck.

The soldiers then settled into their follow up routine, they could not do a follow up pursuit across the border so set about securing the area. One of the first tasks was to find a suitable location for the Incident Control Point (ICP.) The perfect position was presented to them in the form of the gatehouse of Narrow Water Castle. It afforded good cover with a large surrounding wall, it gave good access and an area for all the vehicles  and personnell who would soon be swamping the ICP as various agencies reported in and it also supplied a good area to move the casualties to in preparation of medivac.....................It also provided the IRA with an amazing target which they had hoped and prepared for.

Within 20 minutes the place was swarmed with support troops, one of which was the Commanding Officer of the Queens Own Highlanders who had arrived by helicopter. It was at this point that the IRA initiated what they had set up the whole thing for, a much larger device that had been buried at the gate house which took out 12 others including the CO and his helicopter.

Due to the furore and blanket media coverage of the death of Mountbatten at the time, this incident was a mere footnote in the days media. On the day of the state funeral for Mountbatten,  there were 6 other funerals for troops who lost their lives in the attack, hardly a mention was given.

The Army had been given a severe lesson this day, all their practices and drills used against them and the IRA could not have hoped for a better result. Throughout our time in Northern ireland we were always playing catch up. The IRA had previously used command wires and so we had to adjust our methods to avoid or detect them. They then introduced Radio Controlled Improvised Explosive Devices (RCIED’s) which forced us to look for Electronic Counter Measures (ECM), they improved on this and we had to be continually upgrading our ECM and these became known as Electronic Counter Counter Measures (ECCM.)

With the introduction of RCIED’s it meant that the operator didn’t have to be at the line end of the device and this made it so much harder for the forces to gather evidence and also lessened the chance of capture during the follow up.

A difficult day for the Army and obviously a great day for the IRA.................at times you just have to stand up from the table and say:

GG WP.

Geo.

A very refreshing series of posts Geo.

Too often wars are simply reduced to 'good guys v bad guys', resulting in warped, one-sided views of conflicts. This is particularly true of Americans - I'm reminded of the fuss caused by comments made by Bill Maher (US talk show host) who, in the aftermath of 9/11, said that he disagreed with the commonly said comment that the hijackers were 'cowards'. They could be called a lot of negative things, but they were never cowards - hijacking a plane and flying it into a skyscraper, knowing you'll die in the crash, is not the act of a coward - it takes guts. He lost his job and was made a pariah.

Sun-Tzu probably said something like 'not respecting your enemy puts you on the path to defeat'. No doubt that the experience gained from fighting the IRA in Northern Ireland has helped save British soldiers lives out in Iraq and Afghanistan, experience the Americans don't have (as none of the serving troops will have actually fought a ground war against an enemy armed with anything more than rocks).

An interesting read Geo, your assessment of Warrenpoint matches that of books I've read on the 'Troubles'. Although there's a feeling that while militarily a 'great day' for the IRA, Warrenpoint & the Mountbatten killing being in the early days of Thatcher's leadership were a test for her & her hardline attitude from then on was at least in part precipitated from the 2 attacks & lengthened the conflict as until Thatcher moved on there was no negotiation & the alleged shoot to kill policy.

Geo, can I ask what your opinion is, as an army man, on people like Iain Thain & Lee Clegg, who having been convicted of murder, were quite soon after pardoned & welcomed back into the Army?

Thanks for the reply Andrew.

I would never consider them cowards, much like people who commit suicide whether it be medical or mental reasons that have driven them to this but whose families live with the taunts of "it was a cowardly thing to do." I cannot think of anything less cowardly than to take one's own life or forsake that life for another.

In my opinion, and from my experiences working with American troops, they lack respect for other nations. They tend to go with the mentality of "we are America, the greatest power on this earth (debatable), we have more resources and manpower and we will use it."

History has shown too often, as you state, that if you do not respect your enemy, understand their ways of working and their capabilities and aslo in my opinion your own failings then you will struggle.

America led us into the 2nd Iraq war and they did it their way.The British troops went in with the hearts and minds methods that had led to a lot of success in N.I. (see later response to Rod's questions.)

I believe that latterly our troops suffered in Basra due to the continual mis-management of the conflict in other parts of Iraq by the US troops. The British Troops where almost wholly responsible for tasks in Basra and after the initial invasion they received a good response from Iraqi's in the area. I can't deny that at times some of our troops may well have over stepped the mark but I do know that anyone proven to be doing so would be punished.

However, as the Brits built up a decent rapport with the people in Basra, the Americans were not doing the same. This along with the fact they were finding softer targets within Basra was used by some of the Iraqi groups to re-generate attacks against the British forces there.

The inevitable happened, we had too few troops to cope and we withdrew back to base, limited our patrols and concentrated on the training of the Iraqi Army.

Should we have been there in the first place? imo no, but anyone with any sense recognises that.

Geo

Thanks Rod,

I'm not totally convinced that these events did have any effect on how Thatcher dealt with N.I.

It's well documented that she had her own ideas (not just on N.I.) and that she stuck by these. The shoot to kill theory had been taken up long before Thatcher came to power. Whether it existed within the higher echelons of British forces and RUC I haven't a clue, to me it's another conspiracy theory that may never truly be solved.

Were there activists that were "taken out?" I think I'd be foolish to say there wasn't, however at what level these decisions were taken and with whose collusion and who actually carried these out would be difficult to tell. This relates to all groups involved in the conflict. What makes it all the harder is that no matter what side you listen to or read up on, you will always receive a blinkered view.

There have been a few articles by individuals claiming to have been involved in these operations, however I only ever see these when the individual is facing punishment for offences and in effect make claims that they were acting with assistance from government or government officials and can't help thinking they do this in an attempt to lessen any forthcoming sentence, I may just be too cynical.

What may amaze a lot of people but no doubt you will be aware of, there was actually a lot of collusion between rival factions when it was deemed good for both sides that a certain individual from either side should be taken off the scene.

I truly believe we reached the Good Friday Agreement due to increasing lack of support for the IRA, not because all these politicians worked so hard behind the scenes. Too many atrocities, by both sides, the Loyalist support also waned.  A lot of the top chiefs within these organisations became more involved in organised crime (Slab Murphy being one of the most high profile ones) which was made so much easier for them due to the power they held. To this end I believe it was the hearts and minds of the good people from both sides which helped this through as opposed to any great work by the politicians.

Then again, we can only hope it remains as there have been a few murmurs that all is not as good as Joe public are being led to believe.

The Thain and Clegg cases:

Thanks for  the info on Thain I wasn’t aware of the case and I’ve replied to  you by PM.  I’ll have a good look through this and respond separately at a later time.

The Clegg case I know pretty well.

He was convicted of the murder of a young lass who had been joyriding, with others, one of whom also died, in a stolen car whilst joyriding.

From what I know of the case:

His initial defence was that he had thought that the car had been driven at another soldier and had thought the car had hit the soldier. The prosecution's case was that the final shot deemed to have killed her was fired after the car had passed and that they were no longer a threat. He was convicted and sentenced to life.
At his appeal his defence was that there was evidence that the bullet had entered the side of the car and that the car hadn't passed when the fatal shot was fired.

At the appeal no conclusive evidence could be given by either party as to whether the shot entered from the side or the rear of the vehicle and as his conviction had been on the fact that it was considered that it was after the car had passed, the initial verdict was deemed unsafe and he was cleared.

As he was cleared, in all honesty the Army would have been hard pressed not to allow him to continue service as in the eyes of the law he was not gulity. Not allowing him to serve again would ultimately lead to a challenge from Clegg.

Here is my take on it:

In 1979 we had a similar incident in Andersontown when one of our soldiers was driven at whilst attempting to stop a car, he had to dive out of the way to avoid being hit and a number of shots were fired. None of those in the car were injured, however one of our own lost an eye after he was hit by a ricochet.
When the car came to a halt and the occupants were apprehended it became obvious that they had stolen the car and were joyriding, had panicked and tried to avoid the vehicle checkpoint.

After an extensive investigation, no charges were levelled at the soldiers who had fired that day as in effect, the rules of engagement at the time were a bit ambigious and the soldiers' defence was that the vehicle was being used a weapon by driving straight at the soldier.

After this and a couple of similar incidents we were briefed that a car avoiding a checkpoint did not give rise to firing a weapon to bring it to a halt being allowed. This was stressed in all subsequent lessons on rules of engagement that I ever attended and would not have been any different in Cleggs day.

A scenario often used during these lessons is:

You are on patrol and a gunman appears from a side street and shoots and kills one of your patrol, he immediately drops his weapon and makes off, can you shoot him?

The answer is no as he is no longer a threat and to shoot him to stop him from fleeing would be deemed as using unreasonable force. In all these latter lessons it was stressed that a vehicle breking through a checkpoint did not in itself warrant the use of weapons as a means to stopping the vehicle.

In Cleggs  case, even if he did think that a fellow soldier had been hit, it had happened and they were trying to flee. IMO he should not have fired. The case and subsequent evidence used to convict him was actually incorrect as far as I am concerned, the argument should not have been whether the shot was fired from the front, side or rear. The argument should purely have been whether he was entitled to use the force he did, my feeling is that he should not have.

It was the prosecutions failure to use this in an attempt to get conviction that allowed his appeal and subsequent release.

We had one of ours who was convicted of passing info and mug shots to a member of a Loyalist group. In reality, she was a soldier in the UDR who he was knocking off during a tour at Girdwood Park. He maintained that she had actually lifted these when she visited him in his room at camp one evening.

He was convicted and sentenced but returned to the unit at a later date. We were aghast and very dissapointed that he had been allowed to return, one of the biggest things for a soldier is to be able to trust those you work with. We couldn’t do this with him even though he had been a good mate to many. He subsequently left our regiment and transferred to a Corp.

As a footnote, it’s interesting also that the IRA and some Loyalist groups, in an effort to stop joyriding actually carried out punishment shootings on youngsters who would do this, and I believe they still do.

Geo

This thread is without a doubt my favourite on the forum ... superbly written and fascinating.

+1

Keep them coming Geo, hope the war wound is healing nicely  :)up

The Royal Guard

Each year the Queen spends a couple of months at the Balmoral estate on Royal Deeside in Aberdeenshire. During her time there she entertains all sorts of guests, from Heads of State, heads of business from across the world and showbiz and sports personalities.

Why they call it the Royal Guard is a mystery as we do not actually guard any of the Royal Family during this time, it’s all done by special branch and SAS types.

In 1979 I first found myself as part of the Royal Guard and moved up to Victoria Barracks in Ballater. We generally moved up 3 to 4 weeks before the Queen was due to arrive during which time some went off to be taught how to look after the Queen’s ponies and became part of the pony platoon.

Others, including myself where responsible for camp security and at times sent up to the Balmoral estate to carry out various tasks which included walking ghillies as previously mentioned and also as beaters on the Grouse shoots. Whilst not doing any of this we all had to attend Scottish Country dancing lessons, usually held on the main square of this smallest of camps, it certainly made for great entertainment for the many tourists who would visit Ballater at this time and would pop by the camp to watch all us two left-footers struggle through the dances.

The only reason for this dance training was that during her stay the Queen would host 2 “Ghillies balls” for the soldiers and members of the household staff. Basically two parties, one at the beginning and one at the end of her stay. They were fancy events with great food and lots of drink, however as you can imagine, the Snco’s would keep an eye on any of us deemed to be partaking in a little too much and becoming potential embarrassment and have them removed.

Whilst the Queen was in attendance it was always the Scottish Country dancing which went on. Later in the evening once the Royals had left, a disco would start up and the Jocks took this opportunity to get to know the household staff a wee bit better.

It was during this time at Ballater that I had one of the experiences of my lifetime. I arose one morning, washed, shaved and began to prepare for the days camp duties. The duty Sergeant paraded us outside the barrack block to distribute the days tasks and today I was informed that I was going up to the castle to be a walking ghillie for the day. Until then I hadn’t a clue what this entailed, however I was quickly informed that I would basically be a gun bearer and pack carrier for some old fart who was a guest of the Queen and would escort them and one of the actual estate ghillies as they wandered the hills looking for a stag to shoot.
At this point it is only fair to mention that this is all actually part of the annual cull in order to maintain the herds of deer on the estate. The ghillie decides which animal to choose and he does this by age, health etc.

These guys are amazingly talented on all things nature and reading some of Red Dog’s tales takes me back to the many times I had sat and listened in awe to some of the stories told by these guys. What a lot of people don’t tend to understand is that these guys know the importance of all the animals on the estate, they don’t just kill for the fun of it, they do it because it is necessary to maintain the estate to it’s best.

Another important thing about these guys is that they would never allow anyone that they thought was not capable, take a shot at any animal. Their worst case scenario is actually that an animal is not killed outright and have indeed spent days on end searching a wounded animal to put it out its misery. To be on one of these visits and only wound an animal is considered as one of the worst things ever and anyone so doing would never, ever be offered a return visit.

I made my way to the castle with the rest of the soldiers going up that day and we all waited outside the front of the castle. One of the household staff came out and started allocating us to the waiting ghillies. I was placed with a gentleman by the name of Willie Potts.  I was to learn later that Willie was one of the Royal Family’s favourites on the estate. He still works there although no longer as a gamekeeper or ghillie.

He introduced himself with a firm handshake and a huge grin with the words...”it’s your lucky day today young man, you’ll be escorting Her Majesty herself .”  I could’ve shit a brick; my arse was that loose at the thought that I’d we wandering this glorious estate in the presence of Her Majesty.

There was a line of odds and sods Land Rovers outside the castle, mostly soft tops and a couple of fancy stretched hard tops that could sit about eight or nine passengers, nice shiny jobbies in a glossy Army green. Willie led me to the first of the fancy Land Rovers. “Right young man, we’ll make our way to.......(can’t remember the name of the place he mentioned) and from there we’ll walk the hills, all that is required of you is that you carry the haversacks, Her Majesty will carry her own gun.” He pointed out the 4 haversacks, large tan canvas items with shoulder straps.

“They all hold the same items, we have one each” says Willie.
With there being 4 haversacks, I wondered who the lucky visitor was that would be accompanying us, I didn’t have long to find out. In a short while, the Queen approached, accompanied by Prince Charles. They had a quick word with Willie and then the Queen turns to me. “Have you been on the estate before soldier?” By this I assumed, probably correctly, that she meant had I done the walking ghillie bit before. “No your Majesty, this is my first time, I’m really looking forward to it” was my reply. “Well we certainly have a fine day for it” was her reply as she turned and got into the drivers seat.

With a movement of his head, Willie directed me into the back of the Land Rover where he was already seated and Charles got into the passenger seat. Then we were off. Can it get any better than this? Not only was this awestruck youngster going to be in the company of the Queen all day, I was also being driven by probably the world’s highest paid chauffeur!!

Apparently, at that time, the Queen done all her own driving when on the estate, she was rated a very good driver and I was reminded of the pictures I had seen of her driving trucks during the war. The Queen was also rated as a very good shot and was one of the few who would not use an optical or telescopic sight, preferring instead to use the iron sights. On this day unfortunately, I wasn’t going to see the great lady in action, whilst we did sight many deer that day, none were deemed suitable for culling.

After a drive of about an hour we parked up at an old wooden bothy and then began our wander over the hills. Charles in the kilt and rugby shirt with his huge walking staff and the Queen in long tweed skirt and fairisle type jumper and head scarf, rarely would the Queen be seen without a headscarf around the estate.

We roamed the hills for a good 4hours in the morning the Queen, Charles and Willie walking line abreast with young Geo toddling on some 5 yards behind as I had previously been briefed, I had also been briefed that I should not initiate any conversation, this wasn’t a snobbery thing, it was merely to prevent questions being asked that could cause embarrassment by their content, or it even being not possible for the Royals to answer. It was simply, let them ask questions and answer them, but never with another question.

We would stop quite frequently as Willie surveyed the ground, occasionally pointing out gatherings of deer in the distance, the eyesight on these guys was immense, it would often take them a while to get guests to see what they were looking at, thankfully for me Willie was versed in target indication so would lead me on to his observations with ease. During these stops the Queen and Charles would speak to me, asking about my career and places I had visited and where I came from originally and general questions on family etc.

It was decided we should take lunch so we settled on the brow of a hill surveying some of the most impressive scenery to be found. I distributed the haversacks and situated myself at what I considered a reasonable distance, about 10 yards away and began investigating the contents of the haversack. As Willie had explained earlier, all bags contained the same items. Inside I found some nicely packaged salmon sandwiches, a pork pie, a couple of pieces of fruit and a large portion of shortbread.

Also within, I found a small hip flask with screw on cup, happy days thought I, however Willie explained that this was a tot only to be taken if we had a successful kill as it was obligatory to toast the beast that had been culled. There were further items like sachets of salt and pepper, toilet paper and hand wipes. The others had taken what they required from their packs and had returned them to me.

I was soon tucking into my lunch and listened intently as the others chatted away and found it hilariously funny when Charles continued to address her majesty as “mumah.” I clearly remember that the main topic of conversation between the Queen and Charles that day was in regards to Burgess, Mclean & Philby, which meant nothing to me as I knew little about politics at the time (don’t know much more about politics these years tbh.)

In a nutshell, Mclean had been discovered to have been a double agent working for the Russians, Philby is alleged to have tipped him off that he was about to be arrested and he defected to Russia along with Guy Burgess.

It remains unclear as to why Burgess joined him at the time as he had not been under suspicion. It became clear to me a couple of months later why this had been their topic of conversation when Margaret Thatcher announced to the Commons that Sir Anthony Blunt had admitted in 1964 as being the “fourth man” in this scandal, he was immediately stripped of his knighthood.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/onthisday/hi/dates/stories/november/16/newsid_3907000/3907233.stm

I imagine if I had understood what they were talking about I may have been one of the first of the country’s public to have known about Blunt’s involvement. If this was in the theatre of todays frenzied media, I could have made myself a pretty penny.

I had finished my lunch and had put all rubbish into the brown paper bag that had originally contained my sandwiches. Seeing that the others had seemed to be finished too, I enquired that this was so and collected their rubbish and packed everything away in preparation for moving on.

It was at this point that I became aware that someone was standing just behind me and as I turned around I was met with a beaming smile on her majesty’s face. “soldier, is there any lavatory paper in the packs?” I was stunned and managed to stutter “yes ma’am” as I fumbled to re-open one of the packs, I produced a roll of lovely soft toilet paper which I handed to the Queen.

My face must have been a picture of astonishment as she took the toilet paper from me and made her way behind a nearby bush.
It remains today my claim to fame and one of the most cherished memories, I do not know if it was a number 1 or 2, I don’t really care, it was such a surreal moment in the life of this young soldier and one I’ll never forget or tire of reciting.

A couple of things I learnt whilst at Balmoral

Royal etiquette – when first meeting the queen you should greet her with Your Majesty, subsequent replies with ma’am.

During the culling, only a member of the immediate Royal Family can shoot a stag with 12 or more antlers. Any Stag with 12 or more is titled a Royal Stag. Permission can be given to a member of the gamekeeping staff when deemed appropriate.

During our time there, one of our young officers, the Captain of the Guard had been invited to shoot and had killed a deer thought to have eleven antlers. When they reached the animal, it became apparent that it had originally had 12 but had lost one which had broken off, possibly during some rutting battle with another stag.

He was totally bricking it and the gamekeeper and the other officers of the guard kept the wind-up going for a good while that he would be punished and potentially would lose his commission. I must be honest and admit that for the soldiers too, we all delighted in his anguish as he was a bit of a knob. Of course he was never in trouble as from the distances that are involved the loss of an antler would never have been noticed.

Geo

I love that story...about time you posted it Geo :)

Thanks for all replies and It's always good to be asked questions.

Something that I meant to insert into the Thatcher/Clegg posts.

During the Falklands campaign, Maggie took a lot of flak over the Belgrano incident.

Battleship approaches our exclusion zone, we react and battleship moves off and whilst heading away from the exlcusion and therefore No Longer A Threat. Maggie ordered the attack and subsequent destruction of the battleship. Now in my opinion, this is no different than the scenario I gave earleir, in both cases the immediate threat had ceased.

Maggie's argument was that the battleship could still be a threat at a latter stage and therefore she was correct in ordering the attack.

And this is the sort of thing that annoys me. Regardless of whether we think her decision was right or wrong, we as soldiers, are governed by these rules and as much as possible we adhere to them, only for us to see the people who set these guidelines constantly bend them for their own use.

Geo

Wait a minute Geo, if that was all Clegg did then why did he and his patrol immediately start conspiring to cover their backs, to the extent that one of them volunteered to be hit in the leg with rifle butts so they could claim the car hit them? They knew themselves they'd done wrong and the whole patrol should have faced perjury charges and dishonourable discharge for the cowardly coverup attempts.

The argument that 'they could be a later threat' is far too close to the 'nits make lice' argument for me to be comfortable with it.

Rod,

You asked me my thoughts on whether soldiers, like Clegg, be allowed to continue to serve in the Army. I gave you the reason why Clegg was able to return, simply that he had been cleared by the courts (wrongly IMO) due to poor work by the prosecution.

After you asked the question, I took time to read through many articles so that I could put together a bullent point rundown of the court case for the readers who may not have been aware of the case.

Throughout the articles I read, I seen no mention of what you state and was therefore unaware of these allegations. If that had been the case then I'm sure you know I would not codone it. I read through many articles, including some from An Phoblacht and other Republican sites and this hasn't cropped up.

If that was what you were digging for, why not just ask the question?

My post also shows that I don't believe the "they could be a later threat" argument holds any water. It is against the rules of engagement and is therefore punishable.

Geo

Right hang on, I offered to PM you questions so as not to hijack the thread, you said just to post them then you accuse me of 'digging' for something?

I posted about it because I was surprised at your attitude to Clegg's case. Fine, you've read the articles that followed Clegg's being cleared, they were sketchy on the actual evidence from the trial. If you haven't read from the time of the trial then that explains why.

This:
Seems to say that they shouldn't be second guessed on their decision - which came over as more in support than against.

I've said I appreciate your candour on here Geo & do not appreciate being accused of having an agenda - I was genuinely enjoying hearing your side. I'll just read the thread in the future.

Rod,

As I already stated, you're welcome to ask your questions, you did not ask me about the soldiers supposedly trashing themselves to back up his story, you merely asked my thoughts on convicted soldiers being allowed to return to their units.

You're opening line of "wait a minute a Geo" and then the highlighting of your case regards potential perjury that followed seems to suggest otherwise. As I said if you wanted to discuss cases of alleged injustice, ask away. My use of the word digging may not be totally appropriate there and for that I apologise.

Your reply, to me, clearly shows that your intention was to raise the case in regards to a potential cover up as opposed to the outcome of the trial and subsequent re-instatement into the Army.

I didn't just read from the time of the trial, I've looked at past editions of various sources around the time, including Republican websites and did not find anything regards this. It actually links to the Thain case which I promised you I would respond to and which I am compiling.

My statement regards the Belgrano is a statement which I thought clearly showed that I was of the believe that Maggie was wrong, obviously you haven't read it that way.

I'd be unhappy if you did stop contributing, especially where NI is involved as I believe you could contribute greatly.

Geo

No, and that's the second time you've accused me of an agenda which I don't have, be it 'digging' or however you couch it, something I'd appreciate you leaving out as it's unfair. If I'd an agenda would I have offered to send you the questions privately first?

jeez, a lot of British deaths lately.

I'll say before i mention this that i didnt read the article fully but the Americans have been slagging off out efforts as well, wtf? ;carlocitrone;

GL to you mate.

GL jjandellis

Have a mate out there at the min and have been out there myself.

Stay safe

Hi Lee,

good to see you're still keeping in touch.

Hope you and yours are all well

Be safe mate.

Geo

I read this thread some time ago but did not post my thoughts at the time.  I have re-read this again today and find it hard to put into words how I feel, as it brought some of my childhood memories back, especially the cheese incident, though mine was very mild to yours.

My father was killed at the Battle of Casino in WWII and it was reported that the Americans were bombing indiscriminately and many the allied troops were killed.  My mother was left with four of us under the age of eight. She had it very hard and of course was very strict with us but was very fair and although money was short, she treated us all the same.  One day an apple went missing from the bowl on the table. She lined us all up and asked us individually who took it. Of course, we all denied taking the apple. Finally she said alright if you don't own up she would smack my youngest brother.  This shook us all, as although she was strict, she never hit us, her anger was enough for us to behave.  I admitted at taking the apple as I couldn't see my little brother getting a smack and I had to go to bed without any tea.  It was the next day as I was sweeping the floor (I was only about 7 years old at the time but we all had our jobs to do), I found the apple under the armchair. I cannot remember my mother's reaction as it was so long ago.

Fortunately, my mother got help through SSAFA and we all went to military boarding schools where we all took pride in our family regiments. I went to the Royal Soldiers Daughters' School at Hampstead, one brother went to the Duke of Yorks Royal Military School at Dover, one to The Gordon Boys School in Surrey and the other to King Edwards School in Surrey.  Most of the children at these schools had either lost their father during the war or were serving overseas. My eldest brother did National Service in the Army and my two other brothers signed up to the army and served in Cyprus and Germany.

Thank you Geo for sharing your stories.

lol we had a Fagans locally and that was the same, your shoes stuck to the carpet!

This is the first time I have heard that expression outside my house.  My husband always uses that expression when referring to something very small, he says it is a saying they used when he was in production engineering.

Just signed a petition for a pal. A few pubs in Arbroath banned all army personnel which seems a little off to me.

http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/forcesban/?signed=f13ead1.e51cb9

Is this sort of thing common in towns near army bases? Fair play to ban individuals who cause trouble, that's their right as a buisness and what have you, but to not let someone into a pub because of their profession is mad is it not? Do pubs in other areas of the country get away with this kind of stuff?

Unfortunately it is all too common. There was a thread up a while back about the soldier who was refused accom at, I think, a travelodge as they had a bit of trouble previously with a group of soldiers.

Every Garrison town has many bars/clubs that do not allow Soldiers. The Army don't help themselves either when they produce lists of clubs where the junior ranks are forbidden to go but the Senior ranks/Officers can, in order to prevent fraternisation between the ranks etc. It was mostly so they could have the best haunts without the possible hassle of the drunken junior rank spoiling their night. Some of these young officers were actually far worse, believe me.

Soldiers will be overly boisterous at times and tbh many of them are well OTT, however a blanket ban is just the easy way out

We had the same problem in Colchester, however a couple of the pubs there recognised that some SNCO's frequented often and actually gave them offers of cheap/free drink to keep the soldiers in line. Win/win as the landlord got plenty of business with minimum of hassle and the SNCO would get free nights on the booze.

The biggest problem I found that existed between the soldiers and local lads was the fact that the soldiers were easy meat for the local lassies. Lots of free drink and a fit young man to do the business should they want it, as opposed to Mr tight wad, beer belly slobber in the alley local (not all cases.)

Thanks for highlighting Tank.

Geo

You're such an eloquent "Explainer" Geo, (Does that come from shouting at squaddies?)  :D

I wish you would write more.



BTW- this is a different situation, but I know how it feels....

(http://www.bbc.co.uk/kent/voices/images/no_gypsies_203.jpg)

Thanks Tom (edit: although I feel there is a wee bit tongue in cheek there)

Know exactly what it feels like, seen many such posters but substitute Gypsy/Traveller with soldier. Unlike you guys, we usually had many other alternatives to go to.

BTW, just like the upper case "G" in Gypsy and use of other words to describe Gypsies/Travellers, for most soldiers, "Squaddies" is taken as derogatory too, doesn't bother me too much as I know in most cases it isn't meant badly, however the word does make me a cringe a bit.


Geo

Isn't it the case that, as Gypsies are recognised as a separate ethnic group, this poster is actually illegal?

But if they'd just said Travellers, it would be OK, as they're not, so it would be the same as banning soldiers or away fans at pubs near football grounds.

Not tongue in cheek at all Geo and I take your "Squaddies" point.

Andrew is correct. (As usual)

Sorry mate,

I'd describe my writing as being more concise than eloquent, you do eloquent. Thats why I thought you had inverted the explainer bit.

Always welcome your feedback.

Am encouraged to maybe add another couple of posts.

Geo

Concise is a great word. Karabiner, (the master when it comes to finding precisely the right word) would have used it.

However, your writing is not concise rather than eloquent, it is concise and eloquent.

(And before you ask, the answer is no, my tongue is still not in my cheek).

Now write some more please.

For Rodney:

Like everyone else who followed the thread about Rodney and Cassie I was devastated when Turney broke the sad news that Rodney had to be put to sleep after his horrific injury. I owe a great debt to the ITB crew, as a newbie I had decided at the last minute to attend BB4 at Luton. Knowing no-one, I was quite apprehensive when we all met up on the Friday night and went to the Chinese buffet.

I took a seat amongst the ITB crew and was welcomed instantly into the fold, had a great laugh, was introduced to many fantastic people and had one of the greatest weekends all the way through till the early hours of Sunday morning. This is my dog story and I write this post in thanks to you all.

Early in 1981 I made my way to Ballykinler in Co. Down in Northern Ireland for a 2 year stint. In the June of that year Mrs Geo and I married and we took up quarters on the estate within the camp.

The Regiment where there as the “Resident Battalion” and our tasks were varied, predominately reacting to large terrorist events, policing marches and riots and providing cover for various units during their periods of rest and recuperation. Every few months or so, each company would deploy to one of the border outposts such as Forkhill, Fermanagh, Crossmaglen or Middletown. These deployments could last anywhere between a fortnight to a month.

The purposes of these deployments were primarily to be in-situ as a quick reaction force to any incident within the area and also to provide frequent patrols to let the locals and the terrorists know that we had a presence there (reassurance for the locals and hopefully dissuasion for the terrorists.) From these bases we also carried out quite a few ambush operations, where information had been received of possible explosive/arms movements taking place or indeed the possibility of an attack on local Army/RUC bases or local dignitaries or politicians (we called this babysitting.)

As she was new to Army life and didn’t really know anyone, Mrs Geo had asked if she could get a dog as a companion for when I would be away and we agreed to start looking for a suitable beast.

We had seen an advertising card in the local NAAFI stating that a litter of pups would soon become available so we decided to check them out. The owner of the bitch that had just produced the litter was the Regimental butcher, a massive bloke called Shuggie Rice and the dame herself was a beautiful black Labrador which we had seen many times on the estate and had often stopped to admire and stroke.

The old adage of “as fit as a butcher’s dog” was well suited in this case. A large but muscular beast she had obviously been fed and exercised well, Ballykinler was a great place for this, with a large beach and rolling grassy dunes at the back gate of the camp which formed part of Dundrum Bay which sits at the foot of the stunning Mourne Mountains.

We visited Shuggie that night and on introducing us to the litter he explained that the mother had actually absconded one night and had been ‘caught’ by one of the patrol Alsatians owned by a member of the Provost Staff who had been out walking his dog that night.

They were a beautiful litter, all jet black like their mother with varying splashes of white. We took a fancy to one particular bitch which had a splash of white on her breast and her left hind leg. After spending a good while chatting to Shuggie and his wife and having a great time with the litter, we agreed that we would take our chosen pup when they became available in a week or so.

We collected her when ready and we named her Roxy (Mrs Geo had been a great Bryan Ferry fan.) We all settled in well together and it was obvious from the start that Roxy was a great learner. House trained within a short time and was soon obeying all sorts of commands: sit, stay, lie down and of course “dads slippers.”

She was a beautiful beast, Labrador in body, with the longer, tapered, face of the Alsatian. She seemed to take on the temperament of her Labrador mother and the intelligence of her Alsatian father. I may look out some photos and hopefully add to the thread although I’m not sure I have any that truly do her justice, for whatever reason, whenever you pointed a camera at here she would curl her lips, bare her teeth and shy away.

We had one really bad experience with her when she was about 9 months old. I had actually been attending a football training session with the Regimental squad and was heading back into camp. The wife and Roxy had been to the local shops and were also approaching the main gates of the camp but on the opposite side of the road. Roxy spotted me and dashed across the road towards me, unfortunately right into the path of a ¾ ton MOD land Rover. Luckily the guy had braked fairly sharpish and there wasn’t as great an impact as there could have been. However she had one of her hind legs caught under one of the rear wheels.

There we were, me and the Mrs, trying to lift the rear of a ¾ ton Land Rover to release the dog whilst screaming at the driver to move the vehicle slightly to help release her. The driver jumps out to see what is happening only for Mrs Geo to holler at him “Get back in and move this fucking thing off my dog!!” Poor guy, it was totally our fault and he’s receiving the wrath of Mrs Geo (not a nice experience I can assure you.) We got her released and to the vet pretty sharpish to find out she was lucky not to have broken anything although there was a huge gash in her hind leg. It cost us something like £200 at the time, which was a helluva lot to us then but proved to be well worth it.

Fast forward about 6 months and I am to deploy to Middletown for a 6 week period.

We would be using the RUC station there as a base for patrolling the border area, setting up vehicle checkpoints, doing farm searches and similar tasks. Mrs Geo was planning on returning to Edinburgh during this period as a cousin of hers was getting married, however we had the problem as to who would look after the dog. The ferry was out of the question as the whole journey to Larne – Stranraer and on to Edinburgh was a task in itself whereas the flight from Belfast to Edinburgh was much more convenient and even in those days, much cheaper.

I spoke to my Platoon commander and he agreed that I could take Roxy with me to Middletown as, for the majority of the time we would only be out of camp for a couple of hours at a time and there would always be someone there to keep an eye on her. So it was that we headed to Middletown in the back of a Pantech:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pantechnicon

Hard to believe that this was 2 years after the Warrenpoint ambush and we were still using road transport for large troop movements.

We settled down into the accommodation in the RUC station with Roxy taking her then usual place at the foot of my bed. Since a pup she had always shared our bed, however as she was growing we had to limit her to the foot of the bed, although more often than not she would still manage to end up sliding up to lie between Mrs Geo and I during the night. Best substitute for a water bottle ever! A position she would maintain throughout her life.

There was plenty of room around the base for her to exercise and never a shortage of volunteers to not only look after her when I was out but to take her for some exercise, normally running her ragged with a well worn cricket ball playing fetch.

Life in Middletown consisted of the odd day patrol, vehicle checkpoint and night patrol/ambush along with daily security and sangar manning of the base. Immediately outside the base was an HGV weighpoint/search area where the occasional HGV truck would be pulled in to be searched.

During these searches we would often find such contraband as cigarettes, electrical goods, Poteen and surprisingly……..butter!! not really sure why but at that time moving butter from South to North was quite a big thing and I would imagine quite lucrative, reasons for which I have no idea. We wouldn’t concern ourselves with this at the time, after all we weren’t HMRC.

However years later the Army started taking more interest when it became clear that a lot of the monies made from these schemes was being filtered back to assist terrorism.

Early one morning one of the alarms went off, we basically had 2 separate alarms, one for fire which, if I remember correctly, was a continuous siren and one for an attack on the base which was intermittent. Actions on the fire alarm where to make our way to a central location for a head count and then await the arrival of the fire brigade, no different to what most places of business operate.

The actions on the attack alarm where to remain where you were and get yourself under protective cover, usually under the bed or desk/table if you were in an office or dining room area.

This was the attack alarm and as there had not been any sound of gunfire or explosion we knew that it was warning of a possible attack or could actually have been a potential car-bomb delivered to the front gate which was a common occurrence in those days. We would then await further instructions issued over the tannoy from the ops room.

Instructions were issued that a suspicious device had been found inside one of the vehicles that had been marshalled into the vehicle checkpoint outside the base and that we were to assemble in a fielded area to the rear of the base. Our platoon kitted ourselves up and made our way to the area, knowing that we would be deployed on some sort of patrol to assist securing the area whilst the various agencies arrived to deal with the incident. I obviously had Roxy with me and it was agreed that she would accompany us on the patrol.

We patrolled the perimeter of the cordon that had been set up, it was quite a rural area so there was plenty of field trudging, fence climbing and breaking through bushes to create an entry into various fields. Whilst often there were natural pathways and gates as through-routes between fields they were obvious spots for booby traps so the troops rarely used these.

Roxy had an absolute ball, running up and down the line of the patrol, fetching the many sticks being thrown for her and a few feeble attempts at catching rabbits. About 4-5 hours later we were given the all clear to return to base and proceeded on our way back. As we made our way through the village we encountered the usual snarling dog, a real pain in the arse for most troops in these days.

We were convinced that some of these animals had been trained to hassle us at every opportunity and we would often find some beast snapping at our ankles or running alongside snarling or barking away. Yet anyone not in Army gear could approach it and talk and stroke it without any bother.

On this day however, Roxy made a bee-line for it and chased it off down the road, my heart was in my mouth as I had visions of her disappearing never to be seen again and there was no way could I break off from the patrol to hunt her down. There was no way either that the Army would extend the patrol to go hunt for her. Luckily, once she was satisfied that the beast was no longer a bother she returned to the patrol.

From then on it became standard that whenever we went on patrol that Roxy would accompany us and on many occasions her presence ensured we had less hassle from the local dogs. It was before the days of these fancy extending dog leads with a return spring and lock that we see these days, however one of the troops supplied me with a large extended rope-style lead which was commonly used by dog-handlers at that time which meant I could keep control of her and she would still have a decent bit of freedom when on patrol with us.

Roxy would also accompany us on night time patrols and we also had her on a couple of ambush nights and one particular babysitting job. We had been tasked to lie in wait within the Caledon estate:

http://www.caledon.org.uk/sitemap.php

Lord Caledon was a member of the peerage and he and his family were considered a legitimate target by the IRA. Information had been received that the estate was being surveyed with the possibility of an attack. We had been deployed and various covert positions were set up around the estate. It was a large estate and obviously we concentrated on the areas that gave most easy access to it.

We had patrolled into position after dark having been dropped off from a couple of covert Sherpa vans earlier. Sherpa vans were used a lot in these days for covertly transporting troops around the province, there were a lot of them around. They were the chosen mode of transport for a lot of the shop keepers and businesses in the province and we often disguise the vans by taping the ends of empty crisp/sweet boxes to the windows to give the appearance of it being loaded with provisions for a shop.

We had lain in wait for a few hours positioned in a common ambush set-up of 2 small cut off groups to the flanks with the main body of the ambush in the centre. Roxy and I were in the main group. On these occasions she was always a great help. Having the acute senses of a dog, she would be an early warning system when there was any movement or approach from some distance. She would lie with us and whenever she sensed something she would give a very low growl and would turn to face the direction from which she had sensed any movement or noise.

More often or not it would be cattle or deer but whenever she gave an indication it would result in all the troops being extra alert. During longer ambush periods we would stag the watch, generally take it in turns to get a bit of head-down, keeping a sentry at each cut off and the main body.

With Roxy there, in the event one of the sentries slacked and also dozed off we had the extra protection that Roxy would alert us to any other presence in the area. I don’t know whether it was through these excursions, however Roxy never, ever barked. Even when we returned to the normality of home life, I never heard her bark.

On this night she had begun her normal low growl to indicate she had sensed something and she was indicating towards our left flank so we contact the cut offs to ask if they had seen or heard anything. They hadn’t and we had not seen or heard anything from our position. We maintained our vigilance and sure enough, after about 20 minutes we began to hear the familiar sounds of rustling and snapping twigs associated with someone moving through a wooded area.

We were then contacted by the left cut-off that they could see 2 figures emerge from the edge of an adjacent wood about 300 metres in front of them. Using night vision they had determined that no weapons were visible and it was decided that a challenge would be given. “Army!! Stop, hands up!!” or words to that effect, were hollered in the direction of the 2 figures who immediately froze and raised their hands in the air.

The cut off group then skirmished into a position to check them out. One of them was known to the Security forces, the other was not. They had only map, compass and torch in their possession and gave the story that they participated in orienteering and were practising their night navigation.

We arranged for a couple of RUC guys to be choppered out to the estate to pick them up and they were then taken away for further questioning. Like so many of the arrests we made over the many excursions throughout the province, I never knew the end result of this incident. Needless to say we were happy that we had put an end to a potential subsequent attack on the estate and the Caledon family.

The return to Edinburgh after our 2 year stint in Ballykinler seen the end of Roxy’s military exploits, although she did continue to accompany us on further postings to Germany, Inverness and Colchester.

Mrs Geo would never allow her to go to kennels or be separated for too long from us so travelling was always a pain. Wherever we were, we would always drive back to Edinburgh during leave periods. We never had a proper holiday all that time.

Travelling from Germany back to Edinburgh was always a 24 hour grind. Drive to Hook of Holland or Seebrugge, ferry usually to Ramsgate or Dover and then the drive all the way up to Edinburgh. 2 adults, 3 kids and a huge black beast in one motor.

Fortunately I liked my big cars and most of these journeys were done in a huge golden coloured Ford Granada 2.8 ghia automatic, murder around town but a fantastic cruising machine.

Roxy remained with us for a total of 18 years, a grand age for a dog. Unfortunately age caught up with her and eventually her back legs gave out on her after a period of arthritis. It was a gut wrenchingly sad day when I had to get a mate to drive Roxy and I to the vets. I couldn’t drive myself as I knew she would not be coming back with me. I got my mate to drop me off at the vets which was about 5 miles from home in Colchester and asked him just to return as I would make my own way home.

Within a few minutes the vet had confirmed the worse, nothing for it but to have her put down. In all fairness, he actually scolded me as he thought (and was probably correct) that we had let her suffer a bit too long. Selfishness and prolonging the agony to ourselves – Guilty as charged. He administered the injection whilst she lay on the table with me by her side giving as much comfort as I could. It was quick and painless, the eyes closed, her breathing slowed until finally stopping and the words of the vet “That’s it sir, she’s at peace.”

I took the decision not to burden extra grief on the family by arranging to have her buried ourselves and left her in the hands of the vet. After settling the bill I then proceeded to walk home, all the while sobbing uncontrollably. It took me an age to get home by which time I thought I was now in control. As soon as I entered the house it all started again, all 5 of us in a huddle sobbing away. Heartbreaking but, somewhat bizarrely, a very warm moment for us all.

RIP Roxy
RIP Rodney.

Geo

nice story mate, really enjoyed reading that

fantastic story mate and a great read.roxy seemed an amazing dog.

thanks for dedicating it to rodney's memory

More stories please.

Very much this.

+1

wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ukpress/article/ALeqM5gHfW_kTwp4xYG7EjqKJclsAu3TFA

They've all gone septic.

Thanks Bolty,

bet you kept this till after the event to ensure you got a front row view. lol

Christmas on operations is always a hard time for the troops. They are renowned for not keeping in touch with back home and there are many stories of soldiers being taken aside by the sergeant major and being made to sit down and write a letter home. It's almost like you get caught up in a whole different world and you are "gonna do that letter tonight."

Xmas is different, it really is a time where the soldier can be at his lowest. Can only think it's the memories of christmas' past, the gifts, the family gatherings etc.

At this time the troops are inundated with all sorts of gifts and comfort packages. These come from so many people totally unknown to them and range from cards, letters of support to food, sweets and on occassion used undies - lol.

It is always greatly appreciated by the troops.

If anyone is thinking of sending anything, make sure you add some sort of contact detail, even an email address or phone number. Soldiers find it very frustrating when they receive a gift from someone who has taken the trouble to remember and thank them but they cannot pass their appreciation back to Mary, Oxford.

Geo

It was brought to our attention recently that Shell garages have been refusing to allow our poppy collectors to put collection boxes and poppies in their forecourts/shops.

One of the replies we have had:

Thank you for your email regarding whether the Poppy Appeal can continue to have collection boxes positioned in our service stations. As you may or may not be aware the Shell Retail Business operates as part of Shell UK Ltd. (Shell UK). Shell UK believes that investing in the community and other good causes is an integral part of running its business in the UK.

It believes that companies should act as responsible members of society and give something back to the communities in which they operate. Today, rather than simply giving to worthy causes, Shell prefers to donate skills, time and knowledge as well as money. We do this at a national level in an attempt to act in a coordinated manner and thus leverage our resources and maximise our contribution. As an example, Shell Retail supports Macmillan Cancer Relief, RSPCA and Motability through its successful Drivers' Club loyalty scheme.

It is in the context of this strategy that Shell Retail will not be allowing any further charities, including the Poppy Appeal, to use its forecourt network to collect monies. However, as indicated above, Shell UK's corporate social responsibility teams based at our corporate headquarters in London and our individual business location in Aberdeen and Stanlow may be in a position to offer further support. My apologies that in this instance Shell Retail have been unable to help. I trust that you will find other opportunities to raise money for what is undoubtedly an extremely good cause.

Yours sincerely, Shirley Cinco Shell Customer Service Centre Rowlandsway House Wythenshawe M22 5SB Shell U.K. Oil Products Limited is a separate limited company, which acts as agent and manager of the oil products business of Shell U.K. Limited. Shell U.K. Oil Products Limited Registered office: Shell Centre, London SE1 7NA Registered in England: No. 3625633

Whilst I can understand that they do indeed supply much needed assistance to chosen charities throught their own process, surely things like the once a year Poppy appeal or Children in Need deserve consideration in their own right?

It's not as if we are asking Shell themselves to donate.

Thoughts?

Geo

I always try and fill up with Shell fuels but this is quite bad. I'm happy to boycott them because of this.

I'm not really suggesting boycotting tbh, just thought that for the once a year collections they could give a little bit of leeway.

Geo

I do understand Shell and their stance on people using their premesis to raise money.

From a manager/company point of view we get requests all the time to leave charity boxes, come around the pub with buckets, collect money outside as people leave. The feedback we get from people is that its a pain, and if they want to donate they will do so in their own time.

The problem I see is that everything is only once a year, and all are very worthy causes, but who do you choose and say yes to and who do you say no to. We have decided to do the same kind of thing. We have a national collection box in Air Ambulance and a local one being a sports club as the only ones we will donate to and allow to collect in the pub..


Btw we have allowed the poppy appea, for some reason I think it goes against making the original decision in the first place or should the poppy appeal be allowed over all others?

I understand totally the annoyance than can be felt with the permanat collections, however I do feel that the larger, once a year appeals such as the poppy appeal and children in need could be given special consideration.

The poppy appeal for example, although they only have one major collection each year still assists families of serving and ex serving service members regardless how long ago they served or what campaign they fought in/lost their life.

Geo

Geo I can see why you would want this,due to your association with the armed forces,

But surely all the other Charities believe their cause us equally as important so where would this stop?

I do think it's appalling that they don't allow it but  I can see their point of view,

I might be wrong but I'm sure i have brought  a red nose from shell b4

 without sounding callous poppies are available in untold places for people to purchase,so its not like they have to worry about not selling them

I fail to see the problem here. there are many, many worthwhile charities and shell are free to support or not whichever ones they choose

to even suggest they are in the wrong is crazy

I agree totally with the needs of other charities being just as important mate, I donate about £25 each month to 4 charities, 2 non military, point is that most charities collect all year round and have permanent collections. The poppy appeal, on the whole, is a once a year thing.

The poppy appeal for example, help employ thousands of ex-servicemen too badly injured or traumatised to work in a normal civilian workplace. They house ex servicemen injured/traumatised through all operations, they assist families who have lost, who, in effect was the breadwinner of the family when they fall on hard times.

Without the Poppy appeal they would have to go to the Government for this assistance and where would this money come from?

Cutting other valuable services and raising taxes, as opposed to asking for voluntary contributions.

Geo

The problem I have with this is similar to Geos, although I've never been in the Armed Forces I have worked with them on and off for the last 4 years.
The Poppy appeal is only once a year and the people it's supporting once fought for our nation.

It's alright and commendable that Shell support various charities throughout the year but this is out of the publics hands.
By allowing collection buckets at petrol stations it would allow peoples donations to go where they want it to go. The argument that you can donate to the Poppy Appeal at many other places misses out on the here and now donations which people make when receiving change.

I for one will always try and put some change into the buckets of charities on shop counters if I agree with the cause. I also donate on a regular basis.

I personally think there is more to the reason behind Shells refusal to allow Poppy Appeal collections at petrol stations but that's not for this thread.

Just my thought,

Bob

one that got me was a bodycare staff member was asked to remove her poppy because the company would not allow her to support any charities during worktime

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/8349757.stm

Petty imo. He took the time to write a letter, and made a small mistake. So she goes to the tabloids  ::)

Yeah i was not happy this was all over the news. Its a nice touch he writes to them personally, to nitpick his spelling and grammer is missing the point

I thought it was absolutely pathetic, not so much for her (she may well be blinded by grief for losing her son) but for the fact that no one at The Sun has seemed to quietly point out that it's the poor handwriting of a guy with only one half-good eye that makes 'Janes' look like 'James' and 'comfort' look like 'cumfort'.

They're exploiting her just to get at Brown and it's truly despicable.

To be fair to the public, when this story was featured on BBC Breakfast this morning, the presenters did read out a lot of emails from viewers who all did say this, with not one having a go at Brown, and given how much the BBC tries to bend over backwards to be balanced with things, that says something.

Think you are spot on Andrew.

Not sure when the practise of writing hand-written notes was introduced, I'd never heard of it before, as far as I'm aware my family did not receive any message from John Major.

My wife and I wrote a number of letters to Tony Blair in regards to the 2nd Gulf War and Afghanistan and each time, even as a former SNCO and mother of a serving soldier, the typed standard format letter was produced and signed by an assistant.

I don't like Brown, but kudos to him if he does this off his own back.

I can also understand this lady's frustration, however agree the papers reaction is very OTT

Geo

Couldn't agree more

Just taken this from my Regimental website.

   
Generous members of the public who show their support for Armed Forces personnel by sending welfare parcels to Afghanistan are being urged to stop and think – and consider alternative and better ways they can back the troops.
     
There are many different ways in which people in the UK can thank forces deployed overseas for their work and commitment, and support practical efforts to make their free time more enjoyable and comfortable.

But whilst the kindness and generosity of people who send boxes of treats out to operational theatre are greatly appreciated, the sheer volume of mail now being received - and the unintentional inclusion of inappropriate items - is causing serious difficulties for those charged with running the distribution service of supplies, including post, in theatre.

As the amount of post traditionally increases in the run-up to Christmas, officers and soldiers at Camp Bastion hope to highlight the unintended consequences of the public’s generosity – and point out other, much more effective ways that people can do their bit to bring a little cheer to the front line.

The message comes direct from military personnel at the sharp end, and their message is simple: troops on the ground in Helmand Province really appreciate support from back home, but the mountains of well-intentioned mail cause genuine difficulties which outweigh the benefits.

The volume of mail arriving at Camp Bastion for onward distribution is causing three key problems:

• Personal mail sent to deployed personnel by their loved ones can become significantly delayed, amidst all the other items from members of the public. Receipt of letters or gifts from a parent or spouse can be very important for morale in theatre and for the peace of mind of families back home. Whilst unsolicited parcels are without doubt popular with recipients, the delays they inevitably cause to the delivery of the much more anticipated personal mail are considerably less welcome.

• The onward delivery of goodwill parcels to forward operating bases necessitates additional re-supply flights and convoys which places Service personnel at additional risk in what is already a difficult and dangerous operating environment. Every time an additional convoy is laid on, more troops are put at risk of enemy attack.

• The type of items included in many welfare parcels are either already readily available in theatre or are simply not appropriate for the Afghan environment, and therefore can go to waste.

The Ministry of Defence is very keen to ensure that members of the public who wish to support British service personnel are able to do so in a way which does not cause problems for the very people at whom the help is directed. For that reason a list of recommended Service charities, which accept public donations to assist deployed personnel and their families back at home, has been drawn up.

Some of these funds send welfare parcels to Afghanistan – but they do so, in consultation and partnership with the Armed Forces, in a co-ordinated way which does not put undue pressure on resources. This list of charities can be found on the internet at www.mod.uk/PublicSupportForOurServicePersonnel.

The newest of these charities, established this year, is the SSAFA Operational Welfare Fund, which delivers items for which troops on the ground have bid, to make their lives a little more comfortable. More details on this charity can be found at www.mod.uk/OperationalWelfareFund.

Another of the charities is uk4u-Thanks! which delivers a Christmas box to every soldier, sailor and airman deployed overseas – in Afghanistan and elsewhere – in time for 25th December. Its parcels are delivered via the supply chain, meaning there is no impact on the mail network. This charity benefits from corporate sponsorship but also appeals for private donations. A 2009 media launch for uk4u-Thanks! takes place on 1st December at RAF Northolt (Newsdesks please note an Operational Note will follow)

Captain Charlie Malcolm, Officer Commanding the Operation HERRICK Postal and Courier Squadron, based at Camp Bastion, explained:

“Unfortunately backlogs of mail do build up from time to time, particularly at this time of year. For personnel deployed overseas, personal mail from loved ones is very important. But the system can be completely overwhelmed by the public’s generous donations, which results in mail from family and friends being delayed

“The main cause of this is the huge and unmanageable number of welfare parcels, sent by well meaning members of the public, to recipients not personally known to the sender. In some cases the intended recipients have left Afghanistan long ago. This mail significantly delays the all important personal mail from soldier’s families.

“While we recognise and are grateful for these generous intentions, it would be better if members of the public could channel their goodwill into making a donation to one of the MoD’s recommended service charities. These charities send out packages – containing items the troops really want and have requested – in a co-ordinated way which does not hold up personal mail, or put unnecessary pressure on resources.”

Lieutenant Colonel George Waters, Staff Officer with responsibility for Operational Welfare at the Ministry of Defence, added:

“I have served in Afghanistan myself and I have been the recipient of several goodwill parcels from members of the public. There is no denying that the knowledge that complete strangers are thinking of you provides a boost to morale. But what the troops on the ground want above all else is to receive their personal mail and the sheer number of welfare parcels in the system causes serious delays to those all-important personal items.

“Everybody in the Armed Forces is enormously grateful for the generosity of people who want to support us. But the timely delivery of letters and parcels from loved ones must always take precedence over the delivery of packages from strangers.

“My message is unequivocal – if you wish to show your support for the troops, the far and away most effective way of doing so is to support an official registered service charity, such as SSAFA.”

Minister for the Armed Forces, Bill Rammell MP, said:

“I am delighted that so many members of the public are keen to show their support for our Armed Forces this Christmas. I know how much it means to our brave men and women serving overseas.

“However, it is very important to make sure that people express their support in the right way to make the biggest difference in helping our troops on the ground. Rather than sending their own letter or parcel, I am strongly urging people to consider making a donation of whatever they can afford to one of the excellent Service charities on our recommended list. This is what those in Afghanistan are saying they would like, as they want to make sure letters from their family and friends get to them without delay.

“Once again, let me say thank you to the British public for their incredible ongoing support for our Armed Forces
 

BUMP

TBH, I was hoping this would just fade away, you wouldn't believe some of the grief this caused me and it wasn't something I was going to spoil the forum with.

Through FB and email I received some cowardly shit. Had some suspicions but couldn't prove anything.

By leaving the thread be everything ceased after a while.

Geo

I mentioned to you on Friday I was going to bump it, you probably just didn't understand me though :P

Huge sighhhhhhhhhhhh at you getting shit, sorry, feel free to get mods to do there stuff if needs be, abs tremendous read and I just thought there are a lot of blondes that weren't around when you posted this so may've missed a great and insightful read.

No probs it was a while back now, happy if others want to read it. Since earlier in the year I've been collating a lot of this stuff with a young anthropologist who is writing a book on Soldiers and their re-adjustment to civilian life, I might get that book done after all.

Geo

thanks monda for the bump i would never have found this

Great read only on page 3 i think will read more tomorrow got me on the brink of tears here reading about your brother.

I have quite strong views about the armed forces and always say how much i back them even though many disagree. I would not have the bravery to do what you guys do. I am thankful that you guys are on the front line fighting to help us stay safe in our homes.
Thanks Geo for sharing the stories.

Wow!

I never new this existed .... Really looking forward to reading it Geo.

I will probably want to respond to certain things is this ok ? Or would you rather it fade away again?

Yea this really is an incred read!!  I'm def a lurker, but one of the best series of posts I have seen so cudnt not post.  Im from Belfast, and had never really read much about the troubles from a British soldiers perspective.  Will read again :)  Brilliantly written.  Thanks.

I've just read the whole thread ....amazing writing skills "sargent,"I even had a text conversation about this thread with a friend of mine who was also glued to it!
I could respond to several things and some of my own experiences but I am unfortunately not in your league!

Really awesome read Geo!

Only a couple of pages in. Book marked for tonight's bed time. Too good to try and read whilst watching TV with the wife.

If you are getting grief those people need to be publicly hounded.

It was 3 years ago titty, all quiet now and hopefully stay that way.

See your pms


Geo

You were Anglians Lee yeah?

Poacher, Viking or Steelback?

Had a couple of lads attached to us for a while who was Anglian, Sean Atherton was the name of one

Geo

I was a poacher Geo
The 3rd battalion was called the pompadors
Not steebacks
I out at min so just done quick search and deffo listed as steelbacks which is confusing
Must be a ta battalion !

Atherton name rings a bell ... But can't picture the face !

The 3 rd battalion the pompadors where dispanded  early 90's I think

Read and responded sir.


All the best.

Makes sense, I was only aware of 1&2 as the poachers and vikings. The 3rd as you say may be a TA Bn.

Poachers tended to have the footballers and vikings the boxers iirc.

We moved to Colchester and took over from Anglians around 98/99, Atherton had compassionate attachment to us to remain in Colly and was with us in the Anti Tank platoon as he was AT trained.

Happy if you want to add anything to the thread or if you have any questions.

Geo

I have been looking forward t reading Zadie Smiths new book for ages and finally received it this morning.  Then I started reading this.......incredible stuff....really great.  Zadie is still on the shelf.

Fantastic Bump

Great read, thank you for this Geo

Only upto page 11 but wife wants me to go to sleep. This is so moving and an amazing read. Thoughts to all the families who have lost loved ones but particually yourself and Suzanne.

(http://i1173.photobucket.com/albums/r600/leeethefish/3d6526485ede60356eb43e5692ebe16e.jpg)

I was attached to 1royal Anglian in January 1995 in Colchester
Went on exercise with them to America ,Fort Lewis in Seattle

One of my best times in the army !

The ran this programme I can't remember the name of it but local family's adopted a British soldier for a day!!
I remember they collected me took me and another guy  to a big mall to which they insisted on buying us stuff!!
Then at their massive house they cooked us the most amazing BBQ
Then returned us to camp later that evening!

Although I served in Bosnia 1994 (op grapple 4) and had lets say one or two "incidents"

I've never really wanted to talk about these things ....maybe because my friends wouldn't of understood or maybe I just wanted to bury It!

reading your story has brought it back .....but strangely I just look back with good memories " the good times"
And not these "incidents" !

In fact it's prompted me into ringing a fusilier I was in training with that I've always stayed in touch with untill the last few years .....Thanks Geo.

What a great read this thread is. I sort of got a flavour of some of the negativity from Rods post but to me it just looked like you two guys possibly mis understood each other. I can't imagine the sort of stuff you had to deal with on Facebook or by pm that would stop you writing here. I am pretty sure that the majority of guys want to hear so much more.

Just as David's dad becoming a Chelsea pensioner inspired me to go and talk to my dad about my grandad, this now wants me to go and have a chat with him about Ireland. I sure remember the Zeebrugge to Dover ferry and probably did that trip 25 times. I have never seen eye to eye with my dad as we do rub each other up the wrong way. The lasted incident was this week when I went to do him a favour and he ended up running me over :)

Just for clarity, Rod and I know each other pretty well and whilst we don't always agree we have a lot of respect for each others views.

Just in case anyone gets any Idea that Rod was involved, definatley not.

Geo

Cheers Geo, had a wee worry that I'd get tarred after the debates we had, knew you & I were ok though. Wish you'd told me back then you were getting hassle elsewhere, I'd have not got into the debate, no need for stick to be dished out, PM or otherwise. Like you say, we don't agree on everything but there's no animosity.

BTW I echo the others - please resurrect the thread - the posts were interesting and educating, while we disagree about the military & its role, the view from the soldier is a good read.

There was just a long break in posts once you and Rod had exchanged views. I think the only thread that I have never seen opposing views or anything negative is The Sun Is Shining by Taximan.

Welsh Guards

I don't totally agree with the first sentence.

I did mention that the Pl Sgt had indicated that it was the Pln Comds decision to do the patrol. In my experience I find it hard to believe that this sort of decision would be made at less than Company Commander level.

To be blunt, I wasn't impressed with the Pl Sgt throughout the programme, when you've done the role you get a "feel" for individuals, my feelings were that he wasn't up to the job. In the film they have him as a "Lance Sergeant" which is the Corporal equivalent, maybe he had been put into acting Sgt's job.

Regards the role of the Pl Comd, he is ultimately in charge of the Platoon. The Pl Sgt's main job is the admin and discipline of the platoon and will obviously supply guidance to the Pl Comd when he feels it is warranted. For some this can be often, for others very little.

Officers are trained to as high a standard as the soldiers, some would argue even more. As well as the basic training, officers have to cover so much more - tactics - politics and many other subjects.

Officers will only be at 2nd Lt/Lt level for aboput 4 years normally, during that time they will spend a lot of time completing other courses that are required for promotion. Pl Comds rarely spend more than 2 years with a platoon and I have been in Platoons where we have had 3 different Pl Comds in a year.

Platoon Sgts will generally spend upwards of 4 years with a Platoon, therefore the Pl Sgt is the link between the men and the Pl Comd, he knows the men, he gets to know the Pl Comd very quickly and as said before will offer guidance when meritted.

Ocassionaly you will get a Pl Comd who hasn't got a clue, lots of intelligence but little common sense, these are the dangerous ones, these are the ones which the Pl Sgt needs to "get a grip" of.

Most officers are there as a career and often it is through family/Regimental links, however quite often there are some who join up short term. A personal example:

In 1979 I deployed on my first tour of Belfast    http://blondepoker.com/forum/index.php?PHPSESSID=li82ee8nmd8bs2g2dt4gs1rct4&topic=35641.135

Prior to this we had undertaken a 6 month training package culminating in 4 weeks or so at the Cinque Ports of Lydd and Hythe where the Army had a huge mock up of a village set up similar to the streets we would be patrolling in Belfast.

During this period we would be put through the various scenarios we would face, reaction to patrol being attacked, reaction to bombs, riot training, probably the most frightening thing I have endured is an 8 hour stint on a "baseline" during riot control being pelted incessantly with anything that could be thrown, from bricks and bottles to petrol bombs and bottles or packages of piss and human shit. I have been involved in 3 gun battles in NI, one mortar attack on our base in Crossmaglen and a fire-fight/trench clearing in Kuwait and none of them compare to how much I was scared on the baseline in North Belfast behind a 6ft perspex sheild.

Anyway, off I go rambling again.

Prior to starting our training package for NI we had a new Pl Comd, this chap was not a career soldier, he was heir to part of a huge fortune as the son of a shipping merchant who at that time owned probably the largest shipping/container company as well as various other businesses. Trouble was the Pl Comd - "Frankie" as he came to be named had been told he would receive nothing of this without having served something like a minimum of 3 years in the Army.

Frankie had completed his officer training at Sandhurst and had arrived at our Regiment, not without a few stories having already reached us. Frankie was a genuinely nice bloke, intelligent, yes no doubt about that, sensible no way. His family background meant Frankie had some powerful friends and by all accounts without these friends would never have passed out of Sandhurst.

On one of the first days with the platoon we were doing some live firing on the ranges at the base of the Pentland Hills here in Edinburgh (I can see the site of the old ranges from my house balcony) in those days the issue equipment was 58 pattern webbing, a belt to which you attached the various different pouches, all designed for a specific purpose i.e. Ammo pouches to left and right which held your rifle magazines, "kidney pouches" so called as the were positioned to the rear of the belt, covering the kidney area, which contained wash/shaving kit, cooking kit, including mess tins, rations and the old hexamine block cookers (for hexamine blocks, think firelighters for those of you old enough to remember, however with the consistency of Kendall mint cake.)

Webbing was usually uniformally set up - ammo pouches front left and right, water bottle to the left hip, kidney pouches to the rear with "poncho roll" a canvas cover containing a waterproof poncho which also doubled as a bivvi tent or lean-to and in between were various other pouches. If memory serves normal issue was an additional 2 pouches over and above what I have detailed above. At times if you had "acquired" additional pouches then you could attach them allowing you to carry additonal stuff. Thing was, space was limited to the width of your belt. A skinny runt like me had less opportunity to add pouches as opposed to the 6ft and 38" waisted rugby types.

Frankie appeared this day with his webbing all over the place, pouches incorrectly situated, most half empty as he wasn't in possesion of half the stuff he should have had, empty water bottle, no magazines as he had "left them on his bed" etc. The Pl Sgt then was real old school, within minutes he and Frankie were having words round the back of the target shed. The Sgt appeared after 10-15 mins with Frankies webbing, threw it at me shouting "Dickson, Steer (Sandy, an old pal sadly gone now.) go round and show that fanny how to set this up properly."

20 mins later Frankie could return to the range looking a bit more like a soldier, Sandy and I also distributed a couple of our magazines each on loan to him for the day so he could complete the days firing exercise. The thing being that the Sgt took him out of earshot of us and more importantly the other Platoons to do the rollocking and ensured that this was kept in house within the Platoon.

To be contiued......................


Geo

(http://www.sherv.net/cm/emoticons/eating/popcorn.gif) (http://www.sherv.net/popcorn-emoticon-1164.html)

Have you not got washing to do?

Gl to missus Lee

Geo

So pleased mate. A lot of the guys who followed a few years ago I dont know or even see on the forum these days. We can get tighty to get in touch and tell em it's time to come back because your thread is back up and running again. :)

Lol Geo ...I'll pass on the gl to mrs fish thank you

As I was going back over the thread the last few days I couldn't help but notice so many heros of blonde throughout the thread. Some gone for varying reasons, never to return and others who simply faded out.

I don't really run with the "so many have left as blonde is so different these days." Yes some have left due to being offended by something/someone on the forum but some are simply doing different things and life has changed for them.

If you went back far enough you would find some threads far worse than we have seen the last year or two, others have been removed. Has the language changed? yes most definately, just as it has in every day life. Posts like yours on John Blacks thread can only educate and encourage new posters of what is deemed acceptable.

I have 3 sons (23-26-29) all brought up well and am constantly embarrassed at some of the things they come out with and when challenged they admit not really knowing the full reason behind the term "its just the normal speak these days auld yin." Once explained to them they use certain terms less, certainly in mine or their mothers company.

Don't know what the stats would be of viewing/posting compared to previous years but doubt it has changed much. Critiscism is good if it is constructive and presented reasonably. Whilst I have cringed at recent threads I was also cringing 5 years ago.

Geo

Frankie continued through the training with many mishaps on the way, always badly prepared, always losing pieces of equipment and seemingly always on duty officer. This normally indicated he was picking up extra duties as punishment for misdemeanours either through indiscretions in the mess or possibly not completing tasks given by his commanders.

We arrived at Lydd and Hythe and settled in for the final and probably most important part of the training package, patrolling and reaction to various scenarios thrown at us. Throughout this part of the exercise Frankie did not perform well.

It had been a long and challenging package and we had just spent 2 weeks at Otterburn on field firing and were looking to get through this and on to some well merited leave.

One of our early patrols was a night patrol through the mock village where we were tested that evening with an ied going off at a phone box that one of the patrol had taken cover behind. Obviously not a full ied during training, merely a “flashbang” device designed to startle and indicate an explosion.

Frankie was totally out of sorts but with some cajoling from the Sgt he got things organised, cordoned the area, requested the various agencies – RUC - ATO – SOCO etc. We got it all done and finished off the patrol and were about to complete the final withdrawal to base when we were diverted back around the area we had just been tested on as Frankie had left his weapon propped against the wall. Needless to say one of the instructors had already removed this and Frankie was in deep shit.

Frankie never made it to Belfast with us.

Until the day I left the Army, if there was a major fuck up within our regiment it was usually described as a “Frankie.”

Fortunately there are very few Frankies come through officer training, on the whole most are really good. They have been through boarding/public school and for lots of that time they have lived away from home and learnt to look after themselves. They are usually tough as nails as by all accounts it a tough life at these schools and most have been involved in cricket or rugby during that time.

 Added to that their added bravado of must do everything and more the soldiers do then you can have one tough cookie. I’ve served with many more good officers than bad.

Geo

My dad was Royal Engineers. I seem to recollect him calling the officers Ruperts possibly

Although this is not a great story and I can't tell it like Geo could ...this is my experience of a shit platoon commander!!

Whilst in celle Germany my infantry battalion was mechanised (we used the Warrior)
(http://i1173.photobucket.com/albums/r600/leeethefish/d382552664c567736cc40a615a0c5562.jpg)

at the time I was trained in all three roles of this vehicle
Driver,gunner and commander ...my job at this time was 2-0 (the call sign) driver of the platoon commanders vehicle!

Now bear in mind I loved my job and knew every inch of the warrior inside out!

I had been away for 3 weeks or so on a course ......(lol just remembered what the course was basic boat operators course)
Me and my mate spike had "I can eat 50 eggs" prop !!

I gotta get ready for work so I'll continue this later!

Lol. Why start it and keep us in suspense all day :)

Sorry jase ... I didn't realise the time!!
It's not even a good story just my experience of a shit officer

That's another story, for another time.......

Lol @ tk......still waiting for rags to riches !

As many Americans tell their military men and women. We appreciate your service guys

Can't agree on this at all. Most of them already know which Arm/Corp they wish to go to before they join up. IMO it's the progressive training for their subsequent roles and the soldiers they will be allocated that is different.

What you describe actually happens within the recruiting process and training establishments of the rank and file and rarely within Officer selection/training.

Geo

Edit:  note to self - 2 years as a Recruiting Sergeant - a real eyeopener

Shush, before everyone gets on my case. ;)

That is SUCH a great Post in so many ways, Geo, & kudos for the reference to Jason, in fact I wrote & thanked him (via PM) at the time. He handled it with such Un-Herbie like touch, feel & subtlety.

I don't think I should comment further, at least not on here, as this is such a grand thread, & I don't want to derail it.

An incredibly understanding & thoughtful Post, though. Happy to discuss it on another thread any time if you so desire.

*as my hero Tikay would say ......That's another story, for another time.......

I came back and whilst i had gone on said course we had a new platoon commander  join our platoon.
also our platoon Sargent was away on a course so a corporal by the name of ................was acting  platoon sergeant.......corporal was a complete Tw@t and a bully to the junior soldiers  but to be fair he did know his stuff!!

i got back really early one morning like 5 am, checked orders and vehicle maintenance was to be done that day didn't see a point in going bed so wandered up to the vehicle shed put my overalls on and cracked on with the general maintenance of the warrior.

the rest of the platoon turned up about 8 ish
with them the new Rupert!

he done nothing more than to shout at the top of his posh voice ....words to the affect who the fuck are you touching my wagon get the fuck down and salute me to start with!
 (i was a grade 1  private soldier)
then you can explain why the drivers seat is out and i want to go on a test to the ranges.

Corporal .......... then came over and asked what was going on to which the Rupert (cant remember his name for the life of me!!) replied this stupid fucking private soldier has the seat out and i want to take the wagon to the ranges!

Corporal .......replied with sir this is Williamson your driver !! listen to him because  he knows this vehicle inside out which is why hes your driver!!

"wind your neck in corporal...........i want this ready to go in ten min"

Corporal.........pulled me to one side and said something like teach this prick a lesson only move when your told lets see what happens !!

so as a platoon we went on a test run to the ranges about 5 miles from camp ...4 warriors in convoy..
they look awesome an impressive  sight!

so via the intercom the Rupert said turn right out of camp foot down lets go Williamson .....

i was about to tell him we should turn left then right ...when i remembered what Riley told me oops !! 4 warriors  trying to turn around in the family's NAFFI car park was funny
especially as i didn't remind him a warrior can do a neutral turn  





........I decided to remove the corporals name and left .......... In place
Just in case!

:)

This said corporal was such a cock !
The platoon sergeant had put my name down fo the upcoming NCOs cadre (promotion course) but once he went away doin his  course the acting platoon sergeant took me off and put "his mate" in my place .....

I can eat 50 eggs!

YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5h_PuVlmYY

Me and spike (a very close friend) went on this course ....just for fun no real purpose but hey basic boat operators course .....always gonna come in handy!!

So we are in the naffi bar as you do on any outside course in Germany nothing around for miles....

After about 3-4 bottles of becks ...always becks in Germany! Got the munchies .....no food ! What ?
Crisps ...ran out ,nuts ?...lol
We have pickled eggs the guy behind the bar says

Spike immediately in paul Newman stylie said those words

"I can eat 50 eggs"

Be both got pissed on becks and every round was

"gaffer 2 becks 4 pickled eggs please"

No idea how many eggs in the jar Prob had 12-14 each ......god I was Sick the next day!!

(http://www.sherv.net/cm/emo/funny/1/vomiting.gif) (http://www.sherv.net/vomiting-emoticon-391.html)