IUTA009

I had a look on the internet but ending up paying a visit to the Old Jokes Home. Sorry.

You're welcome, glad you enjoyed it !

The Final Push.. ----------------------------------------- Administered jump leads to Mr Bewicks ailing Canadian Ford immediately before breakfast. Stood a while with the Minister of Propaganda and watched the rapidly crumbling empire as the camp site cleared, or as Mr Veldhuizen ( codename Fieldmouse) put it in the itinerary, " Everyone leaves to their several destinies". Heavy stuff. Started off in plenty of time for the ferry, nice steady 40 on the Autoweg. I had stuffed myself with muesli and was happy to run straight through to Zeebrugge. Then a simultaneous message from the juveniles, "We want a Big Mac". Agreed to look for one in Antwerp. Ground round lunchtime Antwerp for half an hour, fast fooders but nowhere to park. Lost patience and struck out for the coast then realised how low on gas I was. Requisitioned all 008's remaining BF's and filled with enough gas to run out at Dover docks. We missed the ferry by 10 minutes. Poor old punk thereby missed a concert by Echo and the Bunnymen that his ladyfriend had bought tickets for, for his 18th Birthday present. In a fit of pique she used me as a battering ram, telling him about a liason between herself and I at a previous rally. Behold the ramifications of the Antwerp Big Mac that never was. IUTA 008 had solemnly sworn to supply his SecGen with an Egg McMuffin on returning to the UK. On entering the Woolwich branch of McDonalds a growing feeling of despair at not seeing this culinary delight advertised, was brought to a climax of horror when informed that the great Egg McMuffin had been discontinued, withdrawn from the European Theatre of Operations. I am composing a letter to the Times on this matter, yours disgusted, Otford. IUTA has taken off in a big way, we now have 36 members. Mr B.J. reprimanded me for signing in strangers one night at the Airborne Holy City. He states that he can read characters by their face. He was right about them, they dissappeared early having drunk other peoples during their stay, and never returning the compliment. I have therefore appointed Mr B.J. Unit Physiognomist. Fraulein SS has promised to produce the official organ of IUTA, "The World Through A Beer Glass", and one of the Dutch Policemen, Mr Noordgraaf (015) has volunteered an article. The Minister of Propaganda is organising a weeks tour of Guernsey in May 1985 which will probably be the first IUTA tour. He is also having so many thousand bottles of IUTA beer produced by a local brewery. This, of course is to commemerate the 40th anniversary of the liberation. Looks like IUTA; Empire of Evil is slowly but surely becoming sanctified. Can I be St. Dick of Doublevision ? What about increasing the organisations status by becoming The Institute for International Understand Through Alcohol ? IIUTA or Double IUTA ? I shall contact the Chairman on this. Yours sincerely, Secretary General ------------------------------------------------------------ That's all folks ! Thanks for sticking with it, I'm no typist and Dicks writing style needs full attention. Copying this out has brought many extra memories of the trip back to me. Mr B.J.'s Mack made the transition from Holy City to "Airborne" Holy City when the bonnet leapt from its resting place of four decades and started to flap over the convoy and across the oncoming traffic. We all got an unexpected brake test and the errant bonnet was coralled and bungied back onto Lucas' truck. We arrived at the Vlissingen campsite very early because we missed the last ferry from Breskens which resulted in me sleeping in the Jeep ( just a roof, no sides) with the wind howling through from midnight till 6am. I say "sleep".... St. Martin in the Fields had really not drunk before then, to quote him " a small can of Heineken at Christmas. Sometimes ". Getting pissed the first night was predictable but when he appeared 12 hours later and demanded more Southern Comfort we all knew he was a natural. Great hangover cure ?.... Feet in the Rhine with a tin of ambrosia cream rice in one hand and a bottle of Bavaria in the other. And a Marlboro, if you wish. Trust me, it works. Dicks account of me wrestling his truck to a point of failure is a little bit generous. I used all the air in the brakes when I should have used the gears. This meant that when I needed the brakes there was no air. This in turn meant that the lamp post opposite my final GMC junction received an attitude change. Only by a couple of degrees, I'm sure it still worked. The most enduring memory I have is driving up through Belgium from the ferry. The late afternoon mist was swirling across the Poplar lined B road, Dick was leading, the air was crisp and as we reached a slight incline and the revs dropped. Hearing that Jimmy six dig in and watching the silhouette of the truck coming and going in the shifting gloom, marked only by the tail lights, will stay with me forever. I hope this has entertained you if you weren't there and brought back good memories if you were Thanks Dick. Cheers, Dan.

----------------------------------------------------------------------- The next mornings propaganda broadcast carried a special message to our friends in occupied Europe. From the Secretary General........ The peanut relish of Mr B.J. burns my heart with a monotonous langour. I repeat. The peanut relish of Mr B.J. burns my heart with a monotonous langour. Off to B...den Le..den on the banks of the Waal. This Sunday .......................................... ushered into the community center and each given a sheet of " Consumptie bons". It was Midday and the community bar was in action, so I joined Mr B. J. for a beer, putting the consumptie bons to the best possible use. When not engaged in driving around in machines of death and destruction, plays in his local brass band at occasions such as this. From the early age of 10 he was putting the consumptie bons to good use. Often he would return home "Completely pissed" and have to be sent to bed. The Pope declared the consumptie bons manna from heaven. The following procession took place in blazing sunlight rendering the famous Michelin flash invisible. However, the tandem was again in action, mounting the punk and Immaculate Conception. The Dutch Army, I think it was , provided a Sherman tank to lead the procession. I was driving at the rear so when I had an opportunity to see it the damn thing had disappeared off the face of the earth. At one point during the parade we passed a man commenting on the passing vehicles. When he clapped eyes on the GMC I heard amongst a blur of Dutch, " Schlachthof Funf" engendering ecstatic applause from the cognicente. Recognition at last. Scotsman Tom Bewick (IUTA 012) enhanced the scene by passing up and down on his para bike, wearing Glengarry cap and kilt, feeding on famous grouse. At the end of the procession we all parked up and the Minister of Propaganda gave out a message to all IUTA members to assemble for a photograph. I produced a roll call and all present shouted their IUTA numbers out in numerical order. I even noticed a few Dutch civilians snaking a shot or two of this suspicious gathering. Convoy moves out to the campsite, me following Mr B.J. A few miles later I remembered he was on his way home to Maastricht , out with the map and back to the campsite, to arrive before anyone else. Fraulein SS kindly gave everyone at the camp a lift to the open air Vera Lynn concert held in the grounds of the Hartenstein Hotel, headquarters of General Urquhart during the battle for Arnhem. From a surprising quarter came the all important refreshments. Mr Veldhuizen produced a bottle of Teachers which rapidly disappeared. I must admit that the supplements helped me through two hours of uninterrupted Miss Lynn. Fraulein SS's Dodge then took us downtown to find McDonalds, and maybe an egg McMuffin ? No chance, it was closed and they dont do Egg McMuffins in Holland anyway. The idea of " Itsh completely free for five guildersh only" seems to have filtered down to the civilian population. Whilst sat at traffic lights in the GMC, a Dutchman stood in front, took a picture and then asked if I wanted five Guilders, so in a fit of generosity I told him it was completely free. After the McDonalds fiasco we returned to Oosterbeck, to a bar being used by Airborne Veterans. We mingled nicely and had a pleasant evening. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Last installment to follow...

Back again.... ----------------------------------------- Arrived at the airborne city to find the meeting well under way, with the pope on his papal canvas seat, holding his cut glass, footed challis full of Holy Liebfraumilch. More Dutch members enrolled. St. Martin-In-The-Fields was in attendance for a short time until Southern Comfort caused him to fly, not very gracefully from the Holy City. Your SecGen was well behaved this night and we were literally f*cked off out of the Holy Airborne City by Mr B.J. at midnight. 008 failed again, got pissed and forgot it. Up bright and early the next morning for a drive to Ginkelse Heide, where we were to watch the paras doing their thing. Immediately after parking up the urge gripped me, striding purposefully off into the heath with tissue roll under the arm, I found the perfect thicket, with silver birch canopy, from where I could observe the paratroopery alone and in comfort. On returning to the vehicle column I visited the Minister of Propaganda. This gentleman from Guernsey, an enthusiastic IUTAist (022) owns a Bedford radio truck on which he mounts a P.A. Each morning he would read the IUTA news, usually on the events of the night before, preceded by some messages to our friends in occupied Europe. It had me rolling in my sleeping sack. Poking my head through the door of the MoP, I found yet another IUTA meeting in progress, only this time exclusively for the hard core membership, as space was at a premium. Mr B.J. produced a cold Bavaria from his jacket pocket, opened it in my face and ordered me to drink. The MoP then produced a 155 mm cigar, pushed it in my mouth and ordered me to smoke. Lenny produced a slice of bread and chees and ordered me to be sensible and eat something first. Exited the Ministry of Propaganda to find the sun had increased in brightness considerably. Driven back to the campsite to get ready for the last barbeque, Armageddon, the final struggle between IUTA and the Forces of Sobriety. Starting with a limber up at Grandma's bar with Mr B.J. at the campsite. This prelude was truncated when Lenny came in to order Mr B.J. out to erect the barbeque. Wandering around devouring my grilled steak, I was hailed by Mr B.J. who slapped a dollop of his homemade peanut relish on it. One mouthful set the alimentary canal on fire and rendered consumption of solids impossible. 009 Danny was commissioned to produce a pair of wings for St Martin-In-The-Fields, to make his flights from the Airborne Holy City a little more graceful. A magnificent pair of cardboard ones appeared within the half hour, and were duly fitted to St M-I-T-F. Another addition to the Holy section is 008 Christian. Born on Christmas day, IUTA codename The Immaculate Conception. A splendid display of jitterbugging was given by Fraulein SS and the Immaculate Conception, the former nearly having her bugs jittered off. Barbeque over, the company withdrew to Grandma's gin palace for the prize giving ceremony. Dont ask me who won that, but I do remember buying a round of 28 beers and distributing them from a very large tray to IUTA members without dropping any of them. This was a fine example of the Secretary Generals largesse and composure. Exited the bar to find a crowd surrounding a sedentary Immaculate conception, regurgitating the evenings comestibles. " No constitution, no constitution !" I tod him by way of castigation, perhaps a little harshly. A party of bearers was formed and the unfortunate was orne to his final resting place. I think a caution should be added to to the manifesto advising prospective members that a cast iron constitution is de rigeur. ----------------------------------------------

On we press.... ------------------------------------------------------------------- That afternoon we visited the new Airborne museum at Vehgel, crammed with life size dioramas and historic video films. One of the airborne teenagers complained to me that there was no evidence of British paratroopery. I explained that Vehgel was a US DZ and when he got to Arnhem he could see all the maroon berets he wanted to. The museum was not extensive but Fraulein SS was going to eep us here for two hours, quelle horreur. But I should have known, we had arrived in the wake of the82nd Veterans, so the staff were all geared up for dispensing the great demon itself. Dioramas look far better in double vision. Mr B.J.'s soiree was based upon Liebfraumilch originally destined for the United States. However the resourceful Mr B.J. had diverted a few crates for IUTA purposes. To the sound of Fraulein SS' whistle and siren the convoy pulled out on the final leg......to Arnhem. It was rather a stop start affair and IUTA 008 suggested that perhaps Fraulein SS had waterworks problems today. Mr Veldhuizen had worked out a route of extreme tortuousness, which he prefered to call historical interest. It included climbing the steepest hill in Holland twice. I suppose Mr. Veldhuizen, being a teacher, subconciously inserted this feature for its extreme geographical interest. We arrived at the campsite at Oostereek at 1600 hrs. In pouring rain. Sat in the cab for a while consuming the glove box charge with IUTA 009. Detailed the punk and IUTA 008 to Popeye off to Arnhem to get me an Egg McMuffin. After a couple of Brouwers beers, I jumped out dfor a "between the wheels", heard the sound of conversation coming from Mr B.J's Mack, investigated and Lo and Behold, an IUTA function without the Secretary General present. I was immediately invited in for supplements,in the form of Southern Comfort, Bacardi and Famous Grouse, and all at 4.30 pm.During the meeting, Rodney Rushton IUTA 013 was appointed pope and the Mack was made The Airborne Holy City. Also three Dutch policemen were signed in to IUTA, as well as a Dutchman who, from the back of his own GMC, produced an entire cocktail cabinet, glasses and all, which had ben built into an ammo box. Immediate membership. Towards 9.00 pm your SecGen was succumbing. Motherly Lenny gave him his evening meal, but before she could give him his utensils, he started to use his hands, got most of it in his mouth andthe rest down his shirt. At this point I realized it was hopeless continuing. "Danny" I shaid "Take me home". IUTA 009 dutifully lead me to the back of the Airborne Holy City whereupon I fell out. Staggered back to Schlachthof Funf only to discover the back was still to be unloaded of four GMC tyres. This was recklessly accomplished, resulting in tyres all over the campsite, rolling into vehicles and tents. Retrieval was for the morning. In the mornig, interrogation of IUTA 008 as to the whereabouts of the Egg McMuffin, lead to the confession that he had got pissed and eaten it, along with the chairmans postcard I didn't doubt. This was a non-convoy day. A swim in the Neder Rijn upon which the campsite bordered. In the afternoon Schlachthof Funf was host to a Youth Section meeting (beer only-) over which I presided supping the Germertse Cough Mixture, a taste fo which I had aquired. The level of banter among the Youth Section can only improve with time and most of it was drowned out by pop music anyway. The party dissolved at 5.00 pm. Further detailed IUTA 008 to bring back an Egg McMuffin in an un-eaten state, then went for a recuperative shower followed by a recuperative crash-out to the sound of Radio 4. --------------------------------------------------- More later, stay tuned !

Part 2.... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Campsite for the night at Elsendorp (never heard of it). A quiet night in the bar. At this point I realized that an MV man known to me for 10 years was acting very oddly. He was drinking and having a good time.Earlier in the trip I had also detected nothing of his wife. Answer, divorce,he had no-one to watch, worry about and keep predators off. She had been predated. Of Rodney you shall hear more . Tuesday. Visit the Overloon open air museum. This means that all the exhibits of machines of death and destruction are rusting away. However those inside were very good. In the afternoon we visited the town of Germet. Parked in the square, I then embarked solo upon the search for the Holy Cheap Supermarket Beer, no go, all shut. Foto of me taken knocking on the Burgomeesters door to complain. So to the bar. Shock of recognition, I recognise the interior decor, must have been to Germet in '77. On return to the truck, found that the Burgomeester had awarded each vehicle with a bottle of the local schnapps. Tasted it, retched, and decided that the Burgomeester is having his little joke. It tasted lie cough mixture. Drove to Eindhoven, scene of the MVGC drinking team's glorious victory over the disolute Eindhoven University team in 1977. IUTA 008 had Popeye commandeered at this point for the search for the H.C.S.B., and with local guide it was found, 90 Guilders worth. 120 bottles, enough to stop worrying for the rest of the trip. YSL and IUTA 008, in full uniform were detailed to take the tandem for the torchlight parade to follow. Whilst sitting at the wheel waiting to go, I dashed off a postcard to the Chairman. Vlissingen, Antwerpen, Volkswagen liberated. IUTA: Empire of Evil spreading like the plague. A toast to the absent Chairman drunk at each meeting. The postcard was never posted in Holland, it was lost twice, the second time presumed eaten.The torchlight parade went off without serious incident, the tandem and Michelin man stealing the show, comme toujours. In the bar that night, one of the vehicle owners unknown to me was giving an impression of a Dutcman speaking English, where ess sounds are pronounced esh , and everything has a price tag of five Guildersh, but paradoxically is completely free. His Geneva enhanced performance was so popular that the catchphrase " Itsh completely free for only five Guildersh" spread like wild fire. I have thus decided to award membership to the Durham Dutchman. IUTA 009 had for some days been badgering me for a chance to drive the truck, wednesday was the day. Sadly a GMC is not just a big Popeye. Concentrating on gearing and steering more than keeping up with Fraulein SS and the rest caused us to become completely lost. IUTA 009 conceded deafeat and abdicated. A wild guess at a crossroads brought us back in the fold, and to Castle Henkensharge ( Gen Maxwell-Tayors HQ). A parade of the local dignitaries in knee breeches and Quaker hats accompanied by a pipe band. HRH Prince Bernard was helicoptered in for the ceremony. Mr B.J. refers to HRH as Benny Lockheed. --------------------------------------

Here we go then, I'm not even sure who Dick sent this to, there are various words that time has worn out, I will add dots for the missing bits if I cant figure them out. ---------------------------------------------------- Dear Wordsmith Operation Market Garden launched successfully STOP IUTA: Holy Roman Empire of Evil spreading like the Black Death STOP Chairman unable to assume command due to pressures of work STOP Command passed to Prince Dick of Darkness STOP Member 13 proclaimed Pope Rodney the First, the spiritual leader of IUTA. STOP AND NOW THE FULL STORY. (All characters and events are entirely factual) Schlachthof Funf with Sec Gen and YSL, was accompanied by a jeep called Popeye, crewed by members 008 and 009. Boarded ferry dressed civvy to avoid confusion with the genuine article crossing for exercise Lionheart. That is all except for the punk who, in full uniform, earrings and dyed blonde hair insisted on wandering around the ferry to a series of catcalls and wolf whistles from the Lionhearters. Quelle embarrassment. On landing at Zeebrugge the Lionhearters Lorrys and Landrovers were followed by Popeye and Schlachthof Funf. The disembarkation filmed by Belgian TV. I later discovered from the editor of " Wheels and Tracks", Bart Vanderveen, that the article described the arrival of the British Army but only showed our vehicles arriving, complete with tandem and flashing Michelin man. He said it made his day. The Vlissinghen campsite was reached at day break, just in time for breakfast with Lenny and Mr. B. J. Over toast, eggs, bacon and Bavaria Beer, the IUTA manifesto was read and the operational headquarters was re-established on continental Europe. The IUTA logo stencilled to Schlachthof Funf, was quickly taken up by the Rhinemaster (now official IUTA cartoonist), and applied to Mr B.J.'s truck with great alacrity. That afternoon the convoy made a tour of Walcheren Island, that was captured by the British in October 44 to allow shipping to operate the Scheldt for access to Antwerp. En route Mr B.J.'s 6x4 Macks front slow puncture became a hazard, with no spare this meant changing it round to the rear. Asked, why not pump it up ? Answered, because all the garages are shut on the sabbath. Job done, not easy on a Big Mack, we pushed on 2 km passing a man inflating his tyres with an air line. At the campsite that night, in the beer tent there was a party. A young English gentleman inexperienced in foreign MV tours had come alone in his Jeep, set his tent up further out in the field than most, and being called Martin, Mr B.J. christened him St Martin in the Fields, subsequently his IUTA codename. Inexperience in drinking was rectified that night. Also in the party was Mr. B.J.'s long lost brother who lived locally. He engaged me in stimulating conversation which unfortunately is lost to oblivion. One small bit I remember was his insistance on taking me to see the local nuclear power station in his car but his orange juicing wife sensibly maintained control of the keys. Next day we rallied round to the drivers meeting at the sound of Miss Merike Van Zanten's whistle. She had been put in charge of the convoy for the weekdays, as Marius Veldhuizen, the organizer had also fallen to the pressures of work. Merike, the first woman convoy leader became known as Fraulein SS ( IUTA 014 codename) and everybody obeyed. At the first stop at a memorial, I picked up a Jeep whose transfer case had seized. Towed OK for the next 30 miles on the Autoweg but at the first set of traffic lights the drive let the rope go slack, bang. Out with my Rhine barge standard rope. More later. In Antwerp we visited a private collection of 60 WW2 MV's of a Mr Diefenbach, all nationalities, all sizes, very impressive. Back on the road with Jeep in tow. This was an airborne Jeep, lovingly restored by its teenage owner, inexperienced in foreign MV tours. Airborne Jeeps as you know have no windshield or canvas hood. It by now was raining. Another successful 30 miles later, another set of traffic lights. Bang..... I reminded my co-driver, (IUTA 009) that the last time such a sound occurred the tow rope had broken, but surely not the Rhinebarge rope, my suspicions were confirmed. "You've pulled my bumper off" cried the hapless teenager through the cab window. With the rope more sensibly round the front spring shackle we proceeded. "But carefully PLEASE " whimpered the bedraggled youth. IUTA 009 said he felt so embarressed by the incident and was horrified to see a broad grin on my face and the sound of suppressed laughter was too much. I told him there's always a funny side to things which I often see inappropriately early. I joked with the stunned teenager, that if we didn't reach reach the campsite soon , his Jeep would end up in a plastic bag, being transported in the back of the truck. Stopped in Valkenswaard, this is the town that, when we visited in 1977, P.G. referred to in a speech to the Mayor as Volkswagen. And nobody batted an eyelid, well, except me. Driving through the town, the crowds Dutch people offered waves and cigars and beers all gratefully accepted. The " Michelin Poppet" and the "Tandem" received great attention.The bicycle for obvious reasons, but also the Michelin Man seems to have a great following in Holland. Almost every Dutch long haul truck has at least one. I would often flash my "poppet" at an approaching truck to the drivers indescribable pleasure. The last sentance is not to bbe quoted out of context thankyou. This was a quick flip through Valkenswaard as arch enemies, the Dutch MV Group "Keep Them Rolling" had hogged the square. It appears that KTR, like the MVGC is factionalizing and disintergrating. IUTA is the rising star. Even IUTA tours have been mooted. ------------------------------------------------- That's your lot for the minute, more to follow. Cheers, Dan.

As some of you know, I came to HMVF while trying to find out about Dick Davidson and his CCKW 352. My intro is here... http://hmvf.co.uk/forumvb/showthread.php?48826-30-years-How-did-that-happen I found an old picture of "Schlachthof Funf", his Deuce and a half, being craned onto a train at Tenterden in '85. Sadly, It was titled as " The late Dick Davidsons GMC". Thanks to HMVF Members Richard Farrant, Maurice, wattie and James Gosling I am now aware of the details of his untimely end. I only knew Dick for a year or so, I drifted away from the MV scene but still have fond memories of various events in 1984-85 I attended with my mate John in his early MB and also Dick with the GMC. Without too much more waffle I want to share a report Dick wrote about the 40th Anniversary trip to Arnhem in 1984. I have some pictures and my own memories which I will add at the end but what follows is a transcript of the dog-eared, typed, photocopied report that has kept following me around the country for 30 years. I apologise if any of you are mentioned in a light you would rather not be, I didn't write it so don't shoot the messenger ! I'm going to do it in a few parts because I'm no keyboard maestro :-| Enjoy and feel free to add your Two-Penneth.

My mistake :-)

"Doubt he made it as far as Switzerland with the fuel system leaking everywhere, ha." There you go with them negative waves, Moriarity.... Dunno about the US stuff, it was filmed in Poland so maybe there was still a lot of kit about.

Yeah, two got blown up in the town and Oddball took the other one to Switzerland :-) I read somewhere years ago that all the "Tigery" bits were plywood and chicken wire, etc so may not have survived as long as the T-34 underpinnings.

Brilliant ! How's it going ? I remember the beer and the rest of the beers..... I also remember Dick pulling the bumper off your jeep Great you still have it, I'll post the pic when I start my little thread. Gonna try and track John down too. Thanks for joining in Dan.

Thanks to all of you for the welcome and to those who PM'd regarding Dick Davidson and others. For over 30 years I've had a report that Dick wrote about the 40th anniversary trip to Arnhem and I've always made sure I've known where it's stashed. I would love to share it with the forum, it's photocopies of 4 pages of typewritten A4. It's pretty dog-eared and faded so I may have to transcribe it as I doubt it will scan too well. We shall see. Give it a few days and I'll try and rustle something up. Thanks again, Dan.

Thanks everyone for the welcome and also the possible fridge-emptying service. I'll let you know if I ever have any spare beer . I'm not entirely sure there is such a thing though..... :-)