AlienFTM

A prized possession from my youth was a book, number 1000 by (Pelican?), one of whose juniors was Edward White who became the first RNVR submarine commander, of HMSM Storm, so after the war they published his autobiography, "One of our Submarines" as Pelican(?) 1000. I remember there being a Submarines song to the tune of 10 Little Indians (as per the PC brigade) entitled 10 Little S-Boats which described the death of the S-Class Submarines in turn, being bombed, depth-charged or whatever. The song was never finished.

A variation. If you play Command and Conquer Red Alert 2, the premise is that Einstein created a time machine and went back to the 1930s to kill Hitler, only to discover a new reality where Stalin fills the void.

He was still asleep lol.

... and unditching beams in the event of bogging.

Oh it didn't start with the CVR(T)! On patrol along the UN Danish Contingent's Green Line in the Troudos Mountains of western Cyprus just after the war, my Ferret struck a rock that was a larger than I'd thought. I stopped at the next observation post while the troop leader chatted with the Danes. Briefing over, the two-car section started up to move on to the next OP ... except that my Ferret would not start. Our track ran through a minefield so we couldn't get the other Ferret alongside to jump it, so I decided to bump it by rolling it down the hill in gear. It started and I did just about manage to stay inside the mine tape. I kept the engine running through the rest of the patrol and we made it back to our base at Skouriotissa, where we got our attached REME fitter to check it out. He quickly concluded he'd need to change the starter motor , so he phoned the Light Aid Detachment back at out Force Reserve Squadron's main base at Nicosia Airport and they despatched a new starter motor. In the meantime, Screach the fitter set to removing the old starter motor. The FSC guys here will tell you that removing a FSC starter motor without a pack lift is not an easy task. What made it worse was that 01 EC 28 was, IIRC, a Mark 2.4 with applique armour retrofitted to an older model Mark 2 to bring it up to Mark 2.3 factory standard, which was what the bulk of the squadron had. Unfortunately investigation quickly revealed that the base for this particular 2.4 was a very early chassis with unfeasably small access panels in the belly which had been revised and enlarged in subsequent models. I think it was a 9/16" AF spanner he needed to remove the three mounting bolts while lying on jis back underneath the beast. Unfortunately the issued 9/16" AF was far too long to fit through this access panel and locate onto any of the bolts. Screach got back out from under and got back on the blower to Tiffy back in Nicosia. "Take the hacksaw in your toolkit and cut your spanner in half." He did this (it wasn't easy - they were tough spanners) and set back to work undoing the three bolts. I kept him supplied with tea while he worked. There was nothing else to do. After about six hours' work the three bolts were removed and all cabling disconnected and in the dead dark of night between us we managed to manipulate the old starter motor around the engine and out through the top. (The replacement had turned up hours before.) It took another six hours to manipulate the new starter motor back the reverse route into position, bolt it in place and wire it up. I pressed the ignition button and ... it just about coughed but wouldn't light up the engine, exactly as it had been out in the hills. The second day's patrol was carried out by the troop's other section as usual while Screach tried everything he could to sort out my problem. I do believe Tiffy came out to have a look. (Tiffy became a good friend on our return to Tidworth where he told me he had previously been attached to 1RTR and had been stood just off-camera when the legendary "I'm a professional Chieftain gunner, I get £40 a week" advert was filmed, waiting to fix the Chieftain if it broke down.) By late afternoon Tiffy had given up and ordered that the Ferret be driven back to the LAD at Nicosia where they could lift the pack and carry out better diagnostics because they had all the kit. This was quite fortunate for Rommel (the troop leader) because there was a dining-in night in the Officers Mess that he'd normally have missed, but somebody had to command his Ferret back to Nicosia. Of course there was the small matter of getting the Ferret started. I cannot remember why after 32 years, but jump starting was not realistic, but luckily the bungalow had been built above the quarry floor (or maybe the quarry had been dug down below the bungalow?) so the track had an earth ramp down to the ground. I took my place in the driver's seat and about four people took a wheel each and pushed me down hill (pushing the wheels reduced the rolling resistance of trying push start the vehicle from the body). It lit up first time thank goodness and we were off. We did Skouriotissa over the mud track through the mountains to Nicosia in 45 minutes in the gathering darkness, which wasn't bad since the best UN time for that route was 34 minutes in a lightweight Land Rover in daylight, in the dry without having (as it turned out) to rely on 12v of light from the 24v headlights. Yes, after the REEMS had spent another 12 hours working on my FSC we discovered that when I'd hit the bump the previous day, the right-hand battery had moved, touched the side of its box and welded itself thereto. I had been trying to drive a 24v FSC on a 12v system. Drop in a new battery and 01 EC 28 was right as rain. Well, sort of: a month or two later I had 01 EC 28 taken from me and was given a newly-refurbished Mark 2.3 straight out of workshops.

In the cavalry we always maintained that a flying 120mm Sabot round was a great cure for haemorrhoids.

Hangs head in shame. Wrong as usual.

I'd definitely suggest the former. If I designed an atomic cannon, I'd make sure it elevated to 45 degrees to make sure it had enough range, so it it would not need to be low-slung like that.

I have a warm feeling about Tony B's Foreign Legion suggestion. Flaming grenades are very popular with them and like he says, they used a lot of cast-off US (and other) kit prior to the Day of the Jackal putsch that almost saw them disbanded entirely. See Simon Murray's seminal work: Legionnaire - nowadays it has a subtitle: Legionnaire: An Englishman in the French Foreign Legion, a masterpiece of FFL history. Indeed the only description of those events available to an official historian (who had access to the Legion archives) was to quote from Murray's book. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simon_Murray

The cast hull would imply an M4A2 Sherman. Does this apply to a Grizzly?

#1 (extrapolating from me conclusions for 2 and 4): is it perchance a very early forerunning of the Spaehpanzer Luchs based on the M8 Greyhound chassis? #2 looks like an M24 Chaffee chassis (try saying that when yer drunk). My guess for #3 is a Boarhound armoured car chassis. #4 is obviously an M4A2 chassis. My guess is they are all immediate-postwar prototypes, and 2 and 4 were both replaced in service by (is it?) the M42 Duster on a Walker Bulldog chassis.

Yes I have told you about me book. I have finished about six chapters up to and including my return from Omagh where I had been section rifleman. Started on Tidworth as a Scorpion crewman and came to a stop last September for my daughter's wedding. Never got going again. I had hoped to clock up a couple of weeks'worth on the holiday that I am just back from but ... It will be called "A Tracked Armoured Car" due to recce crewmen spending their lives explaining to civvies that a CVR(T) is not a tank, it's ... Don't hold your breath.

Blashford Snell - there was a man. Whilst researching my book I stumbled across this page: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/1514628/Ken-Mason.html It refers to Capt The Rev Basil Pratt. He was padre to 15/19H when I joined in Omagh in 1976. There was a disco every week (Friday? Traditionally Army discos are on a Thursday so as not to interfere with the weekend, but on ops in NI I am sure the disco was on a Friday.) On my first disco night I stood in the crush for beer in the NAAFI lounge (the queue was marginally shorter than in the bar) and found myself with an extremely close view of the back of the leather jacket in front of me, emblazoned "HEAVEN'S ANGELS". Stood in the queue, its wearer turned and, not recognising my cherry-boy face, introduced himself ebulliently with Sandhurst accent and hand outstretched as far as possible in the crush. "Hi. The name's Pratt. Basil Pratt. Pratt by name and Pratt by nature." What a great welcome to the regiment. We stood and talked (well, he talked) for longer than was absolutely necessary. He great stories of his adventure with Blashers two years earlier. But what stuck in my mind was. "The leathers? I ride a BMW R90 (which was as big / good as it got in the 70s). Did you know, I can pull up at a red light and sit there for 30 seconds waiting for them to turn green without ever putting my feet down. Low centre of mass and perfect balance." If I had had any doubt before, there was none now. At the end of the tour and we returned to the mainland, first thing I did was buy my own bike. Great stuff.

Correct. Whereas (in the 1970s) RAC soldiers were taught to drive Land Rovers prior to taking their HGV course, I know of trained crewmen who did not have a car licence. I remember one friend. His daytime job was to drive Zero Alpha, the prime Regimental HQ Armoured Command Vehicle. The Saracen ACV required a Group B (automatic gearbox) licence and the Sultan that replaced it obviously required H, but he did not have a full licence to drive his VW Beetle. In BAOR we drove out own vehicles on a BFG licence which was dead easy to get either by waving your UK licence or the Army would back up your military driver training. (We had to do a theory test on driving in Europe, and later it was decreed that junior ranks had to resit it regularly.) The BFG licence database was still maintained by hand by CPO BAOR in Moenchenstrapback until the mid-80s and it was possible for errors to occur. My mukker got his licence addressing him as Lance Colonel (LCol) instead of Lance Corporal (LCpl). His next renewed licence came back without the word FULL crossed out to indicate it was provisional. Shortly thereafter the UK decided to recognise the BFG licence and issue UK licences off the back of the BFG, because it discrinated against wives who learned in Germany. Dave ended up with a full UK licence without ever taking a test. I can talk: a similar sleight of hand got me a full bike licence without ever taking a test. But that's another story.

As did the REME, to whom I was attached for three years. Their stable belt had a twist-to-open buckle: my Latin was good enough to know they were trying to wind me up when they tried to convince me ARTE ET MARTE meant TWIST TO OPEN. 15th/19th The King's Royal Hussars stable belt had leather buckles. I still have mine somewhere I think. It has probably shrunk after all those years in the wardrobe.

After all these years I am having a mental block on the Ferret. I am sure it was the Mark 4 that introduced Fox technology most noteably in the form of larger wheels and float screens, but I cannot for the life of me remember where that leaves the Mark 3. Perhaps the Mark 3 was the new-technology equivalent of the Mark 1 where the Mark 4 was the new-technology equivalent of the Mark 2? The Mark 5 took the new technology and replaced the MG turret with a Swingfire ATGM turret. From a distance it was not difficult to mistake a Ferret 5 for a Fox. Obviously the T34/85 is a no-brainer. And I agree with Bloodhound as the missile. It must be over 40 years since I owned a Corgi (Dinky?) metal Land Rover towing a Bloodhound on exactly the trailer shown here. I vaguely recall the missile may have had a soft red rubber pointy-end. And we thought Health and Safety was a modern curse?

Intrigued by the use of the word Kättenkrad. I understand that the umlauted "a" is modified in Norwegian the same way it is in German, becoming an "e" or long "a" sound depending on context. However, the German word for tracks is actually "Ketten" with an "e" where Kettenkrad is a contraction of Kettenkraftrad, translating as "tracked motorised bike" (Kraftrad is actually an old word for motorbike). So I am guessing that the use of the word Kättenkrad is actually from the Norwegian form. Isn't it amazing the things you learn?

At Catterick in 1975, after Basic Training, our intake split five ways into RAC Soldiers and RAC Crewmen: the crewmen split into CVR(T) and Chieftain and also into drivers and gunners. All the crewmen did a radio course, then D&M or gunnery. I did Scorpion Gunnery. One of my erstwhile colleagues, having gone to the CVR(T) Driver course, told me in the NAAFI one evening about his brush that day with North Yorkshire's finest. The policeman flagged down the Scorpion on the A1 and after instructing the learner driver to switch off the engine, he beckoned the commander to listen in to the bollicking. "I have no intention of embarrassing myself by standing up in front of the magistrate and telling him, 'I was proceeding southbound along the A1 at 50mph when I found myself being passed by a tank.' Don't do it again."

In the cavalry the question never arose. We messed as a crew out of (usually) 4-man Compo packs. After removing the binding tape (which was actually wire when I first joined) and opened the box, the first thing that leapt out was an envelope marked READ THIS FIRST or some such. This contained enough tracing paper to satisfy four bums once each (being good regular soldiers) per day; a book of matches (everybody, including non-smokers carried a cigarette lighter anyway); a menu telling us what was in each menu Pack (the outside of the box was marked MENU A though about MENU H) and a compo can-opener. Along with the cigarette lighter to light the stove, everyone carried a compo can opener - about 1.25" metal strip by 1/2" with a hook to open cans. It also opened bottles. Besides, we tended to carry cans of Brown Ale rather than bottles, 1. because bottles might break and 2. because in those days Brown Ale travelled marginally better in cans than bottles. (Pleased to report that last time I had a can of Dog - Brown Ale - they had mastered the art of exporting it beyond the boundaries of the Tweed and the Tees.) Officers often took bottles, but in the form of Famous Grouse ("bird") and if their whisky broke it was their fault. It didn't require a can opener, but it did do a good job of purifying tea. RSM: "Trooper Alien, make me a cup of tea and make sure you purify it." Me: "Eh?" RSM: "There's a bottle of bird in the Ferret top bin." Me: "Wilco." So we never needed to get up and go to the vehicle to open a can or a bottle.

AIUI three Shermans were real. ALL the rest were Land Rovers.

Website: http://www.armymuseums.org.uk/museums/0000000107-Royal-Logistic-Corps-Museum.htm However, I have to point out that their instructions recommend the M3 Junction 3. I used to work the other side of Junction 3 nearly 20 years ago. To get off the M3 at J3 at all London-bound, if I did not reach J3 before 0800hrs, I did not get off. The commuter traffic joining there backed up the motorway for miles. It has only got worse since and during the rush hour, gridlock is the word of the day.

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Last set of pics, top right. Is it me wearing my stupid hat or is that a Spitfire? Cos if it is, I have some issues. The wing shape screams at me that it is a Mark 1. The flat-sided canopy and twin-bladed screw screams early Mark 1. But the colour scheme screams Mark 6 PR (high tail fin and extended wingtips for increased high-altitude performance) and the number of exhaust stubs screams something between a Mark 5(? which saw a whole raft of improvements) and a Mark 11 (because the Mark 12 saw the replacement of the Merlin with the Griffin engine. I have a link suggesting that some six Mark 8s were retrofitted with Griffins but even so ...).

Frankly I was expecting the ancient joke about bee pee.

Like the only known existing Panther F Schmalturm at Bovvy - full of holes from being on the ranges at Lulworth for decades before anybody recognised it for what it was.