Big ray

[Big ray]

I remembr old truck chassis having the front hacked off and a drawbar attached. The tractor PTO was then connected through the truck box to drive the axle. Flaming nightmare to use!

 

 

Synchronisation between the tractor wheels and the trailer wheels was not an issue, the PTO would only be engaged in the worst of conditions, particularly when climbing the hills of North Devon, so wheel slip allowed for the difference in synchronisation. Using the truck gearbox sounds complicated, and I can imagine it being a nightmare to operate. :kissoncheek:

[Big ray]

On one of our exercises (combined with NATO forces) during the mid fifties, we were with several armies including U.S. troops. They were, I believe, paid every two weeks and they were a couple of days short of payday, so we paid for a few drinks. When they got paid a couple of days later they showered our guys with drinks, far more than we had purchased for them a couple of days earlier. They showed themselves to be extremely generous people, and I regret to say that a few of our guys were anything but generous in their attitude and response to this generosity that had been extended to us. The actions of some of our guys stemmed from the austerity that we were still experiencing from the wartime rationing that had ceased only four years prior to my induction into the army.... I suppose that the effects were still very fresh in peoples minds. Some of the U.S. troops would leave equipment, hats, belts and the like, and it just went missing, only to re-appear later in some guys room. It was only a very small number of people involved, but the rest of us were pretty disgusted with it all.

Forty years ago in the last house that we occupied my neighbour was a local business man (Trucking business). He had quite a large fleet of trucks, his sister had married a U.S. soldier and was living in Washington State. My neighbour and his wife were showing me some photographs of a country house situated by a lake with a boat tied up at a jetty at the bottom of the garden, all very impressive. He explained that this was a second home belonging to his sister and her husband in Washington State. I commented that he must have a good job if he could afford to buy that place, he replied, no, he`s just a garbage man, and that his sister worked part time. (It certainly made the American dream seem real) Several months later his sister and husband came over to stay with them for a holiday...... she discovered that I liked whisky, and she never came around without a bottle under her arm, she would say we`ll have a snort whilst they drink coffee. It was during one of these visits that I asked if her husband still worked in garbage...... she gave me a long hard look, and then said, come again.......... I instinctively knew that I had been duped, what an idiot I felt, it transpired that he was actually a lawyer...... my neighbour had a wicked sense of humour. :banghead::banghead:

[Big ray]

Correction, in the interests of accuracy I have just remembered that when my neighbour and his wife visited with his sister over in the States, on their return they were telling us about their holiday and I remember that the two "Girls" went shopping in New York for the day. It was obviously Washington D.C.......... NOT Washington State where they lived. Easy to forget, it was a long time ago. :kissoncheek:

[Big ray]

I am just thinking what it might be like for a modern day army volunteer. He or she would be equiped with a mobile phone.. instant access to friends and family, internet inc skype, all I suspect coupled to a totally different attitude from the instructors. Now we had none of these technological marvels, we arrived into what might be described today as a volatile situation coupled to very rigid discipline, we all experienced a very deep sense of isolation from all that was familiar, with no means of communicating, other than by letter.... a very slow means of communication. Any letters that we did send home would contain very little of the discomfort that most of us would be experiencing. Indeed in my experience, most young men are not good at letter writing (or were`nt then) most young men find it difficult to express their feelings on a piece of paper, and those that could would usually avoid worrying their parents, when in fact there was nothing that they could do, home certainly seemed a long way off. Of course all of that changed when you made new, and in some cases life long friendships. Now having said all of that, I did not have to fight in Afghanistan or Iraq like our modern day counterparts, so on balance, I think that todays recruits have drawn the short straw, my parents did not have to worry about my welfare.

I watched a programme on the T.V. recently, all about the Wiltshire village of Wooton Basset.... the small country town through which our fallen troops are repatriated, I found it to be very moving, and a great tribute to the people of this country for spontaniously showing an outpouring of grief for these fallen troops and their family and friends. The only tragedy being that the subjects of this outpouring of grief could not be witnessed, by them for whom it was expressed.

[Big ray]

When getting older you become very reflective, there is little enthusiasm for an uncertain future, but memories are priceless. I still enjoy the friendship of my army buddies who experienced the same things that I did. We re-live our army years every time that we meet, there is something very special about an all male environment, a time when we could all be normal, without the complications that exist when you introduce the female species into the equation, I am sure that the same can be said of an all female environment. I feel so lucky that I was afforded the opportunity to experience all of these things when so many young people have "missed out" on this experience. I have been so lucky in so many ways.:kissoncheek:

[Big ray]

Several years ago I travelled with my military vehicle friends, we are all members of the Military Vehicle Trust, we were on our annual visit to Normandy during the "D" Day comemorations. Several of our group are involved with the Pathfinder Group, they regularly parachute in Normandy and Arnhem, Holland. On this particular visit they were going to parachute over the Merville Battery, (The large artillery gun on display in the corner of the Merville Battery was restored here in the U.K. by one of our members, and delivered to the Battery.) The scheduled landing site was a field adjacent to the Battery, I was nominated along with several of my friends to observe the parachutists as they landed in the field, the field contained corn growing to a height in excess of 3ft high. It was our task to observe that any parachutists seen to land and go down in the corn, must be seen to stand-up, indicating that they were O.K..... I walked across that field before the planes arrived, I could not believe what I found. The field was full of very deep ruts, the tractors had obviously been working this field in very wet conditions and sinking as much as 12inches...... The inevitable happened one guy was seen to land and go down, he did not get back up, so I dashed over, only to find that he had broken his leg.

Another incident during the same drop, one of our guys involved in the drop landed on the roof of a house situated next to the field, he landed at the top of the roof and slid down the tiles, and off down to the yard, he was obliged to give his details to the owner of the property. Several weeks later after his return to the U.K. he received a letter from France, he did not speak french, so had to get the letter translated.... it was from the house owners solicitor, telling him that he was being sued for damage to the roof. They did`nt do that in 1944.

[Big ray]

In 1953 I had acquired my first motorcycle, purchased by Cyril (Uncle/Brother) he was 10 years older than myself, and had served in Germany with the occupation forces, from 1945 untill 1948. He knew that I was desperate to get my hands onto something mechanical and be legal.

My grandfather had been totally opposed to me having a motorcycle, purely on safety grounds, something that I felt was very unfair at the time. However that fear that he arboured regarding my safety was to be brought home to me in the following months. Several of my friends also had motorcycles and we would go out riding in the country or out to the coastal towns at weekends. One of my friends had an older brother who had just completed his National Service in the army. He was a lovely guy, tall, slim and good looking with his cropped blonde crewcut hair. He wore a bright blue gabadine suit, very popular at the time (Italian influence) and thats how I have always remembered him. One sunny Sunday afternoon his friend had offered him a ride on the pillion of his motorcycle, they did not go any distance, only around the houses because several people had asked for a ride on this newly acquired motorcycle, and in fact were queing up to ride pillion. The motorcycle suddenly appeared from one of the side streets, the side street joined the main street at an angle, making it almost a straight approach, however for what ever reason the rider of this machine careared across the road and glanced the opposite roadside kerb, throwing them both from the machine. The rider of this machine suffered cuts and grazes, but the pillion rider was thrown from the machine and collided head first with a tree on the footpath, and was killed instantly. An everlasting memory for me was to see just how distraught his father was, and he never seemed to recover. It had a profound impact on my own attitude towards my own son riding motorcycles, but of course there was no way that I could stop him, I just had to worry like any other parent, and hope that he listened to my advice. Crash helmets were not compulsory in those days...... it might have just made all the difference to the outcome.

[Big ray]

Several of my MVT friends have bannered off to Normandy, France today. They left last night for the overnight drive down to the ferry. I went to see one of them before they left, and I spoke with another two on the telephone. I am sitting here now, in the full realization that they are now in Normandy, setting up their tents for the five day stay, and I`m as sick as a parrott that I am not with them. They did invite myself to join with them as passenger thus making life very easy for me, unfortunately for me I declined their kind offer. They will be having a fantastic time visiting all of the usual places and seeing our friends over there.

I really, really wish that I had gone with them, I will just have to dig out one of my old video`s and relive the experience. :kissoncheek:

[Big ray]

I should mention that my friends who have just gone to Normandy have taken three Jeeps and two BSA M20 motorcycles. They will be staying in either St.Mare Eglise or Carentan, either way they will be travelling between those two towns almost on a daily basis, know doubt stopping en-route at St.Marie-Du-Mont, one of my favourite stops. Passing through this village you approach it and arrive at a 90 degree right turn, the through road then runs for approximately 100 mtrs before taking a 90 degree left turn and on out of the village. On that 100 mtr stretch of the road, we have the village church on the left and two restaurants on the right, where we often stop and dine outside of the restaurant and watch the traffic passing through the village. It seems that almost every other vehicle passing through is a restored WW11 vehicle and often carrying re-enactors in the back. You can usually hear these vehicles before they come into view, and its good fun guessing which vehicle that its going to be.

There is a parking area (single line) opposite the restaurants, outside of the church, often with lots of military vehicles parked there. I think that its time that I should go and watch my video. :kissoncheek:

[Big ray]

Our group arrived in Normandy a couple of days ago, they appear to be experiencing beautiful weather. I have just been informed that a couple of guys making their way to Normandy are limping on three cylinders to the ferry port....... our group have already picked up on their plight and have set-up a makeshift repair shop on their site to receive them, and hopefully rectify their Jeep............ Our area are in danger of being retitled Knights of the road.

I have been with our guys in the past when they have gone many miles out of their way to fix or recover complete strangers who have had the misfortune to break down with their old MV.

Its a real pleasure to be part of their group. :kissoncheek:

[Tony B]

Two essentials for an Military Vehicle. Tow rope and jump leads. If you don't have them you can't help people or people may not be able to help you.

[Big ray]

Two essentials for an Military Vehicle. Tow rope and jump leads. If you don't have them you can't help people or people may not be able to help you.

 

Fortunately there does seem to be a willingness in the club to help, after all, its them today............. maybe you tomorrow. Its also true to say that you derive a good feeling from giving a little help when needed. We have got 2 or 3 people in our group who never seem to have clean hands, they seem to be always under someones bonnet. Put simply, nice peopleto be associated with.

Regards to all.

Ray. :kissoncheek:

[Tony B]

Also adds to the fun. Who really wants to just sit at a show or event drinking beer, oggeling the local talent............:-D

[Big ray]

One day in October 1953 I was standing and talking with members of my family and some other friends, when we heard the sounds of a jet fighter aircraft overhead. Jet fighters at that time were still relatively rare to see, still lots of piston aircraft still in service with the RAF. The more knowledgeable of our group soon realized that the fighter was a Meteor Jet, and that it was obviously performing aerobatics immediately above us. On looking around you could see that by now everyone out on the streets was transfixed by the antics of this aircraft. We watched it for some ten minutes or so performing loop the loops and barrel rolls, then coming out of a very steep climb it dived to earth at great speed. Suddenly the fighter was seen to start to disintegrate after a loud bang, the plane never showed any signs of pulling out of the dive, and it became obvious that the pilot had lost control. The fighter continued in its dive until it crashed in the grounds of a local cricket club, about two miles from where we had been standing. Several of us made our way to the cricket club, by now the police were in attendance and the general public were of course kept at bay.

It transpired that the pilot was a local man and was doing a flying display for his family and girlfriend, in fact, if my memory serves me correctly, he was on one of his last flights before leaving the RAF. It was suggested at the time that he had flown the plane into the cricket ground in order to miss the many houses situated around that site, given that it cost him his young life, I like to think that thats true. I now live within a few minutes walk of that cricket ground and when ever I walk past I always think about that poor man on that day in October 1953. :angel:

[Tony B]

Unfortunatley still a quite common cause of acidents. Look at me folks! I'll be over the house in half an hour.

[ashley]

Hi all just spent five glorious days in Normandy touring the sites to include Omaha beach ,Azaville (sp) battery the Iron Mike statue , Spitfire Bar to name just a few and also had permission to check out a V2 rocket base Ashley

 

 

Edited June 6, 2011 by ashley

[Minesweeper]

One day in October 1953 I was standing and talking with members of my family and some other friends, when we heard the sounds of a jet fighter aircraft overhead. Jet fighters at that time were still relatively rare to see, still lots of piston aircraft still in service with the RAF. The more knowledgeable of our group soon realized that the fighter was a Meteor Jet, and that it was obviously performing aerobatics immediately above us. On looking around you could see that by now everyone out on the streets was transfixed by the antics of this aircraft. We watched it for some ten minutes or so performing loop the loops and barrel rolls, then coming out of a very steep climb it dived to earth at great speed. Suddenly the fighter was seen to start to disintegrate after a loud bang, the plane never showed any signs of pulling out of the dive, and it became obvious that the pilot had lost control. The fighter continued in its dive until it crashed in the grounds of a local cricket club, about two miles from where we had been standing. Several of us made our way to the cricket club, by now the police were in attendance and the general public were of course kept at bay.

It transpired that the pilot was a local man and was doing a flying display for his family and girlfriend, in fact, if my memory serves me correctly, he was on one of his last flights before leaving the RAF. It was suggested at the time that he had flown the plane into the cricket ground in order to miss the many houses situated around that site, given that it cost him his young life, I like to think that thats true. I now live within a few minutes walk of that cricket ground and when ever I walk past I always think about that poor man on that day in October 1953. :angel:

 

About 1979, I called on an elderly couple that I had not met before on business. They were a delightful pair and on their mantlepiece was a photograph of a young RAF Pilot standing next to his Meteor aircraft. I commented on it to them - they told me that this was their only son who had been killed when his Meteor crashed.......

[Big ray]

In 1988 I went with my wife to the Coventry Air Show. After parking the car we headed towards the viewing public, I could hear the roar of a jet aircraft running down the runway on take-off. The aircraft suddenly appeared above the heads of the crowd and I could see that it was a twin engine Meteor fighter. I turned to my wife and said, look thats the model of aircraft that I saw crash onto the village cricket ground in 1953, she lived at that time only about half a mile from the cricket club. I had hardly got the words out of my mouth when the Meteor dropped like a stone crashing to earth and killing the pilot. The air show continued with its programme, but I had lost all interest, I could not take my eyes off the great pall of black smoke that was rising into the sky. My memories of the 1953 crash came flooding back, and I remember thinking that the pilots family and friends would now have to given that terrible news. I cannot imagine what it must have been like for that couple to lose their only son when flying a Meteor, particularly when you consider that they must have been very proud to tell their friends that their son was a fighter pilot with the RAF. The world can be a very cruel place, lives can change in seconds.

[Big ray]

Hi all just spent five glorious days in Normandy touring the sites to include Omaha beach ,Azaville (sp) battery the Iron Mike statue , Spitfire Bar to name just a few and also had permission to check out a V2 rocket base Ashley

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I have just spoken on the telephone with one of our group who have been to Normandy, he has been telling me what a fantastic time that they have all had, I knew that I would wish that I had accompanied them on their visit......... apparently they have had some very late nights socialising with US troops who are billited adjacent to their camp site.

[Big ray]

I am 74 years old, all of my life I really believed that you could throw anything at me and I would deal with it, I really believed that. About ten years ago I was driving a truck north on the A50 through Cheshire. I was following a car at a nice steady speed, we drove into a steady curving righthand bend, suddenly we were confronted with a crash scene. Literally seconds before we drove into that bend two vehicles had collided head-on. A Land Rover that had been driving north seconds in front of ourselves had collided with a Ford Transit van travelling south. It appeared that the driver of the Land Rover had suffered a heart attack as he went into the right hand bend, he never straightened up his vehicle and crossed into the path of the Transit, colliding in such a fashion that both drivers would have been looking directly at each othe at the point of impact, so both drivers areas suffered all of the damage. No other vehicles had reached the crash scene at that point, other than the car immediately in front of myself and me. The two people in the car got out immediately and started to walk back past my vehicle, the man saying, we cant deal with this. I climbed from my truck and approached the Transit, the front end was smashed back to the windscreen, it was that flat. The driver was a young guy of I guess about 30 years old, he was covered in blood, but completely coherent. His first words to me were, Why me?, of course I had no answer to that question, on looking closer to his situation I could not beleive that this guy was still alive, everything was smashed into his body. I stood so close to him that if I had leaned forward our noses would have touched, such was the frontal damage to that vehicle. I tried to comfort him by talking and telling him that the emergency services were ontheir way, every now and again he would stop what we were doing and look very intently into my eyes and say, get me out please......... when I tell you that he was so entangled in the metalwork of that vehicle, I wondered how anyone could possibly get him out. I had never felt so impotent and totally inadequate in my life. I was just counting the seconds for the emergency services to arrive. I had checked on the other driver, he was dead, either from the impact or the heart attack, he was just slumped over the wheel of his motor, the damage to the Land Rover was considerably less than that to the Transit. By now there was a considerable build up of stationary traffic in both directions, when suddenly a motorist parked behind the Transit suddenly appeared and said at the top of his voice, this vehicle is on fire...... I just ran like a lunatic into a truckers yard and asked if they had got a fire extinguisher, the guy that I asked said NO, I then spotted a water hose, asked him if it would reach outside and was the water on, he said yes. I ran outside with the hose, but quickly ascertained that the vehicle was not on fire, but was dropping diesel from a fractured fuelk pipe onto the hot exhaust system. By now my heart was racing at a considerable ammount of knotts. It had been a real shock to my system, I grabbed the man that had told me AND more importantly the trapped driver that it was on fire, I am not a violent man, but I threatend to knock nine bells out of him for his lack of consideration for the trapped driver, can you imagine how he must have felt, thinking that the vehicle that he was trapped in was on fire. The emergency services arrived and asked me if I had witnessed the accident, I replied no, and asked if I could be excused and allowed to continue my journey. My whole nervous system was a wreck for the remainder of that day, and I realized for the first time in my life, I cannot handle litterally anything thats thrown at me, I have my limitations. My daughter-in-law was at that time a ward sister in the hospital, and I am sorry to say that she informed me that that poor guy did not make it.

[cosrec]

Your posting has reminded me of something that happened to me. About 45 years ago. My father drove a recovery vehicle for local company we had been out all day towing a vehicle from east Yorks back to Manchester i was taken along for the ride as a school kid. As we came back a thick fog decended. As we arrived at the depot the petrol pump attendant ran out and said the local Docter had rung up and asked for my dad to give him a hand on a job a little way down the road. In those days the Fire Brigade didnt attend RTAs. When we arrived the whole scene was that of people oggling a guy being trapped in a bedford TK crushed into the back of an eight wheeler truck. I had to sit in the wrecker an AEC materdor and i watched my dad drive the eight wheeler truck forwards clear of the scene. he then hung the winch rope on the screen pillar of the Tk and winched the front of the cab out. Then i remember he came bare chested to the cab and asked me to take my shirt of he went back to the accident scene and seconds later i saw the driver being lift out and put into an ambulance. Next i saw my dad smack a guy so hard he went like a ton of bricks, He was promptly put in the same ambulance.

Later that evening i was in bed but heard voices so crept to the bottom of the stairs i heard my mum dad and doctor and the village bobby talking. I remember the Dr saying regardless of wether their going to make it or not you dont talk about it in front of them. The Bobby said something along the lines Ok so i will make sure it goes no further.

As an aside to this very shortly after this the Dr Mekienze started a scheme called the Flying Doctor to cover RTAs in East Yorkshire and my dad who went on to become a publican became one of there best fund raisers. The casulty ended up a parapligic but went on to become a writer. The other guy had his broken jaw wired up and became a regular in our pub

[Big ray]

Your posting has reminded me of something that happened to me. About 45 years ago. My father drove a recovery vehicle for local company we had been out all day towing a vehicle from east Yorks back to Manchester i was taken along for the ride as a school kid. As we came back a thick fog decended. As we arrived at the depot the petrol pump attendant ran out and said the local Docter had rung up and asked for my dad to give him a hand on a job a little way down the road. In those days the Fire Brigade didnt attend RTAs. When we arrived the whole scene was that of people oggling a guy being trapped in a bedford TK crushed into the back of an eight wheeler truck. I had to sit in the wrecker an AEC materdor and i watched my dad drive the eight wheeler truck forwards clear of the scene. he then hung the winch rope on the screen pillar of the Tk and winched the front of the cab out. Then i remember he came bare chested to the cab and asked me to take my shirt of he went back to the accident scene and seconds later i saw the driver being lift out and put into an ambulance. Next i saw my dad smack a guy so hard he went like a ton of bricks, He was promptly put in the same ambulance.

Later that evening i was in bed but heard voices so crept to the bottom of the stairs i heard my mum dad and doctor and the village bobby talking. I remember the Dr saying regardless of wether their going to make it or not you dont talk about it in front of them. The Bobby said something along the lines Ok so i will make sure it goes no further.

As an aside to this very shortly after this the Dr Mekienze started a scheme called the Flying Doctor to cover RTAs in East Yorkshire and my dad who went on to become a publican became one of there best fund raisers. The casulty ended up a parapligic but went on to become a writer. The other guy had his broken jaw wired up and became a regular in our pub

I suppose that its easy to be wise after the event, but people really should be careful what they say when around injured or trapped people. When I was a young guy in my mid twenties I suffered a blow to the back of my head, I could feel the blood running down my back, so I knew that it was a serious laceration. I was of course concerned, but not overly worried untill one of my friends walked behind me and said, GOD, come and look at this... I immediately went into shock and lost my memory, I had visions of my brains hanging out.

Another occasion was after my surgery following my heart attack, I regained conciousness in the ward, I found myself to be facing the wall when I awoke, I was all wired-up and unbelievably weak, I must have moved an arm or a leg, when I heard someone in one of the other beds say, look, he`s waking up, and then a member of STAFF saying, leave him alone, he is extremely ill.......... that comment coupled with my extremely weak condition convinced me that I was about to die............ I did not even eat food for a week. The wrong comment can have a more devastating effect than the actual medical condition. Its got to be better to "play" things down a little.

[Big ray]

How times have changed, in the 1950s you could not go onto a railway station in any reasonable sized town and not see another service guy or woman, army,airforce or navy, they just seemed to be everywhere. I remember well that you only had to be in uniform if you needed a lift, you would be picked up within a few minutes. Today people are afraid to stop and give a lift to a stranger, its all getting very sad. I was amazed how many people that I knew in my pre-army days were stationed in Germany, and I "bumped into" over there. I was detailed to receive a visiting football team on one occasion, the visiting bus drew into the sports area of the workshops and I stood at the open bus door greeting the visiting team, when one of them stepped from the bus and said, Hi, what are you doing here. It was a former friend who lived just a few houses from myself. On another occasion I delivered some mail by motorcycle to a camp in Dortmund, I walked into the guardroom to book in and a voice from one of the cells called out my name, he was another guy who lived a few houses fromy family home. Its a small world really, and getting smaller.:kissoncheek:

[Big ray]

On Sunday the 3rd of July 2011 I attended along with another of our group a National Service Day (RAF) at Cosford Air Museum, Nr Wolverhampton. I believe that the day was organized by the Staffordshire branch of the National Service Association of the RAF. I was amazed at the large number of attendees, some even being WW2 vets. The weather was absolutely glorious sunshine, one of the warmest days of the summer so far. Most of these vets were in their late seventies and eighties and a few older WW2 vets. All of these people were soon lined up and taking orders from an ex- drill instructor, he could still belt out the commands and I was surprised at the ability of these men to respond in true military fashion, maybe the moves were not quite so crisp, but they were all together. Although I qualified to join these men on parade by virtue of my ex-National Service status, I refrained from doing so because I am ex-army, and this was a day for the RAF. The very warm weather took its usual toll on the "Troops" with two or three of them fainting in the heat..... nothing changed there then, all very realistic. I am sure that everyone had a fantastic day, I certainly did, and it all illustrated to me just how much these gentlemen must have enjoyed that two years that the government of the day "robbed" them of.......... all of the printed words in the world will not convey the real comeraderie of that time, how I wish that I could do it all again. :goodidea:

[Big ray]

A good friend of mine was admitted into the hospital for what should have been a minor procedure a couple weeks ago.

I wished him well, and said that I would see him soon. I was absolutely shell shocked to hear that he passed away a couple of days ago. He was a particularly good and valued friend, I am now full of remorse for never telling him so, now its too late. So if you have friends that you really value, tell them so, its important.