Big ray

[Big ray]

I left my local railway station at 10.30 am, bound for London, then change trains for Blandford in Dorset, on the south coast of England. Firstly you must understand that travel in the 1950s was a very limited activity for most people, including myself. I arrived at blandford station, a very small town, at 9.30pm. We were greeted by a lot of military personel, they were very brutal in their manner towards us, We were ordered onto the waiting trucks to take us to No1 training battalion, REME. (Royal Electrical & Mechanical Engineers.) It was a dark, cold, winters night, not a very auspicious beginning, in fact quite a frightening experience for a young man of 18 years. I can assure you that at this time my two years service seemed like an awful long time, I was to say the least very depressed.......... no internet or mobile phones in those days, you felt very isolated, and far from home.:cool2:

On arrival at the camp, now rather late at night, we were issued with blankets, pillows and a bed. This was a wartime camp that had been hastily erected during the early part of world war 2, subsequently it was not very comfortable. It was built like most british camps of the period, a so called spider design, and construted of wood. There was twenty or so beds in each wing, with one stove pot fire........ the fire was totally useless in terms of heating capacity, remember this was the depths of winter. We had arrived in the dark, so we were totally unfamiliar with the outlay of the camp. In the cold light of the following morning we found it to be a very depressing place. Worse was to come.

[Richard Farrant]

Hi Ray,

 

Keep the story going, I am sure many of us are reading it, thank you.

[Big ray]

On arrival at the camp, now rather late at night, we were issued with blankets, pillows and a bed. This was a wartime camp that had been hastily erected during the early part of world war 2, subsequently it was not very comfortable. It was built like most british camps of the period, a so called spider design, and construted of wood. There was twenty or so beds in each wing, with one stove pot fire........ the fire was totally useless in terms of heating capacity, remember this was the depths of winter. We had arrived in the dark, so we were totally unfamiliar with the outlay of the camp. In the cold light of the following morning we found it to be a very depressing place. Worse was to come.

The following morning our first task was to go to the clothing store to be issued with our equipment. The storemen were obviously very skilled, all of the kit, uniform etc, fitted me very well. It was on this first morning that we discovered that we could no longer walk anywhere, everything was done at the double. I dont think that I can convey to you the fear that was instilled into us, you have to realise that the class distinction at that time was very strong, something that the Americans found very difficult to understand when they encountered it during the second world war. ( That has all now been totally eroded. ) Trying to explain class distinction in print is like trying to explain smell, very difficult, its something that you have to experience.:cool2:

[abn deuce]

Interesting detail about the Shermans , having to be cut in a exact way ! A good start , getting the feel of the camp and all. Suprised that the clothing you got fit you ..... I would say many in the US Army would say the gear almost never was the right size !

[Big ray]

Interesting detail about the Shermans , having to be cut in a exact way ! A good start , getting the feel of the camp and all. Suprised that the clothing you got fit you ..... I would say many in the US Army would say the gear almost never was the right size !

 

I guess that I may have been lucky with the fit of my uniform, but equally, I do not remember anyone else complaining about the fit of their uniform....... what I do remembern was the way that some guy`s had no idea how to wear their beret, some would stick out at the side like an aircraft wing....... I still chuckle to myself all these years on when I think about it. The Shermans had to be cut in a particular way because the export of military equipment to Israel was forbidden.:cool2:

[Big ray]

I guess that I may have been lucky with the fit of my uniform, but equally, I do not remember anyone else complaining about the fit of their uniform....... what I do remembern was the way that some guy`s had no idea how to wear their beret, some would stick out at the side like an aircraft wing....... I still chuckle to myself all these years on when I think about it. The Shermans had to be cut in a particular way because the export of military equipment to Israel was forbidden.:cool2:

 

One of the first tasks that we had to perform was the parcelling-up of our civilian clothes, and send them back home. Obviously this task was to lesten the possibility of anyone slipping into civvies and absconding. Another ploy to help prevent absconding, we had no shoulder flashes or acorps markings... perfectly plain uniform, untill we completed our training, this would of course make you stand out like a sore thumb to the local military / civilian police. We never had any spare time from the moment that we arrived at the camp, this again was to ensure that you had no time to think about absconding.:cool2:

[Big ray]

One of the first tasks that we had to perform was the parcelling-up of our civilian clothes, and send them back home. Obviously this task was to lesten the possibility of anyone slipping into civvies and absconding. Another ploy to help prevent absconding, we had no shoulder flashes or acorps markings... perfectly plain uniform, untill we completed our training, this would of course make you stand out like a sore thumb to the local military / civilian police. We never had any spare time from the moment that we arrived at the camp, this again was to ensure that you had no time to think about absconding.:cool2:

 

The military intended right from the outset to instill fear into all of the recruits, they achieved this initially by cracking down hard on any infringement of military rules, no matter how small, and indeed in some cases when no infringement had taken place. This kind of military thinking kept you very much on your toes.... It did of course lesson in its intensity as your training progressed, and you got to know your drill sergeant better. I have to say in retrospect, although at the time it could be very unpleasant, it did work, and most of the recruits did behave very well. Over time your drill instructor inevitably began to mellow ( only slightly) but it did make you feel so much better.

[fesm_ndt]

I dont think that I can convey to you the fear that was instilled into us, you have to realise that the class distinction at that time was very strong, something that the Americans found very difficult to understand when they encountered it during the second world war. ( That has all now been totally eroded. ) Trying to explain class distinction in print is like trying to explain smell, very difficult, its something that you have to experience.:cool2:

 

I think it is hard to convey, but it is still military (Army) doctrine to break you first so that individuals begin to act as a team. Most people would think you could just say sod off but the best way I describe it is that they 'own' you.

[Big ray]

I think it is hard to convey, but it is still military (Army) doctrine to break you first so that individuals begin to act as a team. Most people would think you could just say sod off but the best way I describe it is that they 'own' you.

 

Absolutely, the reality is that when you are given an order you respond instantly, without question, and that is only right...... people lives could depend on you doing what you are told, when you are told, instantly, without question. So one has to say that the thinking behind it is very sound.:cool2:

[Big ray]

Absolutely, the reality is that when you are given an order you respond instantly, without question, and that is only right...... people lives could depend on you doing what you are told, when you are told, instantly, without question. So one has to say that the thinking behind it is very sound.:cool2:

 

Although the experience at the time came as quite a shock to the system, an overriding memory is of the friendships that you formed, almost instantly. Putting a group of young men into identical uniforms was a tremendous leveller...... your financial background was concealed immediately, you all looked the same. Friendships were formed very quickly, and very strong bonds formed. Unfortunately some of this bonding was to be broken some eight weeks later, because, unlike regiments the REME was attached to other army units or workshops. This inevitably meant that you were split up from most of your friends for the rest of your service, not to see them again untill returning to Arbourfield Depot for discharge from the service.:cool2:

[fesm_ndt]

Absolutely, the reality is that when you are given an order you respond instantly, without question, and that is only right...... people lives could depend on you doing what you are told, when you are told, instantly, without question. So one has to say that the thinking behind it is very sound.:cool2:

 

unfortunately some of the drill instructers are sadistic. I did my traing in '86, you would think we were semi civilised by then...... We had 2 dark guys in our platoon and the DS, nicknamed them Toby and Midnight. They used to make them lie at opposite ends of the hall way with their mouths open and the DS used to post golf balls at them..

 

Some DS get a bit mental, apparently not changed as got a big email from a new recruit last week

 

Memories...........

Edited March 20, 2010 by fesm_ndt

[Big ray]

unfortunately some of the drill instructers are sadistic. I did my traing in '86, you would think we were semi civilised by then...... We had 2 dark guys in our platoon and the DS, nicknamed them Toby and Midnight. They used to make them lie at opposite ends of the hall way with their mouths open and the DS used to post golf balls at them..

 

Some DS get a bit mental, apparently not changed as got a big email from a new recruit last week

 

Memories...........

 

Our Drill Instructor was not sadistic, just very keen on discipline. We were all very bad at drill initially, but as time passed we improved. To start our D.I. told us that we were the worst platoon that he had had the misfortune to have to drill, however by the end of our training he began to tell us that we were the best platoon. Phsycology, how it works!!!! I suppose that we just wanted to believe him. Rifle drill was one of the more difficult drills to nail, if you dont get it right, the noise from the rifles should sound as one, not some kind of a drum roll. We did however get it all right in the end. The only thing that remained at the end of our training was the Jabs (4) depending on where you were being posted. It was very entertaining watching grown men turn green at the thought of these jabs, including myself.:cool2:

[Big ray]

Our Drill Instructor was not sadistic, just very keen on discipline. We were all very bad at drill initially, but as time passed we improved. To start our D.I. told us that we were the worst platoon that he had had the misfortune to have to drill, however by the end of our training he began to tell us that we were the best platoon. Phsycology, how it works!!!! I suppose that we just wanted to believe him. Rifle drill was one of the more difficult drills to nail, if you dont get it right, the noise from the rifles should sound as one, not some kind of a drum roll. We did however get it all right in the end. The only thing that remained at the end of our training was the Jabs (4) depending on where you were being posted. It was very entertaining watching grown men turn green at the thought of these jabs, including myself.:cool2:

 

We spent many hours during the long winter evenings sitting around the stove pot fire and a burning candle. The candle was to heat up the handle of your spoon, you then used the heated spoon to iron out the dimples on the toes and heels of your marching boot. Once that you had achieved a nice smooth surfaces on those areas you applied spit and polish. Anyone not familiar with this process, you rub copious ammounts of polish mixed with spit onto the toes and heels, eventually you get quite a build-up of polish. You then have to buff this untill you can see your face reflected. It`s now extremely important that you protect those boots to prevent any damage. That task completed you now set about ironing your clothes, to do that we used brown paper and water. Now you can clean up your bed space, that done and you can now retire to your bed, ready for the 5.30am call. It really was not so bad, you did all of this collectively.:cool2:

[Tony B]

Funny enough my son just passed his first TA selectuion weekend two weks ago. Much the same on a smaller scale. Take you out of your comfort zone, give you starnge tasks make sure you are at full stretch all the time. Even he, who is quite shy, said it was amazing how the group he was with became friends. Partner's in adversity.

[fesm_ndt]

We spent many hours during the long winter evenings sitting around the stove pot fire and a burning candle. The candle was to heat up the handle of your spoon, you then used the heated spoon to iron out the dimples on the toes and heels of your marching boot. Once that you had achieved a nice smooth surfaces on those areas you applied spit and polish. Anyone not familiar with this process, you rub copious ammounts of polish mixed with spit onto the toes and heels, eventually you get quite a build-up of polish. You then have to buff this untill you can see your face reflected. It`s now extremely important that you protect those boots to prevent any damage. That task completed you now set about ironing your clothes, to do that we used brown paper and water. Now you can clean up your bed space, that done and you can now retire to your bed, ready for the 5.30am call. It really was not so bad, you did all of this collectively.:cool2:

 

I am told the Aussie Army have completely stopped this as switched to the khaki boots. I would have thought they would have keept it for recruit training though but I guess that means an extra pair of boots. Spit polish was a huge problem in Australia because when hot it just melts off. So a trick was, after recruits was to use a small brush and paint your boots in gloss black paint. Some used spray paint, but I liked the small brush as less likely to crack. Only problem was in the Aussie heat your boots don't beathe so your feet get toasty during those really long parades, when politicians used to like to ramble on etc..

 

Keep it up Ray, you are reminding me of (can't say fun times) but perhaps the best achievement wise

[Big ray]

I am told the Aussie Army have completely stopped this as switched to the khaki boots. I would have thought they would have keept it for recruit training though but I guess that means an extra pair of boots. Spit polish was a huge problem in Australia because when hot it just melts off. So a trick was, after recruits was to use a small brush and paint your boots in gloss black paint. Some used spray paint, but I liked the small brush as less likely to crack. Only problem was in the Aussie heat your boots don't beathe so your feet get toasty during those really long parades, when politicians used to like to ramble on etc..

 

Keep it up Ray, you are reminding me of (can't say fun times) but perhaps the best achievement wise

In a strange sort of way men enjoy doing military training, its that sense of achievement that you get when it all comes together. Marching when done well looks and feels good. Towards the end of our basic training our passing out parade was done to a marching band, now that`s something else, you really do stick your chest out, and you get a real spring in your step........... sounds silly really, but it`s perfectly true, I am sure any ex-squaddie worth his salt would confirm that. Another thing that sticks in your mind is the vast lines of recruits waiting to be served at the N.A.A.F.I. I remember that when we had received our jabs towards the end of training, we were given time off to go to our barrack room. Most guy`s went down like flies, shaking violently, I seemed to be unaffected, so I went along to the N.A.A.F.I. I waited in a long line to be served, but by the time it was my turn I had become violently ill and shaking, just like everyone else............ not as tough as I thought that I was.

[abn deuce]

While some people's bodies have a greater ability to handle a cocktail of multiable injections all at once , I dont't think that many really do .Some may be slower to react than others , can't be fun to experiance .

[Big ray]

While some people's bodies have a greater ability to handle a cocktail of multiable injections all at once , I dont't think that many really do .Some may be slower to react than others , can't be fun to experiance .

 

We completed our basic training at Blandford Camp, we were then trucked to Barton Stacey, Nr. Southhampton, Hampshire. This was to be the next phase of our training, and included driver training. Well in the 1950s the vast majority of young guy`s in the U.K. had, had little or no access to a motor vehicle, that probably sounds very strange to to-days youngsters. It would take the next several of my entries to explain the difference between todays society, and that of the immediate post war years..... Anyhow my practical experience with military vehicles prior to my induction into the military was now going to stand me in good stead. Ti try ti illustrate the difference, during one of our early musters at the new camp, we were asked by the NCO in charge if any of us had a driving license. Out of the whole parade only two of us stepped forward, can you imagine that today, I think that only two would have not stepped out. I heard the NCO ask the other guy if he had been driving the family car... I dont know what he answered, I could not hear, but my answer was, No, all things military. He looked somewhat perplexed and ordered me to remain on the parade ground after dispersal. I was then told to get into one of the nearby trucks and drive him around the parade ground......... I was excused any driver training.

[Big ray]

Barton Stacey was no different in disign than our previous camp at Blandford had been, the usual rushed wooden spider construction, indeed the only relatively recent addition to the site was the garages and workshops, these were the only brick and steel constructions on the site. I suppose that because I had been excempted from driver training, along with my physical stature, 6ft tall, I was noticed by the regular staff, in any event I was chosen to march the men to the cookhouse for meals, plus a few other activities. I would like to have thought that I was chosen for my inteligence, but alas, I suspect that it was for the afformentionedreasons. My time spent at Barton Stacey was not a total waste of time, I did give additional instruction to the more difficult recruits, even continuing with this help long into the evenings. I have little knowledge of the actual tuition given, or indeed where it was given outside of the camp. Discipline was just as rigid in this camp has it had been in the previous one. I personally did never do a normal guard duty, but like many others did what they called vehicle picket, this involved patrolling amongst the parked vehicles during the night, keeping guard. On one of these duties a guy from Manchester patrolled with me, he wanted a smoke, something that we were not allowed to do, so I sugested that he should hide himself in the workshop and have his smoke, whilst I acted as lookout. The workshop was of course in complete darkness, and had to remain so if we did not want to attract attention to ourselves. Suddenly I heard a loud cry and subsequent moaning sounds. I was forced now to turn on the lights, only to discover that my friend had fallen into an open inspection pit. He had sliced his cheek completely through on the steel edge of the pit. There was almost no bleeding, I retrieved his cigarette and gave it to him to smoke ( He was in shock) only when he tried to draw on the cigarette did I realize that he could not do so, because the air passed through his lacerated cheek.:cool2:

[Big ray]

Barton Stacey was no different in disign than our previous camp at Blandford had been, the usual rushed wooden spider construction, indeed the only relatively recent addition to the site was the garages and workshops, these were the only brick and steel constructions on the site. I suppose that because I had been excempted from driver training, along with my physical stature, 6ft tall, I was noticed by the regular staff, in any event I was chosen to march the men to the cookhouse for meals, plus a few other activities. I would like to have thought that I was chosen for my inteligence, but alas, I suspect that it was for the afformentionedreasons. My time spent at Barton Stacey was not a total waste of time, I did give additional instruction to the more difficult recruits, even continuing with this help long into the evenings. I have little knowledge of the actual tuition given, or indeed where it was given outside of the camp. Discipline was just as rigid in this camp has it had been in the previous one. I personally did never do a normal guard duty, but like many others did what they called vehicle picket, this involved patrolling amongst the parked vehicles during the night, keeping guard. On one of these duties a guy from Manchester patrolled with me, he wanted a smoke, something that we were not allowed to do, so I sugested that he should hide himself in the workshop and have his smoke, whilst I acted as lookout. The workshop was of course in complete darkness, and had to remain so if we did not want to attract attention to ourselves. Suddenly I heard a loud cry and subsequent moaning sounds. I was forced now to turn on the lights, only to discover that my friend had fallen into an open inspection pit. He had sliced his cheek completely through on the steel edge of the pit. There was almost no bleeding, I retrieved his cigarette and gave it to him to smoke ( He was in shock) only when he tried to draw on the cigarette did I realize that he could not do so, because the air passed through his lacerated cheek.:cool2:

[Big ray]

On completion of our training at Barton Stacey, where incidentally although I had been excused any driver training, I did have to take my driving test along with everyone else. The test involved driving down to Southampton, around the dockland area,and the back to the camp. On completion of my test I was told that I would be retained as a driving instructor, and promoted to corporal. I was very lucky that I managed to wriggle out of that one, but they did post me to North Africa, again (its along story) I managed to get that changed to West Germany, I did not know at that time where in W. Germany, but that did not matter... I don`t like excessively hot weather. I was told by the sergeant that he had never known anyone to get their posting changed!!!. We now all went home on 2 weeks embarkation leave. We returned to camp and trained up to Harwich Docks to take the overnight ferry. I dont think that anyone of our party had ever been out to sea.

The ferry set sail at approximately 10.0pm, we were closed down in the bowels of the ferry, we were not allowed to come up on deck at any time during the sailing. We felt the rumble of the engines and knew that we had set sail, it was very smooth. What we did not know was that we were in the inner harbour, once that we had passed into the outer harbour and through into the open sea, it became extremely violent. The ferry pitched and tossed like a cork, we were lying in bunk beds, with very little room between the bunks, and if you occupied a lower bunk (I did) then the bunk above was only a few inches from your nose. At one moment you were being pushed through the bottom of your bunk when the ferry was rising on what must have been very large waves, then momentarily weightless when on the crest of the wave, you remained somewhat weightless as the ferry dropped into the trough....... and then the whole thing was repeated. This could not continue for very long before taking its toll.......... almost to a man we were violently sick............... We could not get off that ferry fast enough the next morning.

[Big ray]

We had arrived at the HOOK of HOLLAND. We left the ferry to catch the train that would take us through Holland and Germany to our destination, in my case that was Hamm, Westphalia. We were given the colour of our train ( cant remember the colour) but I do remember thinking that it was a very good and simple way of making sure that you were on the correct train. Once on the train I waved to some rail workers as we left the station, they gesticulated back to me in a very unfavourable fashion, I was not very impressed, particularly when I felt that we had recently liberated these people from the nazi yoke...... not just us but the allies. We continued on our uneventfull journey through Holland and into Germany..... I was very impressed by the cleanliness in Holland, even falling down garden sheds were painted and looking bright. We eventually arrived at Hamm station, six of us alighted from the train to be greeted by a driver and truck, a Bedford Q.L. troop carrier. We were transported a couple of miles to our new home ( Newcastle Barracks) considering that my home town is Newcastle Staffs, I remarked to my fellow travellers that I thought that I was back home, and that this might be a good omen.:kissoncheek:

[Big ray]

Please feel free to stop me if I am taking up valuable space !!!!!!!!!:kissoncheek:

[abn deuce]

I have been reading every word and didnt have any questions to ask or comments as you filled in the details just fine and others seemed to be adding their's please continue!

[fesm_ndt]

yep brings back memories.....