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First Aid Kit


Ian Dunn

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Has anyone got the CES for the vehicle first aid kit as found in 4 tonners and below

in 70's and 80's

 

thanks

 

Ian

 

I don't know what your problem is. At a kit check, when the Kit, First Aid, was checked, all anybody cared about were scissors and eye-bath since everything else was by its very nature expendable. ;o)

 

On exercise we were issued morphine on a scale of one ampoule per crew, for which the commander was responsible.

 

In our regiment, every night (and after any significant movement) everybody did a physical check of Arms and Ammo, Binos and Bodies and reported up the chain of command the simple message, "Alpha Alpha Bravo Bravo correct." Thus anybody who had lost his weapon knew when he last had it and by referring back to the Locstats (Location States) would know how far he had to go looking for it. (The term "Binos" included all G1098 kit on signature and the morphine ampoule.)

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My old boss used to tell a humorous tale of his time doing National Service in the late 1950s. He was in the East Surrey Regiment. His lot were out on Ex digging trenches and other useful holes. On completion they had to fill them all in again and when this was done one of them found that his Sten was missing. So they had to dig out all the holes looking for the gun, which was never found. The army deducted the cost of it from his pay.

 

MB

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My old boss used to tell a humorous tale of his time doing National Service in the late 1950s. He was in the East Surrey Regiment. His lot were out on Ex digging trenches and other useful holes. On completion they had to fill them all in again and when this was done one of them found that his Sten was missing. So they had to dig out all the holes looking for the gun, which was never found. The army deducted the cost of it from his pay.

 

MB

 

We came back from our UN tour of Cyprus in March 77. On our last weekend there our troop ate out. Little did I know I was incubating a stomach bug. Back to Tidworth and I found myself banged straight on guard, which also involved reporting to the Guard Room at lunch time to be trained in the art of fire fighting since our guard duty included Fire Picquet. In the event of a fire, while everybody else waited for the Fire Brigade, the Fire Picquet doubled to the Guard Room, collected a red horseless chariot full of hoses and attachments, galloped off to the fire pulling the fire cart behind us and fought the fire (in theory).

 

During lunch the bug finished incubating and I went to the Squadron Sergeant Major to report Special Sick (you are normally only allowed to report sick at Sick Parade, first thing in the morning). He was just putting his phone down, being told that Tpr Alien was absent from Fire Picquet Parade. He believed I was reporting sick because I was making an excuse for missing Fire Picquet.

 

Eventually he organised me transport and I was taken to the Medical Reception Station at the other end of the garrison. There was nobody in to declare me sick, so they told me to report sick in the morning. When I informed the SSM of this he replied, "So you are okay to do Guard tonight. Get out of my sight."

 

I dragged myself to Guard Mount at 1800 where the Guard Commander, NCO I/C Marching Reliefs (his 2IC) and the whole guard agreed I was too sick to stag on. They put me to bed and covered my stag between them. Thoroughly decent blokes.

 

Next morning I reported sick. When I returned to the block, the SSM asked how sick I was. When I told him I was being admitted and was only here to collect a small pack with necessities, he went white.

 

So it came to pass that I was one of the last in-patients at Tidworth MRS. I had all the nurses (and a medical Brigadier who happened to be passing) to myself. A few days later they let me out and I returned to camp to find it strangely deserted.

 

I had recently left a sabre troop to become Squadron Leader's driver. The squadron had gone out on exercise without me. My old (but fresh-out-of-Sandhurst) Troop Leader had upset my old driver once too often and in a fit of pique, Jock allegedly buried his SMG in the middle of Salisbury Plain wherever they had parked up that night.

 

Come the nightly AABB check of Arms and Ammo, Binos and Bodies, Rommel had to explain why he was one (his own) SMG down.

 

It turned out the whole squadron was out digging up Salisbury Plain in search of this SMG.

 

The Commanding Officer was less than happy. He suggested to Rommel that if he didn't want to suffer the ignominy of a court martial, maybe he ought to resign his commission. Rommel refused. He presumed to know damn well that Jock had done away with his SMG and flatly refused. The CO did now want to court martial him and somehow Rommel got away with it. Then insult, injury, etc, the regiment was notified of Rommel's promotion from 2Lt to Lt. There was much ire that an officer was promoted for losing his SMG.

 

Of course I cannot confirm that Jock buried the SMG: I was not there. But as far as I know, the SMG is still there ... somewhere.

 

The SSM was so wrought with guilt that I believe he removed my name from the duties list, since it never came around again on that tour. Until we got a new SSM. I'd have gotten away with it if it wasn't for a pesky Trooper in our squadron failing to turn up for Guard Mounting one weekend and I got rubber-dicked to cover it. The Guard Commander promised he'd let the SSM know I'd most generously stood in for the absentee. Which was a bummer, cos now the new SSM knew I ought was missing from the duties list.

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The reason it was done, the Troopy in Question used to just grab any gat when he had to dismount, so jock went for a shovel recce with the Tpy's and buried it. Over the next day when he got off he got passed another one, so come AA/BB time tpy's had been missing 24 hr.

 

Bazz.

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