Sixty five years ago today, January 17th 1952, I seem to recall it was a Thursday, together with other young men, each of us clutching the obligatory brown paper and string, I stood on a platform at New Street Station, waiting to be transported, by steam train, for our involuntary National Service career in the armed forces. Catterick Camp, and the Royal Signals was our destination. My civilian career was just starting to take off. Now it would be on hold for a couple of years.
We climbed aboard the train, and made our way to a compartment. Strangely, for the first few minutes no one spoke, but we were all looking very apprehensive, and at each other, wondering, rather foolishly, if we were all joining up for an army career. Slowly conversations began, and of course, we were all destined for the same army life.
We arrived in Darlington on a bitterly cold, dark evening, to be greeting by screaming N.C.O's, as we were all bundled, like cattle, into tarpaulin covered army lorries, each of us sitting on a long wooden bench.
At this point we all felt doomed, and that the world had forsaken us. For the next six weeks, the world did forsake us.
We were almost the last troops to serve under a king. King George VI died just 20 days later.
That winter the Yorkshire Moors threw everything at us. It snowed a great deal, with snow and ice underfoot. Trying to march, in studded boots, on ice was not funny, and many a recruit slipped over. Again, to be screamed at by some drill instructor, and being informed that they were a complete idiot.
"Dig your heels in, man" they would scream, directly into one's face.
For myself, as a drummer, and having lived a fairly relaxed sort of life since commencing work, the cold hit me hard. Each of my ten fingers split open with the cold (no gloves allowed on parade, or in training). Trying to tie/untie leather boot laces, and buttoning/unbuttoning clothes became difficult, not made any easier by some corporal or sergeant shouting "Outside in two minutes" . We even had to run in the freezing cold wearing just P.T vest, shorts, and pumps.
I survived it, and went on to an enjoyable two year career. My seven month training for a trade, was very intense, and demanding, and coupled with the fact that I managed to play the drums in the camp band, made life a lot easier.
The brown paper, and string???....Oh that was to return our civilian clothes back home, the final vestige of civilian life broken.
Eddie
. When Nasser chucked us out we brought 13 trucks back to the UK mostly RLs we also brought back a Leyland truck set up as an auto electrician's workshop, I think it probably dated back to the late 1920s.
