OUR LAD RICKY

Our Lad Ricky - What People Say!

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 14:16:56 +0200

Hi Michael, I have just finished reading 'Our Lad Ricky' which I bought from you when you were at Newport Library rececently. This book took me right back to my initial training during my time in the RAF, 8 weeks in 1952, it was word for word exactly as I remember it and I have enjoyed recounting my memories, many thanks for that!

Bob Williams, Newport

I really wanted to congratulae Michael on the book.
Our Lad Ricky was one of those books you just cant put down. I usually read the first few pages of a book to see if I like it and then read the rest later, however with this book I found myself just reading on, much to the annoyance of my husband who kept saying "turn the light off". I thought it was well written and very funny - the laugh out loud type. I especially liked the story when 'Ricky' needed an injection and the needle just went straight through - skinny fella that he was (evidently) and the stories referring to the antics with his siblings. It also reminded me of my childhood when we put bread bags in our shoes to stop our feet getting wet in the winter and how i would sleep under the duvet (what i refer to now as doing an eski') because our house was soooo cold - life before central heating and double glazing hey.
Many Thanks and cant wait for the next book.

Keri Eagle, Taunton

I enjoyed your book. It brought back many happy memories of my days in the Army in the 50s & 60s

Peter Corder, Ryhl

Once I started reading this book, I couldnt put it down, really enjoyable read, with some parts that made me laugh out loud, earning me funny looks from work colleagues or passengers on the train, can't wait for the next installment, Well done Michael!

Rob West, Reading

I have finished reading your book really enjoyed it, very funny couldn't put it down. Looking forward to reading your next one.

Rachel Norris, Tipton

Well - it looks like you have a best seller on your hands. I have read your book along with several of The Royal Oak regulars, who have all commented on how thoroughly enjoyable the book is. I myself certainly agree and can't wait for the next installment.
Well done Mick.

Phillip, The Black Country (Gods country!)

Myself, June and Josh have only read Four chapter's and we just can't stop laughing. Brilliant, Well done Michael.

Dave, Tipton, West Midlands

A really good read, really funny, I really enjoyed the book, [times were hard but by golly there was fun times too] GOOD LUCK WITH IT!

Pam Vernon, Newport, Shropshire

What can I say! Absolutely Brilliant!! Have laughed my socks off. Cant wait for Ricky the Early Years to be published. In my opinion there both set to be bestsellers!!!

Theresa Beard, Rugeley, Staffordshire

Haven’t had chance to read it yet myself, but it kept Linda quiet for two whole evenings (apart from the regular laughter outburst). So your book has to be really good. Well done and congratulations on getting it published. Can’t wait for my turn to read it!!

Len Downton, Rugeley

Excellent book, well written and amusing. Read it in one evening,
I can recomend this book to anyone, could become a best seller.
Congratulations!!!!!!!!!

Dave Morgan-Williams, Newport

Fantastic book so funny and wrote so well realy enjoyed it

Mandy Thomas, Newport, Shropshire

Can't wait to read the book! I am so happy for you Uncle Mike. Best Wishes from Lloyd, Rita and Matt.
(Maybe a future Movie in the making, eh?)

Rita Goldberg, SF, California

I've read the medical story on your web page..and im going to buy your book.

Yvonne Ruston, Tipton, West Midlands

Hilarious, even though I've heard some stories before it still made me giggle out loud. Can't wait to buy the book.

Denise Astbury, Newport, Shropshire

Comments

A Chapter from: Ricky - The Early Years!

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 13:13:29 +0200

The following weekend, the same two friends, and I had an hour or two on Lichfield Golf Course searching for lost Golf balls. It was a poor day; we set off home with barely half a dozen, not enough to make the trek to the Golf Club worthwhile. To get back to ‘our’ H Block side of the barracks we had to make a detour around the school, passed the post office and across the sports field. Unfortunately, for me, as we were rounding the school, our path was blocked by half a dozen or more I Block gang members. They recognised me instantly. Several of them had had the misfortune of running into Kev and Don on previous occasions. They ignored my friends. Instructing them to let Kev and Don know that Ricky was now considered a prisoner of war!

Two of the gang left to meet Kev and Don and to convey their terms for my safe release, which was, two shillings and the total surrender of the sports field for a week. The sports field, with its great cricket barriers on cast iron wheels, the pavilion and other outbuildings, was an ideal area for war games. Alternatively we could play cowboys and Indians or such game. The cricket barriers and pavilion taking on the form of forts, castles, or battlefield defences. The meeting place would be on fairly neutral ground, waste ground, at the edge of the woods between the barracks and the Golf Course. At this point, there was a high bank, which provided an advantage to whoever held it. Around the foot of the bank grew huge Blackberry bushes, a regular feasting ground in early autumn and great swathes of stinging nettles. The meagre few that had captured me were joined by a couple of dozen other I Block kids ranging in age from five to fifteen. One produced several feet of barbed wire, which they decided to place loosely around my chest in case of any funny business. They escorted me, hands tied behind my back, to the top of this bank and there we waited.

We did not have to wait too long. We heard them coming before we saw them. Emerging from the woods and approaching the bank, were fifteen to twenty H Block Kids. Kev, the H Block Gang’s elected leader, and a chap called Young; the leader of the I Blocks moved front and centre of their respective armies.
“You agree to stay off the sports field for a week?” Called down Young.
“A week” agreed Kev. He did not fail to note I was loosely entwined in barbed wire.
“And the Two Shillings” asked Young. Kev held out his hand to reveal the money. Young was strutting up and down the brow of the bank. He knew he held all the cards; one false move and they would push me down the hill, barbed wire, and all, into the Blackberry bushes and stinging nettles. He stopped; taking centre stage, with his arms behind his back and rocking back and forth on his heals. “Take your shirt and pullover off!” Young demanded.
“Why?”
“Just do it or else he gets it” he declared pulling me forward. “And you too Don”
My brothers removed their shirts and pullovers and stood with bare chests before their own gang who stood around in tense silence. “Now roll up your trouser legs!” demanded Young again. My brothers knew what was coming. Nevertheless, they complied with his demands.
“Now bring the money up here, straight up here, in a straight line”. The I Blocks were now, fully aware of the ignominious ordeal of what Kev and Don were being forced to do. They had to walk, straight up the bank, clambering through the large Blackberry Bushes and the swathe of stinging nettles to deliver the ransom money.

They both, with no hesitation, and without a flicker, struggled calmly through that torment to the top of the bank. There they handed over the two shillings to Young. I looked at Kev and Don. Their chests, back and legs were full of scratches; in addition, their legs appeared as if they had chicken pox, covered from thigh to ankle in bright red spots from the stings they had sustained. Kev stepped forward and removed the barbed wire and untied my hands. He pushed me to the right, indicating I should leave the bank the long way round and join my comrades at the foot of the bank. As I walked away all hell broke loose. Kev gave a mighty swing at Young and Don followed suit by attacking the nearest I Block member to him. There was a mighty roar as the I Block gang sprang to their leaders defence. It took just a few minutes for the remainder of the H Block gang to rush around, up and over the bank.
There were boys rolling around, fists flying, kicking, biting and pulling each other’s hair out by the roots. I ran back to join in the fray, it was the least I could do, searching for someone as little as I was to have a go at. No sooner had the fight started it was all over.

The I Block gang members scattered, retreating hastily back to their own side of the barrack square. They shouted abuse, shook their fists, and swore vengeance. Nevertheless, the day belonged to H Block. The gang fined me two weeks pocket money for getting caught in the first place. The gang spent half an hour or so searching for dog leaves and horse chestnut leaves which we crushed with our hands and spat on them before handing to Kev and Don to rub their legs with in order to relieve the excruciating stings. Forming up into a loose rabble, we marched triumphantly back to H Block.

The following week, during school, we received a written challenge from I Block. They challenged us to meet them in the alleyway that ran alongside the NAAFI. There, we were to engage in a battle they said, that would decide once and for all which gang ruled Whittington Barracks. Of course, refusing the contest was out of the question, our pride was at stake. It was agreed that we would meet on Friday at dusk, about 6 p.m. in the alleyway. Kev came up with a cunning plan. The day before the battle, Kev had his gang collected a tea chest full of bricks and stones, which we, as soon as darkness fell, hoisted up onto the flat roof adjacent to the alley? Beneath this flat roof were the storerooms for the NAAFI. The NAAFI itself had a normal sloping tiled roof. While Kev and Don were up on the roof they found that there, was a drainpipe there leading down into the yard behind the NAAFI? In the yard there was stored several stacks of crates of beer. Full crates on one side, empty crates on the other. They stacked four or five on top of each other.

The day of the battle soon arrived. As soon as I had eaten my dinner Kev and Don took me to the NAAFI and, with Kev lifting me from below, and Don pulling me up by the arms, they hoisted me onto the roof. I had not been on a roof before and the height was frightening to say the least. “Now, when the I Block gang come along the alleyway”, I was instructed, “down this way“, Don indicated from right to left, “you let them have it with these bricks”. I was quick on the uptake. I picked up two or three stones in my left hand, and transferring them one at a time to my right hand, had a few practice throws. “Like this, wam, wam!” I blurted excitedly. Throwing the stones as hard as I could into the alley. “That’s my boy,” confirmed Don, “And don’t stop till we tell you, or you run out of ammunition, OK?”
“OK”
“Now don’t let them see you” Don continued “or it will give the game away”
“I won’t,” I promised. Don skirted back down the drainpipe and disappeared.
I began to worry about how I was going to get down again!

Lying flat on my tummy, I could peek over the side, over the guttering, to each end of the alley. I did not have to wait for very long before large groups of children gathered at either end. Both sides had their artillery. Groups of boys who believed they were pretty good with their catapults, others had broom handles. It was beginning to get dark and I was beginning to become fearful about the battle, what if we lost? Then I began to panic. Which way were the I Blocks coming from, was it from left to right or right to left? I could not remember. Beneath me, the two armies shouted taunts at each other.
“Come on then!”
“Let’s be at them!”
“You first!”
“No you attack first!”
“Scaredy cats”
“I Blocks am Idiots,” we taunted.
“H Blocks are Hideous” the retorted. And so it went on.

Finally, after much taunting and shouting the two sides moved as one. The two groups of children charged towards one another down the alley. I had to make a decision quickly. Taking up handfuls of bricks, I began to hurtle them with all the force my little arms could muster down on the enemy. There were casualties. I could hear the ows and oohs as my missiles struck home. Kneeling, frightened to stand lest I fall, I continued my mission with earnest. Suddenly Kev’s head appeared above the guttering, “not us you big clot, them over there” he said pointing in the opposite direction. Feeling rather foolish, I adjusted my aim accordingly. However, I had used a quarter of my ammunition on my own men!

The battle raged on and on, it lasted oh, a good ten minutes or so. Ultimately, the enemy began to fall back, holding their heads, eyes, or bloodied noses. With a cheer, we watched them go. The traditional catcalls followed them and they retorted with threats of equal force vowing, we were lucky this time but we will not be so lucky next time. We had not gotten off lightly; we had a fair number of casualties ourselves. Don had a bruised eye, which he claimed he got early on from a catapult. Kev looked at me, but said nothing. Others had scratches, assorted bumps and bruises. Most of them showed off these ‘wounds’ with great pride. We did not hear from the I Blocks for a while and if our paths crossed, we tended to give each other a wide berth, at least for the time being.

That Saturday night, knowing that the NAAFI would be closed on Sunday, y brothers and another gang member carried out a Commando Raid on the NAAFI. Three crates of beer were liberated from the confines of the yard on the other side of the flat roof. We carried the crates to a secluded spot close to the coke yard. As we walked along, swinging the crates between us was singing heartily:

A Double Diamond
Works Wonders, Works Wonders, Works Wonders
A Double Diamond Works Wonders,
So Drink One Today!

We thought it highly amusing to substitute the word ‘Drink’ with ‘Nick’ during the last line. With a bottle opener borrowed from home, we opened every bottle. We all tried the beer, but almost all of it was poured away over the waste ground. We had seventy-two empty bottles of beer; there was thrupence return on each empty, which came to eighteen shillings. We should also receive one and six for each crate. Another four and sixpence. However, Kev claimed, that as he was the gang leader, and the mastermind behind the outfit, he should keep the money from the crates. No one argued with that. That meant each of us would get four and six each and Kev would get nine shillings. Not a bad days work eh? We agreed that Kev, Don and I would take the crates and empties back during our school lunch break on Monday. With that, we hid the crates, camouflaging them with branches and leaves.
Monday arrived and we were eager to cash in our investment. So saying we returned to the waste ground near the coke yard and retrieved the crates and empties and made our way to the NAAFI. We marched in triumphantly and placed our crates alongside each other on the counter.
“Mother said if we returned these for her, we could keep the money” Kev informed the sales assistant. She checked each crate to make sure there were no bottles missing and went to the till. Just at that moment, the door to the storeroom and the yard opened and in entered the NAAFI manager. We went pale. Two military policemen accompanied him.
“I can tell you quite categorically” the Manager was saying, “that there were eighteen full crates of Double Diamond when we closed on Saturday”
The police officers were diligently taking notes.
“And now there are only fifteen, those thieving kids have been around”, the Manager moaned.
The Manager turned toward the counter and stopped dead in his tracks. The police officers could not believe their eyes either. There on the counter were three cases of empty Double Diamond.

On the other side of the crates were three, very worried, very nervous little boys. The police officer looked from Kev, to Don and then me. He could only see the top of my head. He leaned across the counter to get a better look at me.
“How old are you boy?” He asked.
“I am six in October!” I declared, six next October made me sound older than five last October.
“The bottom fell out of the coke trade has it?” asked the policeman.
We stood in silence, head bowed.
“And who’s idea was this little caper?” he asked. Silence.
He leaned on the counter again and looked down at me.
“We are seeing a lot of you lately aren’t we?” he said, “You’re a little monster!”
“He is not a monster!” declared Kev angrily coming to my defence. “His name is Ricky!”
“Well Ricky, shall we go and see if your Mother thinks you are a little monster or not!”
Before you could say ‘Jack Robinson’, we were ‘arrested’.
Even though we lived just fifty yards from the NAAFI, and could see our front door from the NAAFI entrance we were carted off to the Guardroom. Mother was summoned. We were all treated to her right hand ‘feint’ and left hand uppercut and dragged off home. At home, she gave us a second helping of her unique form of punishment, not for stealing the beer, but for pouring the beer away before taking the empties back!

The following day we returned home to find our baby sister in tears and a strange man in the house. Daddy!

Comments

Our Lad Ricky - Chapter 1

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 12:20:46 +0200

Chapter 1

SUCCESS AT LAST!

We had caught the No 74 bus from Stone Cross to Wolverhampton and had spent most of the half hour journey in silence. I was naturally nervous because it would be my third time at the recruiting office in Queen Street in the last six weeks. I had also made two other attempts to enlist, once in Birmingham and once in West Bromwich. The nearer we got to Wolverhampton the more nervous Ben was getting. Ben was going to sit my medical for me.

“You sure this will work Rick?” he asked.
“Course it will, the doc will just give you an eye ‘n hearing test, listen to your chest and hey presto your in, or rather I’m in!” I replied.
“What if he starts asking awkward questions?” Ben moaned, “What will I tell him?”
“Trust me”, I said, “He won’t”
I did not tell Ben he would check his rear end, feel his balls and ask him to cough a couple of times. I thought I would leave that for him to find out for himself. If I had told him I was sure, he would chicken out.
“Tell you what!” I said, “I will give you five bob now, and the other five bob after, deal?” I fished a couple of half-crowns out of my pocket and handed them across. The original deal had been the ten bob if our little ruse was successful. Ten bob was a lot to me! Half a week’s wages. We pulled into Queen Street, Wolverhampton. “Here we go Ben” I said getting up “Let’s do the business”

The bus stop was in the middle of Queen Street and the Army Recruiting Office was down the end of the road, about a hundred yards from the stop. I could feel my stomach churning over and the closer we got the more nervous I got. Poor Ben looked petrified, “Piece of cake” I told him patting his back. “You’ll walk it”. When we got to the recruiting office, Ben continued to walk on past it as we previously planned. He would wait outside the Red Lion half way between the office and the doctors.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and walked in. The CSgt sitting at the desk looked up. “Hello lad” he said, then said “Oh it’s not you again? I told you last time to leave it two or three months”.
“I have been training” I said, “been doing morning and evening runs down the cut, I’m sure I’ll pass this time”.
The CSgt sighed loudly “Can’t do it now son”, he said, “you have to come back like I said, in two or three months”
At that Moment the door opened and a Major walked in “’morning CSgt, how’s things this morning”.
“Oh honky dory” he replied “was very quiet this week”
“And who is this young man?” he asked.
“Mr. Houston” I told him.
“This is his third time here Sir” the CSgt told him “keeps failing his medical”
“Houston, Houston, that’s familiar, have you been to Birmingham as well lad?
“Yes Sir” I replied.
“And to West Bromwich?”
“Yes Sir”
“Thought so, you see lad, I am the OC for South Staffordshire, all those recruiting office’s are part of the South Staffordshire Recruiting Team, never forget a name“
“Yes Sir” I said again. “You think you can pass this time lad?” asked the Major. “Oh Yes Sir! “ I replied enthusiastically “I know I will”
“Ok, I will make a deal with you, if you fail; you don’t come near any of my recruiting offices again until next year, if you pass all well and good!”
“Ok Sir - but I know I will pass”
The CSgt put together the forms necessary, sealed them in an envelope.
“Trust you know your way by now lad, off you go”
I took the envelope from the CSgt and headed for the door. Just as the door was closing behind me, I heard the CSgt tell the Major “He’ll never pass so long as he’s got a hole in his arse! - He suffers from asthma”
“Probably right” replied the Major.

Ben and I walked down the street to the Doctors’ surgery.
“You’re likely to drop us both in the shit!” moaned Ben.
I fished out the second installment of five bob and jiggled the coins under Bens nose.
“Easy money my mate, pass or fail the five bob is yours” I said, “You’ll be in and out before you know it” We stopped twenty or so yards from the Doctors
“There it is”, I said pointing, “Come on mate, in you go” Ben took the envelope from me “This better work” he said.
“It will” I replied sounding far more confident than I was actually feeling.

Following Ben’s disappearance into the Surgery, I spent the next half of an hour pacing up and down nervously. It seemed to be taking an age. Finally, Ben appeared and before he got halfway towards me, he began shouting
“You little bastard, you lying toe rag - you never said I had to drop my keks”
“Oh didn’t’t I“ I replied, “Must have slipped my mind.”
“You’re a conniving sneaky bastard Rick,” exclaimed Ben “That bastard doctor spent ages just feeling my balls”
“Don’t exaggerate Ben,” I said, and then “Did you pass?”
“How the hell should I know, he never said”.

I took the sealed envelope from Ben and when we arrived back at the Recruiting Office Ben carried on past to wait near the Bus Stop. When I walked back into the Recruiting Office the CSgt was not at his desk, but the Major was. “How’d you get on lad?” He asked holding out his hand to take the envelope from me.
“I think I passed” I replied the fear in my voice plain to hear.
“’Have a seat” said the Major running his finger under the flap of the envelope.
I sat down, my knees were beginning to tremble nervously and I was gripping my hands tightly together.
“Hmmm“ remarked the Major as he reached up to scratch his forehead.
He looked at me and then back at the paperwork.
“Hmmmm!” He flicked over the page “Hu hu!”
He placed the paperwork in front of him and leaned on the desk.
“Raining out is it lad?” asked the Major
“No Sir.”
“Are you sure?"
“Yes Sir.”
“Only it seems you have shrunk a bit since leaving the Doctors!” He remarked.

At that point, the CSgt returned with two large mugs of tea and some sandwiches. He placed a cup and a sandwich next to the Major. He took a sip of his tea.
“On here, lad, it says you are five feet eleven and weighing nine and a half stone, I would like to bet your not even five foot six and close to a seven stone weakling”
“Oh” I replied feeling my face getting hot. I went even redder as the Major leaned further across the desk gazing at me intently.
“Hmm, your eyes have gone a funny colour too” he said.
By this time, I was literally squirming in my seat and my face must have been blood red.
“Says here” the Major went on “You have brown eyes, your eyes are blue”
I started to jabber unintelligibly as I tried to get out of the predicament I now found myself in.
“Any of your family in the services?” he asked changing tack.
“My father was in the Royal Engineers,” I stammered “And my brother is still in, been in six or seven years”
“You want to follow in their footsteps is that it?” enquired the Major.
“Yes Sir, I know I can do it” I replied picturing a glimmer of hope in this line of questioning.

Suddenly the Major stood up, picked up his tea and sandwich. Turning to the CSgt, he said, “I’m not in! Moreover, let us not have this chappie in here again eh! Shall we?”
“Right oh!” replied the CSgt and took the Majors place at the desk.
He said nothing for a while just sat and looked at me. I tried hard to look him straight in the eye but found myself weakening by the second. He slammed his hand on the desk suddenly startling me; I almost jumped out of my skin
“Let me make this clear lad, I’ll give you three weeks, do you hear, three weeks, and when it all goes tits up, don’t ever come crawling back here again, understood!”
“Yes CSgt” I said, excitement building up inside me, was I in?
The CSgt pulled a variety of forms from the drawers making a neat pile in front of him. He began to write. Completing the first two forms, he passed them across to me.
“Official Secrets Act, sign there” I signed.
He wrote some more.

“Attestation Papers, signing on for the minimum of six years, sign there”
I signed. He took a little New Testament Bible, wrote my name in and handed it over. He gave me a brand new shilling piece.
“The Queens Shilling” he informed me, “treasure it, it will be a souvenir of your brief sojourn as a serving soldier, and I still got mine“.

Removing a cash tin from the drawer, he took out and filled in a Bus Warrant from Stone Cross to Birmingham Snow Hill and a Train Warrant from Birmingham Snow Hill to Cove, Farnborough, both single. “You have to report to No 1 Training Regiment, Royal Engineers, Cove near Farnborough, Hants by 9 0’ clock next Monday, So you will probably have to travel down on Sunday, understood.”
“Yes CSgt”.
From the cash box, the CSgt removed a one-pound note, a ten-shilling note and some small change.
“You will be on unpaid leave until next Monday” he said “This is your first weeks pay starting Monday, look after it you will need it” he said
“Yes CSgt”
The CSgt gathered up all the papers and stuffed them into an A4 envelope. I picked up my first weeks pay. Standing up he thrust out his hand.
“I wish you luck my lad, you‘re going to need it!” he said “But I’m not holding my breath”
“I’ll be OK CSgt,” I said and taking the envelope I turned and almost ran from the Recruiting Office fearful he would change his mind.

Out in the street I began jumping up and down “Yahoooo!” I screamed, “I’m in”
Several people in the street stopped and stared, who cares, I thought, I ran to Ben and threw my arms around him trying unsuccessfully to lift him up. “I did it, I did it, I’m in” I shouted, laughing uncontrollably at the same time.
“You mean I bloody did it!” shouted Ben.
“Yeah we did it, we did it”

We both began to run down the street towards the Bus Stop laughing and jumping up and down as we ran. I could not resist a look back towards the Recruiting Office as we ran and I saw the Major standing outside the door. I waved the envelope at him and shaking his head he turned and went back inside.

All the way back to Stone Cross on the bus I talked continually about all the places I was going to see, the things I was going to do. Ben hardly said a word but I could see he was pleased for me as he had a half smile on his face the whole time, patiently listening to my incoherent ramblings. I had tried to convince Ben to enlist too. He would not even try. Ben was a bed-wetter, I was not sure if he knew I knew, we never talked about it, but I knew that was the reason he would not try to join up. As we got back to Stone Cross, I swore Ben to secrecy “If my Mom gets wind of this before the weekend”, I said “she’ll move heaven and earth to stop me from going” The Parental Consent form I had handed included a rather vague imitation of my fathers signature on it.

From Stone Cross, Ben and I began the fifteen-minute walk home. He was still strangely silent. “What’s up?” I asked him “Aren’t you happy?”
“Its OK for you” he replied “You will probably make a load of new mates, a few weeks down the line you will have forgotten your old school mate Ben.”
“Don’t be daft” I said, horrified at the thought, “You’ll still be my best mate, and nothing will ever change that. We’ll have a good get together when I come home on leave”.

His fears put a dampener on my erstwhile enthusiasm and we walked the remainder of the way home without a word. The funny thing is Ben had been right, when I thanked him again at his house for the hundredth time since leaving Wolverhampton and he went inside and closed the door, it was the last time I saw Ben from that day to this!

What a week I had! Having walked home with Ben I arrived home determined to keep quiet until Friday or Saturday to try to make sure my Mom did not find out about my enlistment. However no sooner had I walked in the door I bumped into one of my elder brothers, Don.
“What you looking so pleased about?” he asked.
“Nothing, why?” I had replied
“You look like you just won the pools,” he said. My brothers could read me like a book.
I thought I could trust Don with my secret.
“Promise not to say anything?” I told him.
“Slit me throat ‘ope to die,” he said running a finger beneath his chin.
“I joined up today, the Royal Engineers, like Dad and Jamie”
“You’re bloody joking!” exclaimed Don “the army would kill you!”
“Didn’t’t do Dad or Jamie any harm” I retorted
“You won’t last five minutes, besides Mom would never let you go!”
“I’m not telling Mom till Saturday, it will be too late then” Before long my two other brothers, Paul and Kev and my sister Charlotte were in on it and it became a foregone conclusion that Mom would find out before the day was out. I managed to hold out until my Dad got home, as I felt sure he would be my one true ally.

There followed several hours of argument and counter-argument lasting late into the evening with my siblings throwing constant scorn and contempt at the mere thought of my joining the army. My parents argued long and hard. My Dad put forward the argument that if my Mom, brothers and sisters thought I would not last more than a week or two the best thing all round was to let me go and at least get the whole idea out of my system. After all, next year I would be eighteen and they would not be able to stop me anyway. Having put this argument forward several times and no one being able to produce an alternative and convincing reason why I should not go, it became accepted that I would. Don ended all argument by saying “It’ll be a good excuse of a piss-up Sunday Dinner time at any rate”.

My mother spent all her energies on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday trying to convince me of the foolishness of my enlisting. Nevertheless, I was resolute. On Saturday she got out a paper carrier bag in which she placed a spare shirt, a gray looking hand towel in which was rolled a used bar of soap, my Dads old shaving brush and cut throat razor.
“I’ll do you some sandwiches and a bottle of tea on Sunday morning to take with you,” she said. There were no luxury items such as a toothbrush or underwear.

I am not sure any of us had any!

Comments

Our Lad Ricky

Mon, 15 Sep 2008 21:39:32 +0200

This is the story about how I, at the tender age of 18, made several abortive attempts at enlisting into the Royal Engineers. I was successful on the fifth attempt when I pursuaded a school friend to sit my enlistment medical for me!

The book covers the following 19 weeks of basic training and the numerous funny, hilareous and ludicrous situations I found myself in!

Comments