Friday, November 4, 2011
When Keith Floyd came to visit us...
We had pigs trotters while they had fish and chips... check back later for the rest of the story.
McMullan cellar 5 mins...
That's what my BSM Chalky White said to me one day as I was passing his office. My head started to race what had I done wrong? When the BSM says cellar you think dam I done something but what was it, I could not think at all what it could have been.
As I headed down the stairs to the cellar, one of the guys asked me where I was going, I told him what had happened and he said to me "word to the wise, don't get back up" F%@k now I knew I was in trouble.
Standing there wrecking my brains for what I did, when he came in, looking straight at me, I think I froze on the spot. He stopped in front of me and said McMullan you failed to do this on this day and time (for the life of me I still cannot remember what I had done), do you want my punishment or the old man's.
Well the old man's meant it would go on my record so I opted for his... CRACK... and down I went like a ton of bricks, although back then I was just a skinny little runt. Then I remembered what scouse had said, so I did not get back up. The BSM offer me his hand and pulled me up to my feet, he then said be outside the NAFFI tonight at eight smartly dressed.
I was stood outside the NAFFI to attention in my suit and shinny shoes as he came down the path, he inspected me and then looked me in the eye and said, "what are you drinking" he then proceeded to get me drunk I was not expected to buy him a drink.
So what is the point of all this, well back then, his punishment meant I took it, I learn from it, it was not recorded on my documents and it was forgotten about, chalk it up to experience you might say. I guess these days his punishment would not be acceptable.
I learnt a lot from him, he taught me well, and he showed me respect, as I did him.
As I headed down the stairs to the cellar, one of the guys asked me where I was going, I told him what had happened and he said to me "word to the wise, don't get back up" F%@k now I knew I was in trouble.
Standing there wrecking my brains for what I did, when he came in, looking straight at me, I think I froze on the spot. He stopped in front of me and said McMullan you failed to do this on this day and time (for the life of me I still cannot remember what I had done), do you want my punishment or the old man's.
Well the old man's meant it would go on my record so I opted for his... CRACK... and down I went like a ton of bricks, although back then I was just a skinny little runt. Then I remembered what scouse had said, so I did not get back up. The BSM offer me his hand and pulled me up to my feet, he then said be outside the NAFFI tonight at eight smartly dressed.
I was stood outside the NAFFI to attention in my suit and shinny shoes as he came down the path, he inspected me and then looked me in the eye and said, "what are you drinking" he then proceeded to get me drunk I was not expected to buy him a drink.
So what is the point of all this, well back then, his punishment meant I took it, I learn from it, it was not recorded on my documents and it was forgotten about, chalk it up to experience you might say. I guess these days his punishment would not be acceptable.
I learnt a lot from him, he taught me well, and he showed me respect, as I did him.
Why don’t you tell the enemy where we are?
While down near Frankfurt exercising with the Americans in their sector of Germany my friend Ian (Snake) Duff were sent to do L.O. (Liaison Officer) with an American unit. One night we did a night deployment which took place from night fall until about three in the morning.
When we do night occupations we drive on convey light which is light following a cigarette butt through the woods up and down hills this can be very demanding, but no only that once in position we were always expected to be as quite as possible so that the sound of our deployment did not travel to unfriendly ears. So doors were closed very quietly, the vehicle would be camouflaged very quietly as well, no lights would be used so you had to know exactly where every bit of your kit was, 21’ radio masts would be erected in the freezing cold.
To our complete dismay as we deployed with the Americans we started to do all the things we were trained to do and then wham the woods we were in light up like Blackpool illuminations. The Americans had turned on spot lights, head lights, torches and anything else they could light up and as we stood there mouths wide open we spotted a queue of men lining up as a coke machine was off loaded from a truck, they then preceded to get a coke before cracking on with the job at hand.
Madness… good job there was no live enemy out playing that night.
I remember a very long time ago aged 19 ...
I was on duty in the guardroom when a sergeant came into the guardroom and he put himself in jail, sometime later the RSM (Regimental Sargent Major) came in and released him back to his battery.
I was going on my break so I decided to follow the sergeant and ask him why he put himself in jail. He responded by saying “when my men screw up he punishes them, but when he screws up who punishes him, so he jailed himself to show his men that he is not above the rules either.
I found this an interesting approach and in a way he had earned my respect even though I did not really know him that well. Many years later as I began to move up the ranks I was reminded by this when a Royal Signals corporal told me a similar story about himself. This inspired me and from then on I would at times (when I screwed up) stand one of my men down from doing the drag stag (between the hours of midnight and 05:00hrs in the morning) and put myself on guard duty as a sergeant even as a staff sergeant .
My men would always want to know what I had done wrong, but I would just say you don’t need to know just enjoy your down time.
I wanted the height not the bloody length you stupid boy…
As a young soldier at the age of 21 I guess, I witnessed an event which caused me some embarrassment due to the fact that the BSM (Battery Sargent Major) was a fellow Irishman.
Allow me to explain. One morning after battery parade the BSM tasked one of the younger men to go with him as he had a job for him. The young lad followed the BSM to just outside the battery office to where the battery flag pole was located and as I was working nearby on my AFV432 (Armoured Fighting Vehicle) I heard say to the young soldier, “right then son I want you to measure the flag pole for me, I will be back in a short while”. Scratching his head the young lad was thinking how he could complete this task, when suddenly almost like a light bulb switching on, the lad man handled the pole out of the ground, laid it on the floor and preceded to measure it with the tape measure the BSM had given him earlier.
At which point the BSM returned and I could not believe my ears when I heard the BSM asking the lad what he was doing, the boy explained that he was measuring the flag pole as requested, the BSM shouted at him saying.
“I wanted the height not the bloody length you stupid boy.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
The Lighting Tree...
There is never enough power when you need a shave...
One day while out on exercise in Germany oh I think it must have been 1976, we were located in a woodland when one of the Bombardiers (Corporal) shouted "great a lighting tree I can have a shave now".
Rushing into the command post and returned shortly afterwards with his electric/battery razor, the tree in question was an oak tree that had been struck by lightning, the Bombardier then stuck the plug from the razor into the tree and preceded to have a shave to the amazement of one of the young soldiers who had been in the army all of five minutes and was now on his first exercise.
The bombardier seeing his surprise asked him if he would like to have a go, to which he said yes. The Bombardier handed him the razor and without the young man knowing it he placed the lead into the socket of the razor which effectively cancelled out the batteries, which was why he was able to have a shave in the first place.
So when the young soldier stuck the plug from the razor into the tree all he got was a clicking sound, to which the Bombardier said. "Sorry mate it seems I have used all the electricity from the tree, never mind the next lighting tree we find you can have another go."
The young lad told all his mates about this with some excitement until eventually he had to be told the truth...
He took it well and he was able to laugh at himself.
One day while out on exercise in Germany oh I think it must have been 1976, we were located in a woodland when one of the Bombardiers (Corporal) shouted "great a lighting tree I can have a shave now".
Rushing into the command post and returned shortly afterwards with his electric/battery razor, the tree in question was an oak tree that had been struck by lightning, the Bombardier then stuck the plug from the razor into the tree and preceded to have a shave to the amazement of one of the young soldiers who had been in the army all of five minutes and was now on his first exercise.
The bombardier seeing his surprise asked him if he would like to have a go, to which he said yes. The Bombardier handed him the razor and without the young man knowing it he placed the lead into the socket of the razor which effectively cancelled out the batteries, which was why he was able to have a shave in the first place.
So when the young soldier stuck the plug from the razor into the tree all he got was a clicking sound, to which the Bombardier said. "Sorry mate it seems I have used all the electricity from the tree, never mind the next lighting tree we find you can have another go."
The young lad told all his mates about this with some excitement until eventually he had to be told the truth...
He took it well and he was able to laugh at himself.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Jail him...
I don't care if his boots don't fit into his large pack.... That's what happened to me when as a young soldier on parade one day having our regular kit check for when we have to deploy into the field. Back then we were given step by step instructions on where our kit had to be packed into our large packs (which were not so large after all).
Our large packs were all the same size however, I was expected to get my size 12 boots along with my much larger clothing into the same size pack as my buddy who had size 9 boots and of course much smaller clothing.
When the Sergeant Major DEMANDED to know why my boots were not packed into my bag I tried to explain to him about the size difference. His response was to tell me to get my boots into my pack as per the kit list and again I tried to explain to him only to be cut short with the words "Don't argue with me, Sergeant march this man down to the jail" and I was swiftly marched off to jail.
Needless to say I did not spend the rest of my army career in jail and as time moved on our large pack became Bergen’s and you guessed it, I could get my boots into them just and I was still limited to the kit I could take with me. As for the Sergeant Major well I don’t think he ever got a life and he certainly did not feel the need to say sorry either.
Our large packs were all the same size however, I was expected to get my size 12 boots along with my much larger clothing into the same size pack as my buddy who had size 9 boots and of course much smaller clothing.
When the Sergeant Major DEMANDED to know why my boots were not packed into my bag I tried to explain to him about the size difference. His response was to tell me to get my boots into my pack as per the kit list and again I tried to explain to him only to be cut short with the words "Don't argue with me, Sergeant march this man down to the jail" and I was swiftly marched off to jail.
Needless to say I did not spend the rest of my army career in jail and as time moved on our large pack became Bergen’s and you guessed it, I could get my boots into them just and I was still limited to the kit I could take with me. As for the Sergeant Major well I don’t think he ever got a life and he certainly did not feel the need to say sorry either.
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