‘Quis Separabit’: A Mick's View

By Irish Guards

Readers who never served in the Irish Guards and have little idea what went on behind barrack walls, may find some of the terms used and the events and the incidents they describe a little strange. But they will surely recognise the strand that runs through all the contributions with our Motto ‘QUIS SEPARABIT’ (Who shall separate us). The meaning of those words are something valuable. Let us share with you the experiences we had that are part of who we are now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jan 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728382388

Book preview

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IRISH GUARDS

‘QUIS SEPARABIT’

A Mick’s View

AuthorHouse™ UK

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Bloomington, IN 47403 USA

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2019 Irish Guards. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,

or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/27/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-8237-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-8238-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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CONTENTS

Foreword by Lord Gough

Preface by Joseph Quinn

Chapter 1 Malcolm Woolard

Chapter 2 Mel Thompson MBE RVM

Chapter 3 Bill Davis MBE RVM

Chapter 4 Kevin Treacy

Chapter 5 Leo Tighe BEM

Chapter 6 Barry Lynas

Chapter 7 John McKinty

Chapter 8 Jimmy Kearns

Chapter 9 Jimmy Fitzsimons

Chapter 10 Phillip McDonnell (Jack)

Chapter 11 Tom Kiely

Chapter 12 Vince McEllin

Chapter 13 Tony Feeney

Chapter 14 Ron Kirkland

Chapter 15 Alan Henshall

Chapter 16 Brendan McCann

Chapter 17 Ken Owen

Chapter 18 Ged Byrne

Chapter 19 Brian Eager

Chapter 20 Martin Whelan

Chapter 21 Tommy Roach

Chapter 22 Dave McCullough

Chapter 23 Edward (Eamonn) Whelan

Chapter 24 Ken (Hovis) Brown

Chapter 25 Mark Gordon-Christopher

Chapter 26 Eamonn Murray

Chapter 27 Martin McConnell MBE

FOREWORD

Truth and memory do not always coincide but stories from Irish Guardsmen of all ranks will seldom be dull. In the next pages I am sure this will be true and I am satisfied that I have backed an interesting project which will prove worthwhile and give much pleasure and little grief to readers inside and outside the Regiment

At a Belfast dinner in the 60s which was attended by my godfather the Colonel of the Regiment and his eldest brother the Earl of Caledon I much enjoyed the evening and heard a story told about my father who commanded the Battalion from 1930 to 1934.

Told by my godfather the story concerned Pirbright when the Battalion was training under canvas. The Commanding Officer had a sentry outside his tent in those days. My father woke up in the night to find the moon shining in. He told the sentry to put the light out whereupon the sentry said It is the Moon my lord.. My father reacted by saying "Well put the bloody thing out. The sentry went off to consult the Sergeant of the Guard. They came back together with a blanket which solved the problem although I hope it was not a hot stuffy night.

Good reading.

LORD GOUGH BARWELL

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Joseph Quinn

Author Coordinator

PREFACE

I attended many an Irish Guards function over the years, it was always mentioned that somebody should write a book of the many hilarious banter & interesting stories told. Little did I think I would become the one to organise and co-ordinate the Book myself.

I spent 25 years in the Irish Guards, from 1961 to 1986 from J/Gdsm to WO1 RSM( QUOTC). There is a saying in the Irish Guards ONCE A MICK ALWAYS A MICK. I can vouch for that, although I left the Regiment in 1986 I still feel part of the Regimental family today. After my time in the Micks I went on to take a Commission and was finally demobbed in 2006 in the rank of Major.

It was at the Funeral of John Corcoran (RIP) that the seed for a Book was sowed. At John’s wake I sat with Tommy Corcoran (his Uncle), Capt Alfie Cunningham, Leo McGuire (RIP) & others the banter and bar-spinning as we know it was mighty. While we listened to many Mick stories it was suggested (as it had been many times in the past) someone should write a book.

The following day I wrote to some 50 Serving and ex Micks told them of my plan, 37 bought into the plan and I’m proud to say that 27 became the finished product. I wish to thank the 27 Authors for their excellent stories they are ‘brilliant’.

Readers, who never served in the Irish Guards and have little idea what went on behind barrack walls, may find some of the terms used, the events and the incidents they describe a little strange. But they will surely recognise the strand that runs through all the contributions with our Motto Quis Separabit (who shall separate us). The meaning of those words are something precious. Many Micks over the years would sign off letters, emails, texts etc with QS.

I would like to thank my Son-in-law Scott Saunders for assisting with proofreading my Grandchildren Courtney, Charlotte and Cameron for helping me to pull it all together using 21st Century technology and a particular mention must go to Lord Gough for sponsoring the project.

Joseph Quinn

Author Coordinator

Irish Guards 1961

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Joe Quinn coordinating some 1000 troops from 8 different countries at the Danish Military Tattoo in Copenhagen 1983.

CHAPTER 1

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MALCOLM WOOLARD

Airborne Solider

Joined July 1955

Arriving at the Guards Depot Caterham in July 1955, I approached the tall sergeant standing there, and informed him I had come to join the Irish Guards. He screamed something at the guardroom, and a soldier appeared slipping and sliding on the red tiles. With arms flailing, he took off down the long drive.

Follow that man, said the sergeant.

I struggled to keep up carrying my suitcase in the July heat.

He was standing outside a large barrack block. Report in there, he said, then left.

Name and regiment, demanded the tubby Coldstream Guards sergeant sitting behind a desk. He ticked my name off a list in front of him. Grab yourself a bed. The others will explain the routine.

This is the receiving room, said one offering his hand. I’m Irish Guards as well. Name’s Roy Phillips. Everyone starts here until there is enough men from their own regiments to form a squad. I spent over three weeks there polishing and bumping floors, as well as helping out in the church army canteen—that was one of the best fatigue jobs, with free cakes sometimes.

By now there were nineteen Irish Guards in the room. Next morning a tall sergeant appeared.

My name’s Sergeant Kelly, he said. All Irish Guards grab your kit and fall in outside.

We were then marched to one of the wooden huts next to the sports field. After grabbing a bed each, we marched to the stores to collect uniforms and equipment. When we returned to the hut, a dark tanned guardsman was there.

This is Guardsman Fletcher. You will address him as a trained soldier, and he will show you how to clean and look after your kit, said Lt Sgt Kelly.

I made friends with a few of the other men: Gregory and Clark from Belfast, O’Hara from Liverpool, and Phillips, of course, from London—he was National Service, as were more than half the squad.

Morris O’Brian was the CSM, and Major Hendry the company commander at this time. After eight weeks training we could get a weekend pass, but an incident accrued when on 2 Saturday morning we discovered someone during had crapped in the middle of the washroom floor. Sgt O’Connor gave us two hours for the culprit to own up, no one did so he confined them whole squad to barracks for the whole weekend. I decided this was unfair so after lunch, I made the decision to go off for the weekend, anyone with me I asked, I will said Roy, me to said Powel. A few of the others tried to talk us out of it, but I insisted we would be back by Monday morning. We left through the back gate, which was never guarded, and caught a bus outside the Fox Public house to Purley station then a train to London. After wondering around the city Saturday afternoon and most of Sunday, we gave ourselves up at Wimbledon police station. We were placed in the cells by the desk sergeant and given a cup of tea. I was awakened early next morning, and informed a CSM O’Brian wanted a word. Guardsman Woolard speaking Sir. It’s ok lad I know all about what happened just get yourselves back, I’ll have a hot meal waiting for you, the police will issue you all with a travel warrant. Later that morning three unshaven dishevelled figures approached the scots Guard Sergeant we are to report to SSM O’Brian I said. Been expecting you three, now get into that Guardroom now. So another night was spent in the cells, this time the doors were locked.

You got off light said trained soldier Fletcher. The charge was AWOL 23 hours 35 minutes, we each received 3 days confined to barracks, and fined 1 days’ pay.

The twelve weeks went quickly, consisting of drill and more drill, with some PT, and a short introduction to the Lee-Enfield 303 Rifle. After the intensive twelve weeks training we were ready for a final inspection, this was taken by the Adjutant of the Guards depot.

Both Jimmy O’Hara and I were asked to go to Shorncliffe to train as PT instructors, O’Hara accepted the offer, but I decided being a romantic idiot to go and join the Battalion in Egypt. After some embarkation leave, from which Powel and another never reported back from the west of Ireland. We travelled by truck to Goodge Street station a deep underground wartime shelter now used as a transit station. We were allowed out in the evening, if one was prepared to climb the long spiral stairs to daylight. After spending two or three day is underground, we were taken to RAF Blackbushe were we boarded a Valetta aircraft to fly to Egypt.

After stopping in Malta to refuel we eventually arrived at a RAF base not far the town of Ismaillia, from there we were transported the short journey to Moascar Garrison just west of the town. The camp was constructed of tents with just the main cookhouse, Officers, Sergeants mess, and Company offices constructed of stone. Clark, Gregory, Phillips, and I were posted to two Company lines. There was another camp not far away manned by Welsh Guards. There were only two other guys in the Tent, can’t remember their names, they informed us the rest of the Company were up in Aqaba for three months. I assumed then that Aqaba was somewhere in Egypt.

After spend every day for a week or so on the ranges, a very short Corporal with a very large Moustache appeared in the tent one evening, his name Corporal Barlow. Right you lot starting packing your kit you are flying up to Aqaba to-morrow morning, early breakfast 05-00 hrs", then left. Aqaba (in Arabic Al-Batra) was another tented camp, but with much smaller Bell tents, instead of the large Marquee we had left. Aqaba a town next To Wadi Rum at the top end of The Gulf of Aqaba, and only a few hundred yards from the Israeli border.

There was a small NAAFI club with a thatched roof on the beach, and everyone was warned to keep well away from the border. A story went around the Company that an L/Sgt McCombe had got pissed one night walked the wrong way along the beach, and was arrested by the Israelis. It turned into a small diplomatic incident, he was returned three days later.

I enjoy my two months stay in Aqaba, just a bit of training with the 2nd Dragoon Guards (Queens Bays), learning to work with Tanks was a new experience. One of my most memorable trips was a visit to The Holy city of Jerusalem arranged by the company.

The journey took about six hours in the back of a 3 tonner, but it was worth every bone shaking mile. We spent three or four days there, staying VMCA Hostel located outside the walls of the old city. Each day we were taken inside by a Guide. I could not believe the things and places we were shown. The Wailing Wall, the Tower David, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre where Jesus tomb lay. We walked the Via Dolorosa and outside the city walls to the Garden of Gethsemane, where the crucifixion of Jesus took place. Things I had only heard of being read to me from the Bible, my early days at Sunday school. A few weeks later I put my name down for a trip to a place Petra, I had never heard of it, but what the hell it was something to do.

After an early breakfast, and collecting the usual haversack lunch, consisting of two sandwiches, one of cheese, and the other old faithful Corn beef. We left in two land rovers a young 2nd Lieutenant in charge, about half up Wadi Rum one of the vehicles started to overheat. The late George Richie one of the drivers was slowly removing the radiator cap, when some steam hit him in the side of his face. Nothing to serious, we wrapped a wet towel around his head, and someone else took the driving. We eventually arrived at an Arab Legion Fort, where they welcome us some cold orange drinks. They then took us to some horses; you should have seen some of the faces on some. I was fine I had ridden a couple of times, the officer of course, and couple of the guys from Ireland. It took the best part of half an hour to sort out some who couldn’t even mount the horse. We set off in two groups each horse obediently following the one in front, and led by a Arab guide, I think it was about a seven or eight miles to the start of a deep gorge known as Sig (meaning the shaft), it’s no more than nine feet wide, and winds its way approximately three quarters of a mile to open out to revile a fantastic sight. There before carved into the high stone cliff was Al Khazneh, now known as the Treasury. There we left the horses and walked through the valley marvelling at all the carved structures. This was a magic place, which I will never forget, my thanks to the Irish Guards for making it all possible. After eating our sandwiches we rode the horses back to the fort, and gratefully accepted another cold drink. George Richie feeling a lot better drove us back to Aqaba.

At about this time the British troops were departing the Canal Zone, many had already left for Cyprus and the UK. No 2 company were ordered to travel back by sea aboard an LST. Most of the Queens Bays Tanks were also aboard. It turned out to be a great three-day voyage; most of the crew were Chinese with British RASC officers. I can still remember the taste of the freshly baked bread daily. We travelled down the gulf of Aquba around Ras Mohammed point, then up Gulf of Suez, and into the Suez Canal, most of the time was spent sunbathing or doing PT on deck. The ship had to drop anchor for a few hours in the Great Bitter Lake to allow the down traffic to pass. Eventually we travelled on up through Lake Timsah to Port Said.

That first night back in camp, I said to Phillips fancy a trip to town, maybe buy some gifts and have a beer. Good idea said Clark I’ll come with you. At about 22-30 we decided to grab a taxi back to camp, just take us to the army camp said Clark a little pissed. That when the trouble started, the Taxi driver had dropped us at the Welsh Guards camp, but unknown to us they had gone back to the UK.

Stana, shouted a voice the darkness as we approached the guardroom. Before us stood a very menacing Egyptian soldier pointing a rifle with a very sharp looking Bayonet on the end of it, we tried to reason with him, but he could not speak of word English, plus the fact he looked very nervous with his figure on the trigger. Better just stand still said Roy raising hands, Clark and I did the same as the guy came closer with the bayonet. The sentry shouted something, and two more appeared, one who spoke a little ordered us to keep our hands up. Were there marched into the guardroom, and made to sit on the floor until an Egyptian, after about 10 mins an Egyptian Officer appeared. After we explained our mistake, he ordered some chairs, and told us to sit while he made arrangements. Half an hour later our military police arrived, we quickly explained our mistake, and dropped us our own camp. "That’s it said Phillips the next time I leave this bloody camp will be to get on a boat for the UK, I think we all agreed with him.

A few weeks later around the 7th March the Battalion boarded the Troop ship HMT Lancashire, an old ship on her way back to be scrapped. I was part of the canteen carrying party, our job was dumping all surplus ships stores, including food overboard. I asked the canteen manager why, He said it was something to do with HM Customs and the fact the ship going to the knacker’s yard.

At about 01-33 in the morning the alarm sounded, everyone was ordered to their boat stations I managed to pull a pair of trousers and army plimsolls, before following everyone to our allotted stations. We all noticed standing in the pouring rain that the ship was leaning way over to the side. Jesus we are going to sink, said Jim Clark standing next to me. I cannot remember how long we stood there shivering in the rain; some men were still in their underwear. Eventually we got the order to stand down, as the ship righted its self. A sailor told me later that some large cargo had broken free, and had caused her list 30 degrees to Starboard. Three days later, the Battalion celebrated St Patricks on board, then a couple of days after that we arrived at Liverpool docks. The Regimental band was playing alongside and crowds of people were cheering as the ship tied up.

From there we boarded a troop train, at Crew station the WVS came along handing out sandwiches. I still don’t how, but the Train went straight through London to Ashford in Kent. From there we boarded trucks to Lydd camp. Nothing much to say except Prepare for London duties, Eddy Fitzpatrick and I used to run to Camber and back. One day on the notice board appeared a note, volunteers required for the Guards Parachute Company. Fancy Applying for that said my mate Phillips, not sure, if I have the nerve to jump out of a plane I remarked. In the end we both applied, along with two others Murphy from Support Company. And big Jim O’Connor from No 1 Company. Arriving at Aldershot we started three weeks of intensive training, mostly running over the tank range, and assault course. I have to say the spit and polish was much worse than the Battalion. About 70% passed including the all the Micks, then off to RAF Abington for jump training. First two jumps were from Balloon. Five men up four men jumping said Flt Sgt Phipps into his radio. There was a notable silence, then the Balloon reached 800ft, and the Instructor dropped the safety bar, right then who’s first, no one moved, suddenly Murphy stepped forward saluted and said, permission to fall out sir. Stand in the door, go he shouted in Murphy’s ear, and spud disappeared over the edge with a loud yell. Jim O’Connor went next, I was determined not to be last so I went next. I felt a horrible falling sensation, followed by a very relieved feeling when the chute opened, I just drifted gently, until a voice on a loud speaker shouted Woolard get your feet and knees together, I landed with a bump and rolled over safe and well. After the three-week course finished we were presented with our Parachute Wings, and transported by truck to Pirbright home of the Para Company. Murphy Phillips and O’Connor, and joined some Irish guards already there as a Sgt Stewart, Guardsman Terrill, and a couple of others whose names I have forgotten. The Company Commander Major PNR Stewart-Richardson CG, and CSM Davis21 WG, The late Sgt George Ervine was in the orderly room. The main roll of the company as pathfinders was to mark the drop zones for the main Brigade, for this reason most training jumps were by done by night. Originally I was part of a three-man Vickers Machine section, before moving on to Signals section the following year. One of my jobs in Pine trees camp in Cyprus was to operate a 100-line switch board. On duty Christmas Eve 1957, I was receiving a very large number of calls from people pledging money for Wireless for the blind run by British Forces broadcasting service. I was just about keeping ahead of the game, when a couple my mates came in to wish me a merry xmas. You should not be in here I said, relax we just want to have drink with you said Jackson a CG. I was getting annoyed now the exchange was buzzing, come on lads clear off before the duty Officer catches you. OK said Mick Coyle IG here have a drink on us and left the bottle Keo Brandy on the table beside me.

I think it was just about 01-00hrs when L/Sgt Pertwick CG burst in, what the hell is going on he yelled, what’s the problem Sarg I said holding the almost empty bottle in my hand. Look at the bloody board it’s like a bowl of spaghetti, I looked but couldn’t make sense of it. Needless to say I was relieved and put in the Guardroom, Next morning I received a lecture on the evils of Keo Brandy from the Company Commander. Most of the time was spent on operations in the Troodos Mountains searching for EOKA terrorists, with some success, before being called back to Nicosia to prepare for Suez. Murphy landed on a Machine post and collected a few bullets in the abdomen, he was assumed dead until Spud staggered to his feet for a piss, then a French Doctor removed him by Helicopter to the French Hospital ship off shore. The punch line to this was Spud did not qualify for a GSM, because had not spent 24 hrs ashore. He did eventually get it years later through the Navy who only have to be inside territorial waters. Other Incident I remember patrolling through streets clearing snipers, when we got held up, by a battle in front between Marines on one side of the road, and the Egyptian army in a factory on the other. A small convoy of trucks came along, and Sgt Steward IG ordered us to climb aboard two to each truck. I climbed onto the 2nd with Jock Gorman a Horse Guard, it was very dark the odd bullet ripped through canopy, Inside sat a little guy wearing glasses and carrying a Stun gun. Jock said mind if we fill our water bottles. It’s not water it’s petrol he calmly replied. To this day, I still don’t know which of us was first over the back and running down the street, my red beret fell off inside the truck, next morning I found a bullet hole through my right bottle. After spending 4 days in a slip trench near El Quantara eating by Mosquito we got relieved by the West Kents, moved back to Port Said. We were told we were going home, but the ship us dropped the Company at Limassol, and it was back up the mountains again. We had a couple of contacts with EOKA, once when they ambushed our small convoy moving up from Limassol, we took some 2 ins Mortar and machine gun fire, but no one was hurt, and the firing stopped once we deployed up the mountain after them. Three weeks later, we returned to the UK aboard the troopship Empire Ken. Life at Pirbright was mostly uneventful some training exercises up in Otterburn camp, and Salisbury plain. One exercise I remember well, we dropped by parachute onto Dartmoor, blue up a pretend bridge, marched to the coast and got picked up by Submarine.

1958 the Company flew out to Cyprus again in the new RAF Comet. The usual operations up in the mountains, only this time we were called back to Nicosia to fly to Jorden to help put down a Military coup against King Hussein. We arrived in the capital Aman set up camp on the edge of the airfield. We were each issued with two man tents which give each a little more space. One of our tasks was to defend the airfield, the position was at the far corner of the field, and to get there our truck had to travel along the runway. After getting permission from the control tower we set of along the runway, in the back were four of us plus some explosive and coils of barbed wire. I remarked to Jacko that plane looks like it’s catching up with us fast, it bloody is said Jackson shouting to attract the driver started to move over. Duck I yelled as the plane hit us. Luckily, the propeller went along side, but the wing sliced along top of the seats removing the canopy and turning the cab upside down, we jumped over the side and ran. Our driver spent a few days in hospital suffering from shock, a I heard later that the pilot was court marshalled, apparently he thought it would fun to take over our heads, but miss judged it. As the Israelis only allowed one plane, a week it was full of sick and minor wounded. We spent six months there before returning to our home in the old black huts at Pirbright, which many will remember. Training continued including lots of Jumps. One day Mick Coyle, and myself were ordered to report to the Company Commander Major J O N Retalleck WG. He informed us we had been in the company for three years; it was time we went back to the Battalion for promotion. We arrived at Victoria Barracks Windsor in July in time to join a three-day-old Drill course being taken by D/Sgt O’Sullivan. One parade he produced the then new SLR Rifle, Coyle I believe you used this new rifle in the Para Company, yes sir answered Mick. Then come out here and give us a demonstration, can’t sir we were only taught to strip, clean, and fire it, the Drill Sergeant almost blew a fuse, here he said almost throwing the rifle at Coyle take this back to the armoury, after that we got chassed up and down the square. Everyone passed I was posted to the HQ company Signals platoon. Commanded by Captain Blewitt, Sergeant Barlow, L/Sgt Latham, and l/Sgt Billy Craig. The only other Corporals I remember Cpl Billy M’c Cullock, and Rudd, Rudd and I played golf every Wednesday at Datchet golf course. We freakily went a local Coffee Bar over the river in Eaton. I met a girl from N Ireland and we started dating. Six months later I was promoted to L/Sgt, and sent on a Signals Instructors course at Hythe in Kent. Before I left I was asked to pose for photo, this was taken in Windsor Great Park. The photo was me kneeling and pretending to operating C41 set, the photo went into the Irish book along with many others from the Battalion. It was later enlarged, and finished in the window of the Belfast recruitment office, Sgt Kenny gave it to my mother when he retired. I left Windsor and travelled to Hythe to commence a hard twelve weeks Signal training also which included Morse code. While I was there the Battalion moved from Windsor to the Guards Depot at Caterham. I reported in as usual found a spare bunk in the Signals Platoon. I was Busy unpacking when Ambrose Latham knocked on the door, Hi you Going the dance in the gym, I had completely forgot it was St Patrick’ Day, not sure I feel a bit tired, been traveling all day perhaps after I’ve unpack and have a shower. After the shower I went over to the Sergeants Mess for a drink, there was only one other person in there sitting on his usual bar stool was big Jim Driscol. I had a beer with him then went to the dance after all, Ambrose and Billy Craig were sitting with their wives, so I joined them. Half way through the evening I met a girl named Valerie who I fell in love with, and later became my wife. So once again we got into Public duties. A small party of us went on a ski trip to Aviemore in the Cairngorms. Sgt Dalton was in charge and had a great time until we got called to Prepare for Winston Churchill’s Funeral. That was a pretty big do, I felt sorry for the men carrying the huge coffin. Shortly after the Battalion moved to Dusseldorf, I ended being in charge of Signals for the Recce Platoon, under the Command Lieutenant David Corbett, later to become General Corbett. Tommy Corcoran was the Platoon Sergeant along with L/Sgt’s, Ritchie, Moore. And Powel. On one of the big exercises, the Recce Platoon crossed the Veiser River, the Canadians played the enemy, and the Yanks where on our side. We lay up during the day and moved only at night. We were just a meal when in burst a load of bedraggled soldiers firing in all directions. Ritchie standing in the middle of the barn with his mug of tea calmly said you guys Canadian or American, we’re American answered a young Lieutenant. Well we are British and supposed to be on the same side; we spotted you a couple of miles away. Gee I’m sorry guys have got any food to spare, we lost most of ours and the radio crossing the river. Turned out they were also a recce platoon, and hadn’t eaten for two days, we gave what we could spare and they left. On our way from another exercise, we in an Austin Champ driving in a light flurry of snow, the driver was George Ritchie with me beside him, and L /Sgt Powel in the back. We started to slide on some ice, after completing a couple of 360’s we headed for the ditch at the side, when we hit I was catapulted over the windscreen and landed in a pile of bushes. A bit shook up I climbed out in time to see George crawling from under the over turned Vehicle, but no sign of Powel. A few minutes later Powel appeared limping down the road, he had jumped out at the first spin, said he. Between the three of us and some stout branches, we managed to right the vehicle and continue our journey back to Dusseldorf. Six months later myself and L/Sgt Browne were promoted to full Sergeants, I myself was posted to the Assault Pioneer Platoon under the command of WO1 Martin Aldridge. It was hard work I mucked in with the men, and seamed to spend my time swinging a pick and shovel digging Command posts. The other NCO’s were L/Sgt’s Billy McCulloch, Noel Cullen, and Bartlett. I was sent to the Engineers to do a four-week course on Fielding engineering, Mine warfare, Bridging, Demolitions, and River crossing by raft. Once working all through the night, at dawn the Platoon had got the whole Battalion including small Champs and trailers across a river using a raft built on three aluminium assault boats. We received a very well done by the Commanding Officer, in appreciation gave the Platoon 5 days R and R down in the Mossell valley. We arrived at a German campsite in two APC’s, not allowed said the gate man to heavy. We persuaded him they were no more than a car and caravan, and we pay for Five days. He relented, but sent us to the end of the site well away from the fancy tents and caravans. Most of time we spent on a bit of Rock climbing swimming in the river, of course down to the local pub in the evening, I one or two always offered to stay and look after the kit. During one night, I heard a truck pull up a long side our vehicles, obvious sent to Coventry like ourselves. Next morning we awoke to the smell of cooking. Four middle-aged men were busy frying some eggs. We introduced ourselves, they offered us some eggs from a large create, must have been ten or twelve dozen, as we had loads of bread and nothing but compo, we suggested egg sandwiches, that went down a treat. Turned out they were farmer come down for some fishing. The following evening one came over and said they were leaving that night, and would like the remaining half box of eggs, which we graciously accepted.

Back in Hubbelrath Barracks, Sergeants Latham, Craig and myself used to drink in a bar a few miles up the road in Mettmann. A guy named Wolfgang and his wife Rosa ran a small privet bar In a back room, one were you knocked first before being let in, the three of us became good friends with Wolfgang.

One evening a girl sitting on her own was giving me the eye, so I asked her for a dance, because of the lack of space, it was more of a smooch between tables to the back ground music. After the dance I returned to the others at the bar, be careful said Wolfgang her husband and his mates are outside in the main bar. I had had a few by now, so throwing caution to the wind I continued dancing until closing time. She asked me to take her home, which was not very far. As we got up to leave Wolfgang said not that way, and pulled back some large curtains to reveal a fire door, as we passed through Wolfgang shoved something into my hand, I looked down to see a small Walther PPK stuffing into my pocket we left. We had travelled but a hundred and Fifty yards or so when I heard a loud shout, looking round I saw three or four men one I assumed was her husband. Run I shouted and we ran like hell, turning left into one street then right into another then left again, a large wooden gate appeared on the right I push against it half expecting it to be locked luckily for us it wasn’t, quick inside I said. It was a timber yard I quickly grabbed some planks and braced the gate. Only just in time before we heard the footsteps running past, My Hart was in my mouth when one stopped to check the gate before moving on. I give it five minutes before venturing out. I said to girl you had better go home, but she still wanted to go with me. I had to insist so a quick kiss and I was gone, grabbing the first Taxi I saw, by now I had comply sobered up. In the back of the Taxi, I pulled out Walther to inspect it, and discovered it was a replica gas gun. When I arrived back both Ambrose and Billy where having a brew in one of their bunks, I showed them the gun even they thought it was real at first glance. I told them what happened, Christ you were lucky, said Ambrose Latham.

The first winter we arrived in Germany our company were sent to the American Special Forces camp in Lenngries Bavaria to learn to ski. We all eat in the same mess hall, in the queue one morning a big coloured cook asked the Irish guardsman in front of me. How would like your eggs Bud. I don’t mind said the guy in front holding out his tin food tray, so the cook cracked two raw eggs onto his tray, you should have seen the guy’s face he just stood stirring at the two raw eggs. Then the cook grabbed the tray and dumped the eggs, just a bit of fun you said anyway and that’s the easiest for me, what would like fried, boiled, scrambled, or may be an omelette, fried please replied the Mick.

I joined Battalion Ski team the following month, Captain Daintry captained the team for that year, followed by LT O’Dwyre who took over the following years. Team members consisted of L/Sgt Rodgers, Cpl McClennan, Gds Anderson, Turner, and Me. Wishart, plus two other whose names I forget.

During a training exercise, the Assault Pioneer Platoon had to dig a Battalion command post. We set up the campsite two hundred away for safety in case we had to use explosive. Nearing lunchtime, everyone moved back to the campsite, leaving an Engineer Sgt, and myself still in the hole. We had some Plastic explosive left, but only thirty seconds of fuse left, what do you think I asked, yes let’s do it. We lit the fuse and started running, WO1 Martin Aldridge happened to be walking towards us with a mug of tea in his. You know you are supposed walk from a charge he shouted, short fuse I shouted back, Martin turned and ran dumping his tea and shouting how short, very I shouted as the ground erupted. I got right telling off, but he did see the funny side after he had cooled down. Shortly afterwards the Battalion returned to Chelsea Barracks and Public Duties. One day returning from the Tower of London Guard, the lift had broken, I had to climb fourteen floors carrying, Bearskin, rifle, and suitcase. I have had enough of this I said to Valerie my wife. A few months later, a notice appeared on the board volunteers required to apply to for G squadron 22 SAS. My time served with the Micks had some ups and some downs, But I would not have changed any of it, and probably do it all over again. Quis Separabit.

CHAPTER 2

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MEL THOMPSON MBE RVM

Yerman From The Past

Joined March 1957

I first joined the TA in Belfast when I reached the age of 17, so I suppose that I have always wanted a military lifestyle. This came later at the age of 18 when I went to the recruiting office and met WO 1.John Kenny as I wished to join the RE I was told that a smart young fellow like me should try for the Guards. I knew at 5 ft. 9ins I would be too short but was convinced that I would be OK at this height. Of course, I was delighted I was made to feel as if the entire Bn of Irish Guards were waiting just for me. I later found out that John could convince anyone to become putty in his hands. My friend Stan Potter decided he would come with me on this great adventure and I must say we got more than we bargained for. Unfortunately, Stan only served for 6 years if I remember correctly, I used to see him regularly when I went on leave. His wife however did not approve as she once remarked to my wife Cath how do you put up with him he always gets my Stan drunk when he comes home so we drifted apart as the years rolled on.

Caterham Guards Depot was like entering a madhouse the first introduction was Follow the Runner. We had never seen anyone move so quickly in all our young lives and we were supposed to keep up with him. We lost him when he swung left at the NAAFI and were directed by other Rcts who had enjoyed the same fate as we were now trying to manage. Arriving at the Receiving Room we were issued with a mug and a KFS. We were then told go and get your lunch the IG dining room is just around the corner, which corner, what corner? We ended up in the Grenadier Gds mess room starving. We then had an interrogation from the Grens Rcts so we tried very hard to speak with what we thought an English accent sounds like and having just arrived in England that day, it was not convincing.

We then moved to the IG Squadding but and for the first time we felt part of our Regt. Our Squad Instr was a scouse called Dougy Dawson a national serviceman who kept reminding us he had only so many days to do before he was demobbed which does not help with moral. He was a bit of a bully and choose his victims wisely then assaulted them verbally and sometimes physically. The regime at Caterham was very difficult which was to be expected but some of the Instrs of all the other Regts were just as guilty by taking advantage of their rank and our lack of expereance of the Army system.

The sense of humour was fantastic and helped us through the difficult times. It certainly was not the money, £3 15p a week before stoppages £1 to the POSB (savings book) £1 Home and the rest was for cleaning kit, cigs, and to just squander away. We had some fantastic staff at Caterham from the CSM Johnny Kerr MM. Superintendent Sgts Pat Duffy, Bob McKenzie and Frank Ennis and they were excellent.

12 weeks later, we passed out and moved to Pirbright, which was No 7 Coy IG for further Tactical Training. A completely different set up, P1 Tactics and all that includes. We had different staff most of them ex wartime soldiers, Sgts Wacky Jones, Jimmy Doughart George Shannon. There was a feeling amongst our P1 that we had actually joined the Army and we were at last on our way to being Irish Guardsmen. This is when I first met Bill Davis as his squad from the Depot joined ours to make us up to P1 strength we remain friends to this day. The Training was very physical but as we, where all in the same boat comradeship developed we knitted together as a single unit. We were easily pleased as there was an AKC cinema in camp and we could go if our Trg allowed. The Training culminated with two weeks field Trg on the Yorkshire moors close to Scarborough. Our Clothing and equipment left a lot to be desired nothing was weather proof our denims had been designed by someone who had never left his office especially to Yorkshire in the winter as the denims were for wearing over your No3 Battle Dress, which was like wearing blankets under your suit. You couldn’t move, or fire your rifle as there was no way to maintain the firing position. When we concluded our Basic Trg we had, 2 weeks leave to blow all the compulsory savings £1.00 per week for 18 weeks plus our princely wage packet a sum of £3.15. a total of £21.15p. We had never had it so good!!!

We eventually arrived in Shorncliffe in Kent where the Bn was posted, a new chapter in our lives. The Draft where administrated by No 1 Coy and again our new experience began we had to renumbered all our kit as it was not done as IG custom demands. So the CQMS I shall only refer to as Big John sold us what we found out later to be Mine-Laying Tape (which was made from a sort of linen and not the plastic tape we have today) we ended a few shillings down but a bit wiser and less gullible for our future career in the Micks.

Stan Potter and I were posted to the Vickers Machine Gun PI in SP coy with a couple others from the draft very unusual as normally the lads in SP were all the senior Gdsn in the Bn. We were so proud and became ‘Cab Happy’ in our Champ vehicles the fore-runner to the Land Rover.

Our PI Sgt was Barney O’Flynn he was not the easiest person to get on with so the P1 looked forward to being deployed as individual detachments our L/Sgts commanders were Tommy Corcoran, Freddie Brown, Susie Powell and Johnno Johnston. They were great detachment commanders and combined humour with leadership, so this was the first time since we joined that we could relax and enjoy our soldiering.

The Bn ran a Cadre course and our Adjt, Major John Head decided that as volunteers where not forthcoming from the Gdsn in the remainder of the Rifle Coys he would set a presidence and encourage members of the Draft to join the course. The D/Sgt was Martin Campbell what a character he was, his drill left a lot to be desired but for any faults he may have had he was a good instructor and taught us there was always a place in instruction for humour. And as they say you always do well if you are enjoying what you are doing so I came top of the course and was immediately posted back to the Guards Depot about 7 days before the Micks were posted to Cyprus and a spot of active service. I was as sick as a parrot. I marched in to revert and get my posting cancelled but to no avail. As my new life unfolded I was really glad that things had turned out the way they did, looking back I was really too young for the job in hand some of the Rcts in my squads where older than me and a few were married which sometimes made life a bit awkward when a good blocking was required. I completed my first squad and started to enjoy life at Caterham Serving at the depot in those days we had almost the same staff as when I was an Rct, One addition was Sammy Robinson as a PTI. Sammy took no prisoners and gave the lads a bit of a hard time I remember on one occasion there was a rather small and weedy Rct with bright red hair who would not jump off the top board in the pool. The poor lad was terrified of water so our Sammy threw him off the top board accompanied with screams of absolute terror and the poor boy and that’s all he was, shit himself. He was then blessed with the nickname of Torpedo Hole, which stuck with him for his service whilst at the Depot which I must say didn’t last very long after this incident. Justice was served as Sammy now had A Floater to get out of the pool! There is a long bamboo pole with what only can be described as large soup ladle on the end. Sammy spent hours ‘fishing’ unsuccessfully trying to retrieve it, to shouts of go a Sammy just pick it up Eventually he had to confess to the SMI and received an RTU for his deed. It was at this time I was promoted to L/Sgt. the Depot then moved across to Pirbright. There was a new batch of Instrs. Frank Carvill, Charley McHenry, Billy Cook, Alfie Cunningham and a new RSM, RSM Morris O’Brien MM Irish Guards to the complete delight of all No 7 company. I stayed at the depot for a further three squads before returning to the Bn which by now was at Caterham so once again I was back to my original location but this time serving in number 2 company. During this period the remainder of the Bn went on Ex in Otterburn and good old two company did public duties. It seemed non-stop, Guard Mounting, then dismounting, the following day rehearsal followed by Gd Mount the next day this lasted for a month. We had the one drummer left behind that could actually play Last Post and he was transported to the Tower every night for the well-known ceremony at the foot of the steps. Unfortunately one evening he was very late arriving, had to forego the customary ‘warming up the bugle’, and went straight to the top of the steps. When ordered to play Last Post by the officer of the Guard not a note came out. One of the Guard had stuffed his bugle with bread whilst he was getting changed. Considering that apart for one night in 1941, this ceremony had taken place since 1069 another unspoken record acquired by the Micks. In those days we also guarded the Bank of England a bit liked ‘set a thief to catch a thief. We were paid extra for this 7 shillings and sixpence a princely sum about38p in today’s money. The Guard used to march to the Bank from Chelsea and as it was only a night duty you can imagine the traffic problems that caused.

I was the L/Sgt on the West Gate the day that Uri Gagarin visited the Tower Thousands of sight seers turned up to see the first man in space, The Sgt of the Guard was Harry Dalton and I was isolated in the West Gate little guardroom no instruction were forthcoming as to what complement our gallant band of three should pay to this Russian Hero. A Butt salute, or a Present, we waited in vain but not a word was received. So the best I could was to do a half run half march while trying not to look out of place made my way to the main Gd Room which was beside the Bloody Tower. This was not the expleative I was calling it as I made my way. There had been a great discussion on the subject of compliments to be paid and the little book of The Brigade of Guards rules and regs had been well thumbed and still no answer had been found. As I started on lap two back my heroes under the command of L/Cpl Duffy fell in outside the Gd Rm. I arrived as Uri entered the Tower and I said to the Gd Butt Salute. As one man, the whole guard came up to the salute and I was introduce to Uri. There was a huge photo that evening in the Evening Standard of our efforts however; the press found out that the Sgt of the Guard was Harry Dalton so he got the glory. I phoned my wife and said that I would be delayed coming home as I was sure to be locked up for one reason or the other. True to form ‘Slims Coach’ was stopped at the Gd Rm and the NCO I shared my bunk with Johnny Mayne, took great delight in repeating the well-known phrase Laces, Braces and Tie as he marched me to my cell. I was realised the next morning having been bollocked by RSM ‘ Dinger Bell ‘ I now have a rose in my garden called Arthur Bell and I get so much pleasure pruning it every summer!

In the Autumn 61/62, we moved to BAOR to York Bks near Dussledorf, drill and public duties left behind, we had to learn the skills of a Mechanised Infantry Bn in our armoured Pigs. A Humber vehicle with a well-earned nickname of being a Pig. I remember our first Quick Train Ex the Micks terrorised the drivers on the Auto Bahn we had a DR (Dispatch Rider) Gdsn Haughton who lived eat and I’m sure slept in his riding breaches. When we tipped out he would fearlessly speed on to the Auto Bahn and stop the traffic on the inside lane to allow his Bn to join the motorway, why he was never swept away on the bumper of a speeding Merc I will never know, he would have received a posthumous award. These were the famous occasions when Sgts like the fabulous Joe Skates were seen going up the Autobahn looking for a town called Ausfahart. Our mission was to defend the opposite bank of the river Vesser that was very fast flowing. We had row across in Assault Boats made of some sort of metal that sounded like a drum when it was struck by the rifle butt of one of the carrying team. We were aiming for stealth but every time someone ‘Banged the Drum’ followed by a chorus of shush and muffled giggles many a pair of underpants received a drip or two. It was like a sketch from the Benny Hill show. On one occasion, the R.E. Bridge Building Squadron informed us that they were unable to complete the bridge because of the swell in the river increasing the rate of flow. This was seen as a challenge to our Pioneer P1 WO Martin Aldridge so our pioneers built their own I can still see the pride on their faces standing in the middle of their masterpiece with Billy McCullough saying to Martin We’re sinking everyone cleared the bridge and it was never mentioned again.

The Welsh Gds were in Gort Bks just next to us in Hubblerath they had received notice to join a NATO Ex.to Greece to bring them up to strength No 2 Coy IG where to join them under the command of Major John Head a difficult man to please!! Our Coy Comd at the time was a great guy Major John Oakes he was the Captain of the Brit Olympic Ski Team. Of ALL the micks I’ve ever known I have got on well with most of them but our CQMS Danny O’Sullivan was the exception to the rule he was the original Bastard. We had marched throughout the night from lunch time to breakfast time the next day where our breakfast and the CQMS with his little fat store man Paddy X were waiting. We each received a half a slice of possessed [processed] cheese and half a slice of spam, I went to see my Pi Comd 2/1t PJFFA DeRemusatt who with the other senior members of the Coy were enjoying a fry-up. I reminded my PL Comd that the order of presidence was junior ranks before senior ranks.

The CQMS was hastily dispatched to get us a Haybox of stew and one of rice it was obvious he was not pleased. Within a few hours he reappeared with the food, issued it and as we all waited for the usual cry of Buckshees The CQMS told our Coy Cook L/Sgt Pat Rochford to bury the remainder which he refused to do and was immediately told you are in Open Arrest which brought a roar of laughter from the remainder of the Coy as we where in the middle of a rather large wooded area Danny was known as ‘Fat Chops’ and we were to cross swords on many occasions after this. I remember in Greece which is a Lava and rock based country and to Dig In was impossible but not to John Head, we broke every trenching tool we were given and could only manage to get down to our knees. The 5 Star American General I/C the MLF Ex. Inspected the defensive position at dusk. It was slightly embarrassing to stand up in your trench and state your name, field of fire, left of Arc, then your right of Arc. John Head was fuming. My Rt of Arc overlapped Denis Cleary’s left of Arc. I had to take the Gen. Over and introduce him to Denis his section had managed to dig in up to their chests and adopt the firing position. This really made me feel bad. The Gen. was well impressed and Cleary was getting all the glory, even John Head was smiling. Then the Gen asked Gdsn Jimmy Kearns "what’s your name soldier. Jimmy immediately jumped to his feet revealing that the whole section where on their knees. I will always remember Jimmy’s reply with pride in his voice Gdsn Kearns sir’ Denis was not so pleased John Head reverted back to his original face of dejection and my Sec could hardly keep from giggling. We had many ex during our posting to BAOR I left in 1964 on a posting to RMAS to take over from Bill Barlow who again was quite a fascinating character, I last bumped into him in London as a courier for the MOD. He took great delight telling me he had changed his religion to become a Russian Orthodox, which amused him so much considering his employment

During my tour, I met some great people both staff and Cdts and still keep in touch with most of them.

The Bn then moved to Aden and I joined them at the same time as Eddie Fitzpatrick having just completed his AADW course to becoming our A/CQMS in No3 Coy. I know I don’t have to say anything about Eddie he was a great Mick with a sunny outlook on life, a lovely Lady wife Mary and his boys and anyone who remembers him will have the same respect and fondness of his memory. We lost a total of nine Micks for something not one of us believed would ever work to try and support a Government that was totally unsupported by the population.

With Eddie gone, I was the next senior Sgt in ‘Dusty Three’ Coy so I was nominated to A/CQMS to bring the company back to Public Duties. This is when I fell foul with QM Major Arthur Bell, we had to collect all the equipment issued for purpose in Aden before moving back to the UK. Anyone deficient any item was made to pay for it. Gaiters were still a UK issue and everyone hated them so most of the Coy kept their Putees and paid for them. Those that did hand them in witnessed the store man take them around the back of the store and burn them. To me totally illogical, so I went to see Arthur who nearly had me taken around the back of the store to suffer the same fate. I still felt this was immoral after the Gdsn had served 10months in this God forsaken country so I went to see my Coy Comd Major PJFFA De Rumaset my old PL Comd he in turn went to see Arthur so I in turn was summoned to see Arthur again. I couldn’t repeat what was said as all of us Micks learned early in life just stand there and think of something other than the bollocking you are getting. Never the less the practise of charging for the