| SUMMER 1962. |
| "DEAR MUM . . .". |
| - Cambrai Platoon writes home |
| I was awakened by a noisy corporal, who insisted that I was to get up. He came in and shouted something and, not knowing who it was, I said, "In a minute, mother," and within seconds I was sunbathing on the floor. I soon realised where I was and made a quick move for the washroom. |
| The day began roughly at half past six (or do I mean at roughly half past six?) |
| To his surprise he found me up. Quickly shrugging off his ardent disbelief he narrowed his eyes. "Whit are ye doin' up?" His Scottish brogue mutilated the air. I paused, trying to find a subtle answer. Sensing my purposeful gaze upon the ceiling, he turned, made a rude noise and disappeared. |
| BREAKFAST |
| . . . . Got up as usual and went for breakfast, which is strange because it only gives me a bigger appetite. |
| Missed it! |
| MORNING INSPECTION |
| Around 8-o'clock we had a locker inspection by our sergeant. I was dressed in weapon training kit. All went well. Ten minutes later the Platoon Commander came and we had another locker inspection, as if we could make them untidy in such a short time! After this we were called out on parade, and I was told to get changed into classroom dress. Having completed this operation I was told - mistake - to change back. If I have learned nothing else today, I certainly know how to change clothes. |
| Inspection went well. The blocks were at a very high standard, so we got a telling off because they were better than they had been on Colonel's inspection. |
| IN THE TRAINING WINGS |
| We had the SMG for the first time. When I first saw the Sterling, I thought the barrel had been riddled with bullets, but when I asked the instructor he said, "They har hair holes." |
| After weapon training, we had First Aid and the instructor asked me what I would do if I saw someone with a bayonet in them. I replied, "Treat myself for shock, sir." He said nothing. |
| We were doing life-saving and learnt about the `kiss of life'. I think it is most efficient and I am sure that if more men knew how to perform it, fewer girls would die from drowning. |
| First Aid - felt sick! |
| ADVENTURE TRAINING |
| After having a horrible night's sleep I arose to find I had Adventure Training. Being weak minded, I gave up after a bit and lagged behind all the way, wondering whether to collapse or to break my leg so they would have to carry me back. Both plans failed. |
| Agonies of foot and mental tortures followed in quick succession. The officer strode ahead as if on a Sunday walk, a large dog conveniently pulling him up all but the severest gradients. |
| EDUCATION AND HOBBIES |
| We sat at our desks scribbling madly away on a piece of paper, which some-how seems to please the instructor. I discovered that my associates are quite lacking in brains. |
| An amusing evening. Got stuck on a sand bank, got out, pushed the canoe off and paddled ashore. An old man standing by said, "A few more yards and you would have been in the quicksands, lad," and walked away disappointed. |
| EVENING |
| Nothing much happened this evening, except that somebody went to the N.A.A.F.I. to get me some milk, as I have had it since I was born and can't leave it alone. |
| Lights out. 'Screw' comes creeping in. Fumbling over his bed, he loudly prepares himself for sleep. All serene, then sounds of mirth come floating across the room: little does he know his bed has been tied with boot laces, holding it together like a steel trap. Words are plentiful as he tries to solve the problem and finally he succeeds in squeezing between the sheets. |
| All is peaceful in Cambrai, as I begin to drift into dreamland. Bang! The door flies open and lights blaze as 'Beak' comes in, thoughtfully bringing us cream cakes. "Good lad, Beak" we think as we settle down again, but it's no use. Strains of Luxemburg compete with the sounds of Fenton's screams for help coming through the wall. A typical night has started. |
| SUNDAY MORNING |
| Church was interesting this morning (there is a new girl joined the choir) . . . |
| I realised it was Sunday. Sunday morning always makes me homesick, but I suppose most Junior Leaders feel the same way, and when I think of this I soon forget about it. And so goes on a Junior Leader's life, and each week he is a little wiser. |
| The writers were: RUDD, VAN BUITEN, REYNOLDS, ORAM, HAFFENDEN and MOUNTFORD. |
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