The Life That Should Have Been But Never Was Final Draft

The lives that should have been

This story follows the lives of four people born on the same day on 20th December 1956, Stephen and Johan were neighbours in Poplar East London, they were best friends, at the same time Vinka and Marlin were neighbours in Ellios in Sweden. Vinka was Johan’s cousin while Marlin was her best friend.

Stephen is five foot ten with blue eyes and brown hair, Johan is five foot ten with blue eyes and blond hair, Vinka if five foot ten with blue eyes and blond hair and Marlin is five foot ten with blue eyes and brown hair.

Stephen and Johan from the age of seven spent their summers and Christmas in Sweden with the girls, as they grew up they became very close. All through their school days all four were very bright kids and top in all their classes, they were all good at languages all able to speak English, Swedish, French, German, Arabic, Spanish.

When they left school the girls joined the Swedish Army in the Intelligence Service as their National Service for one year then they worked for a translating company enabling them to work remotely. The boys joined the Royal Marines where they did two tours of Norther Ireland, two winter exercises in Norway and a Mediterranean exercise. They married the girls after their first tour of Northern Ireland. They did the first UN Cyprus tour and got the medal.

They left the Royal Marines after four years and transferred to the British Army in the Royal Anglian Regiment and were posted to Berlin and had quarter next door to each other. The boys did a promotion course and were promoted to Lance Corporal, later in that tour of Berlin the did Junior Brecon and promoted Corporal. Each had twins born on the same day in June 1979. Each couple had twins born on the same day a boy and a girl each.

They then were posted to the Depot The Queen Division as section commanders for two years, they brought their own houses n Hitchin before being posted back to the Battalion in Colchester. They did a tour to Northern Ireland as section commanders before going on to do Senior Brecon and promoted Sergeant and another tour at the Depot as Platoon Sergeants.

The girls joined the TA Intelligence Corps and were attached to the C Squadron 21 Special Air Service in Hitchin, while keeping up their translation work. They did a tour of Norther Ireland with the regular SAS and received the General Officer Commanding Northern Ireland Commendation for their work, they then did lots of other work with the regular SAS. In their spare time they brought and did up old racing motorbikes.

Arriving back at the Battalion they were offered redundancy and left the regular army. The boys then did selection for the TA SAS and passed and badged. They did many courses and exercises and in 1991 all four of them went on the first Gulf was with 22 SAS and the boys won the military medal each.

In 1998 all four transferred to 15 UK Psychological Operations Group, and over the next fifteen years did many operational tours and became subject matter experts. Their operational tours were: Kosovo, Macedonia, Afghanistan, Iraq, Serra Leone.

They won the national lottery in December 2012 and brought a Hallberg Rassy 43 mark 3, had a house built just out side Gosport. They had about fifty motorbikes between them. They could all telemark ski since they were seven years old and raced for the British Army.

Military training for the defence of the Swedish nation and its country is not just a duty but a democratic right. With the catch-phrase of 'one man - one rifle - one vote' the Swedes gained a full parliamentary system at the beginning of this century. Any aggressor should know that a united people stands behind the key words in the political decla

Transcript

The Lives That Never Were That Should Have Been

By Tim Heale Dedicated to my Brother Stephen Patrick Heale

This story follows the lives of four people born on the same day at the same time on 20th

December 1956, Stephen and Johan were neighbours in Poplar, East London, they grew

up as best friends, at the same time Vinka and Marlin were neighbours in Ellios in Sweden

and grew up best friends. Vinka was Johan’s cousin.

It was the twentith of December 1956 at around four o’clock in the afternoon, in a slum

tenement building in Poplar, East London, one of the nuns from Nunartas House,

Sister Julian was attending Ingrid, while next door Nurse Franklin one of the midwifes

was attending Margaret, both in labour. Meanwhile just over a thousand miles away in

Ellios, Sweden, Ingrid’s sister Anna and her best friend Silvi, both were in labour and had

daughters born in the community hospital at the same time.

The weather that day in London was very foggy and cold with the threat of more snow,

activity in the docks was busy with ships being unloaded. Mick and Harry were waiting

for their lorry’s to be loaded. Harry had been working on the ships when he met Ingrid

in Gothenburg, they fell in love and were married, a year later they moved to Poplar and

moved in next door to Mick and Margaret.

Mick got Harry a job in the docks as a driver with his company, Margaret became friends

with Ingrid when she moved in, they attended antenatal classes together in the community

hall run by the midwives and nuns from Nunartus House.

Ingrid was a typical Swede being blue eyed, with blond hair, she was very intellegent and

spoke a few languages. She had been working in the shipyard in Gothenberg where Harry’s

ship was in for a refit, that is where they met for the first time.

Margaret was a brunett with green eyes, she was working as seamstress in a local company

making curtains, she had met Mick at a dance and fell in love with him, he was a few

years older than her, he was a bit of a ladies man. Mick was tall dark and hansome and

considered a real catch with the local ladies.

Harry was tall with mousey hair and was well built, he was the same age as Ingrid and very

much in love with her, he was kind and caring. He had been in the merchant navy when he

met Ingrid, his ship spent several months in Gothenberg while having a refit.

All four babies were born within a minute of each other, while the boys were living in cold,

damp slum conditions in Poplar, the girls on the other hand lived in beautiful painted

woodern houses in Ellios some fifty miles north from Gothenberg. The weather at the time

was cold with lots of snow.Ingrid’s sister Anna was younger than her, she was married to Erik who worked in the

boatyard in Ellios as a shipwright building yachts, he was blond and well built with blue

eyes, Anna was as beautiful as Ingrid, their farther Olaf was a master shipwright, he looked

just like a typical Viking, muscular, blond, blue eyed with a kind heart, he was married to

Greta and this is where the girls get their good looks, she was a real beauty, blond, piercing

blue eyes and a very cheeky smile and a very warm heart.

Silvi, Anna’s best friend also a beauty was a brunette with blue eyes, she married Lars

who worked in the same boatyard as Olaf and Erik. Most people in the area worked at the

boatyard which was a good employer for the area.

While Margaret went out to work, she left me in the kind and capable hands of Ingrid who

treated Johan and I as if we were brothers. Growing up we spent most of our waking hours

immersed in a mix of languages.

I was fed egg and toasted soldiers in English but played kurragomma (hide and seek)

in Swedish. When I returned home at the end of each day my own family looked totally

bemused when I asked for shinken och ost sandwiches for tea. What didn’t they understand

about ham and cheese sandwiched between two slices of smorat brot. From a very young

age Ingrid instilled in both Johan and I not to waist food and eat everything put in front of

us and not to be fussy.

My brother Tim was born in April 1958 and was delivered at home by one of the nuns from

Nunartus House. We were still in the slum tenement building at this time but mum tried

her best to keep it clean, it was tough when there was so much damp and mould. Ingrid

looked after Tim as well when mum went back to work.

Johan and I went to the nursery school when we were three years old, it was just down the

street from our building and not far from the docks. The area was rough there were lots of

bombed out buildings left from the war, with many buildings condemned including ours

waiting to be demolished.

Twice a week in the community hall there was a boxing club for the local boys, Johan and I

went there every week and learnt the basics of boxing, how to stand, how to throw a punch

and how to protect yourself, it was great fun, we did it for about a year before we moved

out of the area, my dad and Harry got new jobs.

This break through came for my father, and also Harry, when they were both offered jobs

with British Road Services at a newly built depot in Hitchin, Hertfordshire. As well as

increased wages both families were fortunate enough to take possession of new council

houses, again next door to each other on a modern estate. Both homes had the luxury of an

inside bathroom, a new fully equipped kitchen, three bedrooms and a box room. Although

just 50 miles away from Poplar, Hitchin seemed like another world.This was early March 1960 as the slums we lived in were due to be demolished. My mother

was pregnant again and at the end of March 1960 just after we moved in Amanda arrived

on the scene, life changed for Tim and myself, Amanda had to be the centre of attention

all the time, funny really because Tim and I were the total opposite preferring to keep a

low profile.

Johan, Tim and I spent most Saturdays watching rugby through the fence wishing we

could play like that. On Sunday mornings we could start to play aged five but couldn’t play

in matches until we were six, so we were allowed to go over the fence and throw a few balls

about and this was the start of our life long love of rugby.

In our front garden was an old cherry tree that Tim and I use to climb all the time just to

get away from Amanda, whose only desire to be the centre of attention was at times, a real

nuisance, she just wouldn’t leave us alone for a minute and mum insisted that we take her

with us when we went out to play, we always did our best to leave her behind.

Once we moved in we were sent off to a new nursery school, this was at the top of our road,

Tim started at the school as well although he was in the next class down. There were some

twenty kids in my class and on our first day, when Johan didn’t want anyone knowing what

we were talking about we would speak Swedish. I would practice speaking with his mum

in Swedish all the time. When Johan came round to our house and Amanda was seeking

attention Johan and I would speak Swedish and Amanda would get fed up and go and

annoy Tim instead.

Tim wasn’t impressed as he was always playing with his mates John and Tony from his

class. Lucky for me when Amanda went to the nursery school Johan and I moved up to

infants school which was the other way from the nursery, so we went a different way to

school so didn’t have to see her, poor old Tim did though, I did feel sorry for him at times.

I hated the school summer holidays because Johan and his family would go off to Sweden

for the whole summer, I missed him a lot, I did play with Tim on occasion but he was with

his mates for most of the time. I was made to look after Amanda more often than not, she

was a real pain in the behind always wanting to be the centre of attention, how I longed for

the summer holidays to be over.

When Johan came back after the summer he would teach me all the Swedish he had learnt

while being with his cousins. He told me all about them, there was Ronnie who was two

years older than us. He told me all about Vinka and a lot about her best friend Marlin, they

were the same age as us. He said that his arnt Anna was expecting a baby at Christmas just

like my mother.

I told him that I had been stuck baby sitting Amanda for most of the holidays but we did

get a week at my nan and granddads in Peacehaven near the Sussex coast and had a couple

of days with my cousins on the beach in Newhaven.The next major event to hit my family was during the harsh winter of 1962. Just a few

days after Christmas and during a heavy snow storm another sister was born. Tracey was

delivered with the help of my nan and aunt Marjorie, as the midwife was unable to drive

through the snow and assist my mother. All I remember was peering out of the window

for hours in my coat and bobble hat waiting for a stork to fly over, I thought I had better be

standing by to catch whatever it was to drop. With the new arrival of a little sister Amanda

had someone else to be in control of and she left Tim and I alone for the majority of the

time.

Johan said that his aunt Anna had a baby girl called Petra born at the beginning of

December but forgot to tell me before he went to Sweden for Christmas, he said she was

cute and pretty for a baby, he told be that Vinka and Marlin were very happy. He told me

more about Vinka and Marlin and how good they were at skiing and a lot of fun to be with,

he said he told them all about me, they hoped to meet me one day.

The infants school which Johan and I attended was at the end of our road, so it wasn’t very

far for us to walk to and from with the other kids. There were about twenty children in the

class who all lived in the local vicinity. These were blissful times away from my nuisance of

a sister. School was the one place we couldn’t be made to have Amanda tag along with us,

as she was too young even for the nursery.

Another sister avoidance tactic was to climb the apple tree at the bottom of our back garden.

This backed onto the land owned by Hitchin’s rugby club. I discovered that by nestling

myself between the branches I could see the weekend matches being played. However on,

one autumn day, having just settled into my version of a nest, I painfully received several

wasp stings. I soon learned that trees laden with fruit were not the best places to sit and

that the knot holes in the aging fence panels, although providing an obscured view, were a

preferable way of watching the game.

On Sundays we went to the Rugby club and played with the under six team, although we

didn’t play any games we did learn all the basics of rugby, how to throw a ball, how to catch

a ball, how to kick a ball and all about the rules, we loved it so much fun.

In infants school Johan and I were still the very best of friends and we did everything

together, we developed a love for reading, a real passion, as our reading ability improved

we loved war stories especially escape ones, we collected the Commando booklets each

week with our pocket money, when I went to his house, which was everyday we would

read, sometimes Ingrid would read Swedish stories to us.

Once a week the school would take us to the local swimming baths where we learnt to

swim, it was an outdoor pool and was at best very cold but worse once you got out if there

was a cold wind blowing from the east, anyway Johan and I became very good swimmers,

and gained lots of swimming certificates.In Sweden Vinka and Marlin were doing very well in their school, they were naturals when it

came to learning, their reading ability was very good for their age, they also had swimming

lessons but at an indoor pool as outdoors in winter wouldn’t have been practical. They did

ski the mile to and from school everyday in the winter and on Wednesday afternoons they

have ski racing lessons.

In their aikido classes they already had moved up from white belt to yellow belt having

spent many hours training twice a week since they were three years old, they one day

hoped to become black belt instructors.

Johan told me that like us they loved reading and had a real thurst for knowledge, they

already started to do English in school, he said they loved all the subjects that we loved as

well. I wished I could go and meet them in person, I certainly wasn’t looking forward to

another summer away from Johan, especially since Amanda was becoming even more of

a nuisance than normal.

Between the two of us we had a real thirst for knowledge and were the top of our class in

every subject. Johan and his parents would go to Sweden a couple of times a year to visit

his mother Ingrid’s family, for me this was hard as I missed him so much. The summer

holidays of 1963 which I was dreading when we were seven and at the end of infant school,

Johan and I were going up to junior school in the September, Johan’s parents asked if I

would like to go to Sweden with them for the summer holiday’s.

Imagine my excitement when Johan’s parents approached mine to seek their permission

for me to join them in Sweden for the whole six weeks of the summer. Despite money

being tight my father was all for me grasping the opportunity and gave the idea his thumbs

up. My mother took a more practical approach and a lot more convincing, as she would

be the one with the problem of stretching the household budget. Mum also felt it would be

unfair to let me go abroad and not treat my brother and sisters to a similar adventure. Of

course they would spend much of the summer at Nan and Granddads farm.

Tim put on a great performance of being excited for me, as I had already bribed him and

promised he could play with any of my toys while I was away. Amanda, as I predicted, put

every objection possible in my way but soon relented when my mother presented her with

a new dress and told her she could have a friend over for tea. Tracey was too young to know

what all the fuss was about but sensed something out of the ordinary was happening. I just

had to sit tight, be on best behaviour and await my mothers decision.

During a routine shopping trip with mum we stopped off at the post office; nothing unusual

about that. However on this occasion, and to my utter amazement, mum requested a one

year passport with my photo and details on it! I struggled to keep my excitement under

control, with my stomach churning with happiness I felt I would burst. Heart pumping I

ran all the way home to give Johan the best news ever, that the verdict was in and I wasgoing to Sweden too.

Prior to leaving home my mum and Ingrid took Johan and I to get our new school uniforms

as we wouldn’t have time when we returned from Sweden and also that we needed to dress

smart for dinner on the ship in the evening, which I was told must be kept for best. Mum

folded my new clothes neatly in dad’s old Army demob brown suitcase, which I was to

borrow for the duration of the holiday. Dad wrote my name and address on a brown label

and attached it to the handle of the case, then showed me how to use the small key to open

and close the lock. He presented me with the key threaded onto a piece of string, which I

proudly wore around my neck like an Olympic medal.

When the big day arrived a colleague of my dad’s drove up to our house in his Standard 8

car and loaded my suitcase into the boot, he then knocked on Johan’s door to collect his

family. We all squeezed into the tiny car with our luggage, the smaller bags piled high on

our knees. The journey had begun and even the smell of the leather seats as we drove away

in the car was new and exciting to me.

We pulled up at Hitchin railway station and a porter came over with a barrow for us to load

our cases onto. Waving goodbye to dad’s friend at the station had been much easier than

earlier that morning, when I had been forced to dutifully kiss and hug all my family in turn

as they lined the pavement in front of our house. What a palava that had been. Wheeling

our cases on the trolley we went in search of the platform for trains leaving for London

King’s Cross.

After a wait that seemed forever to a seven year old excitable boy, I heard the thunderous

sound of the steam train approaching, then as the huge hissing object got closer I could

smell and see the smuts of charcoal within the steam billowing from the train’s funnel.

The sight was magnificent. Johan and I raced along the platform and found the carriages

bearing large gold figure 2s on the doors, which were allocated to second class ticket

holders. With cases placed in front of our legs and some bags stowed on the shelf over our

heads, we crammed into the carriage and closed the doors with a solid clunk. The guard

waved a green flag, blew his silver whistle and we were off.

The rhythm of the train was hypnotic and Johan and I tried as much as we could to stifle

our laughter as we watched Ingrid’s head loll backwards and forwards as she fought to

keep her eyes open. Not long into the journey I regretted wearing short trousers as the

tartan seat covers were very itchy. I decided to stand up, breathe onto the window then

make patterns in the condensation, much to the annoyance of other passengers whose tut-

tutting soon put a stop to that activity.

Peering out of the window Johan and I found no end of things to spot and use for a very

long lasting game of ‘eye spy’. We had additional options to choose from as we were able

to switch in and out of two languages for some of the words known to us. This activity was

curtailed when a loud whistle preceded the train entering a tunnel plunging our carriageinto darkness, thus pausing the game.

Harry closed the sliding window to prevent the thick coal smelling smoke entering the

carriage, but his efforts failed when a black smut landed on Ingrid’s cheek. Licking his

handkerchief he tried in vain to rectify the situation by wiping the mark away but only

made matters worse by smudging a grey trail across her face. Flicking his hand away in

rebuff Ingrid reached for her powder compact and made a scowl powerful enough to crack

any mirror.

Eventually the sound from the wheels on the rails changed their tune as we slowly rumbled

into the heart of London. It was strange to see rows of faces so close to the window of other

passengers as they waited on the platform to board the train.

Dodging the gap we alighted the train and with suitcases unloaded and everyone accounted

for we headed across the busy concourse. I had never seen so many people rushing about

in all directions and miraculously avoiding collision. Our luggage trolley trundled through

the crowds as we headed off in search of the District and Circle Lines that would take us

on the underground to Liverpool Street. It took the strength of Samson to heave the heavy

bags down the many concrete steps and through the glossy tiled tunnels leading to the

platforms. In the absence of that biblical super power, Harry, Johan and I had to suffice.

An underground train rattled noisily along the line and sped right past where we were

standing, sending a warm breeze mingled with dust whirling around us. As the train

reached the end of the platform, but before disappearing into the next tunnel, it stopped.

The doors opened in perfect alignment for us to step forward and into the already crowded

carriage. I stood wedged under the armpit of someone leaning up against the carriage wall,

although the smell was bad at least I wasn’t completely squashed. We only had a few stops

to go so I pulled my shirt over my nose and practiced shallow breathing until we reached

the connecting overground train which took us to our final leg of this railway journey, the

Port of Harwich.

Then I saw it. It was magnificent. It was the size of the largest building I could possibly

imagine. It was the ship that would sail across the vast North Sea to the Swedish port of

Gothenburg and it was totally wonderful.

From here on we changed from speaking English to Swedish. I had a struggle getting

my tongue around some of the pronunciation but I had the confidence to join in with

conversations and could understand some of what was being said to me if spoken slowly. I

was currently at about the same level as Harry, who was also English and although married

to Ingrid he found learning another language difficult and chose not to practice it at home.

Like me, he probably understood a lot more than he spoke.

The massive passenger ship had several decks above the water line and a few below. There

were long corridors with rows of cabin doors. Although numbered all the doors lookedexactly the same regardless of which level they were situated. Johan and I shared a cabin

next to his parents.

Not bothering to unpack Johan and I set off to explore. Once away from the maze of cabins

we found ourselves in a large hallway with lifts and wide shiny railed staircases. Into the

lift we went and headed upwards. When the bell pinged at Deck 5 it stopped with a jolt.

We slid open the concertina metal guard, then opened the lift door and stepped out onto

a plush carpet.

Directly ahead of us was a scene I had never witnessed before, other than in a book. Men

in white uniforms were smartly sat behind screens. I could make out what appeared to be

radar. Some of the men wore headphones and others paced the floor within the large glass

enclosure of an office. I later was told this was the ‘bridge’. I had only heard that word in

relation to a game played by old people drinking sherry when visiting friends, or quietly in

the church hall on Wednesday afternoons.

This type of bridge was full of activity with panels of switches, charts stuck to the walls

and also onto tables with men bent over them holding compasses and drawing pencil lines

across them. I could see sheets of tide tables displayed on a pin board and shelves holding

rows of neatly labelled files, then I notice the sign in large bold letters ‘No Public Access’.

We backed away sheepishly then side by side raced each other down the wide staircase to

the deck below.

Here we discovered a shop which, judging from the numerous posters, appeared to be

offering discounts on most of its products. There were clothes rails with T-shirts and

jumpers being sold at half price mingled between counters dedicated entirely to perfume.

A huge area about the size of the supermarket in my home town was selling alcohol and

cigarettes. I saw several men leave the shop carrying bulging bags filled with multi packs

of red and white packets of Marlborough the ones cowboys preferred.

Peering through the window I could see trays of trinkets and rotating stands bearing

bangles and long coloured strands of beads. This was the most popular section with ladies

picking things up, putting them down again and pondering whether or not to buy the

items they clutched in their hands. It reminded me of being dragged around the shops

with my mum and having to wait for the decision making process to begin, let alone end.

Closest to the tills was an appealing assortment of chocolate and fancy tins of biscuits.

Perhaps I could lure Harry towards that particular section next time we were together, as

children had to be accompanied when shopping on board.

Strolling further along the deck I heard sounds of laughter and caught the familiar smell of

beer mingled with cigarette smoke coming from a pub, except this pub had no front door.

It was modern and open planned with a shiny floor and comfortable high backed sofas.

We both hung around the entrance listening to the jukebox until Buddy Holly finished hissong, then walked on.

Tucked away at the end of deck 4 was a quiet but well stocked library. Only one person was

in there reading a newspaper, so we took the opportunity to sit down and in low voices

planned our next move - how to venture outside.

We knew that the external doors were awkward to open being heavy and made from steel.

Harry had warned us not to even try to open those doors as we were likely to get our

fingers trapped if they slammed shut. Did he consider us to be stupid or weaklings? We

decided that if we lurked in the corridor close to one of the doors leading outside we could

just tag on behind the person walking in front of us, therefore heeding all advice given by

Harry and even be accompanied by an adult, another one of Harry’s safety rules.

Johan and I waited on the port side of a corridor playing ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’ and in just

a few moments a giggly couple came into view. The young lady was twiddling with what

appeared to be an engagement ring and the adoring couple were both totally oblivious to

us. Her tall fiancé swung open the external door and held it open with his arm for her to

pass under. Politely saying ‘thank you’ we just followed her under his arm and out into the

salty sea air. It was that easy.

Nearly tripping over a deckchair we gazed through the railings. With the land still in sight

we watched the cranes busily working in the docks, also fork lift trucks darting backwards

and forwards loading and offloading pallets from queues of waiting lorries. We stood

transfixed at the same spot until the grey buildings, tall chimneys and tiny houses gradually

faded into the distance.

By now our stomachs were telling us that we must have skipped a meal and we felt the need

to go in search of food. This time with no one close by to assist us with the heavy door

Johan and I struggled on our own. Using all our might we managed to hold the door open

just enough to squeeze back inside before it slammed shut with a solid sounding clunk. I

wished I hadn’t used my foot as a wedge during this process and continued our tour of the

boat hobbling along behind Johan.

We noticed smartly dressed passengers walking past us in couples, or in small groups, but

all going in the same direction; so we followed them and soon found their destination to

be the main restaurant. Was it that time already. With my foot now miraculously recovered

at the thought of eating we raced back to our cabin, where Ingrid and Harry were pacing

up and down the corridor wondering where we had been. I have never changed so quickly

in my life. Now donning smart new trousers with matching jacket I fumbled with my tie,

then with a fleeting last second glance in the mirror I was ready.

Sitting at the large round table I was on my best behaviour, we were seated on a table with

four other people who said we looked like proper gentleman. The waiter flicked open a

linen napkin and laid it on my lap then handed me a menu. I hadn’t heard of most of thechoices but recognised tomato soup, roll and butter, beef steak, chips and peas so politely

placed my order with an approving nod from Ingrid. We joined in the polite conversation

during the meal.

I began to miss my mum’s easy to eat shepherd’s pie as I tore at the meat as best I could

with the adult sized knife and fork. No way would I be treated like a little child and have

my food cut up for me. I chewed the juicy meat until my jaws ached determined to eat

every morsel. When the waiter returned to clear the plates Harry announced that he would

forego a dessert in favour of the cheese board. Although nearing full, but not quite to the

brim, I was eager to try Black Forest gateaux, but only because it sounded posh. The huge

portion of chocolate sponge cake layered with cherries arrived and I then understood the

phrase ‘eyes bigger than the belly’. I did my best to finish it but was defeated by the last inch

of thickly whipped cream topped with flakes of yet more chocolate.

I would never forget that wonderful meal. It had looked like something I had only ever

seen in the glossy magazines at mum’s hair dressing salon when I had been dragged along

reluctantly to sit and wait for her, thoroughly bored and restless. I wished I could tell Tim

about my day so far. Yes, it was still only day one of my holiday and it was totally wonderful.

Already past my usual bedtime Ingrid and Harry allowed Johan and I to join them in

the lounge bar to watch the evening entertainment, but on the proviso that they would

determine whether the act was deemed suitable for family viewing. With fingers crossed

we sat alongside another family at a table facing a large, brightly lit, stage. A drum kit and

microphone were positioned in the centre of the stage and at the front were a line of large

boxes with wires plugged into them leading to the guitarist’s microphone stands.

The lighting around the lounge dimmed and the audience applauded as the compare,

wearing a black dinner suit with bow tie, stepped onto the stage and stood in the spotlight.

After welcoming us all to the show he introduced the first act, a comedian who had Harry

clutching his sides with laughter, which was contagious. I started laughing too although

I didn’t actually understand the joke about a chap named MacMillan. He received a

rapturous cheer as he left the stage and a group of dancers with tall feathers in their hair

took up their positions on the floor markers.

The dance troupe performed sequences to music I recognised from the tea dances back

home, which I had attended under great duress with my Grandma, Nan Ida, and Granddad,

Ernie. But the dancers now on stage wore dresses edged with colourful feathers swaying as

their skirts moved to the beat of the band. I marvelled at their ability to bend and balance

for what seemed like ages without wobbling. I decided that I would later practice standing

on one leg while stretching out the other, maybe even compete with Johan to see who

could stay still the longest.

The closing act was equally wonderful. A drum roll preceded a beautiful lady as she slinked

her way onto the stage to loud wolf whistles from the men in the audience. Ingrid shuffleduncomfortably in her seat, unsure at this moment what kind of act we were to be treated

to. From her tiny body she produced the most beautiful clear yet powerful voice. She sang

for nearly a whole hour and some of the audience joined in. I wished they hadn’t as I just

wanted to listen to, and gaze at, her.

It was this first show that sparked my love for the theatre and performing arts which would

remain with me always. Exhausted from the events of the day and a very late night, I slept

like a log.

In the morning I took a shower which was a new experience for me as I’d never actually

seen one before, so much better than the tin bath in the kitchen in Poplar, or back home

and the cast iron bath I had to share with my sisters that had a short shower attachment

for hair washing. I’m not sure which method of washing I preferred but showering was

definitely much quicker.

For breakfast, or smorgasbord, I ordered smoked salmon and prawns with scrambled eggs.

My mum would have loved it. She only bought prawns on very special occasions and I had

never tasted smoked salmon before. I quite liked the salmon but I was secretly missing my

usual bowl of cornflakes.

Johan and I chose to spend the morning in the library, as neither ladies keep fit nor a

lecture on car tyre treads appealed much to us. We sat in the same comfy seats as before

with a pile of maps and an atlas in front of us, trying to work out our route to Gothenburg

and also research what we were likely to see on the way.

Totally engrossed in books we missed lunch, but met up with Ingrid and Harry for

afternoon tea which to me was very special. There were dainty sandwiches but huge slices

of cake, I was quite content with that ratio. We sat close to the dance floor where couples

mainly danced the Foxtrot, quickstep and waltz to the band. The singer from the previous

night’s performance was mingling with guests and she even came over to our table. She

didn’t act like a famous star, she was very normal, a bit like my aunty Shirly, easy to talk to

and didn’t seem to mind answering my many questions.

During her opening of the show that evening the singer winked at Harry, I felt the table

shudder as Ingrid’s kick to his shin landed like a goal scoring strike from Stanley Matthews.

The jaw dropping musical act was followed by a ventriloquist with a puppet, worse for

wear from drink, who kept dropping his monocle. I thought the strange double-act was

brilliant; perhaps they would be famous one day and then I could gloat to my friends at

school for being present at their debut.

The dance troupe closed the show, but this time they sang and danced to the tunes from

West Side Story. I knew all the songs as my mum always turned up the radio while she did

the ironing at home and sang along, quite well actually. Perhaps a bit of her would rub off

on me and one day, oh how I hoped, I too would appear under the bright lights of the stage.I so longed to just lay in bed for bit longer but a hearty bang on the door from Harry,

followed by a loud shout of ‘shake a leg!’ Encouraged me to slide one foot onto the floor,

then lazily drag the other down to join it. I sleepily trudged over to the bathroom and

splashed a bit of water over my face. That would do for a wash, and anyway what’s the point

of cleaning teeth, aged seven they looked white enough to me.

A quick rush around the cabin to find, gather and shove all my belongings into my case

and I was ready to disembark. A porter collected my case and loaded it on top of a pile of

other bags on his trolley, my label firmly attached to the handle as instructed by my dad,

not that I was feeling even a tiny bit homesick of course.

We went and had breakfast in the self service cafe before we disembarked the ship, passing

through customs to get my passport stamped I felt like a potential escaping convict,

although I knew I was just a kid on holiday. The officer glared sternly at me, then at my

photo, he stamped my passport with a meaningful thud and I was then able to breath a

sigh of relief. I hadn’t been handcuffed or taken away for questioning, or even tortured as

shown at the kids’ Saturday morning pictures at my local Odeon.

Outside the terminal we were met by Johan’s grandfather, Olaf. I guessed he was in his

early fifties, blonde, muscular and bearded like a Viking. He greeted us in enthusiastic bear

hug style and escorted us to his car which was a Volvo, a car I’d only dreamed of riding in.

Having impressed him with my Swedish greeting he assumed I knew more Swedish than I

did and reverted to his native tongue, encouraging the rest of his family to do the same for

the duration of our stay. Lesson learnt not to be so cocky with foreign grown ups.

It took about one and a half hours to drive on the wrong side of the road the fifty miles from

Gothenburg to Ellios. As we passed the industrial areas and then smaller towns leading to

vast expanses of flat farmland and pine forests, I ticked off the names of the places from the

list compiled in the library the day before. Slightly disappointingly Sweden looked much

the same as home except for the houses. Some had the appearance of oversized wooden

beach huts with shutters ajar and the exterior wooden walls neatly painted. Although no

two houses looked exactly alike, dark red seemed to be the most popular choice of colour.

Those in the car who had nodded off somehow knew we were getting closer to our

destination. Contagious yawns circulated and an air of excitement was back amongst us as

we approached Ingrid’s former childhood home. Waiting at the front door with arms wide

open was Johan’s grandmother, Greta. Her smiling face beamed and her piercing blue eyes

lit up as she hugged her family. I was not excluded from having my rib cage crushed and

hair ruffled. I warmed to her straight away. The house was beautiful, typical Swedish built

of wood and painted red on the outside.

Johan and I shared a bedroom at the back of the house overlooking the garden. This had

once been Ingrid’s room and there was still an old wooden chest in the corner containingsome of her favourite toys neatly packed away and in pristine condition. Dolls not really

being my thing coupled with not wanting to break anything that may be considered

precious I decided not to touch anything. The rest of the day was spent eating and catching

up with news of the extended family seated around a large, sturdy, wooden table.

Johan’s grandmother was a beautiful woman I guess in her early fifties, blonde, piercing

blue eyes and a warming cheeky smile, she was a wonderful cook and had a real soft spot

for me, I spent sometime chatting with her about how Johan and I were born on the same

day and about our lives in England, what it was like in Poplar and how different it was in

Hitchin, how Johan and I did boxing but couldn’t find anywhere to do it now, but we now

play rugby at the club in the under eights team.

I went on to explain how the game was played and showed her our ball we brought with

us, she said that she haven’d seen rugby played, I asked if they had a playing field we could

throw the ball about, she said that there was the ice hockey pitch that had thawed and all

the ice had gone, it was now a football pitch for the summer, perhaps you could play there.

Ellös is a small town near the coast and has two harbors on for the fishermen and the other

for the Hallberg factory. There was a small high street with a few shops, behind the house

there was a hill with a wood half way up that we could play in, it also had a good view over

the town and across to some islands in the fjord. Most of the houses were painted red or

white and made of wood.

The next day, Olaf took us on a tour of the factory where he worked. He was a master

shipbuilder employed at the Hallberg factory. This boatyard was fairly new but already had

a good reputation for building top class sailing boats. The first shed we entered housed all

the moulds for the hulls and a few people were making them, there was a very strong smell

of chemicals in there, we were lucky that they showed us how they took a finished hull out

of the mould ready to move into the next shed.

Olaf next led us into the main shed where there were four boats in different stages of

being built, there was one space for the hull that was being moved from the other shed. He

explained that this is where they build the inside of the boats, the back half of the shed is

where they make the interias, cutting out everything from wood, it was fascinating.

Erik then showed us the sail loft where they made the sails for all the boats, they had large

sewing machines and the person operating them was sat under the floor area, there was

another person that was cutting out the different panels to be sewn together.

Lars took us into another shed and showed us how they made the masts and attached all

the bits needed, he told us that they use a machine to make all the rigging, this machine

crushed pieces of metal around the wires holding them together. We finished off in the

stores where they kept everything needed to make a boat.Olaf pulled a few strings and arranged for Erik to take us for a test sail on one of their latest

models, the Misil 1. This twenty-four feet in length sail boat had been designed for the

private leisure market and was considered to be very fast. It was an amazing experience

and we were still only day three of our holiday.

When Olaf left for work early the next morning Harry went with him, as Harry had been

offered some casual work in the same boatyard, while the rest of us could just relax and

have fun for the duration of the summer.

Johan and I had the very best time, every day we would go off with his cousins in the local

area to their favourite swimming hole, playing field, woods up the hill behind the house

or beaches, the weather was glorious that holiday. Johan’s cousins were his mother’s sisters

children, there was Vinka who was born on the same day as Johan and I, she was very cute

with blonde hair, blue eyes and a cheeky smile just like her grandmothers, then Ronnie tall

for his age, blond and blue eyed who was nine years old, then Petra who also blond, blue

eyed and the youngest aged four the same as Amanda.

Then there was Marlin who had been born on the same day as Johan and I and was Vinka’s

best friend who also had blue eyes but dark hair like mine and a cheeky smile. She lived in

the house next door and had grown up together and were like Johan and I the very best of

friends, we all got on so very well and spent every day together. Then there was Sven who

was the son of Stefan who was married to Torva, he was the same age as Petra.

Stefan was Ingrid’s older brother who had his own business in the mountains north east

from Ellios, so we only saw Sven a couple of times during the holiday when they came to

visit for Sunday lunch.

Water sports were very popular with the people of Ellios. Most families seemed to own

small boats and spend every opportunity either on the water sailing or, in the water

swimming. That was fine by me. The weather was perfect all summer. Every day Johan and

I went with his cousins to the beach, playing fields or woods within walking distance of the

house. We carried picnic food with us and were gone from dawn until dusk. Johan and I

had taken our size three rugby ball with us so we could practice ready for the new season,

eventually we had loads of kids playing with us, it was great fun.

Every so often we spotted Ingrid, her sister Anna or Silvi, checking up on us, but mostly

we were left alone to build woodland camps, or play along the shoreline, we spent a lot of

time at the playing field showing the other kids how to throw a rugby ball and about how

to play. The local children met together and played all day long and their parents would

take turns to be on watch.

Vinka, was definitely the best swimmer of all the kids. Petra aged four, was very cute and

not at all annoying like mine. Ronnie, excelled at handling the wooden dinghy. He had been

sailing and rowing boats all of his young life and was allowed to take us out on the sea, butonly within the area marked with yellow leisure buoys. After some instruction I soon got

the hang of tacking and jibing upon his command. In true ‘Swallows and Amazons’ style

most of our games featured pirates in search of treasure or seeking out opposing tribes.

Marlin, Vinka’s best friend at school, was treated as a member of the family and we all got

along very well. More often than not Marlin came back to the house and shared our evening

meal, she sometimes slept overnight in a sleeping bag on Vinka’s bedroom floor. Johan and

I tried listening through a glass tumbler placed against the wall to hear what they were

talking about, but that trick didn’t work in our favour. Johan dropped the tumbler and it

smashed leaving a trail of glass splinters. He was not naturally destined to make a good spy.

We agreed it would be easier to communicate openly with the girls by way of two tin

cans threaded onto a long length of string. One tin held by the boys and the other passed

through our window and into the girls’ room for them to use. Speaking into the tins we

could carry on talking together late into the night without the knowledge of the adults, or

so we thought.

I had started keeping a diary but gave up after just a few days because every day soon

became similar to the one before. My entries read ‘Got up. Got washed. Got dressed. Got

fed. Met up with the local kids and headed for the beach.’ Each day was exciting and I was

far too busy rushing around with my new found friends to sit still and write anything of

length in my journal. Marlin, Johan, Vinka and I had so much fun that six weeks. Vinka

said to me one day that she was looking forward to meeting me as Johan had talked about

me all the time in all his previous holidays. They were very happy days.

One morning Greta took Johan and I down to the harbour to buy some fish for our dinner,

the fishing boats were just coming in and were unloading their catch, there was salmon

and prawns, there was also crab and lobster but we didn’t get any of those. Greta explained

that the salmon was wild Atlantic salmon which was better than the farmed salmon you

see in the shops. When we got home Greta then showed us how to peel the prawns after

she had cooked them, while we were doing that she told us how she prepared the salmon

for our tea.

On Tuesday and Thursday evenings we went with Vinka and Marlin to their Aikido class,

they had been doing it since they were three years old, they were very good and had great

fun throwing Johan and me all over the place, the instructor had to stop them, thankfully,

I think they were enjoying it far too much, our boxing training didn’t help us either.

Basically Aikido is a form of Japanese marshal art which involves armed and unarmed

full contact combat but mainly is a defensive art using the attackers momentum against

themselves. It also involves flexibility, meditation techniques, primarily throws and joint

locks, breathing control, relaxation and using Japanese terms for the different moves.

Johan and I were shown the very basics of being able to fall properly without hurtingourselves, Vinka and Marlin using us as practice bags, the following day Johan and I were

stiff as boards, we took it easy that day. We thought about taking it up when we returned

home, unfortunately there wasn’t a group anywhere near us, so we couldn’t, the same as

there wasn’t anywhere to do boxing.

I found myself talking alone with Vinka, we chatted about our lives, about what it was like

when Johan came here while I was left back in England, what I did, I told her how much I

missed him and that I had to look after my sister, I said how annoying she was and was an

attention seeker. I told her what our life was like before we moved to Hitchin and what our

building was like, how things were very tough. I told her how different our schools were

from Poplar to Hitchin.

The school in Poplar was an old Victorian building which had suffered during the blitz and

the kids were tough, lots didn’t have shoes and wore rags, it was a very poor area, when

we moved to Hitchin the school couldn’t have been more different, it was fairly new with

warm clean bright classrooms, the kids were different as well, they all had shoes and clean

clothes. I told her that even though we didn’t have a boxing club we did have the rugby club

which was just at the bottom of our garden.

We talked how amazing that our birthdays fell on the same day, she said it would be great

if I could come with Johan this year and have our birthday all together, of course Johan had

been every year, he had told me about the lodge and what fun it was.

I asked her about Marlin and what they did at school, she told me they spent most of

their waking hours together, they had other friends in their class but no one came close to

Marlin, much like Johan and I. She told me how much Marlin and her enjoyed their Aikido

classes so much. They loved skiing to school in the winter and the Wednesday races, they

were lucky they could swim all year round at the indoor pool.

While we talked for hours she would help me with some of my pronunciation, never

condesending but very helpful and patient, she said that my Swedish was better than her

English, I said would she like me to help with her English, she said not for now but she

asked if we could wright to each other, I said what a good idea.

Johan spent this time with Marlin while I was talking with Vinka he would chat away with

her, later I found out that we had similar conversations about the same things. Over that

first six weeks we spent in Sweden my Swedish improved massively, I had so much help,

even Harry said how much I had improved, I think he understood a lot more than he let

on, all the local kids were also helpful when I spoke with them.

The time seemed to just fly by, but then came the dreaded day when we had to say goodbye.

I tried hard to control the lump in my throat and hold back the salty tears lurking in the

back of my eye sockets. I almost broke when Greta and Olaf said how well behaved I had

been and hoped that they would see me again, and because I had been no bother at all Iwas invited back again for Christmas and to go skiing and stop in their lodge in the woods

not far away. I couldn’t be seen as a ‘wuss’ and start blabbing, so chose an over acted stiff

upper lip method of departure.

With suitcases packed into Olaf ’s Volvo we commenced the journey back to Gothenburg

where the ferry would be waiting to take us back to Harwich. We appeared to have

accumulated even more luggage to take home than we had started out with. One of the

cases wedged in the rear foot well was just the right height for a handy foot rest. I later

overheard Olaf saying he had placed it there to prevent my legs from swinging and kicking

the back of his driving seat as he tried to concentrate on where he was going. Johan also

had one in the foot well on his side of the car; Olaf had doubled up on his cunning plan.

Although the route by road was the same as previously taken it was still exciting to watch

the countryside through the windows. As we neared the docks the traffic built up and we

joined a long queue to the check-in kiosks. Once through the first check point we had to

pull into the car park, unload our bags onto a trolley and bid Olaf farewell. When he held

out his hand for me to shake it he placed a Swedish Crown coin into my palm, giving clear

instructions to spend it all on chocolate while on board. He told me to say that sweets

prevented sea sickness if any grown ups disapproved of how I spent my pocket money. I

didn’t believe him but who was I to argue, I gave him a big hug and thanked him.

We were on the same ship on our return to England so it was the same routine we would

spend our days in the library, then dress for dinner in the evening then off to the show.

We found our cabins on the same deck as the outward bound journey, but on the return

leg our cabins were on the starboard side and situated further towards the bow. We had

no need to rush and explore the ship this time as we remembered the layout and headed

straight to the upper deck and outside to watch the busy dockside activities.

Various tannoy announcements were made from the bridge, followed by an almighty great

blast from the ship’s horn signalling that our ship was about to leave its mooring. I watched

Sweden disappear from view and again felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. All along the

industrial areas of Gothenburg tall cranes lifted huge containers from lorries onto waiting

cargo ships. The forklift trucks darted back and forth as they had on our outward journey.

I wondered if they ever switched their engines off, or did the drivers just change shifts and

the machinery continuously work day and night.

Evening dinner was as wonderful as it had been on the previous voyage with its many

courses of amazing, new to me, menu choices. We shared a table with another family who

were impressed by my ability to switch so easily between English and Swedish, this has

now become second nature to me and my pronunciation had improved over the summer

as we only spoke Swedish.

We again met the beautiful singer who was a regular performer on that ship’s route between

Gothenburg and Harwich, she even remembered us. Ingrid also had a good memory andsat close to Harry during the song and dance routines, glaring at him with meaningful

stares from time to time while he nervously chuckled under his breath. We were again

joined by the singer after the show on the first evening while we took coco in the bar were

we told her all about our adventures while on holiday in Sweden, she listened intently and

said we were very lucky.

The following morning Johan and I again headed to the library, as this was one of the few

places that didn’t have a ‘children must be accompanied at all times’ notice on the door.

We found a section on signalling and a teach yourself books on morse code. Tapping the

alphabet on the highly polished table was great fun, and as we were the only people in the

library we practiced our newly found hobby for most of the day, only breaking for trips to

the restaurant when pangs of hunger struck. By the end of the day we had mastered the

whole of the alphabet, although not having a stopwatch we weren’t entirely sure that our

dot and dash timings were correct. How much we would remember when we got home

was yet to be seen.

When we arrived at Harwich there was a queue for people needing luggage trolleys, so we

had to wait our turn. Eventually our cases were piled high and secured with a strap, Harry

then led the way wheeling the heavy load over to the railway station. Luckily there was an

empty carriage so we could all be seated together for the duration of the journey back into

London Liverpool Street then the underground back to Kings Cross finally the steam train

back to Hitchin.

I dragged dad’s old Army demob brown suitcase, which was immaculately looked after and

undamaged, suitcase through the front door, then put down my back pack and flung my

arms around my mum. I suppose I had missed my real family, just a little bit.

I had been looking forward to my favourite meal of Spam fritters, peas and creamy mashed

potatoes drenched in thickened gravy with no lumps, served on the familiar green crockery

that was waiting for me. Yes, it felt good to be home.

I recalled tales of my adventures in Sweden to my family and in equal measure I listened to

their accounts of Peacehaven in East Sussex, where they had enjoyed a holiday staying with

my grandfather at his farm, close to the sea. How they spent time at the Lido in Saltdean

and on the beach at Newhaven with our cousins who lived there.

The clock on the shelf above the fire place struck nine and my sisters’ eye lids were already

closed as mum carried the girls up to bed. This was normally dad’s role but he had gone out

for cigarettes. The local shop must had been shut as he had been gone for ages. Yawning,

but trying hard not to give in to tiredness, my younger brother Tim and I also headed

up the stairs to the room we shared. Back in my own bed with its yellow candle wick

counterpane and bald area where I had plucked out the threads, I sank into a deep sleep.

The summer holidays were over and a new school year commenced. I had graduated to theJunior School in the building next to the Infant School, where Tim remained. Retaining

the same coloured tie, but now wearing a dark navy blue jumper rather than the lighter

shade of blue of the infants, I felt momentarily quite superior. The Junior school badge was

in the shape of a gold shield whereas my previous badge had been silver.

My sisters were both old enough for nursery and had perfected a daily ritual of wailing and

protesting just before leaving the house. Tim had the foresight to smear Vaseline on the

last bannister of the stairs so Amanda and Tracey would lose their grip and have nothing

to cling on to, other than mum’s hands as she dragged them out of the door kicking and

screaming. Thank goodness I didn’t have to be seen walking with them in front of my

peers.

Johan and I always left home early and waited on the corner of our road where we would

meet with other kids from our class. We gathered other friends along the route and were

always the first to arrive. Tim was never ready in time to walk with us and was usually late

to class, apparently he liked the colour red and enjoyed collecting crosses against his name

in the register, or so he told me.

I entered the unfamiliar gates and chose to stand in the safety of a quiet corner of the

playground close to the main entrance door. I tried to work out the unwritten rules of the

playground, rather than the official school code of conduct, and watched to see who to

steer clear of. I decided the much larger boys fighting in an area furthest away from view

of the staff room window were prime candidates to avoid on my first day.

I had visited the Junior school only once at the end of the previous term, but was already

confused over where my class should be waiting when the bell rang. I had remembered

the meeting point was near a line of benches, but these had been moved away from the

classroom wall and positioned against the wire tennis court fence. The children new to the

Junior school followed each other like a herd of sheep, all equally unsure of where to stand.

The anxious faces belonged to friends from my previous class but we had all now reverted

to being the smallest fishes in the pond.

Mr Forbes, with a whistle hanging from a lanyard around his neck, strode across the

playground towards his new group of pupils. He lined us up in register order then led us

through the east wing corridor to our classroom on the ground floor. The wooden desks

with flip top lids were in four straight lines of six desks per row. Johan and I raced to the

front and managed to secure two desks next to each other. Stowing my satchel inside the

desk, but first removing my pencil box, I eagerly faced the board.

The teacher wrote our timetable for the day on the chalk board. Whenever he looped a letter

he made the dry stub of chalk produce a piercing squeak, that set my teeth tingling and the

whole class wincing. Today we were to start with mathematics which received an almost

unanimous groan. I gave Johan a thumbs up as maths was one of our favourite subjects.

The loudest culprit, sitting in the back row, received a clout from the large wooden chalkboard wiper as it was hurled over the heads of the class and landed accurately on the left

hand of its target, leaving a red mark as a reminder to keep the noise down.

We had all the normal subjects at school English, Maths, History, Geography, Science,

Music, Dancing, PE and German taught by Mr Forbes, with Johan and I now being

bilingual we found German very easy to pick up and as time went on we left most of the

class well behind in it.

Just before morning break luke-warm, quarter-pint, glass bottles of milk with plastic straws

were handed out to each pupil from the large, square crate, which had been standing in

the corner of the classroom for hours. Only one girl was excused drinking it because of her

allergy to dairy, lucky her. Had the milk been stored in a refrigerator it would have been

more bearable, but this slightly curdled mixture of off-white vomit smelling substance

was my nemesis, I loathed the stuff. I didn’t care that it was packed with protein, calcium,

vitamins A, B and D, or that it would help my bones and muscles to grow stronger. I was

happy to wait for growth to happen naturally, or at least wait for the colder winter months

when the milk was less likely to go sour.

School dinners were a different kettle of fish, Ingrid had told us that the school had a policy

of providing a well balanced lunch that would help build a healthy body, she instilled in us

not to waist food, this always stood us in good stead. Most kids hated our school dinners,

Johan and I loved them.

During the afternoon each member of the class eagerly awaited their turn to stand at

the front by the teacher’s desk and recall one event from the recent summer break. Some

people had enjoyed picnics in the park, others had taken day trips to the coast, but no one

other than Johan and I had been abroad that summer, not even Mr Forbes.

When my turn finally came I beckoned Johan to join me at the front and we stood together

speaking in Swedish, which had improved a lot over the summer, much to the amazement

of our teacher, followed by playful boos from our friends who felt we were showing off, but

afterwards admitted they were in awe of us. Wisely Mr Forbes had set a time limit of three

minutes per student as we could have continued talking way beyond the end of the school

day. I hoped that during the following day’s handwriting lesson that there would be plenty

of extra lined paper handy for me to write my ‘News’ as I had plenty to record.

Back home at the end of the day I told my dad the name of my new teacher. Dad had

already heard of Mr Forbes as he was very well respected in the community, having been

taken prisoner in Germany towards the end of the Second World War. Dad advised me not

to ask Mr Forbes questions about the war unless he invited me to do so, as he, like many of

his generation had witnessed horrific scenes which he may not wish to discuss, especially

with a young child. I reluctantly agreed to heed dad’s warning for the time being.

Dad knew that Mr Forbes had been held at Stalag Luft 3, where two famous escapes hadbeen carried out. One of the escapes was detailed in a book entitled ‘The Wooden Horse’.

This attempt had involved many prisoners painstakingly digging an escape tunnel leading

under the camp wire and into the surrounding forest. A wooden vaulting horse had been

positioned over the digging area creating a diversion from onlooking guards, whilst

overground no shortage of volunteers practiced their gymnastic leaps over the vault. The

brave men also had the job of getting rid of the surplus earth undetected. Three Officers

got out and reached the safety of Sweden.

Another famous escape was from Stalag Luft 3 and this was featured in the book ‘The

Great Escape’. The book detailed the true story of how three tunnels, named Tom, Dick

and Harry were dug, two of which were discovered by the guards. However seventy six

prisoners managed to escape through the remaining tunnel, but only three to safety.

Seventy three men were recaptured, of which fifty were shot by the Gestapo.

Johan and I longed to borrow those books from the town centre library, but they were only

available from the adults section so we had to wait until the weekend for a grown up to

accompany us. With our library cards firmly in hand we selected two copies of each title so

we could read independently but still discuss each chapter, we tended to read at the same

pace. The librarian looked surprised at our choices and stamped the ‘due for return’ dates

on the slips of paper attached inside the front covers.

Reading late into the night by torch light seemed to add to the suspense of the story. The

paperback books had very small print and hundreds of pages, none with colourful pictures,

but we were captivated by the tales of escape and evasion and reluctant to put the books

down when we had to give in the sleep. By the time the ‘due back date’ was reached we had

read each of the books from cover to cover and I was half way through The Great Escape

for the second time.

When we returned the books to the library the lady behind the desk didn’t believe that

such young boys were able to read so well, we were questioned on the content. Confidently

we were able to recount every event in the books and even show her in an Atlas where the

escapees had fled to. I mentioned that I had placed pins onto the large map of the world

poster stuck to the wall beside my bed, even plotted the escape routes as best I could with

the information available to me. The librarian was delighted and not wanting to deter our

enthusiasm for learning, re-stamped the books extending the due for return date by a

further five weeks. We walked home beaming from ear to ear.

I didn’t always have my nose in a book, I also liked playing sports. As soon as the rugby

season started I joined the under nine’s team at the club who conveniently met on the other

side of my garden fence. We trained every Sunday morning and sometimes played touch

rugby against other teams from neighbouring clubs.

As I grew in age and stature so did my love for rugby. Not surprisingly the gaps in the

wooden fence at the end of my garden also increased in size, especially on Saturday matchdays when I removed a whole panel and watched the adult’s ‘A Team’ from the luxury of a

garden deckchair perfectly positioned not to miss any of the action.

In Junior school rugby wasn’t encouraged. When PE was outdoors it was usually football

skills that were practiced. During lunch break Johan and I, with the boys we met on the

street corner each day, chose to throw a rugby ball to each other rather than kick the

spherical version of a ball around the field. I never took to football. They put me in goal

then I stopped a ball with my face, that put me off football for life.

The autumn term sped by and it was soon time to prepare for Christmas when all lessons

seemed to involve cotton wool balls, runny white glue, small tubes of glitter and angel

shaped stencils. I never mastered using the school’s red or blue handled round ended

scissors and much preferred the large black handled sharp ones back home. Goodness

knows how anyone cut anything with the green and yellow handled ones, but years later I

learned they were for left handed users so no wonder I had trouble.

The white glue poured into pots by the teacher took ages to dry, but if glue was poured

straight from the big container before being watered down and then mixed with powdered

paint it could be rolled into rubber balls and was great for flicking, it also bounced well and

could be re-used numerous times. I always had a pocket full of ammunition in my pocket

collecting fluff.

My least favourite lesson however was Music, not that I didn’t enjoy listening to the radio,

I just wasn’t keen on hearing girls squeaky singing. It also felt like torture to have to sit still

for ages in the assembly hall and rehearse for the end of term carol concert. I thought by

learning to play the descant recorder I might be excused from singing, but that plan badly

backfired because there was a requirement to rehearse after school, thus prolonging the

agony.

Knowing only five notes the school orchestra’s repertoire of carols was limited. Enthusiasm

overtook talent and the players blowing too hard to add emphasis to the music were sadly

mistaken. All we achieved was badly timed squeaks with endings tailing off as we ran out

of breath, leaving the singers stranded and unaccompanied.

The concert ended with a series of tableaux depicting scenes from the nativity, one scene

performed by each class. Apparently the angel Gabriel was male. I nearly dislocated my

fingers by crossing them so hard and hoping that I wouldn’t get picked. It was equally

painful splitting my sides with laughter when Johan got the part. To make matters worse for

him he was in the opening scene and had to stay at the front of the stage in his beautifully

draped white frock and delicate tissue paper wings, for the entire show. My own role was

unfortunately only slightly better.

I was put in charge of holding an overly large handful of hay while standing next to a

cardboard cut out of a donkey. It was all going well until I noticed the girl standing closeto me with a bowl of corn, supposedly to feed pictures of chickens, going red in the face

and her eyes swelling. With the absence of antihistamine tablets to relieve her hay fever

symptoms I decided to move away from her to the back end of the donkey. From the

audience’s view I’m not sure what it looked like but I certainly wasn’t feeding it from the

tail end.

A girl in the year above narrated the scene of ‘Marwee widing the little donkey along

the wough wode’, but she smiled so beautifully throughout and it was a courageous effort

by her. The final tableaux involved the whole school crowding around the manger in the

tightly packed stable. The bright star shining in the night sky was played by an older girl

with a small amount of ballet experience. For some strange unrehearsed reason she chose

to dance her way into position, twirling on the spot and with eyes rolling in her head she

plummeted to the ground in an undignified heap.

The parents must have enjoyed the concert as they were all smiling, some were so emotional

they had tears streaming down their faces, or maybe there was dust from somewhere

getting in their eyes, it was difficult to tell with grown ups.

Good fortune reverted back in my favour as one morning I spotted the postman before my

brother and actually beat Tim to the doormat to pick up the mail. Sorting through the pile

of letters I noticed one of the envelopes had an unusual postage stamp in the right hand

corner. The stamp was Swedish and the letter was addressed to my parents. I rushed into

the kitchen and thrust the letter into my mum’s hands. I tried to look over her shoulder as

she slit open the envelope and teasingly took ages to unfold the note paper. After reading

the letter all she said was ‘I think I’ll need to discuss this with your father’ and tucked

it back inside the envelope. What did the letter say and what needed to be discussed? I

was given no clues and the suspense was killing me. Dad wasn’t due home until later that

evening and I doubted that I could hold out for that long.

I went next door to Johan’s house and rapped hard on the brass door knocker. The door

swung open and Johan greeted me with a knowing look which I found infuriating. He

told me that he had been sworn to secrecy until my parents had agreed. Agreed what? The

suspense got the better of me and I jokingly took him in an arm lock forcing him to impart

the much sort after information. He was laughing so much he couldn’t clearly reply and all

I heard was the word ‘Christmas’. Ingrid intervened and told us both that it would be in our

best interest to behave and await the decision. What decision?

The day dragged by until finally I heard the sound of dad’s car approaching, he parked in

his usual place by the lamppost outside the house and switched off the engine. However

I didn’t hear the garden gate open or his footsteps. Instead I saw him walk back along the

road towards the corner shop. He was probably out of cigarettes again, the wait was by now

unbearable.

When dad eventually arrived home my sisters of course flung their arms around his neckand demanded all his attention. I felt their actions were a deliberate act against me and so

went upstairs in search of Tim, who was always willing to take part in a getting our own

back mission against the girls. What would it be this time, Barbie lower limb dissection or

a Cindy doll haircut with blunt scissors. Luckily for my sisters, mum diverted our attention

by calling us down for dinner. I saw her pass the letter to dad and decided the best course

of action was to keep quiet and await his verdict.

Dad smiled, punched me gently on the shoulder and said, ‘so you’re off to Sweden for

Christmas son’. I couldn’t contain my excitement. I leapt around the room and even

attempted a badly executed cartwheel within the constraints of the lounge. I swung my

brother around until both his feet left the floor and his slippers flew off his feet narrowly

missing the vase of flowers on the coffee table. I then raced over to the house next door to

convey the good news.

Ingrid and Harry told me that they would need to discuss the trip with my parents in

greater detail. In the meantime all they were prepared to say was that I had been invited

by Johan’s grandparents, Greta and Olaf, to spend Christmas with them at their winter

retreat north east of Ellios. Ingrid’s family owned a log cabin close to the ski slopes where

extended family members and friends congregated each year in order to take advantage of

the excellent skiing conditions. I knew right then that Christmas was going to be awesome.

Dad had been promoted at work and although earning a good wage he requested overtime

shifts to help pay for my forthcoming trip. I felt a bit guilty about going abroad twice in the

same year, but my brother and sisters were easily appeased with the promise of a trip to

the cinema, followed by a meal at the Berkeley Steak House where they could eat scampi

served in a fried potato basket.

Mum told me that Father Christmas had contacted her to ask if it would be alright to

deliver my presents earlier than 25th December. Santa had received a communication via

the elves that I would be at an undisclosed address half way up a mountain when his

sleigh was due to fly over the mountains. Mum started to elaborate and attempted a poor

explanation of how the altitude adversely affected the reindeer, but I told her that it was

OK, the younger children were out of earshot. The deflated look on her face said it all.

Lesson learnt, don’t let on to grown ups how much you know. Keep some facts back as they

enjoy Christmas as much as their kids, especially mothers.

The day I had been waiting for finally arrived. Not only was it my birthday but it was also

the first day of the school Christmas holidays. I raced downstairs sliding down the straight

section of the banister rail and landed spectacularly at the bottom.

A stack of presents lay in wait for me on the dining room table, some wrapped in brightly

coloured birthday paper with balloons attached and others in traditional red and green

with Christmas streamers. I chose the two smallest gifts to unwrap first in the obvious

shape of books. To my absolute delight I was holding my very own copies of The WoodenHorse and The Great Escape. What a brilliant start to the day. I must have savoured the

moment for too long because by the time I returned to the pile of gifts my sisters had

already ripped off the paper from the largest box and chucked the torn pieces on the floor

by my feet. Trust them to spoil what should have been my special moment, anyone would

think it was their birthdays we were celebrating.

Tim noticed my look of disappointment and offered to sneak upstairs and collect their

Barbie and Cindy dolls for a sacrificial toasting under the grill, after all it was fashionable

to have a sun-bed tan, but mum intervened.

The partially opened present revealed a blue suitcase with silver flick up catches and a lock

with two silver keys. My initials S.P.H. Were embossed at the top left hand corner of the

lid. I felt very grown up but remembered to tell my mum that the elves had done a good

job and my presents were perfect.

As if the day couldn’t have got any better, Harry delivered the most amazing news. The travel

agent had contacted Harry to advise that a deal was available on some flights for families

which were a fraction of the normal price. We wouldn’t be travelling to Gothenburg by

ferry after all but would fly that very same day from Luton. Excitement welled up inside

me, I was so happy I was fit to burst but tried to contain myself as I really wanted to live to

see my next birthday as well as this year’s.

I noticed mum had already started to flick through the local newspaper to see if there were

any coupons to cut-out offering deals for a pantomime, or similar bribe, in the hope that a

forthcoming treat would once again pacify my siblings whilst I was away.

My father had for several months taken on extra work with a taxi company. Initially he

was out for just a few evenings and occasionally the odd weekend, but more frequently he

worked all night. However, this morning he walked through the front door and announced

that he was to drive Harry, Ingrid, Johan and myself to the airport in plenty of time to catch

our flight. My father Mick was now running the taxi business so was able to drive us all to

Luton Airport and would pick us up on our return. We were going to fly on Scandinavian

Airlines to Gothenburg and would be picked up by Olaf, Johan’s grandfather in his Volvo

and taken to the lodge in the mountains.

This was the first time I had ever flown, I was so excited, Johan told me all what to expect

where we checked in and gave our suitcases in and had our passports checked. How to find

the information and gate number for our aeroplane. The airport was just as busy as I had

remembered King’s Cross to have been, except the airport was, cleaner and had carpets,

even the seats were covered in fabric and not made of metal like the ones at the station.

We located the departure gate and had half an hour to wait until the tannoy message

announced that our flight to Gothenburg, with Scandinavian Airlines, was ready for

passengers to proceed to the desk. As we were already waiting in that area we were first inthe queue for our boarding passes to be re-checked. I had been practicing in my bedroom

mirror a serious, but not guilty looking, facial expression and this must have worked

because I walked easily through passport control. The escape and evasion stories I loved

had given me lots of useful tips which had paid off.

I had expected to walk across the tarmac and up steps to get onto the plane, but no, the gate

opened to expose a short corridor which led directly onto the waiting Douglas aircraft. The

welcoming stewardesses looked very pretty. I had never seen ladies dressed in such smart

navy blue uniforms before, nor such shiny lipstick. Even their hats were not at all frumpy,

but small and perched neatly on top of their perfectly styled and pinned hair. When Harry

verbally made a similar observation he got a sharp poke in the ribs from Ingrid.

I sat next to the window, Johan was next to me with Ingrid on his other side. There were

three seats in each row, Harry’s ticket was for the window seat directly behind mine.

The seats were large and made of slippery blue leather. My feet couldn’t reach the floor

but I remembered not to kick the seat in front of me, as instructed by Harry. I felt an

overwhelming need to fiddle with the drop down table, check out the arm rests and air

vents, but decided instead to sit on my hands and not give in to temptation.

After a safety demonstration from the stewardesses the aircraft began to taxi over to the

runway where it waited for a short while. Then the noise from the engines increased, the

aircraft started to move forwards, rattled a bit then sped along the runway. I felt myself being

pushed back into my seat as the aircraft roared, tilted, then left the ground and climbed

upwards, high over the airport. My ears popped and my stomach fizzed, I swallowed hard

then slid about a bit in my seat as the plane banked to alter its course and head towards

Sweden.

Far below I saw roads with the lights from the traffic, the now small buildings all appeared

to be the same height from my new perspective. Then we flew over farmland, crossed

winding rivers, straight railways and eventually I saw the feint line of the coast through

patches of cloud. I couldn’t spot any boats on the sea as once over water the clouds soon

completely obscured my view. The plane, now level, carried on flying for a couple of hours

over the carpet of dense white clouds while high above the sun shone. Flying was the most

amazing feeling I had ever experienced. I will never forget that first time flying, and the

excitement for landing in Sweden with its snow covered landscape, my first ever Christmas

in Sweden.

Olaf met us once we had collected our suitcases and had our passports stamped then

loaded the boot of his car with the cases and crammed us, with the remaining bags, into

whatever spaces were left. The drive to the mountains took a little longer than the flight

from Luton all the way over to Sweden. On the plus side I could see more from the window

of the Volvo than I could from the aeroplane that was until the sun went down. As we

neared the mountains Olaf pulled over to the side of the road and fitted snow chains to the

tyres. These rattled as we continued to drive up the winding narrow roads.It was already dark when we arrived at the ‘cabin’ which was more like the size of a small

hotel or lodge. I sleepily left the warmth of the car and stepped out into the freezing cold

evening air. A shovel was propped up against the wall of a shed stacked high with chopped

wood. There was evidence that snow had recently been cleared to form a path leading up

to the front door of the lodge, but even so it was very slippery and feeling a bit like Bambi

I found it difficult to stay upright.

The lodge was very traditional in style with a grass moss roof, large stone fire place, logs

stacked up outside in a shed, the huge stone fireplace in the main lounge, it was so big it

even had seating within the alcove. Numerous settees, armchairs and coffee tables formed

a circle around a rug in the centre of the room. Four doors led directly from the lounge

into double bedrooms where the adults would be staying, a flight of stairs leading to four

more bedrooms above, there were toilets and bathrooms on both floors.

There was an outer hall way where all the outside clothes and ski equipment was kept that

lead into a small hall way where the slippers and inner clothes were kept. Just across from

the back door was a sauna house for want of a better word, basically it was a large shed with

benches either side and a stove at the far end.

There was a second wood burner in the kitchen, which also served as a dining room. Two

long wooden tables, which had at one time been used for shearing sheep, ran almost the

whole length of the kitchen with bench seats and an assortment of cushions on either side.

This area would be the hub of the house.

Two toilets, one bathroom and one shower room, were located under the stairs. On the

way to an outside door was a separate area used for hanging coats and wet clothing. A long

rack attached to a wall held a line of skis, with corresponding boots stored next to each pair

on wire shelves. This side entrance and outdoor clothing area was used more frequently

than the large wooden door at the front of the building.

The hallway closest to the bathroom had normal pegs under which slippers of various sizes

were scattered. I found a pair that fitted me and was glad to wear them because there were

no carpets. The reddish brown flagstone floor tiles felt cold, but the walls were lined in

honey coloured pine giving the appearance of warmth.

Upstairs I found another bathroom. I could actually see my breath and ice was forming

on the small window above the toilet, only desperation would entice me to use it. There

were also two large rooms which looked like the bunk houses I had seen in cowboy films.

Each had a single bed and three sets of bunks, therefore each room having the capacity

to accommodate seven people. Adjoining each room was a further double bedroom. One

of the double rooms would be taken by Marlin’s parents, Silvi and Lars. Myself, Johan and

his cousins would use the bunk-beds. Through the centre of each of the two ‘bunk houses’

rose the flues from the fires downstairs. The bedrooms thankfully were as warm as toast.The smell of cooking wafted up the stairs followed by Greta’s voice calling us down for

dinner. At one end of the table sat Olaf, with Greta at the other end smiling at her family.

Along the sides sat Ingrid and Harry, Johan and myself, Johan’s uncle Stefan who owned

the lodge and his wife Torva their son Sven, Anna and Erik with their children Vinka,

Ronnie and Petra, and Marlin with her parents Silvi and Lars.

I noticed that Vinka and Marlin had brought their birthday cards with them on holiday

which Greta had already displayed on a shelf. I wondered what the chances were of sitting

at the same table with four children sharing the same birthday, but I guessed that kind of

thing happened when mothers befriended themselves at antenatal classes, whatever they

were, we didn’t study those classes at my school.

Greta and her daughters had prepared the most amazing birthday feast for us. We even

had one massive cake that was divided into four sections by icing. Each quarter of the cake

had nine candles which we blew out together. Greta then cut the cake into four, re-lit the

candles and we each blew out the candles again on our own quarter of the cake. A strong

smell of burning matches and candle wax lingered in the air.

It wasn’t long after dinner that the adults took their glasses of wine into the lounge and

the children headed upstairs. We sat together chatting in the girls’ room until way past our

normal bedtimes. At the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs myself, Johan, Sven and

Ronnie shot out of their room and we dived into our beds, just in time for him to find us

laying with our best angelic looks on our faces.

That evening Olaf and Stefan, Johan’s uncle sorted Johan and I out with some skiing

equipment, there were some shoe type boots with a lip on the toe that fitted into a binding

on the ski, I had thick socks and the boots felt comfortable, they also gave me some wind

proof trousers and a top, a hat and some gloves.

The following morning it was minus ten degrees. I looked out of the window and couldn’t

believe my eyes. Across the garden at the back of the house was a wooden hut. There

were several footsteps leading from the house to the hut, nothing odd about that. But

to my mixture of shock, horror, embarrassment and utter intrigue were Johan’s naked

aunts and uncles rolling about in the snow. Apparently this was normal behaviour! Ronnie

enlightened me and said that sauna’s were popular in Sweden, getting naked was just

something people did.

That morning could not have been more perfect, the sun shone the sky was blue and it was

minus ten degrees. Lesson one for me, Stefan took me off to one side and taught me the

basics, we had already waxed the skis the night before, so it was just getting used to moving

with the skis on, this was my first time on Nordic skis, I took to it like a duck to water.

Stefan soon had me walking forwards and sideways, then he showed me how to move a bitfaster and stop with the points of my skis facing each other. Finding this manoeuvre fairly

easy he increased the distance he also took me to practice on a small slope and I loved

skiing. Even falling over was fun. I was very proud of my achievements and began to feel

quite confident until I saw a line of little kids, aged between about three and six years of age

racing along after their parents.

Stefan explained that all the local children learned to ski as soon as they could walk, they

even skied to school every day in the winter. Lightly punching me on the shoulder he told

me that I had listened well to his instructions and that next time we would join the others

with him skiing beside me.

We spent the whole day skiing on the tracks around the lodge, by the afternoon I was

getting very good and skied with all the others to finish the day, Johan’s cousins were with

us as well, Vinka, Ronnie, Petra, Sven and Marlin were excellent skiers, I think they skied

to school everyday. The more time I spent here the better my Swedish was becoming.

When we returned to the lodge that afternoon we all piled into the sauna before rolling in

the snow and going in for a fantastic dinner, we went to bed that night a very happy pair of

nine year old’s. The following day we skied all day again and I was getting better and better,

once again it was back and sauna time.

Skiing along the routes leading through the woods with Johan’s large family was brilliant.

I even managed to stay upright most of the time and although I didn’t move with as much

style as the others in our party, I did at least keep up with the pace set for us by Stefan.

Along the tracks we even saw reindeer, they were about the size of horses but with massive

antlers making them appear much bigger.

As the days passed by my skiing improved and we lengthened our trips accordingly. The

dips and small slopes along the paths became less of a challenge and I felt very much part

of the whole skiing scene. Lots of people waved or stopped to say hello to Stefan, who

seemed to know most of them personally. Ronnie told me that Stefan ran a ski school

from the lodge during the winter and hunting trips in the summer. The family only came

together to use the facilities over Christmas.

I discovered that in Sweden Christmas Eve was called Julafton and this was the main day

for families to celebrate together. We had a visit from Santa, it was a pity Olaf missed it, he

was apparently outside chopping wood at the time. The adults started drinking beer and

wine just before lunchtime and carried on all day. They were hilarious. We all played crazy

games together and just ate all day long. The food tasted incredible and the dishes just kept

coming and coming.

When the family exchanged presents there was even one for me, Johan had exactly the

same shaped gift and we were told to open them at the same time. Unwrapping the paper

in unison, then opening the box lids we gazed at our hand held walkie talkies. Racing aboutthe cabin from room to room, shouting at first but then speaking normally, we played

continuously until Erik suggested we saved the power in the batteries and find something

else to do. We re-boxed our beloved sets knowing they would be very well used back home

for communicating between our houses, no more cans on pieces of string for us.

On Christmas morning we joined the throng of people sking through the village to church.

This particular activity wasn’t my idea of fun but I felt it best to blend in and do the same

as everyone else. The service reminded me of a school assembly which had overrun, except

here the carols weren’t quite so boring. Being sung in Swedish somehow made the songs

more interesting. It was definitely a bonus not to have any descant recorders whistling in

my ears.

The service involved a lot a candles and swinging incense around, I had no idea why.

Sitting still and behaving well must have impressed the adults because afterwards, back in

the lounge, tins of chocolates appeared on the coffee tables and the children were told to

tuck in. We didn’t take any persuading.

The Christmas break in the mountains had been wonderful. The 29th December came

around far too quickly signifying it was time for us to pack our bags and head home again.

Saying goodbye to Johan’s relations was a lengthy process involving shaking hands, ruffling

hair, the slapping of backs and hugging each other.

When I said goodbye to Vinka she burst into tears, I wondered what I had done wrong but

Harry winked and said that it was a good thing. Strange, because if a boy made a girl cry

at school he would have to stand in the corner. I just had to stand next to the car and wait

until the luggage was loaded and a space created for me to squeeze into. Through the rear

window I could see waving hands, I returned their waves with one hand and found myself

wiping my eyes with the other.

The return to Luton was equally amazing as the outgoing flight. I began to feel quite the

seasoned traveller able to locate the boarding gate and have my passport open at the correct

page. My not guilty facial expression was well honed by now and it again got me through

the security area with ease.

Although our boarding tickets showed we had been allocated the same seat numbers as

before, Harry and Ingrid chose to swap places. Johan was happy for me to sit next to the

window, whilst he sat in the middle again and Harry had the aisle seat. Ingrid talked non-

stop with the two ladies directly behind us, I have no idea what about but there conversation

involved much nodding of heads and strange noises leading to outbursts of laughter. Johan

told me that all of his Swedish relations spoke German, so Ingrid was happy to sit with

fellow Germanic passengers and chat with them.

Not long into the flight two stewardesses made their way along the aisle with a trolley

laden with goodies. Johan and I shared a tray of sandwiches and were treated to a bar ofchocolate each, while Harry settled for a cup of coffee. I noticed that three small bottles of

wine were being passed overhead to Ingrid and her companions behind us. Further into

the flight the volume of laughter increased and they then made an attempt at singing. A

chorus of ‘shhh’ followed from passengers in a row within close proximity. Johan’s face

glowed bright red and I was glad that it wasn’t only me who found grownup behaviour, at

times embarrassing.

When we landed at Luton I had hoped that dad would collect us, but a different taxi driver

was there waiting to drive us back to Hitchin. I had been looking forward to see my family

and ran eagerly into the house, only to be met by my squabbling sisters and mum who

was making a lousy job at being a referee. There was no sign of Tim who was out with his

friends. As for dad, well he was just out somewhere.

Every time I tried to speak my sisters would repeat each word in parrot fashion. To them it

was funny but to me it was annoying. Within the first ten minutes of being home I longed

to be back in the lodge with Johan’s family, who were capable of sitting up late into the

evening listening to each other and respectfully allowing each person around the kitchen

table to contribute in the conversation. It was a miserable homecoming.

I carried my case upstairs to unpack. As I opened the bedroom door I was horrified to

find that my room had been ransacked and my world map scribbled over in red crayon.

To make matters worse the graffiti wasn’t even spelt correctly. My cupboards had been

rummaged through and things pulled out and strewn across the floor. There was a note on

Tim’s section of the chest of drawers saying ‘Leave alone or else’ so I guessed the damage

hadn’t been inflicted by him.

With my feelings deflated I grabbed my library card, slammed the door and headed into

town. At least the librarian was pleased to see me and she listened to my adventures. I was

able to talk to her without interruption and she asked intelligent questions which made me

feel above my years.

The librarian helped me to find a beginners guide to speaking German. The book she chose

for me was a pictorial dictionary. There was a page at the front of the book which gave

examples of how letters were pronounced and she kindly sat with me for a few minutes to

practice, we had already started learning German at school and this would help a lot.

I walked slowly taking the long way home. Without bothering to say hello I headed straight

up to my room, jammed a chair under the door knob to prevent my sisters from entering

and waited for Tim to return. He could be gone all day but never miss a meal so I knew he

would be due home shortly. Right on cue at the sound of plates and cutlery being placed

on the table I also heard the familiar thud of Tim’s boots. He always prised his footwear off

then threw them somewhere close to his section of the shoe rack, ricocheting off the wall

they more often than not arrived at their intended destination. His aim was brilliant.At least Tim and I were pleased to see each other. It was good to catch up with my brother

and during dinner he told me that dad had finished at BRS and was working full time with

the taxi firm. Mum elaborated by saying that he had become a partner in the business

which meant he didn’t have set working hours. The conversation was sabotaged by my

sisters who demanded attention, so I put a large chunk of meat on Amanda’s fork for her to

chew on and Tim did the same for Tracey. With their mouths occupied I could at least hear

mum say that dad may not be home for a while. Tim and I helped ourselves to pudding

then took ourselves up to our room, barricaded ourselves in and carried on talking. We

were too young to understand exactly what was going on but we guessed that dad’s absence

wasn’t a good thing.

The next morning I heard Johan’s muffled voice coming from somewhere under my bed.

Before returning the transmission I made Tim give his solemn promise not to tell the girls

that Johan and I had walkie talkies. He was pleased to be in on the secret. I had chosen

to wrap the walkie talkie in an old T-shirt then place the bundle inside my floppy button

up rabbit, which was given to me when I was about three. The rabbit had a flap set into its

back which was suppose to be used for storing pyjamas. The rabbit’s eyes were a bit too far

apart and the stitching on one of its large front teeth was coming apart, which made the

tooth wobble. The rabbit freaked me out at night so I kept it under my bed. It also terrified

my sisters making it ideal for concealment. The downside was that it took a little while to

retrieve the walkie talkie, by which time Johan thought I wasn’t able to reply. I ditched the

T-shirt idea and hid the rabbit, now much thinner, in the fold of the curtain.

Johan came over in person and we planned to spend the day finding where the best reception

spots were in the local vicinity, also test the distances we could best communicate. Tim was

useful to have around and was quite happy to run between us with a large ball of string. We

then measured the length of the string to work out the transmission distances. He rushed

from one to the other of us like a young puppy in training and I wished I had a biscuit to

reward him for his efforts.

After a couple of hours a lad about Tim’s age approached us riding a bicycle, Tim sat

himself on the cross bar and said he would be gone for the rest of the day to do something,

somewhere with his friends. Another couple of boys on bikes joined them and they rode

off together.

I mentioned to Johan that I had been to the library and secured a German picture

dictionary. I was taken aback when he told me that he already knew quite a few German

phrases and that his mum was going to start teaching him German in the new year. Ingrid

had intended to ask me if I wanted to learn too, she had wanted to surprise me at the New

Year’s Eve party which mum was throwing for the neighbours. Johan suggested that when

asked I act as though I knew nothing about it and be terribly excited in front of her.

Mum had spent the whole day cleaning the house from top to bottom and had pushed

back the lounge furniture to make more room. Neither Tim nor I were keen on the jigglingabout kind of dancing, but were glad to hear mum’s records collection being played because

the music drowned out the whining emitted from Amanda and Tracey. They were as usual

rehearsing their acting up routine for later when a crowd of innocent bystanders would

have no choice but to watch them.

When Johan and his parents arrived for the party, Johan joined Tm and I who were sitting

on the stairs contemplating how much better Nan and Granddad’s style of ballroom

dancing looked. We all agreed but of course girl partners were required and so joining in

would be difficult, especially as the only girls available were our sisters. We changed the

topic of conversation to rugby. Amanda and Tracey tried to gate crash our meeting on the

stairs, so I quickly switched from speaking normally to tapping morse code messages to

Tim and Johan using the wooden floor boards at the side of the stairs carpet. This irritated

my sisters no end but gave me great satisfaction.

We discussed the England team and made our recommendations for improvements then

worked our way through to the other teams in the Home Nations Championships. We

agreed that an up and coming new Welsh player, called JPR Williams, looked promising

and also Gareth Edwards would be one to watch. Closer to home Tim would soon be

old enough to join the under 8’s section at the local club. Johan and I promised to take

him along with us and introduce him to the team coach when the rugby training sessions

reconvened, Tim was over the moon with this prospect. If his aim at a ball was as good as

his shoe throwing skills he could be useful to a team.

The three of us only shifted position to join in with the count down to midnight. A cork

popped, glasses overflowed and the adults hugged and kissed each other. We three boys

managed to dodge all pouting and escaped without a trace of lipstick on our faces, unlike

Harry who revelled in the antics.

Johan borrowed my sleeping bag and slept on the bedroom floor while the party continued

downstairs into the early hours. I was a bit disappointed to wake and find that 1st January

was much the same as any other day, except everyone slept in for a bit longer and most of

the adults we saw looked as though they were having trouble focussing and standing up

straight.

Johan, Tim and I went out before breakfast in search of used fireworks and found three

‘Brock’s’ rockets. We also recovered a rugby ball that had been kicked over the club’s fence

and landed deep inside a hedge, but it still looked in good shape. We decided to keep

it for practising with until the club re-opened. This heavy, rain soaked, leather ball was

painful to kick and worse to catch. The laced panel ripped at our young skin. With sore

toes, swollen wrists and red hands we abandoned our game. I was glad that we had agreed

that honesty was the best policy and the ball would be returned to the club, the sooner

the better. I preferred our tatty smaller, lighter weight ball that was held together by black

gaffer tape, at least it caused less injuries.The following week Johan and I settled back into our regular routine of going to school,

walking back via the library to do our homework, then practicing our language skills. We

continued to enjoy playing rugby at the after school club and also moved up an age group

to play for the under ten’s team at the local club. Tim was welcomed into the under 8’s team

and was proving to be a pretty good player for his age, got picked to play matches every

weekend, which kept him out of trouble for a few hours a week.

It was a pity that Tim’s skills didn’t transfer to his school life. I was often taken aside by his

class teachers and asked why he wasn’t in school. I had no idea who he played truant with

or who his group of friends were, other than they were kids his age from the next estate

to ours. Mum got a visit from the Head Master, followed by a visit from the Education

Authority, then a visit from Social Services. It transpired that he had got the blame for

getting the better of a notorious school bully and received the cane for his troubles. This,

not surprisingly, put him off going to school. However much I tried to reason with him I

couldn’t convince him to try and put the incident behind him, he just laughed and stated

he valued his behind more than his education.

Over the next couple of years I could count on one hand how many hours I spent with

my dad, I didn’t even miss him. Harry had filled that role in my life. Not having a father

figure around affected Tim more than myself. Other than our enjoyment of sport Tim and

I went through a short phase of having little in common. He wasn’t interested in speaking,

reading or writing English correctly, never mind learning any other languages, or indeed

learning about anything unless it was rugby related or had the potential of leading him

into mischief.

Johan and I invested in two buckets and chamois leathers and asked the newsagent at

the end of our road if we could set up a car washing pitch outside his shop. The owner

was pleased to see young lads in the area making good use of their time and allowed us

to use his water supply from the tap in the yard at the back of the shop. The longer the

drivers waited for their cars to be cleaned the more they spent in his shop. By only charging

sixpence we got quite a few regular customers so it was a viable enterprise for all parties

involved. It felt good to be independent and not to have to ask mum for pocket money.

Back home I saved my money inside a sock and hid this inside my rabbit’s head, which I

accessed by removing part of its neck which I secured to the rest of its body with an old

school tie. This weird looking toy appeared even more creepy than ever.

I was invited by Johan’s family to spend my tenth birthday and Christmas with them in the

mountainside lodge again. I of course jumped at the chance of returning to Sweden. It was

so good to meet up again with his family, who welcomed me as one of their own.

Stefan and his wife Torva drove Johan, Vinka, Marlin and myself to a frozen lake where

I made my first attempt at ice skating. Vinka and Marlin twirled around on the ice like

ballerinas, whilst Johan and I clutched at the hands of Stefan or Torva for support and

tentatively took our first steps. An hour or so later Johan and I both managed to stride outby ourselves but made a mess of stopping, each time landing unceremoniously in a tangle

heap on top of each other. I can only describe my attempt at this particular winter sport

as an epic failure, but it had been fun trying to skate and I had never laughed so much in

my life.

Thank goodness for skiing and for Ronnie who had conveniently grown out of more

clothing which I gratefully acquired. Stefan again shadowed me to begin with during

our first skiing session, and led me with his nieces and nephews on some amazing treks

through the woods. My technique, now much improved, enabled me to keep up with the

other skiers in all sorts of terrain.

In addition to skiing Stefan showed us how to dig a snow hole. This activity took a few

hours of hard work to complete but was an essential survival skill for us to learn. Other

than a collapsible spade I wondered what else Stefan carried in his back pack. He explained

that a snow hole could make the difference between perishing to death or saving a life,

especially if someone were to be injured or caught out in extreme weather conditions. I

made lots of notes so I could share my newly found knowledge with Tim when I next saw

him. Upon entering the snow hole I immediately understood how inside the user was

protected from the wind and other elements.

Back in the warmth and security of the cabin, Greta and her daughters had prepared a

wonderful birthday feast. Vinka, Marlin, Johan and I celebrated another birthday together,

but this time our cake was overly tall with one set of ten candles on the top. We had the

usual four choruses of happy birthday and the multiple blowing out and re-lighting of

candles. By the time it got to my turn there was only a small stub of wax left and two

candles had already extinguished themselves. I was compensated by having the honour of

making the first cut into the sponge layers. Greta had made four tiers of cakes, each in a

different colour and sandwiched together with smooth butter cream. It looked impressive

and tasted fabulous.

We exchanged gifts and this year we all received orienteering compasses from Olaf and

Greta. For the rest of our stay during the dark evenings when we couldn’t go out to ski,

Stefan laid out paper maps across the kitchen table and taught the four birthday children

how to read maps and take bearings. We all took turns to work out routes between two

points and write down the coordinates. From then on our ski trips included some of the

routes we had previously planned and Stefan helped us to take actual bearings using

landmarks. We then had to mark the map using the symbols he had shown us. Little did

I know at the time that the map reading skills learned as a child would prove essential to

me in years to come.

On Christmas Eve the whole family joined in with games played inside the lodge with its

fires blazing in the hearths. Not only was there physical heat but there was also the warmth

of family and friendship in equal measures. It was the best feeling ever. Christmas morning

we were again off to church in the village, funny I didn’t mind going now with all thefamily, it was a loverly atmoshere.

The youngest of our party, Petra, had an ongoing school project which required her to

have an English pen pal. She asked if she could write to me and in turn I send her a reply

in English. This was rather handy as I had wanted to write to Vinka and Johan also wished

to practice German by corresponding with Marlin. So we agreed we would write to each

other in the required languages and by putting the letters together in the same envelope

we could save on postage.

The holiday flew by far too quickly and again we went through the ritual of hugging,

waving and shouting our goodbyes. However this time we were able to add ‘see you soon’

as there was a plan being hatched to spend the summer school holidays together in Ellios.

Back in England, one of the advantages of turning ten years old was that Johan and I had

reached the age of being able to apply to join the Sea Cadets. A couple of friends in our

class at school were already attending Sea Cadet meetings and they got the application

forms for us to fill out and get our parents to sign. We then joined them twice a week and

found Sea Cadets to be just as brilliant as our friends had said.

We joined TS Amethyst our closest unit. Once enrolled we were issued with navy blue no.

8 uniforms, which in the Royal Navy were the working dress. I learned to clean my shoes

the military way and even though I tried my best after several weeks I was still unable to

see my face in the toe caps. I was a bit disappointed with my hard effort. Johan struggled

with ironing and managed to put several tram lines along his sleeves. I practiced saluting

in the mirror, in fact I saluted everyone I met for the first few weeks.

The older boys in the cadets were keen to share their knowledge in an encouraging manner

and sometimes lead small groups in activities such as learning to tie knots. I recognised

many of the knots as Ronnie had shown me their uses when we had been out sailing. The

instructors taught the cadets to read maps and I chose to pretend to be a complete novice,

which was just as well because I soon realised how much I had forgotten.

Johan and I were like a couple of sponges soaking up everything taught to us. We decided

to keep quiet about having sailed before as we didn’t want to be labelled as show off ’s. In

the beginning some of the sailing lessons we treated as refresher sessions, because the stage

one course we were working towards covered most of the syllabus Ronnie had already

covered with us. However, it was still interesting and good to pay attention as some of the

techniques shown differed. Being a Sea Cadet was a very positive experience and I was

proud to be a member.

So I now played rugby three days a week, attended Sea Cadets twice a week and at times

things, such as camping, overlapped at the weekends. I was rarely home and my time was

fully occupied with a fabulous group of new friends, my ‘bestie’ of course remained Johan.

Tim would be nine in April and he wanted to join Johan and I at Sea Cadets, he was aloudto come on a Tuesday only until he was nine then he could be enrolled properly.

Tim loved Sea Cadets as much as I did, he excelled at everything and although he was still

struggling at school particularly with his reading he managed well at cadets, he also joined

the rugby club and started playing in the under tens where he played at full back or centre,

he was quick. Tim would join Johan and I after school to practice our rugby skills and then

we would go round to Johan’s after tea and do our homework, I think this helped Tim a lot.

That Spring Johan and I sat the school’s 11 plus examination. The main assembly hall was

set up with sticky tape on the floor boards marking where each desk and chair should

be positioned. The adjudicator sat on the stage at the front of the hall with a large clock

displayed in front of him. The exam papers were handed out to each pupil, face down, by

Mr Forbes. Not a single word was spoken. Some of my classmates had clammy palms and

their faces looked terrified. Johan was seated several desks away from mine but I noticed

him re-read his answers then close his completed paper at the same time as myself. We

finished way ahead of the others but had to sit still, thoroughly bored and staring into

space, until the allotted time lapsed.

That Easter holiday we along with Tim as he had just turned nine went off to HMS Ganges

for a week camp which involved some sailing in 30 foot yachts and lucky for us they kept

Tim with Johan and I, we had a fantastic week sailing around the Orwell, Deben and Stour

rivers anchoring off each night.

We were kitted out in wet weather gear and by the time we had life jackets over the top

we were as warm as toast. The cadets were split into crews of six people per boat with an

instructor. Each cadet took a turn at various aspects of crewing both above and below decks

including helming and flaking the sails and positioning the fenders for going alongside.

We quickly became proficient at tying bowlines and reef knots at a moments notice. We

also took turns in the galley cooking on the gas stove which swung on a gimbal to keep the

contents of the pans level when the boat heeled over.

The older cadets ran some of the activities and games and there was never a moan heard of

‘I’m bored’ from anyone. There was always something worthwhile to do with like minded

people. On a couple of evenings we found quiet anchorages and watched the sun go down

then slept on board with only the sound of wading birds mingled with our voices.

The next trip we had with the Sea Cadets we visited Portsmouth’s Historic Dockyard where

we had the opportunity to look around a de-commissioned submarine and hear first hand

accounts from former submariners who had served on similar boats. They answered

whatever questions we came up with in a humorous way and were passionate about their

past and sharing stories with us.

As if this wasn’t fabulous enough we then had a guided tour of the Royal Navy’s flag ship,

HMS Victory, widely known for its part in the Battle of Trafalgar led by Vice-AdmiralHoratio Nelson. I could have spent a whole day looking at the many artefacts and revelling

at the history of this fine ship, even the wood still smelled amazing and it’s curved decks

and many original exhibits made me feel as though I was stepping back into the late 1700s.

Just as I though the day couldn’t get any better we were treated to another guided tour, this

time onboard HMS Warrior, an early steam powered gun boat which was exceptionally

fast for its day. It’s many decks and again, countless artefacts, had me spellbound. The

knowledge and enthusiasm of the guides, mainly former Royal Navy veterans, had me

hooked. It was while walking over the cobbled paths at Portsmouth that I had my sights

firmly set on where I wanted to be in a few years time when I left school. My aim was to

join the Royal Navy and much to my delight Johan had exactly the same idea.

Several weeks after the examinations Johan and I both learned that we had come top of the

class, having earned excellent marks we had both obtained guaranteed places at Hitchin

Grammar School. Our classmates were to attend the new Secondary Modern School. The

pressure of exams that some of our friends had suffered soon lifted and the last term at

Junior School was even more fun than usual. We had a day trip on a coach which took us to

the Science Museum in central London, which I had been to a few times before but never

got tired of.

Our class put on an end of term play. It was a production of Treasure Island. Parts of the

story had been re-written to include some amusing roles played by the clowns in the class.

There was also much dancing which I didn’t recall from the original story, but the girls

enjoyed themselves. Johan and I were both pirates, we had to perform a sea shanty and say

‘shiver me timbers’ several times whilst over pronouncing ‘Arrrrs’ and stagger about in a

drunken fashion carefully navigating the edge of the stage.

At the dress rehearsal in front of the whole school some pupils forgot their lines and so

ad-libbed, it was hilarious and had the children from the other classes clutching their sides

with laughter, so Mr Forbes decided to keep the new lines in for the final show. By the

time the class performed to parents ‘Treasure Island’ resembled a pantomime, but it was

a great way to spend the last week with school friends I had grown up with since nursery

days. It was with great sadness that I left the Junior School playground for the last time and

walking through the gates I bit on the sides of my dry mouth without looking back.

Our summer holiday was going to be a very busy one, we had a Sea Cadet camp to

Montrose in Scotland where we would be doing some sailing and other boat work, it was

only a long week, we left on the first Friday after school broke up for the summer and took

the night train up from Kings Cross to Edinburgh before changing trains at six o’clock in

the morning for a train to Aberdeen getting off in Montrose.

We were being hosted by the Montrose Sea Cadets and put up in their hall in hammocks

and used their boats, they had some rowing Skiffs so we learnt to row the Navy way, it was

a great week and Tim really enjoyed himself, he was good company.We took the night train back on the Saturday and arrived home Sunday morning. On

Monday morning mum and Ingrid took Johan and myself to get our new school uniforms

ready for the new school year, but more importantly for the ship and the evening dinner

dress code. Johan and I were getting the ship on Monday evening from Harwich to

Gothenburg for our four week holiday with Ingrid’s family.

Olaf picked us up from the ship as usual, It was great to see them all again, I guess we were

all growing up. We had another sailing trip planned and with Johan and I getting very

good at navigation we were aloud to plan our passages, with great success I must admit.

Ronnie didn’t join us this year as he had gone on a holiday with his friends, he was almost

fourteen after all. This year it was just Erik and the five of us, Vinka, Marlin, Petra, Johan

and myself, it wasn’t too cramped on the boat but comfortable. The weather was just perfect

and we learnt so much adding to our knowledge all the time, we absolutely loved sailing.

Erik worked for the Hallberg factory with Olaf and they were able to borrow a sailing boat

to continue teach us to sail.

On the boat we changed around crew once we had all learnt the basics and knew all the

jobs, terms and were able to hone these new skills, we all took to it and loved every minute,

Vinka was very good almost a natural.

Petra had turned eight and was learning English in school and asked if we could speak in

English to help her, Vinka, Marlin, were already fairly good at English, we agreed and for

the rest of the holiday we conversed in English, Petra was a very quick learner and bright

as a button. I spent a bit of it talking to Petra helping her improve her English, I think she

had a crush on me but I didn’t let on.

Our weeks sailing was over all too quickly but we had gained so much experience, the rest

of the time we spent down at the beach or the swimming holes soaking up the summer

sun, we had a lovely time, Johan and I had brought our old size 3 rugby ball with us to

practiced with, Vinka and Marlin joined in then loads of the other kids wanted to join in

as well, so we showed them the basics of touch rugby then we all played a lot, when we left

we donated them the ball. Johan and I clubbed together and brought a how to play touch

rugby rule book and sent it to the girls.

We had just over a week left after we returned from Sweden before starting at the Grammar

school. Dressed in our new school uniforms, you could tell the newbies as the blazers,

trousers, shirts and ties looked like one size larger then the wearer. Standing in the play

ground surrounded by serveral hundred other students, a tall well built lad with a prefect

badge came over to us as asked if we were first years, we we nodded and said yes, he told us

we needed to join the other first year students and be the first into assembly.

A loud bell sounded signalling for us to enter the great hall and make our way to thestage and line up in front of it. Looking up onto the stage were a couple of dozen teachers

dressed in teaching gowns stood in front of chairs, in the centre of the stage was a lectern

whith the head master looking out across the hall, he waved a hand and I heard the door

bang closed behind us.

Professor Scofield was an impressive figure stood at the lectern, his booming voice carried

right to the back of the great hall, he welcomed everyone back for another year of learning,

he looked directly down at us first years and told us we had done well to pass the eleven

plus to gain a place here, ‘don’t waist it’. He then told us to wait here when the rest of the

school left to go to their lessons. He then introduced a few new teachers to the school, a

bell sounded and the hall empted.

It turns out that Professor Scofield had been the Regimental Sergeant Major of the 1st

Battalion Hertfordshire Regiment, he spent the first half of the war on coastal defences, in

1943 the Battalion then went to Gibraltar until 1944 when they invaded Italy. After the war

he trained as a teacher and ended up at the school as a Professor and head master.

The headmaster then gave us a few rules to follow then said in Latin: Per ardua ad alta;

(Striving for Excellence). He then said these are your form teachers, they will now take

you to your classrooms. Four teachers joined us and proceeded to split us down into our

classes, fortunately Johan and I were in the same class with Miss Higgins.

Miss Higgins led us to our classroom, she was going to be our French teacher, I immediately

though there was something special about her, she was in her mid fortys with brown

permed hair and a tan complection she certainly had a French accent. Johan and I took

our places at the front of the classroom.

Johan and I were fairly nervous about going up but after the first week we had nothing

to worry about, we were as bright if not brighter than most kids in our class. We stayed

together in all our classes, never apart, never ever fell out on anything, we were the greatest

of mates, I was probably closer to Johan than my own brother Tim.

Miss Higgins spent the next half hour going through our new school timetable, it was

really good, Monday morning we started with double English language followed by double

maths then a single period of Geography. In the afternoon we had the second period of

Geography. Then double German and to finish the day a double lesson of history. In history

we started with the Peninsular wars, we found this fascinating.

Tuesday started with a double lesson of French then before lunch we had double English

literature and one lesson of Latin before lunch. The afternoon started with the second

lesson of Latin followed by double General Science before finishing the day off with double

music and ballroom dancing, Johan and I weren’t really into it much at first but as this

was a new subject we grew to love it, our teacher not only had been a British and World

champion ballroom dancer but was so passionate about it, it rubbed off on us. Because ourschool was all boys a class from the Girls Grammer school joined us for these lessons, the

first term they came to us the next term we went to them.

It turned out that our dance teacher Mr Harris was the partner of Mrs Harris the girls

dance teacher, they made these lessons so much fun, at first the boys were so nervous as

were the girls but after the first couple of lessons Mr and Mrs Harris put us at ease and from

then on they were great lessons and a real life skill.

Wednesday was a great day, the morning was double Physics followed by double Biology

then a Debating lesson, we had so much fun in these lessons, after lunch was a double

drama followed by treble rugby, we proved our worth and were picked for the first year

team, Johan at fly half number ten and me at scrum half, nine, also were able to switch

round and also play at full back fifteen, we could both kick as well. There were a few other

lads in our year from the rugby club at the school, so we had a good side. The summer term

we would do athletics instead, Johan and I would do sprints and distance running.

Thursday morning we had religious studies, our worst subject, we didn’t really like it but

went along with it as it wasn’t in our nature to do other wise, we did have some interesting

debates on occasion though, we questioned everything, I think Miss Vickers thought we

were taking the micky a lot of the time, it was after all only a single period so wasn’t too

bad. After that we spent the rest of the morning doing woodwork and metalwork, then

lunch followed by double Art then double History, then we had a Debating lesson taken by

Professor Scofield where we had some great heated discussions to round off the day.

Friday was another good day with double German followed by double maths and English

literature then after lunch the second part of English literature and finished the week off

with treble Motor Mechanics, basically this was all about learning how cars, motorbikes

and engines worked, Johan and I loved this lesson, our teacher Mrs Horsefield was very

impressed with us. We even had an old police vellocette motorbike as a project to restore,

this gave us a lifelong passion for motorbikes.

It turns out that Mrs Horsefield was in the ATS during the war and startedd off as a despatch

rider then trained as a mechanic ending up as an instructor teaching other girls how to

look after their vehicles carrying out maintenance and repairing them. After the war she

went to university and gained a degree in mechanical engineering before becoming a

teacher, we also had her for metal work.

Miss Higgins then escorted us around the school for the next hour showing us where all the

different classes were, it felt strange at first moving around the school for all the different

lessons as we had been use to staying in the same classroom for all lessons at junior school.

It took us a couple of weeks to fully find our way around but after that no problem.

I survived my first term at Grammar School better than I thought I would. I had gained

a steady stream of House Points and luckily been given no detentions. The very thoughtof having to stay behind late after school filled me with dread, because my car washing

business would suffer. I tried hard not to give any of the teachers a reason for punishing

me. We kept to a rigid after school schedule and always got our homework out of the way

before commencing any evening or weekend activities, therefore never missing homework

deadlines. I wasn’t trying to be a ‘goodie two shoes’ I just liked to be organised and got

annoyed with myself if I didn’t achieve the targets I set for myself and I always managed to

meet the deadlines set by the teachers.

Our least favourite lesson was Latin, although our school moto was in latin: Per ardua ad

alta; (Striving for Excellence). We sat quietly in front of an uncharismatic teacher staring

at the board and not moving a muscle, other than those required to focus, blink and hold

a pen. However I studied hard and developed a healthy respect for the subject because

having some knowledge of Latin definitely helped me with modern languages, chemistry

and biology. Ingrid checked Johan’s and my Latin, French and German homework before

we handed it in, giving us a chance to re-think our answers if necessary, so our marks were

consistently high. There were other pupils in my school year who had also travelled and

practiced their language skills, so to be top of a class was a challenge and most of us were

very competitive.

During English literature lessons I studied a book entitled One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

by Ken Kesey. The story was set in a psychiatric hospital and centred around institutional

processes and the power of the human mind. It was about as far away from a comforting

bed time story as could possibly be found. I quickly read it through to gain an inkling of

what it was about then concentrated hard on the individual paragraphs analysed during

the lessons. Several years later in 1975 I was to visit a cinema to see the film based on the

book, 135 minutes later I left the screening still none the wiser.

We were still enjoying going to Sea Cadets and were slowly moving up the promotion

ladder, some evenings we wore Number Ones for drill and getting ready for Remembrance,

other nights we wore No. 8 working dress, I remember one film I did very much enjoy was

‘The Yangtze Incident’. The Sea Cadets had a block booking at the Odeon cinema and

we marched a mile and a half from our base to see the film, which was being re-shown

prior to Remembrance Sunday. Our unit was named after HMS Amethyst and the cadet

instructors decided that by watching the film we would better understand and respect the

fallen at our forthcoming Remembrance parade.

In 1949, the British Frigate F116 HMS Amethyst was making its way down the Yangtze

River when its passage was hindered by Communist Chinese troops. From the shore

Chinese troops fired on the Amethyst. HMS Consort, HMS London and HMS Black Swan

attempted to assist HMS Amethyst but due to shellfire, bureaucracy and various other

conditions the rescuers were forced back.

Amethyst’s captain had to figure out a way to lead his crew to safety, manoeuvring the

damaged ship down the Yangtze to Shanghai under the cover of darkness, then onwardsto Hong Kong where the ship arrived in a blaze of glory. It was a thought provoking true

story and amazing film.

During a cold, wet Sunday morning remembrance service in November, while the cadets

stood in solemn ranks I recall glimpsing down at my boots, and those of my fellow cadets,

and seeing a neat row of gleaming toe caps. We had all made an extra effort to present

ourselves and wear our uniforms with pride. Johan had been chosen to escort the colours

and I hoped with all my might that the releasing halyard wouldn’t tangle around the mast

during the unfurling ritual.

I have always felt aggrieved to see the Union Flag flown upside down. Often seen in

sports stadiums or attached to the end of sticks and waved enthusiastically from jubilant

cheering crowds during national celebrations, it amazes me how many people don’t know

which way up our national flag goes. No such problems during this remembrance service,

Johan did a great job and all went well. As the bugler played ‘The Last Post’ a few stifled

dry coughs followed along the ranks and while standing to attention, to observe the two

minutes silence, a lump came to my throat.

While I was standing to attention I noticed Miss Higgins in the crowd, during the wreath

laying I saw her move forward and lay a wreath, as she turned round I noticed she had a

few medals on her left brest, I knew they were from the war and I wondered what she had

done during the war.

I hadn’t wanted to go straight home after the parade, there was little to go home for and I

definitely didn’t want to run the risk of my dad turning up just to pick yet another quarrel

with my mum. No rugby matches had been scheduled and I felt it was a little irreverent

to knock on doors in the hope of drumming up more car cleaning customers on such a

poignant day, so I went back to the cadets HQ where tea, coffee, port and rum were being

served. No sooner had I stepped inside the hall when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I turned

to see one of the instructors who presented me with a tray and told me to load it up and

pass cups of tea to the visitors.

Miss Higgins was there so I offered her a cup of tea, I said to her that I couldn’t help but

notice her medals, she said that she was in SOE during the war, my jaw hit the floor, I knew

there was something special about her, she said maybe one day I will tell you about it but

not today. She thanked me for the tea and then she left.

I got talking to an elderly veteran with an array of medals pinned to his blazer. He had

been a paratrooper during WWII and had taken part in the landings close to the famous

Pegasus Bridge situated between Caen and Ouistreham in France. Hearing first hand of his

experiences was fascinating, two hours and several cups of tea later he was still talking and

I was still enthusiastically listening. I wasn’t old enough to serve him a tot of rum, but one

of the instructors overhearing parts of our conversation went over the bar and came back

with a bottle for him to take home for later.When the last visitor had left the drill hall I walked back with Johan to his house, got

changed out of our Number 1s then we sprawled out on the lounge carpet to play chess

whilst Ingrid and Harry watched ‘Dr Finley’s Casebook’ on the TV, followed by the Black

and White Minstrel Show. Ingrid sang along to her favourite songs and Harry grimaced

at her tone deaf attempts to serenade him. At times I envied the carefree, fun atmosphere

of my neighbours’ home. Lately there was an increasing feeling of stepping on egg shells

in my own home and my mum looked tired, as if she had the weight of the world on her

shoulders. I knew she didn’t want to fall victim of gossip and kept problems to herself.

Tim and I made a conscious decision to keep out of the way as much as possible. I was glad

when the end of term arrived and we broke up from school for the Christmas holidays.

Thankfully an invitation had been extended to me to join Johan’s family again at the

lodge in the Swedish mountains. The rest of my family were equally excited to visit my

grandparents’ farm in Peacehaven, East Sussex where pigs were farmed. I felt torn between

each locations but Sweden won.

This time I travelled with Johan’s family across the North Sea by ferry. I could tell just by

looking up at the dark clouds that a storm was brewing. As the ferocious wind picked up

and the waves grew higher and crashed over the bow of the ship, there was a very softly

spoken announcement over the tannoy that all outer decks would be closed to passengers.

This was shortly followed by a calm voice stating that two of the bars would be closing early

and passengers may feel more comfortable if they returned to their cabins or remained

seated in one of the lounges.

Throughout the crossing various other areas of the ship were closed. It amused me to

listen to the tone of the tannoy announcer, as the news to be delivered worsened, the more

soothing their voice became. It reminded me of the way doctors or dentists lie when they

say this isn’t going to hurt, then stab you with a needle.

Johan and I were sitting at a coffee table closes to one of the bars when a row of empty

chairs slid from one end of the room across to the opposite wall, accompanied by the

sound of smashing glasses and crockery from the bar area. A group of men used cardboard

beer mats to cover their pints and minimise the risk of spillage of their precious amber

liquid. They joked as they waited for the ship to flatten enabling them to take a swig, then

again held on tightly to their pints as the ship slightly heeled, sending more furniture and

anything else not secured sliding across the floor towards the opposite wall, where an

untidy stack of loose items had formed.

Passengers were reaching for the waxed paper sick bags which had been tucked behind

all the hand rails along the walls and down the stair cases. Many green faced people had

already staggered back to their cabins. I made the mistake of attempting to use one of the

toilets in the lounge area; as soon as I opened the door I could smell the unmistakable pong

of vomit and quickly noticed that gallons had spewed from the blocked toilets and sloshedover the floor. The floor now resembled a lumpy paddling pool of filth and I decided that

my needs weren’t that desperate so would wait to fulfil my mission until back in the luxury

of my cabin.

Note to self: one job I will never undertake is that of a ferry cleaner, or any other role

involving uniform issued rubber boots with a logo on them. Their job made mopping

duties at the Sea Cadets HQ seem like a walk in the park. When I become an adult I will

always leave a decent tip for the cleaner.

Amazingly the evening show in the theatre went ahead. Although there were plenty of

spare seats with unobscured views the audience, which was greatly reduced in numbers,

were very receptive to having a good time. Many groups of people were giving each other

the ‘thumbs up’ and larking about. Who needs a warm up act when there is an audience

of slightly inebriated Christmas holiday makers willing to join in and create a party

atmosphere. Harry of course was in his element.

Although numbers were down, voices were raised and everyone joined in with the songs.

Even Ingrid sounded reasonable compared to others in the theatre that evening. The

gorgeous entertainer in her sparkly outfit and high heeled shoes staggered around the stage

to rapturous applause. Although the singer’s intentions were serious her act was funnier

than the comedian’s. Her dance routine included grasping hold of pillars and speedily

manoeuvring herself to the next secure object within grabbing distance. She certainly lived

by the motto ‘the show must go on’.

The drummer’s stool kept sliding away from the remainder of his drum kit until the sea’s

waves positioned him back again to enable him to keep some kind of beat going. The

guitarists tried to stand rock solid still, making no attempts to dance, but unavoidably

lurched forward and back with grim expressions on their faces. Unsurprisingly the compare

stepped onto the stage and ended the show early. However, the audience had other ideas

and carried on ordering drinks and singing choruses of songs which everyone joined in

with, until the bar, with a depleted stock of shattered glasses, was also forced to close and I,

along with other weary passengers, headed back to our cabin and tried to sleep.

The following morning the queue for the fried breakfasts was very short, in fact the

restaurant was eerily quiet. The serving staff weren’t skimping on the portion sizes. My

plate was piled high with multiple eggs, sausages, bacon, beans, mushrooms and a fried

slice of bread, I also had a whole rack of toast to myself, even Harry announced that he was

full up, which was a declaration seldom heard.

There was a slight delay in disembarking from the ferry because the people in the car in

front of ours had not yet reached their vehicle when the doors had already opened at the

port of Gothenburg. A friendly cheer went up as they approached and re-loaded their

luggage in the boot of their car and we, with a long line of traffic behind us, drove away

from port.At the sight of signs written in Swedish and the traffic driving on the opposite side of the

road it felt different and exciting, the holiday had truly begun. The now familiar scenery

with its banks of snow covered fir trees lining the way to the lodge nestled way up in the

mountains. There to greet us were the smiling faces of Johan’s aunts, uncles and cousins.

Greta with her arms out stretched. Following the ceremonial hug by Greta came the rib

crushing bear hug from her husband, Olaf. It was good to feel that friendly human touch

from Johan’s grandparents which I missed so much, as I rarely saw my own relations.

As I entered the lodge through the side entrance lined with ski racks I immediately felt at

home. Excited voices echoed through the lodge then came the rush of flaying arms from

Vinka, Marlin and Petra as they flung themselves at Johan and myself, an action which I

quite enjoyed, especially the peck on the cheek from Vinka.

There was the familiar wonderfully homely smell of logs burning in the fireplaces mixed

with aromas wafting throughout the lodge from the kitchen. No sooner had we arrived

than a pot of steaming stew was placed on the long kitchen table, which the whole family

sat around. There we sat for the rest of the evening exchanging our news and getting into

the spirit of Christmas. Laughter echoed around the lodge until the early hours of the

morning, when we eventually gave in to sleep.

The following morning I quickly unpacked my case, which had been left untouched from

the previous night. I was the first person to shower and so had lots of hot water. A radiator

had been installed since last winter which was a welcome improvement to the washing

facilities. No more ice on the windows or cold toilet seats to endure. When I brushed my

teeth even the water tasted better than I had remembered.

After breakfast Stefan spread out a map on the table and together we planned a skiing

route for the whole family to follow on the first day of the holiday. Thank goodness I had

practiced my compass and map reading skills because Stefan was closely watching, making

sure I was noting the bearings correctly and using correct pencil markings on the map.

It was agreed that Greta and Olaf would drive over to a given point and meet us with lunch

and flasks of hot drinks. As we hadn’t received any alerts from Stefan’s colleagues, who

were usually the first to hear any local news, it was assumed that all sections of the road

were unaffected by the previous night’s snowfall. We did however factor in two possible

meeting points should the preferred rendezvous be inaccessible.

The moment came when the family gathered around and I was given the task of

communicating the plan. There seemed like a lot of us jostling for space and craning of

necks to view the map. Stefan suggested pinning the map to the cork board in the hallway

between the lounge and the kitchen. Why hadn’t I thought of that.

It was bit like delivering a task to a small group of cadets. I felt I was being tested, in a goodway. I saw several nods of approval but also noted a few nudges and knowing looks when

one particular section of the route was mentioned. I paused for a moment and asked what

I had missed. With grinning faces I was told not to spoil the surprise and that I would find

out. I had obviously overlooked something and Stefan had full knowledge of the joke.

Dressed in warm clothes under Salopettes, ski jacket, padded gloves and carrying a small

back pack with emergency kit (this year’s birthday present) we set off from the lodge using

cross country skis. My back pack had reflective strips on the zipped side pockets and

also on the top flap. The bag contained lots of useful items such as my very own folding

snow shovel, a foil ‘space’ blanket as introduced by NASA in 1964, a pen knife, para cord,

waterproof matches and a torch. Some of the smaller items fitted inside a tin with a mirror

built into the lid. I felt as if I was ready to go on an escape and evasion task, not just a family

day trip.

There were twelve of us in our party all donning bright orange woollen ‘beanies’ on our

heads. These were promotional gifts as used by Stephan’s winter sports business. Marlin

was raving over the shade of orange, which apparently was the most fashionable colour.

We stood out like sore thumbs but I didn’t really care what we looked like as long as the

hat kept my ears warm.

Although I hadn’t used skis for a year the technique came back to me straight away and

didn’t feel awkward at all. It was good to feel the cold air on my face again and commence

gliding on the lane which led out of the small village and into the forest. It was even

more fun to build up speed on the woodland tracks, dodging the fir trees heavily laden

with glistening white snow. With the sun shining through the gaps in the trees the scene

resembled a picture on a traditional Christmas card. Personally I would have preferred to

receive a carton image, ideally depicting the occasional bombing from the branches as they

released melting dumps of snow onto the unsuspecting skiers below.

For the first half an hour the tracks were generally level and seemed fairly easy. After which

we came across a few slopes which required side stepping to reach the higher points of the

route. At first the small slopes weren’t particularly challenging but we then reached a fairly

long slope which, had there been a competition, I would have reached the top in a medal

gaining position. Feeling a bit cocky at my achievement I stood with my hands on my hips

in an exaggerated stance waiting for the others to catch up. It was then I noted the cheeky

looks on their faces as they pointed to what was laying ahead.

I had lead the party to an area well known by local skiers, that most people would choose

to avoid. Our route required downhill skiing through a series of mogul fields. I can only

describe these moguls as massive naturally formed snow bumps resembling giant sized

upturned egg boxes, each bump being at least a foot high, but of course just to make

crossing these on skis more difficult they were all different heights and randomly placed.

Erik, Lars and Stefan took the lead making sharp turns as they descended the slope. Thisaction enabled the edges of their skis to carve slices out of the snow, pushing it away each

time and so flattening the tops for the following skiers to transverse the bumps more easily.

I slunk to the back of the line of skiers in the hope that some of the bumps would be

reasonably level by the time I reached them, but no, these moguls were evil, jarring every

bone in my body as I struck them. I tried skiing around them but that idea didn’t work,

I just bounced about between the moguls until I fell over in a sprawled heap. I attempted

to ski straight over the tops, but as they weren’t conveniently in a straight line or evenly

distributed I just catapulted myself high into the air, resulting in several undignified hard

landings on my backside.

By the time I reached the bottom of the slope my legs had turned to jelly. I could feel

my heart racing inside my rib cage, or it may have been another organ jostling for space

having been temporarily misplaced! Having already made it to the base and waiting for

me to catch up were Johan and his family. For my efforts I received kindly meant slaps on

my already sore back, but as every inch of my body ached a simple thumbs up would have

sufficed. Thankfully the next leg of the trip was smoother and lead to the winding road

with a lay-by where Olaf and Greta were parked. Our bright orange hats could be seen as

specks in the distance. By the time we reached the car the folding picnic table had already

been set up, the hamper unpacked and steaming hot chocolate poured from the flasks into

rows of cups.

Chunks of cold meats and slices of cheese served on rye bread had never tasted so good.

Then came a fabulous surprise. Olaf carried a large tray from the boot of the car with a

cardboard box over the top forming a lid. Greta raised the box revealing a huge birthday

cake covered in shiny chocolate fudge icing. Candles were inserted into the mouth watering

masterpiece and a wind shield made from the now flattened, and torn into strips, box

which protected the small flames from being prematurely blown out.

A chorus of happy birthday was sung in various pitches and wording, as four names needed

to be featured and not everyone sang them in the same order. The sound of laughter was

replaced by admiring sighs of delight as Greta cut into the rich, gooey, cake. It literally was

finger licking good.

After lunch I was given the option of continuing to ski or accept a lift back to the lodge in

the luxury of the car. Anna and Ingrid chose to return with Olaf and Greta to help prepare

the evening meal. Through gritted teeth I perhaps foolishly said that I would like to carry

on skiing. In hindsight it may have been better to have taken things easier on the first day.

The afternoon route took us close to a popular ski resort. Although we remained off piste

there were still lots of people enjoying the perfect conditions. Again, the unmistakable

orange hats proved useful and our group stayed together leaving no stragglers behind. I

was aware that my pace had slowed. Johan’s uncles jokingly made up a song frequently

using the lyrics ‘bendzee kneez and keep smiling’. It was actually good advice althoughtheir singing was awful, as was the tune.

We arrived back at the lodge in good spirits and within half an hour of our planned timings,

so I was pleased with my first attempt at planning such an expedition. I was relieved to

take my boots out of the skis bindings and flex my feet. Stefan was strict about cleaning

and applying wax to the blades before putting the skis in the storage rack. Every piece of

equipment had its own place and also each item of outer clothing had its own peg or space

on a shelf. He made sure we all adhered to his high standards. We then dived into the sauna

before dinner.

Petra dropped one of her gloves on the floor and left it there, only to have the stray glove

ceremoniously reunited with its other half of the pair by Stefan, who then dished out a forfeit.

During dinner Petra had to say all the names of the family backwards while mimicking

their voices. This in itself was funny but far more so was watching the expressions of the

adults during her recital. They had been drinking copious amounts of gluhwein and the

alcohol content had kicked in and there was plenty of good cheer to be had by everyone

around the table.

After dinner records were played on the gramophone in the lounge. The men were dancing

around the furniture with tea-towels wrapped around their heads. When the music

stopped they had to balance shot glasses on their foreheads and walk around one of the

settees without spilling the content. Harry and Lars were the last ones left in the game.

The defeated adults looked on with damp patches on their shirt fronts clinging to their

skin. Ronnie was adding to the two remaining dancers already heightened concentration

levels, by attempting to throw peanuts into the glasses as they passed him. When Harry

was eventually crowned the outright winner Ingrid remarked that he deserved to win, as

he had invested several hours over the years honing this particular skill. Johan, Ronnie and

the older girls then left the adults to enjoy even more spiced hot wine, grabbed towels and

headed back outside for another sauna at the end of the garden.

Having eaten far too much and already got nicely warm I forewent the offer to join them.

My cardio vascular system was working perfectly and I had no need to exhilarate my mental

well-being, or any other part of my body I was told would benefit from such an experience.

The sauna goers had set the sand-timer to half an hour of laying on the pine benches,

gently sweltering in the dry heat like a row of herrings waiting to turn into whitebait.

In contrast Petra and I settled sprawled out on the thick carpet in front of the crackling

log fire in the lounge to played draughts. After beating her by five games to nil I purposely

put some of my counters on squares which could be easily taken by her pieces, but the

opportunities were missed. After another disappointing defeat for her I suggested we

change games in favour of Ludo. Luckily the dice was on Petra’s side and she had a steady

run of throwing sixes. Her exuberant moment of glory was followed by a bare footed lap

of honour around the garden, through the now deep snow. It was not much of a run, it

was more of a slow motion crunchy plod as one foot broke through the white surface anddisappeared followed by a wobbly attempt to lift her foot up again to take the next step.

The combination of squealing due to the icy cold shock to her feet and the howls of her

laughter was a sound to behold, similar to that of a braying donkey on steroids but less

tuneful. The door to the sauna opened and a group of rosey faces peered out to see what

all the noise was about. At this point we all decided to join in a conga dance around the

garden which eventually wound its way back into the lodge. During this act of madness I

had kept my feet well and truly covered with thick socks inside boots. Feeling mildly smug

I watched my friends prancing about half naked tightly holding onto bath towels, whilst I

remained fully clad and as warm as toast.

As we entered the lodge door Ingrid and Greta had blankets ready to wrap around the

cold bodies and space had been made around the fireside for them to sit. As their feet

dangled in front of the hot embers I noticed my friends toes turn varying shades of red to

purple as they began to develop the first stages of itchy, swollen chilblains. I was jokingly

appointed the King of the Killjoys and crowned by a white handkerchief with knots tied

in the corners. I was perfectly happy to accept with great honour and wear the traditional

holiday maker’s hat of a British subject abroad.

The whole family sat together in the lounge, all enjoying mugs of hot chocolate with

marshmallows melting on the top and talking late into the night. I wasn’t just me who

found themselves yawning, it had been a long day. A long, wonderful day.

A loud knock on the front door woke me. I heard Erik mumbling something as he made

his way downstairs. There was a hurried exchange of men’s voices from the vicinity of the

door step then the heavy wooden door shut and Erik raced back upstairs to wake Lars,

who quickly dressed and went outside. My immediate thought was the mountain rescue

team were being scrambled, but both men soon returned to finish their sleep so it couldn’t

have been an emergency after all.

In the small village high up in the mountains the only telephones were at the rescue centre,

the hotel, the village shop which doubled as a post office and Stefan’s outdoor pursuits

school. A telephone message had been taken by one of Stefan’s employees, who had done

his best to converse with the English caller, but a return call was needed to fill in the

missing blanks where translation had got lost, hence the need for Erik’s language skills and

his early awaking.

As we congregated downstairs for breakfast Erik and Lars appeared concerned about

something. Ingrid, Anna and Harry were asked to join them sitting in a corner of the

lounge talking in low voices. There were lots of knowing looks, tut-tuts, nodding and

shaking of heads along with drawn out sighs. One by one other adults joined in the huddle

in the corner of the lounge adding to more anxious faces, shrugging of shoulders and hand

gestures. Had I not have known better I may have thought they were playing a strange

variation of the ‘Simon Says’ game.We, the younger contingent, were eager to learn what was happening but knew the best

course of action was to keep busy elsewhere for now and wait to be told. Reaching for two

chess boards Vinka placed one in front of Johan and Marlin, the other in front of myself.

Pulling up a chair she sat opposite me and set up the pieces on the board. Flipping a coin

she called ‘krona eller klave’ (heads or tails) and the challenge began. Petra was given the

role of time keeper which she took very seriously, calling out the time every two minutes.

I thought playing Johan back home could turn into a long gruelling contest, but Vinka

was even more strategically ruthless. There was no room for patronising gentlemanly

behaviour here, my highly intelligent opponent would not stand for any of that nonsense

and two hours later we were no way near ending our tough battle.

The chess tournament was put on hold and the positions on the boards carefully noted

as we were told to get ready to go out. For a treat we were to drive over to a much larger

resort, where there was an international biathlon event taking place. Stefan had already left

at sunrise as he was one of the course officials and needed to help prepare and mark out

the course. Everyone immediately perked up and with lightened mood loaded two vehicles

with warm clothing, flasks of hot drinks and of course Greta’s picnic baskets.

As we approached the parking area I could hear music playing. Many of the shops on

either side of the main street were selling bunting, Swedish scarves, flags and cow bells of

various sizes. I was given a massive and very heavy bell by Anna. I pitied the poor animal

that would have to wear that around its neck. I sounded like Big Ben as I walked along the

street which brought smiles to the faces of passers by.

Similar to the village fate’s back home in England there were stalls selling candy floss,

sweets and novelties. Harry handed to the stall holder 14 of the small paper bags hanging

on a string at the side of the sweets table and asked for them to be filled with a mixture.

The stall holder took no persuading in scooping generous portions of sweets into the bags

which were filled to the brim. When Harry was handed his change the stall holder ripped

off a further 14 bags and gave them to him, so as to double bag our weighty, already bag

splitting booty.

My mouth watered at the sight of my bag of treats. Thanking Harry I began to sample the top

layer. I discovered individually delicious flavours but some very odd flavour combinations

including aniseed twists, pear drops, pineapple chunks, mints, nuts, liquorice, chocolate,

boiled fruit sweets, sherbet, fudge and chewy toffees. Ingrid reminded me that I had all

week to eat them, but Harry just winked and nudged me signalling to get stuck in.

Johan’s aunts and uncles seemed to know many of the people attending the event and were

moving between different groups exchanging their news. Erik and Lars disappeared to

help the team of officials and would catch up with us later. The girls and Ronnie saw many

of their school friends in the crowds and there was lots of waving going on between them.We were able to walk some of the way along the road but to reach the best viewing spots

required skis. Being fully equipped we headed higher up the slopes in search of the reserved

area sponsored by Stefan’s company. Being the only clear area amongst the vast crowd it

was easy to spot. We had a much sort after view of the start/finish line, the majority of the

track and also the rifle firing range. Having squeezed our way through the crowds we took

off our skis, stood them upright in the snow and stood on the hessian matting provided.

The families of Stefan’s colleagues were already waiting there and between us we created a

wonderful party atmosphere. Everyone was singing along to the songs being played over

the tannoy, thankfully American music was popular so I also knew the words and could

join in.

It appeared fashionable for younger people to move around within their clique of friends

with arms linked. This suited myself and Johan fine, he made sure he was always close to

Marlin whilst I hovered by Vinka like a bee around a honey pot. They were definitely pretty

girls and the most interesting to talk to. Petra, not wanting to be left out, clung to my other

arm which Vinka found cute and told me I was kind and caring, so I strutted like a peacock

doing my best to impress.

The noise from the crowd rose to fever pitch as the race participants congregated near the

starting point. Flags of different nations were frantically waved, whistles blew, scarves were

flicked narrowly missing the heads of people standing close to the wearers, drums were

beaten, but the best sound of all was the ringing of the many cow bells, and of course my

mighty great beast of a deep toned clanger which got lots of appreciative laughs.

Everyone chanted the count down and the shot from the starting pistol echoed around

the mountains. The first skier was off. The competition covered a distance of 20 km (12.4

miles) for men and 15 km (9.3 miles) for women. The competitors at 30 second or 1 minute

intervals then race against the clock. They each had 20 rounds of ammunition and stop

four times to fire, alternating between prone and standing positions.

Striding over the flat first part of the cross country course the skiers quickly found their

rhythm. The pace didn’t seem to lessen as the course led them higher up the slopes. The

skiers zig zagged their way along the course passing gates then powering their way to

the upper levels. They then sped downhill like darts being thrown in a straight line until

they reached a particularly tight bend. One competitor clipped the barrier and spun out

of control for several feet, but he managed to get back up, collected his dislodged ski and

cheered on by the crowds from all nations he continued his way down the hill until he

temporarily disappeared out of sight.

The leaders soon reappeared working their way up the slope. The muscles in their legs must

have been burning and with gritted teeth they again worked their way to the top, rounded

another sequence of bends and then with a whoosh lasting a split second they passed right

by our enclosure towards the prone firing range. Stopping abruptly they swung their rifles

across from their backs and lay on the mats with the rifle butts tucked firmly against theirshoulders. I could see the rise of fall of the competitors’ rib cages through their ski suits as

they calmly controlled their breathing, took aim and fired at the row of five targets each.

To hold a rifle steady after skiing took immense strength both physically and mentally.

Their concentration was purely focused on their own performance and not of anyone else

around them. Laying on these mats were some of the worlds finest athletes and I was in

awe of them. Holding my breath as they squeezed the triggers I was willing them to hit

their targets, regardless of which country they represented.

Any competitor who missed a target had to ski around an additional loop, thus incurring

time penalties and also adding to their fatigue. It was certainly an incentive not to miss

but provided great entertainment for the crowd if any skier unfortunately did. From our

vantage point we saw each competitor pass us and fire at the range four times so we could

see their progression in the field and also tiredness creeping in. Towards the end of the

gruelling race the crowd went crazy making as much noise as possible to encourage all

skiers right to the very end.

With Vinka and Petra still hanging onto my arms and leaping up and down with excitement

I feared at least one shoulder dislocation was imminent, so I held their hands instead

which felt uncomfortably awkward. When Marlin and Johan stood close by we looked

like one of those concertina paper doll lines that children make when first learning to use

round ended scissors.

The winner of the ladies competition was Swiss and the men’s race was won by a Norwegian.

The Swedish competitors got places on the podium so there was much to celebrate and the

party atmosphere continued long after the prize giving ceremony concluded.

Before the sun went down we collected our things together and headed down the hill and

back to the parked cars. Erik, Lars and Stefan would return home later as they had the

course to dismantle before their day was over. A long line of headlights could be seen with

many other cars at a standstill waiting to join the queue onto the exit road. There seemed

little point in adding to the congestion so we stowed our gear in the boots of our cars and

walked to the nearest hotel for après-ski .

Taking advantage of the expected rush of tourists the hotelier had laid on entertainment

and also a massive buffet spreading along the whole length of one wall of the main function

room. Olaf paid and handed us each a plate saying to help ourselves to as much as we

wanted. There was no polite queuing system or white gloved waiters that day, it was a case

of spot a gap between grazing people and grab whatever you could from the buffet. Darting

back and forth along the buffet I piled my plate high and sat on a bench seat at a long picnic

style table, which again Stefan’s company had reserved for his clients and mainly his family.

A few people jostled their way over to an area set aside for dancing. The floor was very

crowded and I was sure that if I stood up my space at the table would quickly be taken, so Isat glued to it. The people at our table sang along to the band enthusiastically but remained

firmly seated. Jugs of beer were placed at the ends of the tables and passed around for

anyone who wanted to refill their glasses. Harry and Olaf took full advantage of being at

the top end of the table and kept hold of the jug, refilling their glasses several times before

passing it along the row.

A trolley with an urn of hot chocolate was wheeled between the tables. It was a bit like

requesting a bus to stop, you held out your arm (but holding a mug) and the controller

of the trolley ladled the rich hot chocolate into the waiting mug, then clipped the drinks

ticket to show that one of the four paid for drinks had been taken. He then moved off to

the next stopping point. The dollop of thick cream melted into the chocolate making it

taste even more indulgent. Tasty though it was, drinking four mugs full would have been a

challenge, I gave in after just two.

Late into the evening Ingrid and Greta waved the car keys signalling that they felt it was

time to head back to the lodge. Olaf pointed to his empty glass and Harry obligingly poured

more beer into it, earning him a stern look from Ingrid and an exaggerated wagging finger

from Greta accompanied by her usual smile spread lovingly across her face. The ladies

decided to leave the men to get a lift home later with Erik, Lars and Stefan. The rest of our

group elbowed our way to the exit door and out into the cold night air.

The majority of cars had left the parking area making it easy to find our vehicles. I noticed

Johan had sidled up to Marlin, but Petra overtook Vinka and leapt into the car beside me

positioning herself half sitting on my knee. After about 20 minutes into the journey my

legs began to feel numb. I would have silently suffered the following ‘pins and needles’ had

the sensation been caused by her older sister. I decided to fake a bout of cramp and Anna

obligingly pulled the car over for me to get out and stretch my legs. Vinka shuffled across

close to Petra leaving me space to sit next to her when I got back into the car. Result!

Back in the lodge although everyone felt tired, no one wanted to bring the day to an end.

We sat together around the blazing fire in the lounge and talked into the early hours of the

morning. The men staggered home having been driven back in a taxi and I remembered

seeing the clock on the wall at 3 a.m. at which point I must have dropped off to sleep. When

I woke the same clock showed the time was close to 10 a.m. Sleeping bodies were draped

in chairs around me, on the floor and Lars had somehow secured himself a pillow and

blankets but had curled up on the bottom of the stairs.

I could hear the rattle of cutlery and whistle from the kettle in the kitchen. Standing by

the cooker cracking eggs into a bowl in preparation for making omelettes was Greta. I was

handed a lump of cheese and a grater and put to work. One by one the family woke and

bleary eyed sat around the table for a very late breakfast. No one took any persuading to

spend a quiet day indoors.

The chess boards were carefully recovered by Petra, the referee, and our mini tournamentrecommenced. After a tough game Vinka beat me, but we agreed to have a re-match after a

short break. I couldn’t help but notice the adults were again huddled together in the lounge

and spoke in hushed voices with concerned looks on their faces. It felt slightly unnerving

because from time to time they looked across in my direction. Harry made eye contact and

beckoned me to join him. He put his arm around my shoulders and led me into a quieter

room.

I was pleased that he came straight to the point and told me that messages had been

received from England, but it had taken a while to decipher the content as the telephone

in Stefan’s office was not always answered by an English speaking operator. To add to the

confusion my mother wasn’t answering the phone when attempts had been made to return

the calls. For a split second my chest felt tight and I saw black dots in front of my eyes. I

though I would pass out but I then heard Harry say that he finally got to speak directly to

my mother this morning. With relief I knew that she was alright and whatever news he had

to impart to me it would not be as bad as I had imagined, had I had the time to even think

about a tragic scenario.

Harry was kind and gently explained that my parents had been arguing for some time and

were unable to reach an arrangement which would allow them to continue living together.

I stopped him in his tracks and told Harry that I had no recollection of any time when they

hadn’t argued, my view was that he hadn’t cared for me, my mother or my sisters for years

and if he had chosen to leave then it was no great loss.

I was aware that Ingrid stood behind my chair and I felt her hand lightly rest on my

shoulder. Harry continued to tell me that my mother had taken Tim and my sisters away

to a place of safety and planned to spend some time at my Grandparents farm until a

longer term solution could be found. My mother thought that I would prefer to remain in

Hitchin, Ingrid and Harry had told her that if I wanted to I could live with Johan and them

for a while until the situation at home improved.

I was hit with mixed emotions, first the sense of despair that I hadn’t been at home to

support my mother when she needed help, then the relief at knowing that my depleted

family were unharmed and being looked after. I was overjoyed to finally be free of my

sisters but devastated to be separated from my brother. Seeing the look of anguish on my

face Harry said that I needed time to take in the situation and suggested he and I take a

walk.

The moment we stepped outside and closed the lodge door behind us it hit me, the

world as I knew it had just collapsed. Harry wrapped his arms around my shoulders as

I buried myself into his chest and sobbed. The man in front of me tenderly breaking this

heartbreaking news to me was the only true father figure I had ever known. I believed him

when he told me that he and Ingrid would welcome me into their home if that was to be

my choice. I would be given time to think it through. Without any hesitation I jumped at

the opportunity to stay with my best mate Johan.Harry asked if I would agree for him to speak with Johan alone before breaking the news

to the other younger members of the wider family. He informed me that the adults were

already aware of the troubles that had been brewing at home and they all wanted to offer

whatever support I needed. Instead of kindly thanking him I uncharacteristically snapped

that I didn’t want their sympathy and I found myself using a word not found in the

dictionary to describe my dad. At once I regretted my outburst and apologised but Harry

said he understood and it was good to let off steam once in a while, but warned that many

swear words were not just used by the English and were universally understood; we both

laughed and went back indoors.

Greta and Ingrid steered me into the kitchen and Harry headed upstairs with Johan,

everyone else was still congregated in the lounge. I was handed two rows of chocolate,

from a large sharing sized bar of chocolate, then heard a bedroom door bang. The sound

of familiar footsteps running downstairs, then Johan appeared with the biggest smile on

his face. He punched me hard on the arm deadening all feeling in it for a few moments, I

retaliated with equal measures of this strange friendly code meaning that we were pleased

to see each other. Happy with the news of my parents break up would mean all our time

could be spent together without my sisters annoying us.

The ‘elephant in the room’ addressed, we continued playing our board games tournament.

Annoyingly Johan beat Vinka and was hailed the outright winner. Petra had made us

all medals from the lids from various empty food jars. Mine was the yellow lid from a

Marmite jar which was presented along with a kiss. What had got into this girl? I thanked

her awkwardly for my medal and told that I didn’t need consoling. Her face had turned

scarlet as she packed away her note book, stop watch and bell. I soon realised that I was

the cause of her upset and so tapped a glass with a spoon to get the attention of the other

players. I thanked Petra for being referee and gave her a medal made from a collection of

multicoloured sweet wrappers hung on a shoe lace, then firmly shook her hand. We all

cheered and her face reddened again but this time she looked happy.

The following day we were rested and fit for skiing again. Fresh powdery snow had fallen

during the night and I was given a different style of skis to use, wider than the cross country

skis I had previously worn. Powder snow skiing required less of a cutting edge from the

skis but more use of the legs for turning, another skill I needed to learn but got the hang

of quickly.

We used a series of drag lifts to take us high up the slopes. With clear blue skies I could see

for miles. It was difficult to believe that the world could be so vast. In this mountain range

I felt very small and insignificant against the might of this natural wonder.

After receiving a few tips I set off at the back of our group with Erik skiing alongside

me. I was immediately aware of the wonderful feeling of weightlessness. Then as I gained

speed soft powdery snow gently engulfed me like a fluffy white cloud, which continued tosurround me as I smoothly made my descent. It was an incredible experience which was

repeated several times during the morning, I did clip the odd edge and face planted into

powder a few times but then again so did everyone else..

It wasn’t until the light was due to fade and we headed back to the cars that my legs began

to register with my brain that they were aching. I noted others in the vehicle were also

massaging their thigh muscles. It was likely that when back at the lodge there would be a

race to get to the bathroom first for a long hot soak in the tub, but I was determined to be

the person at the front of the queue.

However, as Lars parked the car and got out of his driver’s seat I heard the clunk of the car

doors locking. He had foiled us all! Dropping the car keys in the snow he turned to face

his passengers and grinned, tapped the side of his nose several times then made his way

upstairs to begin his ablutions. We had to wait until the other car got back and a bemused

Erik retrieved the keys from the ground and released us.

With a mixture of laughter and groans I hobbled up the path and into the lodge. Greta had

already prepared a tray of mugs of marshmallow topped hot chocolate. The youngsters had

chocolate flakes in ours which were already deliciously melting into the drinks. Judging by

the appreciative slurps from the adults I assumed brandy had been added to theirs.

When Lars reappeared, face still glowing from his steaming bath, he was met by a hail of

newspaper snowballs thrown by the whole family. He feebly took cover behind a settee

and a very one sided attack on him ensued. Eventually he raised his hand holding a white

handkerchief and he took the walk of shame accompanied by a loud chorus of boos, as he

slinked his way over to the dinner table.

Several of us had a sauna to help aid our aching muscles and a role in the snow. The

evening meal, being the last of the holiday, had several courses each tasting amazing. We

sat together talking and joking late into the night until I eventually climbed the stairs to

pack my suitcase and fall sleepily into bed.

The drive to the ferry port the following day was a very subdued affair. Still tired from the

previous day Johan and I hardly spoke a word. At times I felt my head falling forward and

my chin dropping towards my knees, then jerk itself abruptly back into a normal position,

only to fall forward again. I fought to keep my eyes open and take in the scenery, but my

eye lids felt heavy. I tried to prise my eyelids apart with my thumb and forefingers but they

felt dry and longed to shut again. I gave way to sleep, along with my snoozing best friend

next to me.

Onboard the ferry Johan and I headed to the cinema to watch the newly released James

Bond film, ‘Live and Let Die’ starring Roger Moore and Jane Seymour. Securing seats

with a clear view of the screen we tucked into our pop corn. The cinema quickly filled. As

the adverts came to an end and the lights began to dim the two tallest people imaginablefumbled their way along the row of seats and sat directly in front of us. There wasn’t even a

the usual ‘V’ shape between their heads and their shoulders to peer through, we were just

faced with a large expanse of their backs.

A kind couple sitting behind us offered to exchange seats. With no wish to disturb other

people along the row we climbed over the back of seats and into our new places. Holding

tightly to the bottom of her dress the lady in a very undignified manner clambered into

position, luckily the cinema was by then in complete darkness. In a slightly higher position

we could just about see over the heads of those in front. Her knee, catching my tub of

popcorn in the process, sent the contents flying high into the air spraying several people

in the near vicinity. They all willingly tucked in, thanking her while commiserating with

me, who was left with just the hard corn kernels in a pile of salt at the bottom of the carton.

Johan fell about laughing and put his hand over the top of his tub to prevent me from

sharing his well stocked supply. The lady next to me perched her handbag on the armrest

between our chairs, which I thought was a bit annoying until she nudged me, nodded

towards her bag and told me to tuck in. Her hand bag was like a tardis containing chocolate

buttons, ‘Crunchie’ and ‘Mars’ bars. Had she not been older than my grandma I would have

considered heeding my mother’s warning about taking gifts from strangers, but I pondered

the dilemma for all of three seconds and chose to feast happily throughout the film.

During the action packed film I witnessed the best stunt I had ever seen performed, as

James Bond jumped across the backs of three crocodiles. Even the audience applauded,

which seemed a bit odd as it was highly unlikely that anyone from the film’s credit list

would have been on that particular car ferry to hear the appreciation.

When the film ended there was only a couple of hours to go before disembarkation, so we

grabbed a ham sandwich and made our way to the library and the reptile section. Johan

and I were keen to learn how the stunt was possible, given that the crocodiles would have

been wet they would surely have been slimy, or would the texture of their scales add grip

to the soles of Bond’s boots?. We ploughed through the difference in patterns and size of

scales between crocodiles and alligators and discovered that alligators were smoother, but

the answer to our query remained inconclusive.

As previously arranged we met up with Harry and Ingrid by the Duty Free shop. Ingrid

was smelling rather overwhelming fragrant with Harry pretending to choke by her side.

This action earned him a slap to the side of the head. Grasping a heavy carrier bag with

clinking bottles and a pile of cigarette cartons we made our way down the metal stairs to

the car deck.

It felt very odd to park on next door’s drive and not enter my old home. The curtains

were closed and the doors locked. There were no voices to be heard or signs of my family

living there. For a brief moment a wave of sadness filled my chest and Harry ruffled my

hair. Ingrid anticipating my thoughts said that my clothes and favourite things had beendeposited in the garden shed by my mother prior to her leaving.

We retrieved my cold and damp belongings and brought them into the spare bedroom. My

clothes smelled a bit musty and Ingrid kindly re washed them even before unpacking the

holiday cases. Determined to make me feel at home Johan took down one of his posters

from his bedroom wall and stuck it on the wall beside my new bed. I bit on my lip, kindness

at that precise moment seemed hard to accept.

As it turned out I lived with Johan and his parents for about six months until my mum,

Tim, Amanda and Tracey returned home, there had been a court case and all sorts had

gone on, fortunately for me it didn’t affect me, in fact things were great as I was living with

Johan and no Amanda to pester us.

Over the years Johan had come with us down to Peacehaven to my grandparents and we

had some great weekends and half terms on the farm, going to the beach at Newhaven

or the Lido at Saltdean swimming with my cousins. Tim had spent most of the summer

holidays down there helping granddad on the farm when I was away in Sweden and I think

he wanted to be a farmer when he grew up.

Tim was very keen on farming and on a Wednesday evening he joined the Young Farmers

Club over at Oakland College. While my mum was down at Peacehaven after she left my

dad, Tim and Amanda went to the local school, Telscome junior school, Tim being ten

took the eleven plus, unfortunately for him he failed it which meant he couldn’t come to

the Grammar school but would have to go to the big comprehensive school instead.

My uncle Derek, my mum’s brother had gone to Haddam Hall which was a agricultural

boarding school before going to Plumpton College to study farming, I again felt for Tim as

he wasn’t quite in the right frame of mind as the breakup of our parents affected him, when

he took the entrance test he really struggled and failed to get the required marks.

This set Tim on a different course in life, it turned out that his first year at comprehensive

school he was put in the bottom set with some quite disruptive kids and learning anything

was almost non existent, by the time Tim was thirteen he left Sea Cadets and joined the

Army Cadets, this helped Tim a lot and gave him a new focus in what he wanted to do

with his life.

By the end of June I had moved back in with my mum and siblings in our old house but

still spent most of my time with Johan, for me life had been stable unlike the others whose

lives had been turned upside down with the breakup.

During the Easter school break Johan and I visited the farm to be briefly reunited with my

family. Johan and I carried rucksacks on our backs to Hitchin Railway station, boarded

the train and headed south to the coast. After several changes of trains and a few hours of

travelling we finally reached the five bar gate at the start of the lane leading to the farm.As we strolled along the winding track bird song could be heard from high up in the

trees, equally tuneful replies resounded from far across the fields. Until then I had no idea

that nature could produce such a wonderful orchestra. Smaller birds and rabbits scattered

within the hedgerow as we approached their hiding places, but as I looked back along the

path they reappeared as if to say nothing would disturb their tranquillity for long.

A brown pheasant slowly wandered through the stubble of a recently cut field of hay.

Dragging its long tail behind and with head pointing downwards it pecked at the ground

in search of grubs to eat. I thought it a shame that it didn’t prefer the taste of flies, as

there were plenty of those readily available, especially the big juicy black ones buzzing

annoyingly around my face. Suddenly two hares, much larger than rabbits, about the size

of a small dog, darted out from the undergrowth and chased each other around a meadow

before disappearing into longer grass at the edge of an adjoining field. Being a ‘townie’ this

was incredibly lucky, as I had only heard of hares from the hunting magazines, found on

the high shelves in the newsagent which I flicked through and put back on the shelf.

As if that encounter wasn’t exciting enough the strangest sound came to my ears, it was

a cross between a prolonged sniff and a cat bringing up a fur-ball. Busying itself close to

the hedge line, and true to its name, was a small hedgehog about the size of the length of

my hand but substantially more rounded. I stopped perfectly still to watch and listen to

this spiny creature. Fearless that it was being observed it stared at me through two small

sparkling black current sized eyes and continued shuffling along, seemingly without a care

in the world.

Johan did an impersonation of Johnny Morris, the zoo keeper presenter of the TV show

‘Animal Magic’ which cracked me up with laughter. Who needs to pay to go to a zoo when

all this wildlife is wandering about the countryside.

Now feeling hot, sweaty, hungry and irritated by being followed by clouds of flies, we

reached the farm house. A black and white collie dog spotted us first and barked excitedly

straining at its lead which was tied tightly to a wooden outdoor kennel. Then my sisters

rushed out of the house to greet us, quickly followed by my mother, who I was so pleased

to see.

My grandmother had prepared a ploughman’s lunch of freshly baked bread with chunks

of cheese and home made chutney. She stared at me while I ate commenting several times

about how much I had grown. I vowed never to do that when I became an adult as it was

such an obvious statement to make, requiring no more than one mention of the subject

and not a continuous commentary accompanied by staring throughout the meal. I soon

realised that it was well meant and just a thing adults did. Nan was utterly fabulous and

she had that lovely scented powder smell when she wrapped her arms about me for a

comforting hug.I looked out of the window to see if there was any sign of Tim, but only noticed a farm truck

driving about in a distant field and assumed it was Granddad. Amanda and Tracey proudly

showed me the aprons they had made with nan. The large stitching was in tact albeit a bit

wonky, and the front pocket of Tracey’s garment lay at an awkward angle, but in general

the aprons did in fact resemble recognisable clothing. Amanda’s ties were differing lengths

but they managed to form a bow at the back as desired. I told them how amazing they

looked and asked if they were also learning to cook. This was a cue for them to rummage

in the cupboards and retrieve bowls, wooden spoons and a weighing scale. Apparently the

girls were to be baking ginger bread men in time for tea. So Johan and I left the girls to

their baking session and we headed back out into the fields.

The truck in the far away field had turned and was heading in our direction. As it drove

closer I couldn’t see the familiar silhouette of Granddad at the wheel. In fact the closer the

truck got I oddly couldn’t see anyone at the wheel. Closer still and there appeared to be no

one in the right hand seat of the vehicle until a mop of dark brown hair came into view,

followed by the ear to ear grinning face of my younger brother. Tim’s nose couldn’t even

be seen above the centre point of the wheel but his eyes peered through the gaps in the

steering. He somehow managed to navigate his way through the series of gates linking the

fields together, then along the off-road track leading to a hay barn, where he proficiently

brought the truck to a halt next to where Johan and I were standing.

I looked through the side window of the vehicle and saw he was sat on a pile of cushions

and was perched forward on the edge of the seat so that on tip-toes he could reach the

pedals. However cumbersome this may have looked he managed to control the vehicle

and appeared to know what he was doing. Fancy that, my younger brother learning how

to drive.

Granddad climbed out from the back of the truck followed by two dogs, a scatty spaniel

and another collie. In equal haste Tim leapt out of the cabin and hurled himself at us both.

It felt so good to see him again, until the dogs realised that an excitable reunion was taking

place and they also wanted to be part of the action.

A Massey Ferguson tractor followed closely behind and my uncle Derek climbed down

from its cab. No sooner had we said hello we were then hoisted into the back of the tractor,

which seemed a long way off the ground. Tim and uncle Derek provided the running

commentary as we chugged around 300 acres of fields. I was shown hundreds of corrugated

metal shelters for the pigs, which I was informed suffer from sunburn so need shade.

I had assumed that pigs were all pink with curly tails, but this was not the case. The farm

did have the stereotypical pink variety but also others that looked as though they were

wearing rugby shirts with hoops of black around their backs. Others were rusty brown and

hairy and some had spots and disproportionally large floppy ears.

It was the first time I had got close to pigs and was surprised to see how massive they were.In all the years I had never really been onto the farm, I was content to keep what I thought

to be a safe distance away from them until Tim told me how fast they could run. If the size

of their teeth were anything to go by I wouldn’t have wanted a bite from one of them, but

Tim had no fear whatsoever and was blissfully carrying out his feeding duties without a

care in the world.

Starting at the field furthest away and working our way slowly back towards the farmhouse

we stopped at each block of pigsties. Using a bucket as a huge ladle we topped up the metal

food troughs. During term time my Granddad and Uncle collected bins of left over school

meals to feed to the pigs, but as the schools had closed for the Whitsun break the pigs’

dining arrangements had changed and they were temporarily fed with food slops acquired

from various hotels along the coast.

The pigs didn’t seem to mind what combination of food went into their troughs. Today it

was a mix of sausage rolls in puff pastry, (presumably beef not pork), seasonal vegetables,

custard with lumpy bits that looked a bit like sponge cake and lots of gravy in a variety of

shades of brown.

Tim knew exactly what amounts to give which type of pig. Some species were given a diet

entirely of grain and others a mix of grain and slops. Uncle Derek enjoyed sharing his

knowledge of how different food types fed to the pigs affected the flavour of the meat they

produced. I just knew I liked bacon sandwiches and thought the plump pig glaring at me

menacingly from the far end of the sty would be just perfect with a dollop of tomato sauce.

Tim seemed to act very naturally around the animals, but I felt a bit wary of them and the

pigs probably sensed this. Tim thought he would like to pursue a career in farming and

had his sights set on attending agricultural college when he was older and follow in Uncle

Derek’s footsteps. When I pointed out to him that whatever subject he wished to take

at college an entrance exam and school certificates would be required, he seemed taken

aback. Having totally switched off from school and didn’t want to discuss with me why he

played truant at every opportunity, he abruptly ended that topic of conversation

One of the best days spent that holiday was in a meadow taking turns to shoot at a stack

of cans balanced on a fallen tree trunk. We alternated between using an air rifle and a shot

gun. The shot gun was much heavier and gave a mighty kick back from the butt when fired.

We were supervised by either Granddad or Uncle Derek throughout the day, and they

made us keep a tally chart of how much ammunition we used. This log was needed not

only to account for how much ammunition was bought and how it was being used, but also

Tim had no option but to apply mathematics without realising he was actually attending a

lesson, albeit not in a classroom.

One morning Tim, Johan and I got up just before sun rise and crept downstairs to meet

Granddad who was already waiting for us in the kitchen. He told us not to make any noise

as we left the house to walk over to the largest meadow far away from the house, livestockor any lanes. As the sun rose so did the rabbits which were dotted around the field, nibbling

on grass, within just a few feet of us.

Granddad had brought one shot gun with him. As we were to shoot moving targets he

wanted to ensure that his attention was undivided. One shooter at a time we took our aim.

At the first shot the rabbits scattered everywhere. For the next half an hour we crouched

behind a hedge waiting for the rabbits to reappear. Surely one each to bring back for the

cooking pot would be an easy task, but how wrong I was. After several attempts there were

still no hits, not even an opening for ‘beginners luck’, absolutely nothing.

Feeling slightly disgruntled we made our way back towards the farmhouse with nothing

to show but a sulky lower lip. Granddad explained that not only did it require practice

and know how to hit a moving target, but also wind direction had a lot to do with how

the animals behaved around humans. Their hearing and sense of smell being far more

sensitive than ours we needed to learn patience, keep our distance and remain quiet. Those

words of wisdom seemed sort of obvious but his following challenge was a great leveller.

We had worked up an appetite and quickly devoured breakfast. Granddad promised to take

us out the following day for another try, but first we three lads were to practice walking in

the woods without making any noise from our footsteps. He and uncle Derek had some

work to be getting on with and we were to take up the challenge by ourselves.

With a round of sandwiches each, a packet of biscuits and couple of bottles of Tizer to share

we set off for the day. Finding woodland wasn’t a problem, there were trees everywhere. We

selected a section where my sisters wouldn’t find us.

Approaching the first row of trees our socks got entangled with brambles, screeching

expletives accompanied freeing ourselves from the barbs. Well that wasn’t a great start to

moving silently through a forest. We then tried taking ten paces at a time and pausing,

watching for a hand signal from Johan we took a further ten steps. The shuffling from our

feet could have woken the dead.

We tried individually taking steps and critiquing each other’s movements, it became

instantly clear that we were as equally bad as each other. Blaming our shoes for our poor

performance we removed our footwear and tried again, but still we hadn’t even reached

the trees. Heels down followed by slow lowering of the arches and onto the toes seemed to

be the quietest way forward, with or without shoes.

Balancing like ballerinas we made our way into the woods only to be met by a layer of

crunchy dried leaves and empty beech nut cases, noisy little beasts. We set ourselves a

start and end marker of about 50 paces. The challenge to reach the end without being

heard reminded me of the infant school playground game ‘Grandma’s footsteps’, except

this version took us all day to attempt without getting bored. Even the smallest of twigs

hidden beneath a layer of flattened leaves could snap under our weight sending the culpritback to the starting line. The best I could honestly say was that we improved, but to master

the challenge would take a lot more than our attention span would permit.

It was late in the day when the sounds of our stomachs rumbling exceeded any other

natural noises heard from the woods and we headed home. With the whole family seated

around the dinner table, my sister Jane asked if we were all OK and commented on how

quiet we all were. I could have kissed her but thought better of it.

The next morning, true to his word, I heard Granddad moving about downstairs just before

sunrise. Johan, Tim and I hurriedly got dressed and met him in the kitchen, where he went

through the ground rules again associated with being near guns and using live ammo.

We headed out together to the same field as we had been to the previous morning, but this

time we moved slower and quieter. As before the rabbits were munching in abundance. I

quietly waited for my turn with the shot gun, took aim and fired.

Granddad demonstrated how to gut and skin a rabbit without using a knife. This was not

a time to be squeamish, it was a case of just getting on with the job. The intestines needed

to be removed immediately as a fresh kill when still warm was a lot easier to deal with than

a cold one. Once the membrane over the flesh was located it was simple to slip my hand

inside, feel the smooth form of the body and turn the skin inside out revealing the meat.

We became very proficient at preparing the rabbits a great life skill.

We brought back four carcasses which pleased Nan. Before the rabbits could be cooked

we needed to wash them and remove any bits of shot left in the meat. Only then were they

ready to go into a massive pot resembling a witches cauldron.

My sisters wanted to help so they peeled carrots, potatoes and onions and cut the vegetables

into cubes, which were added to the pot along with tins of tomato soup. The final part of

the preparation was to snap off some tips of basil and rosemary grown in the herb garden

and sprinkle the fragrant herbs into the pot along with a good shake from the salt and

pepper cellars. The heavy pot was then left to gently simmer. Our meal that evening was

especially memorable as we had all contributed in some way to making the tasty stew.

It was happy moments like that which made it hard to say goodbye when the time came for

Johan and I to board the train and make our way back to Hitchin. Many more holidays at

the farm would follow, regardless of where the word ‘home’ happened to be over the years.

When we returned to school we took the end of year test in that last term before the

summer, Johan and I excelled and came top in almost all our classes, we even did well in

Religious studies, I think mainly because we challenged everything and had some lively

debates questioning everything.

That summer would be a bit different, we had Sea Cadet camp for the first week that wasspent on a power boat course learning to drive ribs as safety boats for the dinghy racing,

that was great fun. Before we returned home Johan’s aunt and uncle with Vinka, Marlin,

Ronnie and Petra had come over to stay for a couple of weeks. Vinka and Marlin spent

most of the time with Johan and I whilst Petra had spent some of the time with Amanda

and Tracey, I’m not totally convinced she got on with Amanda but she never said anything.

A week later we were all on our way to Sweden for a couple of weeks, I loved my summers

in Sweden. When we got onto the ship we were shown to our cabins and the four of us

Vinka, Marlin Johan and myself had a small four berth cabin to ourselves while Ronnie

and Petra shared a twin cabin, Harry, Ingrid, Erik and Anna had a double cabin each on

either side.

After we had shown Vinka, Marlin Ronnie and Petra around the ship we naturally ended

up in the library where we all spent most of our time reading to each other, Petra was

becoming very good with her English with speaking and reading, Ronnie was also quite

accomplished being that much older.

That first evening onboard we dressed for dinner, Ronnie had borrowed Johan’s second

pair of trousers, shirt, tie and blazer as in Sweden they don’t ware school uniforms, I must

say he did look the part, well and as for Marlin and Vinka we could hardly believe our eyes,

they had these extremely pretty dresses and looked stunning for eleven year old girls, I

think it was this moment that I fully fell in love with Vinka but kept it to myself, I suspected

Johan felt the same towards Marlin. Petra also looked very nice in her summer dress.

We called on their parents and went down to dinner that evening, we had a table of ten to

ourselves in the middle of the dining room, as always our manners were impeccable, when

we were leaving the dining room to go to the show several people stopped Harry and Erik

and commented what fine young people they had.

We went into the show and although the dancers had changed along with the comedian the

singer was the same, lucky for us when we went to have our coco the singer remembered us

from last year, we introduced Vinka, Marlin, Ronnie and Petra and had a wonderful time.

The following day after breakfast we went to the library and picked up where we left off

from the day before, later that morning the singer came and asked us to go to lunch with

her, which we were delighted too. We had a marvellous entertaining lunch and talked

about music and how she became a singer working on the ship. It turned out that her Uncle

owned the shipping line and this was her favourite ship. It was a long lunch and after we

returned to the library to continue reading and discussing what we were going to do with

our holiday being only two weeks, as it turned out we managed to have a few days on one

of the new boats from the Hallberg factory and the rest of the time was spent either on the

beach throwing a rugby ball about or the swimming hole, for some reason we always had

perfect weather in Sweden.All too soon we were on our way home again, the return journey was always a little sad

having had a fantastic time as always. Petra had asked if she could write to me to practice

her English and I promise to write back, and sure enough the day before we started back

at school the first letter had arrived from Petra. Of course Vinka and I had been writing to

each other for years as did Johan and Marlin.

She started by saying how much she enjoyed travelling with us and how she liked England

very much, and hoped to come over again. She particularly liked dressing for dinner and

going to the shows in the evening on the ship. While they stayed with us Johan and I had

donned our number one uniforms, Vinka and Marlin put on their best dresses to have

their pictures taken with us, everybody said what handsome couples we made.

She went on to say she couldn’t wait for Christmas when we could go skiing together again,

I was also looking forward to it. She finished up by telling me she was going to secondary

school that term and signed off with Love Petra. I wrote a reply that same day and managed

to get it in the post that afternoon, I said how lovely she looked all dressed up for dinner

and how I enjoyed her company and couldn’t wait for Christmas to go skiing again. We

continued to write to each other all through that autumn term finishing each letter with

Love Petra or Steve.

During that term my year group were given the opportunity to take part in an exchange

with pupils from schools in either Germany or France. Johan and I chose to go to Munster

in Germany. We boarded with a family who had twin boys, Axel and Henric.

It soon became evident that most pupils cycled to school as there were rows of racks

holding hundreds of bikes. Not having a school uniform seemed strange to us, also the

German school day started and ended later than at my school, but other than that the

actual lessons were similar to back home. Luckily for us we had already covered some of

the topics studied that week including mathematics, so were able to finish the work set

quickly which earned us extra recess time.

Munster was a British Garrison and German University town with most of the students at

the school spoke much better English than we spoke German, but by immersing ourselves

in the language we improved as the week went on. After school and over the weekend Axel

and Henric’s parents would take us sight seeing late into the evening. The city of Munster

was fascinating with its wonderful market square and historic buildings with domes and

towers.

We also visited a museums which were interesting then the zoo, but the thing that remained

implanted in my mind was the fact that the German family hosting us enjoyed, of all

things, Irish folk music and we were invited to accompany them to a ceilidh. I dutifully

said guten tag to everyone I met in the large community hall. With no knowledge of how

to dance to Irish music I just tried to follow everyone else. With a straight back, arms by

my side and lower legs flicking from the knee I strutted about to music played on a fiddle,tin whistle and a concertina. It certainly made a change from traditional German ‘Ompah’

music and was equally great fun.

A fortnight later Johan and I hosted Axel and Henric. Ingrid welcomed them and reverted

to speaking German to the boys. Harry almost got his own back on Ingrid. After years of

being prodded for his cheeky behaviour Harry now playfully nudged Ingrid as a reminder

that the boys were actually over here to refine their English. The response from Ingrid was

to retaliate with a less than gentle slap to the side of his head. He’ll never win. The boys

from the German school attended lessons with their various English hosts.

What immediately struck me was how they stood out like sore thumbs in their jeans and

colourful jumpers, against 1500 students wearing blazers and ties. Johan and I found

some spare uniforms for our two guests enabling them to blend in and move around the

corridors without being stared at as if they were zoo exhibits. As much as Axel and Henric

hated neck ties they appreciated the sentiment of lending them uniforms and were grateful

for their newly acquired low key image.

The two lads accompanied Johan and I to Sea Cadets. We quickly ascertained that Henric

had left cub scouts before his initiation period was completed as he hated anything

regimented. So to pacify him we went swimming at the local public swimming pool before

returning home.

The following evening Johan and I invited Axel and Henric to the rugby club for a practice

session. Axel was far from enthusiastic about playing sports but was fascinated about how

a game involving passing a ball backwards was played. It was fairly evident that being

tackled would not meet with his approval so I suggested they join in with a group of

younger kids running between lines of orange cones in a relay game, which they seemed

happy enough to do.

Johan and I finished our training early in favour of buying fish and chips wrapped in

newspaper. This British custom was a great hit with the boys. Using a Polaroid camera

they took several photos of each other eating and these pictures earned a place in their

scrapbook.

The next afternoon Harry and Ingrid suggested we hop on a train and then take the tube to

Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace and the many other London attractions that would

be lit up during the winter months. As the red double decker approached the bus stop Axel

and Henric’s eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. They had never seen a double decker

bus before and took no prompting to elbow each other out of the way to be the first one up

stairs and secure the front seats on the upper level. I re-evaluated my thoughts about Axel

not enjoying contact sports.

When we returned home later that night the boys laid on the lounge floor with piles of

precious Polaroid pictures to gum into their scrapbook - another sign of a successful day.Harry had bought them each a reel of film to fit standard cameras, which he would lend

to them. He promised to get the films developed within two days at the local pharmacy,

which offered a fast track film processing service.

Before going to bed that night I hid my own camera inside a T-shirt and put it behind a

draw string sports bag at the back of the wardrobe. I saw Johan through the crack in his

bedroom door also hide some of his special possessions. We seemed to have the same train

of thought of not wanting any breakages.

Over the weekend we were all treated to visits to the London Dungeons and the Madame

Tussaud’s waxwork museum. That weekend felt as good as if it were Christmas Day with

treats and wonderful fun things happening all around us. On the Friday evening the school

laid on a disco for all the exchange students which was a lot of fun, on the Saturday evening

Harry, Ingrid, Johan and I took Axel and Henric to our local Chinese for a meal, it had

been their first time, they said they liked it very much.

The lads returned to Germany early Sunday morning having had as much of a fabulous

school exchange, as we had enjoyed with them. Both families forged friendships which

continued for several years, but as we grew up the letter writing and Christmas cards

naturally fizzled out, but not the great memories of happy times.

Johan and I played rugby at the club and notched up another win, we were at the top of

our league and were looking at promotion next season if that is where we finished, as it

turns out we finished second and stayed in the same league, we didn’t mind we just loved

playing. Johan and I could switch positions just to confuse other teams, we could also even

drop back to full back.

Sunday evenings I would generally write a letter to Vinka telling all the things we had

done that week, I think she did the same as I received a letter from her on a Wednesday or

Thursday as she did with mine, we always signed off with Love Vinka or Steve.

That autumn term seemed to flash by, Johan and I were just loving school we were learning

so much, and as the Christmas break was nearing we couldn’t wait to fly off to Sweden

and see Vinka and Marlin to go skiing again. With all the rugby and Sea Cadets, running

around we were very fit for our age. Vinka, Marlin, Ronnie, Sven and Petra skied everyday

to school and back and this kept them fit, they also had ski racing during the winter

and in the summer and autumn terms they both did athletics, Vinka and Marlin were

good distance runners, they had also had their Aikido lessons, they knew how to handle

themselves, they were good at orienteering as well.

In the past we had mainly only done Nordic skiing and a bit of Telemark touring, this

year we were going to try some downhill skiing, well not quite we were going to move

onto proper Telemark skis, these were a bit like our touring skis but with a different type

of binding that had a wire that went round the back of the boot and wider skis and properstiff leather boots with buckle straps.

Stefan had taken us to the nearby slopes that had a drag lift and at first this new equipment

felt a little heavy and cumbersome, however a few runs down and being shown the new

technique of turning we really started to get the hang of it. This new skis and boots gave

a lot more control than our touring or nordic equipment. Because these skis have a waist

there are easier to turn, once we got the hang of bending the knees, one foot back the other

forward with free heels, at first it was hard on the thighs but we soon got the hang of it.

We spent four days on the slopes honing our new skills, on day five we sorted out our back

packs and some overnight stuff as we were going on a tour.

We set off the next morning with our backpacks loaded up with all the things we needed,

sleeping bags, food, extra clothes and torches. We were going to ski about ten miles to a hut

in the middle of no where and stop there for the night, this hut was small but could sleep

about ten people at a push, there was a table in the middle of the room with half a dozen

chairs, the fire place was opposite the entrance door with bunk beds around the walls,

there was a small stove next to the fire. A few steps outside was a small outhouse with an

earth toilet.

The first thing we did was to get the fire started, there was kindling provided with logs

stacked up outside, along with a box of matches, we were shone how to leave the matches

set up so anyone could take a match and strike it to light a fire without opening the box,

this could save a life if someones hands were frozen. We then got some water on for a brew

then cook some food. It was wonderful sitting around under the oil lamps just chatting

away about the day.

The following morning we were taught how to leave the hut the way we found it, first we

cleaned it then set the fire so anyone could light it in an emergency, we refilled the oil

lamps ready for use. It took us a few hours to return home, it was awesome, we had a great

time, unfortunately we had to fly back to England the very next day.

If it hadn’t been for Greta, Ingrid and Anna we might have forgotten our twelfth birthday,

we were having so much fun learning to Telemark ski and returning to the lodge each

evening for the obligatory sauna and roll in the snow before dinner. I couldn’t wait for next

year and to go skiing with the school.

As always it was so hard saying goodby to everyone, there were tears and hugs, hair ruffled

and smiles. fortunately this time it wasn’t going to be so long before we were together again

as Vinka and Marlin were coming to England at Easter with Erik, Anna, Petra and Ronnie.

We returned to school after the New Year and got back into the routine of lots of homework,

Sea Cadets and rugby. In mid February we set off for France and the Alps for the much

awaited ski trip, for Johan and I were pretty good skiers anyway but this was something

completely new to us, Alpine skiing.We boarded the coach in the school car park at six in the morning and departed for Dover,

there were six teachers and each were asigned seven puples, Johan and I were in Miss

Higgins group. Our group were sat at the back of the bus, Miss Higgins was sat with us,

during the journey so we only spoke French.

The coach stopped for a comfort break and for food just on the outskirts of Paris, I noticed

that Miss Higgins looked a little far away when we sat back on the coach, I shook her arm

and asked if she was alright, she came round and smiled saying she was just remembring,

I said what about, she replied oh the war, I said would you like to talk about it.

She said where do I start, I said the beginning? Well it was 1943 and I was eighteen, I

had just joined the FANY when Vera Atkins approched me and asked if I would like

to do something different, as I was interested she arranged an interview with Maurice

Buckmaster the head of SOE, before I knew it I was learning how to be a courier.

The training was intensive, she first went up to Scotland to a hunting lodge were she was

taught how to use different weapons and how to map read, there was lot of PT and long

hikes into the mountains, she was shown how to use explosives, how to use radios and

morse code and a lot of fieldcraft.

After that she went to Ringway and learnt to parachute, that was fun she said, then she

was sent to the New Forest to a stately home where she learnt a lot more stuff before she

was finally dropped into France in March 1944, not far from where we just stopped, it all

came back to her. Her job was to assist the local network prepare for the invasion, she

was a courier and most of the time she delivered messages or escaped POWs or downed

aircrew. She said she had a few close moments with the German check points and was

almost compromised.

When Paris was liberated she was in the thick of it with the resistance, delivering messaages

to the leaders and also weapons and ammo to key points. The 19th of August 1944 was

a fantastic day, the whole of Paris celebrated, it was crazy. She had a MID (Mention in

Despatches) she along side her war medals had been awarded the MBE by the King. She

was also awarded the Croix de Guerre from the French. She told us that our French was

coming along and with a bit more time we could pass as locals.

The first morning was a bit of a shock as we had arrived in the dark the night before, we

woke to clear sky’s and bright sunshine and the view of the mountains was something very

special, while we ate breakfast we saw the snow machines coming down off the slopes, our

teacher said that we would be going up there later. We all assembled in the lobby before a

head count then off to the ski shop and school to be fitted with boots, skis and poles, I can

tell you that the boots definitely weren’t telemark boots, they were heavy and clumsy to

walk around in and when we put the skis on that felt totally alien to us.Anyway after a while of wearing these boots and skis we did get use to them, our instructor

was French and didn’t have a great command of English but could just about get across

what he wanted us to do, after a couple of hours we put him out of his misery and continued

the week teaching us in French, for Johan and I this only improved our French, unlike a

couple of the other boys in our class who we had to translate for.

Once we had got use to the boots and skis Johan and I were naturals and found it relatively

easy to learn this new technique of skiing and progressed further and further up the

mountain. By the third day Johan and I were getting very good and so the groups were

split into smaller groups and those of us that had mastered it went off with a new instructor

who took us off piste a few times.

The second week we were asked if we wanted to try langlauf, as this look very much like

Telemark touring we decided to swap, this was the best thing we did, the boots were so

much more comfortable, the skis were lighter and we had free heels, funny thing was we

were the only two who wanted to do it, we had a new instructor all to ourselves.

He, Henri, was brilliant he saw that we were pretty good already and he spent the first day

perfecting our turning technique, when he was happy he took us off on some new runs and

a lot more off piste, arriving back in the hotel totally exhausted, we had dinner then went

to bed. After breakfast the next day we met with Henri again and he had a full day planned

for us but first he taught us how to put on and use skins, we weren’t going to use the lifts

today but skin up and ski down, we had a terrific day skiing off piste, most of the other kids

thought we were mad, we of course, knew different.

On the last day there was a tradition of a bit of a ski race where everyone took part including

us, however we elected to stay with our touring skis and boots, the real fun part was that

Johan and I came joint first over the two runs, the teachers and instructors couldn’t believe

it, of course we just accepted the fact we had an advantage of skiing before and had an

instructor all too ourselves.

Coming back on the coach Johan and I were sat with Miss Higgins and asked her where

she learnt her French, she told us that her father worked for the Foreign Office and was

at the British Embassy in Paris when he met her mother who was French, she grew up in

Paris and went to school there, just before the Germans invaded her father was recalled to

England and her and her mother went as well.

Back home with Easter approaching we took the decision not to go on Sea Cadet camp but

to spend the time with Vinka and Marlin as they were coming over for the break. We took

them up to London on the train to see the sites, they had a brilliant time. We managed to

go to the Imperial War Museum, Ronnie said he enjoyed it I’m not so sure about the girls.

We took a boat trip on the Thames up to Greenwich and went up to the Royal Observatory

and all stood on the Meridian.The next day we visited the Natural History and Science museums, what I like about the

science museum is that they are constantly changing the exhibits and again it was over all

too quickly.

While they were here we had a long chat with Harry and Erik about a plan we had for the

summer, we ask them if we could borrow a boat and take it off for a week by ourselves,

amazingly they said yes but put a few caveats in to which we all agreed.

Over the next couple of months I continued to write to Vinka and we wrote mostly about

our forth coming adventure making plans on where we wanted to go and what to see.

Vinka had agreed to be head chef, Marlin would be skipper in over all command and Johan

and I would be crew, we would also be the navigators.

Erik had sent over the charts and pilot books we would need, Johan and I spent many

hours studying these and worked out our routes drawing up passage and pilotage plans,

emergency scenarios and what to do’s, we had briefs for the others and a roster for the

watches.

Everything was set when we arrived and that evening we sat down with Olaf, Erik, Marlin,

Vinka and us then went through our plans to the very last detail, everyone was not only

happy but very impressed with our level of planning and then we got the green light to go

ahead.

Two days later we took charge of our vessel a Milsi one and having got a comprehensive

brief on all we needed to know about the boat, we slipped the berth after lunch and set

sail for our first anchorage for the night. That was a short sail of only five miles to that

anchorage as a shake down. We set the anchor and I dived on it to make sure it had set

correctly, we put the boat to bed and Vinka set too cooking dinner for us all, I thought to

myself I’m going to marry this wonderful cook one day.

After dinner Johan and I were on pot wash then we sat around and went through the plan

for the next day, we had a longer sail of some thirty miles through some narrow passages

to the next anchorage, the weather was absolutely perfect, the boat handled beautifully, we

dropped the sails then set the anchor and Johan dived to check it was set correctly.

A similar routine from the previous day where Vinka produced another spectacular meal,

Johan and I washed up and then we went over the plan for the following day, Marlin was a

great skipper and gave us clear instructions, not that we needed them as we were proficient

sailors anyway but we let her know we had confidence in her.

The next day was the most challenging of the trip as we would head out into the North

Atlantic and a short passage up the coast to our next anchorage. We couldn’t have asked for

better weather, forty miles in one day and what a day, we had dolphins escorting us part of

the way, perfect winds, a perfect sunset, brilliant.The next day we would be heading back towards Ellios as the day after we had to return

the boat but not before another fantastic sail and over night anchorage with an excellent

meal. Having had one of the best weeks of our lives we reluctantly handed the boat back.

We spent most of the time going to the swimming hole and the beach, we had brought a

new size 4 rugby ball with us to leave behind. Vinka and Marlin had quite a few of the local

kids playing touch rugby by now, they were very happy with the new ball. Some of the kids

were very good, it’s a real shame they don’t have more rugby in Sweden.

After the success of our great voyage we spent some time planning our winter expedition.

We had poured over the maps of the local area and identified a really good route that

wasn’t too challenging but at the same time it would be safe if the weather closed in on us.

We chatted with Olaf and Erik about our outlined plan for our four day three night

expedition and sorted out the dates when we would like to set out which meant clearing

it with Harry first so as to sort our flights, this way we would be back for Johan, Marlin,

Vinka and my birthday, it would mean arriving on the 16th December and skiing off on

the morning of the 17th to get back on the afternoon of the 20th.

Everyone agreed as long as we had done our planning as detailed as our sailing trip no

one objected. The next few months of the autumn term were very busy ones and we didn’t

have a lot of time to dedicate to planning but Marlin and Vinka were complete stars, of

course we continued to write every week and much was written about the planning for the

expedition.

Johan and I continued to do very well at school and on the rugby pitches as we played for

the school and the club, although Tim didn’t come to our school he did play for the club

and he was a very good scrum half and fly half come to think of it, he didn’t much like the

wing as it meant too much standing around he liked to be in the thick of it.

As the weeks flashed by and the Christmas expedition loomed, we had to start looking at

options for our next year where we could choose what subjects to take for GCSE, Johan

and I talked it over for a long time and agreed on what we would take and what we would

drop. As we were pretty much fluent in French and German we thought it a good idea at

the time to start a new language, well, two actually, Spanish and Arabic, time would tell if

we had been right. We did practice French and German just to keep up our skill level for

the exams.

We also dropped woodwork, metalwork and art but kept motor mechanics as this was very

useful, we had done well but we opted for more English literature and language along with

history and geography. This would give us a good education and maybe we would stay on

for A levels but that was a little way off yet.We finally flew out from Luton to Gothenburg on the 16th December armed with our plan

and when we arrived we sat down with Marlin and Vinka just to go over the final details

before presenting it to Olaf, Erik and Stefan, who again were impressed and gave their

permission for the great winter expedition to proceed.

That evening we prepared all of our kit and equipment, we had decided to take pulks

instead of back packs, we had two between the four of us, so we packed all the stores and

extra equipment we would need and had an early night ready for an early start at first light,

we only had seven hours of day light anyway and if we didn’t make the huts we would end

up skiing in the dark, which we had planned on doing anyway.

We woke before dawn the next morning and had a good breakfast prepared by Greta,

Johan’s grandmother, and with flasks of hot water and soup made we set off into the early

light as the sun was just coming up, it was magical skiing off in that crisp December

morning, Marlin and Johan took first go with pulks while Vinka and I blazed the trail, the

snow conditions were near perfect. We stopped after a couple of hours for a hot cup of tea

and to swap over the pulks.

We were using the heavy leather boots and Telemark touring skis with skins on as much

of the time the terrain was fairly flat with the occasional undulation, there was one long

descent after a bit of a climb, so off came the skins, it also required one of us behind each

of the pulks with a rope to help the descent so the ones in front didn’t get run over by the

pulk.

We pressed on for another couple of hours then stopped for lunch, by mid afternoon we

had covered the twelve miles to our first nights hut, the sun was just going down. These huts

are run for people to stop in while touring during the summer and winter. All the fixings

were there for us to light a fire and cook food. It was a lovely evening we just chatting away

in a right mix of Swedish, English, German and French as we had all been learning them

in school, we also practiced some dance steps, the girls love ballroom dancing.

We had a last cup of coco before climbing into our sleeping bags and falling asleep. We

had made the choice to leave before sun up the next morning to get a feel for skiing in the

dark, we had fifteen miles to go so this was a good plan, we cleaned the hut and left it as we

had found it and set off in the dark, I really enjoyed skiing in the dark, anyway the sun was

starting to come up to a spectacular morning.

As we skied that morning we chatted about the rest of the day and found a spot about half

way to the next hut, because we enjoyed skiing in the dark we had this idea to build a snow

hole to test our skills should the weather change on us, this was in the plan anyway.

We found the perfect spot and set too digging in, ensuring we kept all our gear to hand, it

took us a couple of hours to finish the snow hole, we even tested it out by all getting inside

and bring in all the stuff, using the pulks as a makeshift door to keep the weather out orwould have done if it had been nasty.

As dusk was drawing in we finished our meal and packed the pulks and set off into the

night, this was such a great idea, as we skied on we were treated to the most awesome

aurora borealis, the whole sky lit up and this spectacular phenomena lasted all the way to

our next hut for the night.

When we arrived at the hut about nine o’clock that night, there were a couple of people

already there, we all introduced ourselves and sorted out where we were going to sleep,

then made hot coco for everyone, we chatted about the aurora and just how lucky we were

to have had it all the way from our snow hole. We slept soundly that night after all the hard

work we put in during the day digging the snow hole.

The following morning we had another early start as we had about ten miles to go to get

back to the lodge, we carried on swapping the pulks around and stopping occasionally

for hot drinks and snacks. We arrived back at the lodge mid afternoon to a lot of warm

congratulations on our safe return, everyone was very impressed with us. After sorting out

all our stuff we all jumped into the sauna.

That evening was our birthday and Greta, Ingrid and Anna out did themselves this year as

we became proper teenagers turning thirteen. The next day was very relaxed sitting around

and talking about all manner of stuff, the conversation came round to the Easter holidays

and what plans were being made, Erik, Anna, Vinka, Marlin and Petra would come to

England and Johan and I were put in charge of entertaining them whilst they were with us.

The next few days we skied during the day and had saunas in the afternoon before dinner,

in the evenings we played board games, cards and sometimes had the radio on where

Johan and I gave a few dance lessons that we had learnt at school, but a lot of the time we

just talked and laughed.

Like all good things this holiday came to an end far too quickly for our liking, but we flew

back to England happy in the knowledge that we had Easter to look forward to again and

Johan and I were in charge of the itinerary, with three months to plan we would make it the

best holiday they could ever have, we could certainly improve on last Easter.

Johan and I spent hours and hours discussing and planning what we were going to do at

Easter, we already had the discussion back in Sweden who we were going to cater for, on a

couple of days it was everyone but most of the time it was just Marlin, Vinka and Petra, we

came up with a great events list.

Harry was still working for BRS and they had a Sports and Social club who organised

trips to all sorts of things, over that Easter, they had three trips that he managed to get us

booked on, the first was tickets to Twickenham to watch England against Scotland in the

five Nations and the Calcutta cup, so Harry took Marlin, Vinka, Petra, Tim, Johan and I.We walked round to the social club to meet the coach along with load of other people, it

was a full coach. Harry sat with a friend from work, Johan and Marlin sat together, Petra

sat by the window and Tim jumped in next to her which left me sitting next to Vinka.

Secretly I asked Tim if he would sit next to Petra, I hoped she would have a crush on him

instead of me, it didn’t happen, although they both got on well there wasn’t that spark

there, shame really. Anyway what a fantastic day we had, England won twenty eight to

three which made it even better.

The next day Johan and I played rugby round at the club and everyone came to watch

us, we both had a blinding game and both scored a try, normally if either of us scored

we would kick our own conversion it was a thing we did. We could also play at all three

positions nine, ten and fifteen plus we were good at kicking as well, we practiced all the

time. I’m happy to say we won the game and afterwards in the club house we had lunch

with everyone to round off the day.

Harry also managed to get a load of tickets to see The Mousetrap at St Martins theatre in

London. Ingrid, Harry, Anna, Erik, Petra, Marlin, Vinka, Johan, Tim and I, all went up on

a coach put on by the social club, again Tim sat next to Petra. The coach dropped us off

just round the corner from the theatre and picked us up after, what a fantastic play. By all

accounts they change the ending at every performance to keep people guessing who done

it.

Two days later we were all on another coach on our way back up to London to see Two

Cities at the Palace Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue, it was a brilliant musical and on the

way home on the coach we all were singing some of the songs from the show.

Johan and I took Marlin and Vinka up to London to watch the changing of the guard at

Buckingham Palace and then went to the Tower of London to see the Crown Jewels, after

that in the afternoon we took them and had Tea at Lyon’s Corner House in Piccadilly,

made famous in the book and film The Wooden Horse. A few years later the Lyon’s Corner

House closed for good in 1977 a great shame. We had a wonderful day out and returned

home very tired teenagers.

After their return to Sweden, Vinka and I continued to write to each other every week,

we were very fond of each other and always finished our letters with love. Vinka’s English

was improving and she spoke and wrote to me in perfect English and I spoke and wrote

to her in Swedish, for anyone that listened to us talk must have found it a very strange

conversation. My Swedish English dictionary was an enormous help.

Back at school after that holiday Johan and I were getting down to our studies and continued

to do very well, we had exams towards the end of term where we again were close to top in

most all of our subjects and received excellent reports.As a treat we were taken to Burton Men’s Outfitters where we hired Dinner Suits for our

upcoming summer holiday to Sweden, after Sea Cadet camp where we had a full week

sailing around the Solent was one of the best camps we had been on, we collected our hired

suits and headed off the catch the ship.

The first evening in the dining room we looked pretty awesome even though I say myself,

a proper couple of James Bond’s, our favourite singer was onboard again and joined us

for coco in the bar after the show, we told her of our trips to see the Mousetrap and Two

Cities, she was very impressed that we were so cultured, perhaps we should have had a dry

Martini instead shaken not stirred.

Again this year we were aloud to take a boat out for a week by ourselves, it was a wonderful

week with perfect weather, the great thing about sailing in Sweden is we don’t have to

worry about tides like we do in England, which made passage planning fairly easy. We did

last years route in reverse to make it more of a challenge.

We spent the rest of the holiday swimming and sunbathing on the beach throwing a rugby

ball about, however we did spend a few days at the lodge, it looks totally different in the

summer and we went for a few walks in the local area, we had an idea that next year we

would base ourselves in the lodge for a week or so and do some walking and camping, well

when I say camping we would do the hut to hut tour from the winter.

We talked about our winter holiday and came up with a plan that we would try a circular

route that we would use as a Recce for next summer, we put our ideas to Olaf and Erik

and they told us if we did the same level of planning as all our other trips they had no

objections, great we would get down to the details over the next few months.

We returned to our fourth year at Hitchin Grammar school and a few new subjects, mainly

Spanish and Arabic, at first we thought we might have bitten off more than we could chew,

that first term was a real struggle. The Spanish wasn’t so bad we started getting it slowly, but

the Arabic was a different ball game altogether, the Arabic script was a challenge, it turned

out that it wasn’t until the summer term the following year that we finally got to grips with

Arabic, don’t know why we struggled so much.

During that autumn term our work load had started to increase considerably from last

year, time management came into it’s own what with rugby now on a Saturday and Sea

Cadets on a Tuesday and Friday evening, it meant that a fare part of Sunday was spent on

homework just to keep up.

Vinka and I continued to write to each other every week on a Sunday, I loved reading her

letters on a Wednesday or Thursday when they arrived, she was doing exceptionally well at

her school and was top of her class in most subjects as was Marlin, both very bright girls.

We use to write about all sorts of things, what we had been doing at school, how we got on

at rugby, how she was getting on at aikido and her next grading, what Marlin and her gotup to, their orienteering competitions, I would tell of what Johan got up too, all that sort

of thing.

They were becoming beautiful intelligent fit young women and although I kept it to myself

I was madly in love with Vinka, it turned out later she had exactly the same feelings for

me and had done for years, in fact even before I first visited Sweden, Johan had talked so

much about me all the time, until I turned up that summer when we were seven years old,

she had a crush on me right from then.

Between 15 and 17 years of age most young people had an idea of what career paths they

would choose to pursue. Friends from my neighbourhood already had jobs lined up, others

from the rugby club were thinking of staying on at school and taking ‘A’ levels with a view

to going to university, others were destined for apprenticeships leading to qualifications

in specialist trades. The lads from my grammar school appeared programmed to achieve

high ‘A’ level results and sit the entrance exams for either Oxford, Cambridge or St Andrews

Universities’. The pressure to succeed was insane.

Across the North Sea a similar dilemma was taking place. Boys were conscripted into some

form of national service. (It was different for girls, who could volunteer but rulings on

conscription didn’t come into place until 2017). Twice a week I took a walk to the phone

box at the end of my street and made a phone call to Vinka. People living in the area got

to know who stood by the red phone box waiting for the phone to ring and how long their

call was likely to last, so between the houses they peered through curtains but retained

an element of privacy. My unofficial allotted time was on Thursday at 5pm and Sunday

at 7pm. Vinka and I consoled each other that if we didn’t know the answers to the exam

questions by now, then we never would.

Vinka knew that she wanted to use her knowledge of languages and felt ready to go into the

world of work now and not look at going to university for formal qualifications. Her parents,

Anna and Eric, were pressing her to carry on her studies and gain a degree. Thoughts were

spinning out of control in her head and our phone calls were filled with off-loading and

anguish. We both ended our calls with a resolution to do our best in the exams then take

each day as it came without looking too far ahead. The target distance ahead was only as

far as the end of summer term when we could meet up and evaluate a path into the future.

All those years of sitting in classrooms and studying came to the forefront when the ‘O’

level exams began. All the kids my age felt the same tension and there was a nervous energy

surrounding us as we entered the examination hall. Confronted with rows of unfamiliar

small tables evenly spaced we took our seats in alphabetical order as dictated by the chalk

markers on the floor. A small number of adult students who were either re-taking their

exams or studying later in life filled the seats in the back row.

There was an eerie silence as the closed test papers were placed in front of us with no clues

as to what lay inside the pages. We were then told to complete the front sheet with detailssuch as name, the date and examination number, I knew this so was guaranteed one mark

assuming the examiner could read my trembling handwriting. The huge clock at the front

of the room started to tick and in perfect synchronisation all students turned the first page

and began to write.

When I finished the last question, I looked up and saw that some of my classmates were

still writing and others were stairing into space with bored expressions on their faces, I

joined the latter pose. Eventually the invigilator announced that time was up and we filed

out of the hall still in silence. There were mixed emotions in the locker room. It was easy

to see who had revised the right topics and who had not from their facial expressions.

Beaming from ear to ear we both slung our bags over our shoulders and walked home with

a spring in our step.

All the schools in the area followed the same pattern of the older pupils only needing to go

in to school on the days they were sitting exams. The remainder of the days were to be used

for home study, but people of my age had part-time jobs or roamed the streets aimlessly.

It was during this term that we had an interview with the careers teacher who asked us

what we wanted to do when we left school next year, we both said that we wanted to

join the Royal Navy, the teacher said that we needed to apply sooner rather than later, so

arranged for us to go to the recruiting office the next week.

Johan and I had two days clear of exams and thought we would drop into the Royal Navy

recruitment office to see if there was anyone available to just chat to us about what we

needed to do if we were to enlist. We of course had a good idea as the staff at cadets had

already primed us. So, we decided to dress smartly and start as we meant to go on by

presenting ourselves in the best possible way.

We just happened to have picked the one day that the RN recruiters were unavailable

however, Royal Marine representatives were keen to welcome us and they set to work with

their best sales pitch commencing with a mug of tea and plate of toast. So far so good. After

an initial questioning session to confirm that we were of sound mind, could understand

English and weren’t on the run from prison, Johan and I were taken to separate interview

rooms.

A sergeant explained that the first step to joining either the Royal Navy or the Royal

Marines was to sit a test to ascertain what initial skill sets I had and which of the vast

number of jobs I may be best suited for. I hadn’t realised that so many career paths existed

in the forces. The expression ‘square peg in a round hole’ didn’t seem to exist as there were

slots for most recruits to slip into, if not, they could be moulded.

I showed the sergeant my last term’s school report with the results of my mock ‘O’ Levels.

His face lit up when he saw that I was to be sitting eleven exams with a very good chance

of getting A to C grades in all subjects. He asked me about my time in the Sea Cadets andseemed pleased that I was keen on sports, could ski, sail, played rugby and spoke usable

Swedish and could get by in French and German, and that we were also learning Spanish

and Arabic.

I mentioned that I was free all day and the Sergeant asked if I wished to get started on the

first stage of the process right away with no obligation to make a decision about joining up.

All I would need to do was sit an initial questions and answers test; I jumped at the chance.

I was sat behind a desk, a feeling I knew well, and given a wad of paper sheets stapled

together. The only instruction I got was to start as soon as he left the room and shout when

I had finished. I stretched my arms high above my head, took in some deep breaths, flexed

my fingers then started the test, most of questions had multiple choice options so ticking

boxes wasn’t too taxing.

Having completed the general knowledge test I was shown into a room with comfortable

chairs and handed another mug of tea. I was soon joined by Johan, who had also taken the

bait and was slowly being reeled in. We were again asked if we had time to watch a film

that would give us a better insight into the life as a Royal Marine. With no hesitation the

answer was a resounding ‘yes’.

The first film focussed on the Royal Marines training establishment at Lympstone. We

talked all the way through the film comparing it with some of the cadet courses we had

been on. At one point we even found ourselves cheering the lads on as they tackled the

assault course. The Sergeant appeared at the door and seemed pleased that we were already

getting involved. He sat in the room with us for a while and told us to carry on if we wanted

to talk so, we did just that. It became evident that he was ‘eaves dropping’ and his job was

done, we had been well and truly caught hook, line and sinker.

The envelope containing my first test result was attached to a long list of jobs which I

could consider if accepted into the Royal Marines. The next stage was a fitness test and

unsurprising there were two places available that afternoon. If I wanted to go home and

fetch my gym kit and be back by 1430 I could complete the initial interview stage that same

day. Johan received an identical letter and without hesitation we both told the Sergeant

that we would see him later.

Luckily a bus heading towards home was approaching the stop just as we left the

recruitment office. The timing was perfect. We arrived home in plenty of time to gather

our kit together, grab a sandwich and water bottle then catch the bus returning to the office

for 1415. With fifteen minutes to spare we reported to the Sergeant who now dropped the

words Royal Navy and only referred to the Royal Marines, he also included Johan and I

when he referred to ‘we’. The crafty bugger knew we were keen to join up and had already

switched our allegiance.

A few laps of a sports field followed by some press ups, sit ups and pull ups didn’t worry

either of us. It was no different to rugby training, but we were advised to increase ourrunning distances and stay off beer and cigarettes. That last piece of advice wouldn’t be

hard. It would also help us going forward if our running circuit included some hills, so we

agreed that Rawlings Hill would now feature on our daily runs.

The Sergeant discussed the opportunity of going along to Lympstone in Devon for a one

week taster session, instead of the usual one week work experience most students at our

school would experience in local business settings. I liked the sound of that and asked him

to reserve a place for me, Johan also expressed his interest. The day concluded with a pack

to hand to our career’s teacher at school and also forms for our parents to sign.

As we stepped out of the office and onto the pavement of the busy High Street I suddenly

felt very grown up. With long confident strides we both ignored the bus stop and walked

home, in step, until we got to the phone box at the corner of our street, then sprinted to be

the first one to call the girls. Johan was talking on the phone for ages to Marlin and I tapped

on the glass panels and pointed to my watch. He in turn pointed to me and made another

hand gesture, laughing I wandered over to the phone box in the neighbouring street and

joined the short queue.

I had so much to tell Vinka, she was listening intensively, and I could hear from her voice

that she was excited for me. We talked at lengths of the pros and cons and after over an hour,

and all my loose change gone, we reluctantly said goodbye, but not before and exchange of

who was to put the phone receiver down first, which was stupid but quite cute in a yucky

kind of way.

The next day I was back in school for an exam and so handed my forms to Mr Grey to

sign-off. Mum had already signed her agreement for me to go to Lympstone and so it

should have been a quick conversation. However, Mr Grey was amazed that neither Johan

nor I had shown any interest in going to University. I took the view that money was short

at home and it would be a huge expense. Mr Grey answered that objection with details of

a grant scheme for gifted pupils, if my grades continued to be excellent then the school

would put my name forward for sponsorship. Johan put the view to Mr Grey that he felt

ready for change and the need to be treated as a man not a child. An explanation from Mr

Grey followed that Sixth Form students were given certain privileges that younger pupils

had not yet earned and in the Sixth Form we would have more freedom to come and go

from the school premises and be treated as young adults by the staff.

What should have been a quick handing over of an envelope turned out to be more of a

tug-of-war contest between conflicting mind sets. Luckily the bell rang indicating that

lessons were about to commence and as Mr Grey adjusted the collar of his black teaching

gown, turned and walked off in the direction of the Maths classrooms. As he did so Mr

Grey waved the forms in his right hand above his head and we heard him say ‘OK you

two’. I breathed a sigh of relief and made my way to the exam hall just in time to join the

last candidates in the line waiting to be called forward to take their places behind the solo

desks.Two weeks later a letter arrived with joining instructions for the Royal Marines training

centre at Lympstone, together with train tickets and a modest kit list. Thankfully I had

all the kit required and the staff at Sea Cadets were thrilled that two of their cadets were

planning a career in the forces. I will always be grateful for the support and advice given to

me by the instructors who selflessly gave up their time and knowledge to help me through

my difficult younger years and assist me in shaping my life to become the best version of

an adult I could be.

On arrival at Lympstone Johan and I were separated into different training groups. I was

glad of this because had he been standing next to me on the first day’s parade I feel my

sides would have split laughing and I would have been marched off the parade square and

sent back home with a naughty note for the teacher.

Other newbies and I had been standing in ranks waiting for a Lieutenant to give us his

introductory speech. His opening words to the uniformed Royal Marine instructors sounded

like ‘wood yoow chaps mayned orflay if …….’ I heard no more because the clenching of

my jaw to prevent a guffaw leaving my mouth muffled the sound of his exceptionally ‘plum

in the mouth’ voice. He sounded like the actor Kenneth Williams in a fictional episode of

‘Carry on Cadets’. I really hoped that we weren’t to be given elocution lessons because I

don’t think I could ever walk alongside the docks ever again. Kids brought up in the slums

just didn’t talk like that. A Corporal noticed the look on my face and I was told to smarten

up and stop moving. I was conscious of my facial muscles twitching and the more I tried

to control them the worse it got.

The week was filled with physical exercise, team building activities, problem solving,

sessions on the rifle ranges, kayaking, power boating, abseiling and I came away with a first

aid certificate, so it was a hard but exhilarating week. I loved every second and I quickly

learned to respect all those who wore the uniform of the Royal Marines.

On the last day, even more keen to enlist if that were at all possible, I collected my pack

of forms to read through with my parents and for them to then authorise. Harry was

nominated as the second signatory as my dad was nowhere to be found, not that my mum

or any of us had been looking for him. A medical followed, which I passed, and then after

another interview. It was then my turn to take the oath and sign along the dotted line. All

I had to do then was wait for my 17th birthday, that step in the process I could do nothing

about or influence in any way.

While Johan and I were at Lympstone the PT staff gave us some instruction on what we

needed to do to prepare physically before joining Lympstone, it involved lots of running,

press ups, pull ups, sit ups, swimming and lots of other exercises that would get us to the

right standard to pass the course in the New Year, Johan and I took this very seriously and

trained all the time, we even used the gym at school, the PE teacher gave us lots of help.It was during the Easter break of my final year from secondary school that I revisited

the most popular tourist attractions in London. Without any doubt the most attractive

sight I had seen in a long while was the vision of Vinka and Marlin walking through the

arrivals lounge at Heathrow airport. It was easy to spot Vinka with her long blond ponytail

swishing from side to side and dragging her suitcase behind her. Her sprayed on blue jeans

and equally tight denim waste coat was the sexiest outfit I’d encountered for a while, or

rather the way she moved made her whole-body scream ‘look all you like but don’t touch’.

Vinka’s piercing blue eyes shone with happiness as she approached and she threw her arms

around my neck and kissed me, my knees went numb, resulting in my feet not seeming

to want to work in conjunction with the rest of my legs. I stumbled forward like a person

worse for drink with slurred speech to match. I was aware of speaking gibberish and my

face burning red hot. My forehead and arm pits sweating profusely, how on earth did film

stars manage to control their emotions while working with the most beautiful women in

the world? Note to self, don’t ask Harry, he won’t have a clue.

Not wanting to break away from Vinka’s hold I could see over her shoulder Marlin, almost

her double but with brunette hair. The rear view of these gorgeous girls was even better

than the model in the tennis player poster which most young men of my age had stuck

to their bedroom walls. I assume that Johan was equally enjoying the friendly welcome as

he was also wrapped in an embrace with a ‘what on earth do I do now?’ Look on his face.

I then noticed Petra. If steam could appear from a human, not just in a cartoon format, then

Petra would have produced enough heat to stoke a road-roller and lay a mile of tarmac.

Oh crikey, she was not impressed. I reached inside my trouser pocket and found a sweet.

This would have pacified one of my little sisters but unfortunately Petra was at an age when

fluff stuck to a partly opened toffee wrapper was no longer appealing. Personally, I would

have eaten it and just picked out the grotty bits, but my intended kind gesture only seemed

to make matters worse. I grabbed Petra and asked how my best girl was, then launched

her high in the air catching her dramatically and planted a squelchy kiss on her cheek. She

screamed and blushed bright pink, which I think was a good sign.

Ingrid had accompanied us and found a phone box to let her sister, Anna, know that Vinka

and Petra had arrived safely and were now about to catch a train to Hitchin. A similar

phone call was also made to Marlin’s parents, Sylvi and Lars. Johan was snuggled up close to

Marlin on the train whilst I was sandwiched between Vinka and Petra, I favoured leaning in

one direction but was being dragged back at regular intervals towards the other competing

sister. I wondered if my shoulder sockets would survive the forthcoming fortnight. Ingrid

uncomfortably twiddled her thumbs and looked for her usual target, Harry, who had been

at work that day,

Back at Johan’s house I did my best to encourage my sisters to entertain Petra, which they

managed to do reasonably well. Johan and I were sharing a room during the girls’ stay,

Vinka and her younger sister Petra were given my room and Marlin the guest’s room.After the first night however, Petra stayed next door with my sisters leaving the older girls

to have a room each to themselves in Johan’s house. I made excuses to make frequent trips

to select clothes from my wardrobe and chest of drawers, as did Johan, despite him not

having any of his clothes hanging in the spare room. There was always something that may

need adjusting or a sash window in need of additional strength to open.

Like excited moths around dazzling light bulbs Johan and I were drawn towards the two

girls but were wafted away by Ingrid who kept guard over them as vigilantly as the Yeoman

Guards over the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London, which we visited on the first day

of the holiday. During that day out, we walked for miles over the cobbled streets and went

inside every tower, the best of course being the chamber where the actual Crown jewels

were housed. The girls saw the beauty in every stone whilst I just thought how heavy and

uncomfortable wearing any of the crowns would have been.

The huge black ravens paraded menacingly on the lawns adjacent to the tower housing

the jewels, it was easy to see how their angry expressions earned ravens starring roles

alongside evil witches in many of the Walt Disney’s films.

Having visited many of London’s top 50 tourist attractions several times Johan and I could

find our way around quite well, it didn’t take much to persuade Ingrid to let us continue

sightseeing alone during the remainder of the girls’ stay. Petra of course being a girl was

included in our outings and made a stricter chaperone than any of the great aunts in a Jane

Austin novel.

The only time we managed to give Petra the slip was when queuing for tickets to watch

‘The Sting’ starring Paul Newman and Robert Redford. A couple of the younger female sea

cadets recognised Johan and myself, left their spaces ahead of us in the line and came over

to join us. Fascinated to meet a girl their age from Sweden and wanting to know all about

her they quickly built up a friendship and asked if Petra could sit with them. In an older

sisterly way Vinka thought for a moment then gave her permission, but insisted Petra didn’t

leave her seat until the end of the film when we would come to find her. Twenty minutes of

adverts followed by two hours and 9 minutes of absolute bliss ensued I remember nothing

about the film but plenty about the gorgeous girl sat next to me.

The weather was perfect for walking along the River Thames and lazing around in many

of the city parks. Under the shade of the trees, we continued our endless talks out of the

gaze of the sun. Sometimes the girls Petra had befriended at the cinema arranged to join

us. Preferring to engage themselves in different conversations they chose to sit in a huddle

away from Vinka and I, while Marlin and Johan also found the shade of a tree of their own.

Glancing over from time to time I could see a tangle of feet through the long grass and

was informed later that Johan had lost a ten-shilling note from his wallet, but what he

discovered was far better than anything money could buy. Not that a gentlemen told, but

his face said all that I needed to know.My own attempt at romance wasn’t advancing quite so well. Lost in translation about

feelings of hunger I assumed Vinka had pangs for a penny worth of chips. During my

teenage years I never seemed to feel full and needed little persuasion to eat at any time

or during any situation. Whatever longings I had gave way to two bags of spuds with a

sprinkling of salt and dowsing of ‘Sarsons’ vinegar.

Note to self. Women come in all shapes and sizes and with beautiful qualities unique to

themselves. However, the very slim ones don’t normally dampen their ardour with a fry

up. How I ever survived childhood and teenage years I’ll never know.

That spring term of 1972 saw Johan and I spending most of our time revising for our

GCSE’s and ‘O’ levels of which we were taking eleven exams, we did well in our mock

exams the previous summer and were expected to do well. After Easter the exams started

for real and we only had to go into school to sit the exams the rest of the time was spent

revising.

In contrast to Swedish and American schools there were no elaborate parties, or proms as

the yanks called them, at the end of the academic year at my Grammar School. On the day

of the exam results being published my year group just turned up to the school hall, looked

for our names on the display boards and read across to see our exam grades. I got straight

‘A’s as did Johan we were very happy, but the thrill of being accepted for Royal Marine

training was all we really cared about.

While others politely shook hands and left the hall with shouts of ‘see you next term’, I

shook hands and uttered a simple ‘goodbye’. Looking back this seemed a very abrupt way

to end 10 years of education. It didn’t dawn on any of my classmates that I was actually

leaving the school and my teachers were for once speechless.

I wondered if Ronnie had got the same look of disbelief when he left his school two years

previously to work in the boat yard at Ellios with his father. He had also completed his

National Service and was able to pass on plenty of tips to Vinka who, although proud to

serve her country just wanted to continue her love for languages and go out to work. She

had taken French, German, Spanish, Japanese and Arabic as did Marlin.

We took our last exam on the 10th of June and had been planning to go to Sweden early

by ourselves but with a difference, as Marlin and Vinka didn’t finish their school until late

July, so we had a plan to do our own Grand Tour of Europe and take four weeks to travel

to Sweden.

We had been planning this for a long time and our parents had agreed to let us go on our

own, we were sixteen after all. The rough out line plan was we saved up and brought what

was called a European Train Pass which effectively was a month train ticket which aloud

you to go any where in Europe by train. We had been saving for this trip for quite sometime washing many cars over the years.

We packed our back packs and caught the train from Hitchin to London then got the

underground to Charing Cross for the train to Dover. At Dover we boarded a ferry to

Calais where our European train ticket started, our first train took us to Paris where we had

a guest house booked in the Arabic quarter, with a lively cafe seen. We found it interesting

listening to the mix of French and Arabic being spoken.

We came up with this what we called the escape game, basically we pretended to be

prisoners of war on the run having escaped from the POW camp, the idea being to try and

blend in and make like locals, with us being reasonably fluent in French, German and now

a good basic Arabic and Spanish it made for a great fun game.

We had a couple of days in Paris and did all the normal tourist hot spots, like the Louvre

museum, the Arch de Triumph, the Champs Elysees and Notre Dame but we didn’t see

Quasi Modo, I think it was his day off but did indulge in the cafe culture.

We brought a couple of French berets to look very French as we tried to blend in. On the

third morning we boarded the new Aquitaine express train for Bordeaux, The train was

named after the region of Aquitaine, of which Bordeaux is the capital. We had booked a

little guest château on a vineyard in the Medoc region just outside the village of Pauillac,

which is situated on the west bank of the Geronne river. We had a night there but after

chatting with the owner Claude he told us that this estate was used as a safe house during

the war by SOE and the Resistance.

We immediately asked if he would give us an extra night and would he give us a tour of the

area and how they operated during the war, he agreed. He was a charming man born in

1930 and inherited the vineyard from his father who had been murdered by the German’s

just before the end of the war. Claude said that he had a son our age but he was away on a

school trip, his wife Edith looked after us just like a son.

The following day he showed us all the hiding places where agents from England had

operated, he even had a cash of weapons and ammunition, there were pistols, Sten guns,

Bren guns, mills grenades and bullets, all hidden behind a false wall in one of his barns, he

said he had asked the authorities to collect them, he was still waiting.

He also gave us a full tour of his vineyard and the process of how he made his wine,

we learnt all about the wine and how vintages are developed and gave us a tasting and

explained the difference between a good and an exceptional wine. He explained there is a

big difference in the wines across the region. He invited us in for supper and to drink some

exceptional wines, I fell in love with Pauillac from that day to this.

We continued our talk well into the night and listened to his stories and how close he had

come to being taken prisoner by the Germans and how the agents would turn up withescaping POW’s, it was truly a magical evening, we finally retired to bed slightly well oiled

that night, the following day unfortunately we had to move on.

Claud insisted on driving us to the Gare station in Bordeaux, Edith gave us a bottle of wine

and some bread and cheese for our journey, we bid him a fond farewell and boarded the

train for Irun on the Spanish border where we would change trains to Burgos, this took us

an age, it was a slow train, but we enjoyed the journey eating and drinking the provisions

Edith had given us.

We found a small hotel close to the station in Burgos and booked in for the night, we had a

plan for the next few days, in history we covered the Peninsular War in great detail and we

had planned on visiting some of the battle sites. We had a stroke of luck that evening when

we sat in the restaurant. Whilst playing the escape game trying to blend in speaking our

school boy Spanish, on the table next to us just happened to be a Spanish historian who

asked us what we were doing there.

We told him in our best school boy Spanish that we wanted to visit some of the battle sites

of the Napoleonic wars, he told us he would meet us the following morning for breakfast

and give us a guided tour of the local sites. Over the next four days he drove us all over the

place, the first place was just outside Burgos and on 10 November 1808 in the village of

Gamonal, near Burgos the French beat the Spanish leaving the way open to Madrid.

At the siege of Burgos, from 19 September to 21 October 1812, the Anglo-Portuguese

Army led by General Arthur Wellesley, tried to capture the castle of Burgos from its French

garrison under the command of General Jean-Louis Dubreton. The French repulsed every

attempt to seize the fortress, resulting in Wellington’s withdrawal.

Mendas was a font of knowledge all things Napoleonic, in his house he had a room with

a lot of artefacts from some of the battles, the next morning we walked to the site of the

battle of Salamanca, he brought to life the history we had learnt back in school and the

commentary from Mendas was brilliant. He showed us where The Eagle of the French

62nd Line (Thomières) was captured by Lieutenant Pearce of the 2nd Battalion 44th East

Essex Regiment, later Johan and I would serve in the now Royal Anglian Regiment, they

still have that Eagle to this day, which is kept in Chelmsford.

After lunch we drove to Talavera then Ciudad Rodrigo and the two great battles, again his

commentary just brought everything to life. That evening a friend of his in Villa Formosa

on the Portuguese border put us up and the following morning was going to take us to

Porto for a tour of the port Sellers and where Wellington had garrisoned his Army over

winter.

Hosta gave us an excellent tour on our way to Porto where we all stopped in a guest house

for the night, in the morning we had a tour of a couple of the port Sellers and of course the

obligatory tasting after, I’m still a port fan to this day. After lunch Hosta dropped us off atthe train station where we caught a train to Lisbon.

We only stopped the night in a little hotel near the station in Lisbon before catching an

early train to Barcelona in the morning, this train took us to Madrid where we changed

trains for Barcelona. We had a hotel booked for the night and spent the evening wandering

down Les Ramblas looking at all the sights and finding a restaurant to have dinner.

Everyday when we woke up and every evening before we went to bed we would do at least

one hundred press ups and sit ups and would go for a run when we could to maintain our

fitness levels, not easy when you are on your travels.

The next morning we left Barcelona and headed to Lyon and back into France, from there

we changed trains again then heading for Geneva where we had pre-booked a guest house

for the night before continuing on to Munich, where we had another guest house booked

for two nights.

After an uneventful journey we arrived in Munich and found the guest house and settled

in, that evening we were going to the Famous Hofbrauhus, we arrived there about seven

in the evening and found a table and ordered two large beers, well two one litre massive

glasses of beer were put down in front of us, we did only manage the one each.

We also ordered the pork stake and mash, it was to die for, it took us most of the evening

to finish the beers but the atmosphere when the Ompah band played was electric, we had a

wonderful time and returned the following evening and that was every bit as good. While

we sat there we tried to imagine what it would have been like before and during the war

when the Brown Shirts ruled and intimidated all and sundry.

We had spent the day visiting all the sites where the Nazi Party had it’s headquarters during

the 1930’s and 40’s. We went to the The Feldherrnhalle, also known as Field Marshal’s

Hall, we visited the Königsplatz, Odeonsplatz and Old Town Hall all of which had been

important landmarks for the Nazi Party. We went to the museum and generally made like

tourist all the while still playing the escape game.

It was time to move on and so we caught an early train to Nuremberg for a brief couple

of hours to visit the Palace of Justice and the Nuremberg Trials courts which we found

fascinating. We then got on a train to Wurzberg for a visit to the Volkswagen factory the

following day.

At the Volkswagen factory we found out that if it hadn’t been for a very enterprising British

Officer after the war there wouldn’t have been a factory at all, it was all down to this young

Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineer Officer pleading with the powers that be to keep

the factory going and to build the Beatle or Volkswagen, his plan worked and the factory

continues to this day.The next day we set off for Hamburg for a night before making our way to Denmark and

then onto Sweden. We stopped in a dingy hotel not far from the Reaper Bahn, we went

window shopping, it was a bit of an eye opener, we weren’t tempted at all. The train from

Hamburg took us to Puttgarden where they put the train onto the ferry to Rodby on the

southern tip of Denmark where the train continued on to Copenhagen.

We stayed a couple of days in Copenhagen doing the tourist thing, we visited the Little

Mermaid, the Tivoli Gardens and the Danish War museum, the Citadel and Amalienborg

where His Majesty The King’s winter residence is. The weather was perfect, we took the

train from Copenhagen to Frederikshavn via Fredericia before catching the ferry to

Gothenburg where Olaf picked us up from the ferry terminal.

We had been on the road, well rail actually for almost four weeks and had a brilliant time,

bearing in mind we were only sixteen after all, and to under take such a great adventure was

pretty amazing. Johan and I had kept up our training while we travelled around Europe as

best we could, we did at least a hundred press ups and sit ups as well as running when we

could most days.

Johan and I said that we needed to keep up our training everyday in our letters, fortunately

the girls said they would join us which would make it more fun. When we met them at

Olaf ’s house when we arrived they couldn’t believe their eyes at the sight of us two gods in

front of them, for we had bulked up a lot since Easter. Over the next few weeks not only

did they keep their word and join in with our training but they were quite fit themselves.

That first weekend was a special one for the girls, they had graduated high school and as

is the tradition in Sweden all those graduating have a massive party where they dress in

traditional costumes and celebrate, we were honoured to be asked to join them and their

friends, to blend in we borrowed some traditional dress, we had a wonderful time partying

the weekend away.

Olaf and Erik had secured Ronnie an apprenticeship at the Hallberg factory a couple of

years previous, unfortunately he was not going to join Marlin, Vinka, Johan and I on our

great summer expedition into the wilds of Sweden, he was of course very disappointed but

his apprenticeship was something he wanted more than anything. He had done his national

service and was back working his apprenticeship. Because he had an apprenticeship he

only had to do his six weeks basic training and three months at a unit for continuation

training.

As Ronnie was at the factory the following week, so our great adventure started the next

day, Johan, Marlin, Vinka and I set off next morning with our backpacks and hiking gear

loaded into Olaf ’s car, he drove us to the cabin where we were going to start from, as he left

us he said he would meet us back here the next weekend.

We decided to stop in the cabin that night and set off early next morning as the first leg wasabout ten miles. We left bright and early next morning and had a break a couple of hours

in for breakfast, I found it very funny that Johan and Marlin walked along chatting away

as though they were the only two people in the world, I mentioned this to Vinka and she

admitted that Marlin had a crush on Johan for years, but I was on pain of death not to say

a word to Johan, besides he was also in love with Marlin and I was also on pain of death

not to say anything.

We spent the next few days walking from hut to hut taking in the stunning scenery around

us, and taking the opportunity to take a dip in some of the lakes and rivers when the

weather got to warm and we needed to cool off. I think it was on day four we found an

idyllic beautiful small lake in the middle of nowhere, had just taken a dip and after we

dressed we had a bit of lunch, it was Vinka and my turn to pack the lunch things away,

Marlin and Johan said they would go on ahead, now I know this will sound very strange

but when Johan and I discussed it sometime later it would appear that we knew we were

only sixteen at the time but we proposed about the same time to the girls.

Although Marlin and Vinka were the same age both said yes but also said we had to wait

until we were eighteen, we agreed, also to keep it strictly between us and not another soul

until we were ready. All too soon we had our last night in the cabin before Olaf came to

collect us and take us home. Harry and Ingrid had arrived while we were away so we only

had another couple of weeks left which we spent in the company of Marlin and Vinka at

the beach or swimming hole. Ronnie was in his element at the factory and if it wasn’t for

us being so pleased for him, he might have board us to death.

We had a wonderful time after we returned from our great summer expedition, training

in the mornings, throwing a rugby ball about then sunbathing and swimming in the

afternoons. Although nobody said anything most people had noticed the four of us were

an item.

All too soon the holiday was over Marlin and Vinka were starting work and Johan and

I were off to find jobs up until Christmas when we were then going to join the Royal

Marines in January.

On our return home on the ship our favourite singer was onboard, she said she missed

us on the way out as we had coco in the bar after the first show, we told her of our Grand

Tour of which she was very impressed. The following day Johan and I spent all day in the

library not really reading but going over the last eight weeks and of course the girls came

into our conversation, this is when we worked out that we had proposed at the same time,

we laughed so hard.

Johan and I had been best friends since we were babies in Poplar and could tell what

the other was thinking, we said at the same time that we thought the other was hiding

something, we laughed again, the real funny thing was that in our letters to each of the girls

we agreed to mention that we knew each others secret, the girls letters arrived saying thesame thing, you just couldn’t make it up.

I couldn’t be happier for Johan, he knew I had always been sweet on Vinka and thought we

made a great couple, I thought the first moment I saw Marlin and Johan together they were

right for each other, it’s funny life at times.

Our final exam had been in the middle of June, we had been back to the recruiting office

and completed all the necessary paperwork and documentation required and as we were

still only sixteen, my mum and Harry had to sign to say they were happy for us to join the

Royal Marines. We did this just before we left on our Grand Tour. We could have started

in July as Junior Marines at Deal in Kent but we made the decision not to start until the

January 1973 and go direct to Lympstone. We also choose to have the summer to be with

the girls before they started work in August.

Marlin and Vinka had found a job working in a translators office not far from Ellios,

they were going to start towards the end of August, basically the job involved translating

books from English into Swedish or German and other Swedish books into English or

German, this turned out to be a very good job as they could work from anywhere, once

fully qualified, it also paid very well. As it turned out their company would allow them to

go and do their National Service and return afterwards.

The girls felt that Military training for the defence of the Swedish nation and its country is

not just a duty but a democratic right. With the catch-phrase of ‘one man - one rifle - one

vote’ the Swedes gained a full parliamentary system at the beginning of this century. Any

aggressor should know that a united people stands behind the key words in the political

declaration that ‘we will, we can and we shall defend ourselves’.

The company agreed to release the girls to do their duty to the Nation, so that September

in 1972 aged sixteen they started their basic military training. They turned up at the

National training depot on day one. Once the formalities were done they were taken to

their accommodation along with eighteen other girls, Vinka and Marlin had beds next

to each other, the rest of the other girls were aged between sixteen and twenty. The rest

of that first day was spent collecting their uniforms and equipment from the stores, the

instructors showed them how to ware the uniform.

Next morning after breakfast they formed up for their first drill lesson on the parade square

and spent the next couple of hours going through the basics. After the morning break at

ten o’clock they then had a lesson on what job opportunities were open to them but first

they had to take a few aptitude tests, the girls did excellent.

The afternoon was spent being interviewed about their test results and what job they would

like to do after they completed their basic training. They both wanted to use their language

skills, they were offered the Intelegence Services. There was a need at that time for linguists

inparticular Arabic which both Vinka and Marlin had taken in school along with theirEnglish, German, French, Spanish and Japanese.

In Vinka’s letters to me she said that all the girls felt the same partriotism as her and Marlin

and that was the main reason for them volunteering for military service. She also said

she was enjoying the training, it wasn’t as tough as training with Johan and I. They were

enjoying weapon handling and the first time they went onto the ranges was exciting. She

told me how much she missed me and loved our time at Christmas, I told her how hard I

found it to leave her that summer and missed her so much.

Over the next few weeks they did a lot of drill, physical training which involved lots of

running and assult courses both in the gym and out on the training area, the girls didn’t

have much trouble with the physical stuff being so fit already. There was also weapon

handling with the AK4 and AK5 which is the main infantry weapon of the Swedish forces.

They learnt how to fire the weapons on the ranges then they did a lot of field craft and how

to build a defencive position and defend it.

Arriving home after our summer with the girls we needed to find work up until Christmas,

so Johan and I went to the job centre, they offered us work at a flour mill, the job involved

working on a machine that filled bags with flour, sewed them up and then taken off the

convayer belt and stacked onto pallets, this was hard physical work, it also paid well.

Johan and I started at seven am on the Monday morning and after being issued overalls

we were taken to the machine and shown how to operate it safely. Johan started on the

machine, first he had to place a paper bag over the chute and clamp it into place then press

a foot pedal that would drop twentyfive kilos of flour into the bag, then release the clamp

and the convayer would move the bag to the sewing machine which would stitch up the

bag, then I would take the bag off and stack it onto a pallet. After an hour we would swap

over for another hour before a tea break.

This was a good job and as we got into it we became more proficient on the machine, we

saw this as good physical training, we set ourselves a challenge to see how many pallets

we could do in a day, each pallet weighed a ton, we averaged twenty four pallets a day but

on a couple of days when everything went well without running out of flour we managed

twenty eight pallets. The good thing with starting early we finished at four in the afternoon

and could go to the gym and a run.

We didn’t let up on our training and continued training down at the club but didn’t play

any games for fear of picking up an injury which would stop us joining the Royal Marines

in January. The job at the flour mill took us right up until the middle of December when

the mill closed for a major clean before the end of the year, which was good for us, we were

given a good bonus for the work we did, the boss told us that if we wanted a perminant job

we would be welcome, he said we were the best workers he had from the agency.

Vinka and Marlin were at the end of their basic training and were passing out on the 18thof December so Johan and I were able to fly to Sweden to attend. Knowing that we needed

a suit for when we turn up at Lympstone and with some of our pay from the mill we went

to Burtons and had a taylor made suit each. We collected our suits the week before we

left for Sweden, because these suits had been made to measure for us we looked a million

dollars, so we wore these at their passing out parade.

We flew out the day before the passing out parade, we were picked up by Erik, on the way

we collected Anna, Silvi and Lars who followed us in their car, Johan jumped in with them,

then we headed for a hotel near to the training depot in readiness for the parade next day.

We had a great evening with our potential in laws, we had a loverly meal, after a night cap

we turned in for the night.

After breakfast next morning we packed up and checked out of the hotel and headed to

the barracks. On arrival we were shown into a mess hall and had coffee, we were briefed by

an officer on what was going to happen that morning. We then went into a large shed and

asked to take our seats. The band struck up and the recruits marched in and came to a halt

in front of the stands where we were sat.

The Sergeant call them to attention and got them to advance in review order, they marched

forward and halted, he then ordered then to open order right dress, once he gave eyes

front he then handed over to the officer. The officer then escorted the inspecting officer to

inspect the troops, Vinka was the right marker and Marlin was next to her, they did look

very smart in their best uniforms. While we watched the inspection the officer spent a few

moments with each person asking questions, the band continued to play.

Once he finished and returned to the saluting dias the troop officer took over and then

ordered the troops to do a march passed. The band struck up again for the first march in

slow time then they broke into quick time and marched past again, then they formed up

again in front of the saluting dias and the stands, the inspecting officer then gave them a

speech, they then marched off as trained soldiers.

While they went to hand in their weapons we were escorted back into the mess hall for

more coffee, then our girls entred the mess hall and they were then free to go on leave,

before we left we had our photos taken. Johan went with Silvi, Lars and Marlin in their car

while I went with Erik, Anna and Vinka, we followed them all the way back to the Lodge

for the Christmas break.

Vinka and Marlin had their orders to report for duty to start their trade training as

Intelligence operators as linguists on the Monday eighth of January 1973, the same day as

Johan and I were to report to the Commando Training Centre Royal Marines, Lympstone.

That Christmas and New Year was wonderful.

Vinka and Marlin had both practiced Aikido since childhood and gained blue belts. On

Wednesday the third of January they were to take their brown belt grading and basicinstructor level before returning to military training in January, they were awarded it,

Johan and I were impressed. To celebrate Vinka frequently grabbed and threw me to the

ground without warning, Vinka excelled in this manoeuvre, but the rolling around on the

floor which followed was worth all the pain of the hard fall, so I had no complaints. I had

learnt how to fall correctly and roll away without injury years ago, so got no sympathy.

Both girls had driving lessons as part of their basic training and passed, which I was quite

envious about. Their goal was to save up for a car and share the running costs between

them. Hopefully by Easter when my leave should coincide with theirs, they would have a

car and would be able to drive to England.

We only had a few days of skiing as severe snow storms prevented us from going higher up

the mountain. I was more than willing to sacrifice that form of exercise and stay in a nice

warm bed for longer. It was even better when the house was quiet and Vinka slipped in

beside me, there’s something about skin on skin smooching that is so lovely.

A party involving the whole village had been organised in the community hall for New

Years Eve. We ate, drank and danced late into the night but Johan and I crept away back

to the lodge with the girls just before midnight. There were fireworks being set off and

banging all over town that night!

It was so hard to say goodbye. I knew I loved Vinka and she told me how much she loved

me. It was then I understood the lyrics in many songs about how much love hurts. I felt that

my guts were being wrenched apart when the final call for my flight home was announced

over the airport speakers. I saw tears well up in her beautiful deep blue eyes and to stop

mine from doing the same I bit hard on the inside of my cheeks. I clenched my molars

so hard that when my tongue went in search of the newly secreted traces of blood in my

mouth I accidentally bit the side of that too.

For the whole duration of the flight my tongue was numb and my speech almost non

coherent. The stewardess somehow kept a straight face as she served a ‘cup of thee with

two thoogerth pleath’. I thought she was joking when she offered me a sausage sandwich

or seasonal vegetable soup. Not even attempting to say either of those choices I just smiled

and pointed at the packet of ‘thangwitheths’.

I was only home for a couple of days, then re-packed ready to go away again. This time I

was off to the Commando Training Centre Royal Marines at Lympstone, in Devon on the

South Coast of England.

Before Johan and I left for Lympstone we paraded one last time at TS Amethyst where all

the lads wished us well, it was quite an emotional event seeing we had done so much with

them over the years, our Chief Petty Officer said he was a little disappointed we wasn’t

joining the Royal Navy but was proud of us anyway.We also popped round to the rugby club for a drink with the lads, the club chairman told

us anytime we wanted to come back and have a game we were more than welcome, the lads

said we would be missed, everyone wished us the best of luck.

Because we had done our research we knew exactly what to expect at Lympstone from the

time we got off the train at the private station to what was expected of us throughout the

whole course, unlike some of the lads who looked petrified standing on the platform that

cold wet January morning when the Corporals started shouting, Johan and I found it all

very amusing.

On day one of the course they drummed this into us: The four elements of Commando

Spirit; Courage, Determination, Unselfishness, and Cheerfulness in the face of adversity,

are well-known to all recruits by the time they complete Commando training. It is these

that constituents the ‘Commando Spirit’ that make each an individual ‘Commando’.

During the start of the thirty-two weeks of basic training we were shown everything from

how to shower, shave (regardless of whether we had any stubble or not) and how to clean

our teeth and fingernails. In return for our Corporal bearing all with us, we were from then

onwards expected to turn out squeaky clean for every inspection and parade. To anyone

not exhaling the minty ‘Colgate’ ring of confidence’, punishments were dished out. One

consistent offender had disappeared from the course by day three.

I thought I knew how to make a bed with crisp ‘hospital corners’ but this was on a whole

new level requiring a 2p coin for tightness testing and a ruler for precision. I even used my

compass to take bearings for getting my folds accurate. However perfect the ten beds in

our accommodation block looked the Corporal appeared to take great pleasure in finding

something out of place or not up to standard.

Our beds and lockers would be trashed by the inspectors and we would be given ten

minutes to get it all back in perfect order. Failure would result in a late-night mud run

along the beach. I got to know the route very well. I couldn’t see anything wrong with my

kit or bed making, but it wasn’t worth complaining over a bed sheet. Although I knew it

was just a method of trying to find a breaking point, the freezing cold January night runs

were not a lot to laugh about.

We even had a demonstration on how to turn the dial on an iron from cold, to medium

then to high heat and back again and lay the shirt out correctly on the ironing board,

having first unfolded the ironing board and placed it on a level floor surface. We were then

shown how to correctly iron one crease neatly along the length of each sleeve, then left

alone to practice. The lads in my squad successfully passed that part of kit maintenance.

However, we were warned that if we were ever seen with ‘tram lines’, which clearly stood

out if the crease didn’t go too well the first time and an attempt at re-ironing added a

second parallel crease along the arm, to expect a moonlit run along the beach.One poor bloke spent ages trying to press his kit before inspection but had forgot to switch

the iron on. Having run out of time he got dressed while the iron was warming up and

stupidly ironed the front of his shirt while still wearing it. Personally, I would have risked

the punishment rather than a burnt chest. He ended up in the sick bay, not from the initial

ironing burn but from where the straps of his rucksack rubbed. A scar wouldn’t form and

the wound got infected. He was back trooped until it healed.

The other hot appliance in our accommodation block was a coke burner in the centre of

the room. 10 bunks were positioned in two rows of 5 either side of it, which kept the area

lovely and warm, but it was a pain to keep stocked up and cleaned. It was useful to hang

things near to dry out, but too close and the kit would pick up charcoal marks.

From day one of training, we were only allowed to drink tea or coffee with meals or

when told by the instructors. The rest of the time we had water only. It was therefore a

momentous occasion when, having been detoxed, each room was awarded a kettle. One

bloke in Johan’s room concocted a celebratory brew that went badly wrong. The recruit

produced a bottle of alcohol he had distilled from cleaning fluid. Apparently as he hadn’t

been told to keep flammable liquids away from flames and only put water into the kettle he

wasn’t discharged. He was however back trooped and joined the other guy in the sick bay.

The only comedian of that level we had in our room was a guy who could sniff a balloon, or

similar item, up his nose and pull it out through his mouth. With more practice he thought

he could perfect the act and make it reappear through his ear. The practice sessions were a

horrible thing to watch but quite impressive all the same. His name was Luke so picked up

the nickname of Mucus, which he seemed delighted with.

Every day we marched, ran or both. Despite trying all forms of softening our boot leather

we all suffered with blisters, mine were mainly on my heels, but some people’s feet were in

an awful state. On particularly cold, or wet days, the running was miserable, but preferable

in my opinion to running in the heat. The vigorous exercise regime was too much for some

and about one third left in the first four weeks.

After the first month the intensity increased, and the fitness training felt unbearable at

times. It wasn’t just the physical strength needed but the mental fatigue that got the better

of some recruits. Each week more and more faces were missing from parade. Johan and I

got through to week eight, which was a milestone for us as we had been looking forward to

training on the live firing ranges. At the end of that week both Johan and I passed the tests

with top marks for our Squads.

Although sleeping in different rooms we were able to catch up with each other, usually in

the galley during scram breaks. I always welcomed the meals, regardless of how they tasted.

As long as the food was edible and there was plenty of it I wasn’t picky. Having come from

a childhood of relative poverty I had already learned to appreciate anything put on a plate.

I along with Johan were taught not to waist food and always clear our plates. There werea few whingers, but they were struggling with more than just keeping their meals down.

Week nine saw another significant decrease in numbers because the fitness tests in the

gym were either passed or failed. The rules were clear, if you couldn’t do the tasks within

the time limits you were out and sent packing. There was rumour that if you managed to

convince the PTI’s that significant effort had been displayed alongside moral fibre then

there was a slim chance of being back trooped. Fortunately Johan and I passed with a lot of

effort as we had been working hard and knew what was expected.

I thought I was fit until I saw the instructors demonstrate the activities. Even the smallest

of these beasts were built like mountains and messing with them was a bad idea. After a

week in the gym I thought I was going to die. During the sit-ups I knew I had completed

the task within the time but was told to keep going. The instructor only gave me the OK to

stop when I projectile vomited all over his lovely shiny floor, which I had to clean up after

the lesson.

Regardless of which rooms the recruits were in we all cheered each other on, willing the

whole squad to succeed. It was gutting to see some really great guys crumble and told they

could go no further on the course. Those left all felt the gym test a challenge but gritted

our teeth and went for it. The reward for success was not only to continue on the course to

become a Royal Marine but a highly prized weekend pass.

Some people went home for the weekend, others went out in groups to the pubs and clubs

in the neighbouring towns. Johan and I went out with six other lads on Friday night. We

had a couple of beers then went on to a club in Exeter. Groups of lads weren’t allowed into

the club without girls, so we did the rounds of a few more pubs, befriending locals along

the way. We then went strolling in, two by two as if to frequent Noah’s Ark. Far from being

respectfully biblical, we were all on the verge of raucous. The six lads were keen to get to

know their newly introduced female friends a bit better, but Johan and I decided to leave,

with the girls we had invited along, who once outside and out of sight we flagged down a

taxi for them and gave the driver their fare home.

The last train back towards camp had already left and no buses were running that late at

night. We thought we would try and secure rooms at a B&B with ‘Vacancies’ shown in the

window, but how naïve we were. It was a bit like playing ‘knock down ginger’ deciding who

should knock the door, however, there was no need to run away without being seen as no

one was home to answer the doors. It seemed that most Guest House owners had closed

their premises for winter and gone abroad for some sunshine. We did find a very fancy

looking hotel way over our budget so that would be a last resort if other options failed.

Other options being the railway station waiting room or climbing in through the cinema

toilet window and hiding somewhere for the night.

Frost had now formed on the windscreens of parked cars and slipping about on icy

pavements wasn’t much fun. We noticed lights still on at a pub we had been to earlier inthe evening, so returned in the hope that someone may be able to point us in the direction

of some affordable accommodation.

The landlady beckoned us into a back-room bar where regulars were still drinking up,

last orders having been called. The regulars took the view was that if the till wasn’t open

or money being taken then alcohol wasn’t officially being served after hours. Out of hours

customers settled their accounts held in a red book behind the bar the next time they went

in. Although very nice and friendly this didn’t help our situation, but at least it was warm

until everyone was shown the exit door.

The landlady told us that if we were willing to wash up some glasses, run a hoover around

the downstairs carpets and clean the tables in the bar we could stay in a room upstairs, but

we would have to share. That seemed fine to us. Not feeling too competent about handling

delicate glasses after the amount of beer we had consumed we thought we would leave the

chores until the morning.

I staggered upstairs and feebly fought Johan for the bed. Even through my clothes I could

feel the mattress was not only cold but damp, I willingly gave the bed to Johan in favour of

the threadbare carpet. I soon sank into a deep heavenly sleep, or so I thought.

Light footsteps were heard on the stairway, they paused for a few seconds, then the

door to our room creaked slowly open. A naked leg with skin not quite fitting its flesh

appeared, followed by a partially clothed, slightly wrinkled and baggy rest of its body. I

then recognised the face of the landlady and unfortunately this was not a dream, it was all

too real. I wasn’t sure if I was paralysed through drink or paralysed through fear, but it was

probably one of the scariest visions I had ever seen.

Taking a long drag on a cigarette she sat on the edge of the bed and asked me how she

looked. Even on a freezing cold Winter’s night I was sweating profusely and it wasn’t just

because I was brought up not to lie. No magazines on the top shelf of WH Smiths had

prepared me for that encounter.

Cowardly hoping that Johan would wake up I lay perfectly still. Surely the smell of her

perfume would cause him to either cough or retch, I rather hoped I would just pass out

and I would still be intact by the morning. Quietly rising to her feet she flicked ash into a

saucer on the bedside table and informed me that she was popping next door to visit her

gentleman friend so probably wont see us in the morning. Thank the Lord, he was merciful

that night.

In the morning, I didn’t want to encounter her again so raced about with the hoover,

wiped the tables down and put away cleaned glasses before Johan had even stirred. I shook

him awake and told him that we were wasting a day’s leave and to get up. He mumbled

something that sounded like sod off and turned over. To encourage him to get up I told

him that I was sure the place was haunted and showed him the cigarette butt that the ghosthad left behind. He believed me.

We both legged it downstairs and out into the street, leaving behind us a set of skid marks

in the freshly fallen snow. Glancing up at the window next door to the pub I recognised the

wrinkled face of the landlady who waved a kiss to me. It made me cringe.

A bus going to Exmouth drove past. The stop was in sight so we carried on running with

arms waving in the hope that the driver would see us. Thankfully two people took their

time getting off, which gave us the chance to catch the bus up. Panting we paid for our

tickets and took the seats at the back. We hadn’t planned to go to Exmouth, we weren’t

actually sure where Exmouth was, but assuming it was far away enough from Lympstone

to not be seen getting into trouble and close enough to make it back to camp on Sunday,

we took a chance.

The countryside was pretty with its thatched cottages amidst a backdrop of white snow –

all very Christmas card like. The tranquillity of the view from the bus was a much more

pleasurable way to gently wake up and start the day. Not wishing to repeat the previous

night’s debacle, our first task upon arrival at Exmouth was to secure somewhere to spend

the night. I noticed a sign saying that Lympstone was only two miles away.

The bus followed a route along what we assumed to be the River Exe and stopped outside

a row of shops and a quaint tea shop. Low and behold, there at the end of the street was a

guest house. We knocked on the door, which was answered by the rosiest cheeked, smiley

faced, almost fairytale stereotypical lovely grandma figure I had ever seen. Heaven be

praised, I felt sure I would get a good night’s sleep there.

We were invited in and given the best breakfast I had ever tasted. That lovely lady had a

grandson who was serving in the Royal Navy. If I ever met him, I would shake his hand.

We were treated like a member of the family. The ‘Full English’ was a pork chop, rashers

of thick cut bacon, bubble and squeak, two eggs, three sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes,

baked beans and a pile of toast that kept being added to.

We were informed that our rooms were already available so we could ‘check in’ at any time.

A quick trip to the corner shop for a toothbrushes and toothpaste and we were back in the

very comfortable rooms with the intention of just catching up on sleep with no planned

visits to any pubs.

Vinka and I exchanged letters regularly. Phone calls were non existent as the chances of

both being near a telephone while away training was almost impossible. It was good to

have the weekend free to write a longer than usual letter, which resembled a short novel by

the time I posted it.

While writing my letter the lady of the house delivered to my room a tray of tea and huge

slice of coffee and walnut cake. I had never drunk tea from a floral-patterned bone Chinatea service before and was glad that it was delivered to my room. There I could grab the

cup without finesse, hold the cup like a tin mug and not bother with etiquette, thus avoid

holding the tiny little doll’s house style handle. Those cups weren’t made for hands my size.

The little silver sieve thing confused the heck out of me, perhaps it was just ornamental,

and tongs for the sugar cubes, what was that all about?

Later in the day Johan and I took a leisurely stroll along the river and nodded to a couple

of people walking their dogs, other than them we saw nobody until we headed back into

town. There was some activity taking place at the church hall, probably a jumble sale or

similar. We obviously loitered too long and before we knew what was happening a cup of

tea was thrust in our hands and yet another piece of homemade cake, this time served by a

lovely elderly lady, complete with her thumb print firmly embedded in the icing.

A seven-piece band commenced playing and like moths drawn to a light bulb retired

couples congregated onto the dance floor. There was, as usual, a shortage of men. When

I looked up, I saw a wall of grey-haired ladies staring directly at me with hope in their

eyes. Who was I to let them down. Johan and I always loved ballroom dancing since our

first year at Grammar school so worked our way along the line of seated ladies inviting

them in turn to waltz, foxtrot or quickstep. Johan and I were made to feel so welcome.

Their conversation and company were inspiring, and it was wonderful to take the lead on

the dance floor with ladies who actually knew the steps and could follow. Having some

younger people made their day and in turn they enhanced ours.

That evening we sat in the guest house lounge eating a Chinese take-away and also ate our

way through endless amounts of pick and mix from Woolworths. It was sheer bliss to sleep

in a comfortable bed with no alarm set for the following morning. We eventually ambled

downstairs in time for breakfast and were again served a feast. As we got out our cheque

books to pay the lady she only charged us for one room and one breakfast and refused to

take a penny more.

The bus took us back to camp and we arrived a short while before the deadline with plenty

of time to check back in, prepare are kit for the following day and catch up with the other

blokes from different rooms. We soon discovered that something had happened in the

locality over the weekend and the Sergeant was not happy.

At exactly midnight, the door to our room was flung open and everyone was told to

stand by our beds. We were all questioned about where we had been between 12 noon on

Saturday until 12 noon on Sunday. I wasn’t sure whether to come up with a feasible story

or tell the truth. The guy before me was asked to produce receipts so I knew then that there

was no way out. I had to own up.

Picture the scene. A Royal Marine recruit on weekend leave, and where was I? Staying at

Mabel’s Guest House and attending a tea dance! As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough

Johan told the same story, but I had the receipt, and it was only for one room! My matesfell about laughing and the Sergeant for once was speechless. He checked my wash bag for

lipstick and face powder and left the room swearing and guffawing in equal measure.

Two people were missing from our room and their lockers lay empty. One had failed the

gym test and the other had been involved in whatever had happened over the weekend.

Three guys from Johan’s room were also missing. Apparently, some recruits made the

mistake of choosing a local pub to hang out in, got caught for under-age drinking and then

got into a fight with some of the local lads. There were some injuries caused by smashed

bottles, but their downfall was mouthing off about being Marines and bringing the service

into disrepute. The story grew every time it was told, as did the number of recruits thrown

off the course.

The empty bunks were quickly taken by guys returning after a spell of sick leave or having

been back trooped from another course. It was good to have new dynamics in the troop

and everyone got along and continued to encourage each other over the next stage of our

training. If the previous weeks had been thought as hard, those weren’t a patch on what

was to come. We had the joy of timed marches every day, carrying weighted back packs

which increased with weight as the days went on, as did the distance as we marched along,

up, down, around and through all types of terrain. By week fifteen the marches were timed,

we were given 45 minutes carrying 35 lbs back packs for 4 miles. It was expected that we

finished considerably quicker.

Back in January our Troop had started with sixty new recruits. Halfway through the course

at week 16 we were reduced to just 20 of the original intake. It was only then that we were

given a much appreciated two weeks leave.

Vinka and Marlin had both passed their driving tests and jointly bought a car. The plan

had been for them to come over on the ferry and for Johan and I to tour around Devon

with them for the duration of our leave. It was all going so well, right up to the point when

the girls tried to board the ferry.

It was only when their passports were checked that they discovered that although legally

old enough to work, own a car and be in control behind the wheel, serve their country,

they weren’t considered old enough to travel on a ferry unless accompanied by an adult.

Johan and I were unaware of the drama unfolding at the ferry port. We assumed that there

had been a delay with the boat leaving port, or the girls had been held up in traffic, but we

started to get anxious when it had gone six hours past their expected time of arrival.

We hadn’t wanted to cause any unnecessary concern to the girls’ parents but thought it

best to telephone Vinka’s home. The call was answered by Petra. Excited screams nearly

deafened us. Johan held the phone at arm’s length, and she squealed her way through one

pile of loose change before running out of breath. Johan was getting nowhere and with

a look of desperation swung the receiver at me to continue the call. That was a bad idea,I couldn’t get her to say anything, I just heard her sighing deeply between giggles. Fastly

running out of money I shouted at her not to go away and said that we would call back.

We hadn’t considered a back-up plan just for making what should have been a simple

telephone call. However, a trip into the village to replenish our stocks of 2p, 5p and 10p

pieces was needed. We started with the nearest corner shop who changed up 50p worth,

then moved on to the pub, no where else was open. With pockets jingling we found a

phone box and tried again to get through, hopefully Petra would have calmed down by

then. How wrong we were.

Having got no information of any kind from Petra we tried Marlin’s home. Silvi answered

the phone but insisted we wait for Lars to get within ear shot so he could hear our voices

as well. We had about 10 seconds to speak between each set of beeps and the clatter of the

money dropping into the box. With a disjointed succession of snippets of conversation, the

gist was that Erik had left to take Anna to the port, hence Petra being alone in the house.

After much pleading from Vinka, Anna agreed to accompany the girls and stay with her

sister, Ingrid, for a few days. Anna insisted that the girls break their journey and stop

over at Johan’s house just for one night and start out again the following morning in the

daylight. Phew! For one awful moment I thought all notions of having a great time were

going to be curtailed by an eagle-eyed chaperone.

When eventually a message came through from the guardroom that Johan and I had

visitors, we grabbed our back packs and quick marched to meet our girls, who were causing

quite a stir. They were more than merely stunning; both Marlin and Vinka were totally hot

with the longest legs and shortest skirts I had ever enjoyed gazing at and both with the

sexiest accents imaginable.

Vinka ran over to me and with a lingering kiss left the lads on duty standing at the barrier

with eyes popping out of their sockets. Johan received similar enthusiastic and very friendly

salutations from Marlin. It had been such a long time since I smelled anything as good as

Vinka and after sixteen weeks of being around sweaty hairy blokes she went far beyond a

long-awaited welcome distraction.

To the sound of wolf whistles we got into the car. I thoroughly enjoyed holding the door

open for Vinka, that skirt really didn’t do my blood pressure any good, but my ego had

been boosted no end. I sat in the back with my feet resting on a Colour gas cylinder which

had been housed in the foot well. There was no room in the boot of the car, as that was

already jam-packed with camping gear, so Vinka sat on top of my holdall, and I had Johan’s

bag across my knees. I tried sitting on it but was too tall to fit in the car. He was in the front

seat next to Marlin.

Marlin drove the pale blue, previously cherished by numerous owners, Volvo P144, 2 litre

four door saloon, only about half a mile before she pulled over and parked in a lay-by.Whilst practising their talents of flexibility and not caring about the heel indentations in

the roof lining, we had a great start to the holiday.

The passengers passing by on the 11:15 bus may have had an interesting view out their

windows that morning on their way to the shops. Thankfully it was unlikely that we were

identifiable as it was very cold outside and inside our car it was steaming. Thank goodness

for condensation.

After the windscreen had cleared, we pulled away and continued our journey in the

direction of Plymouth. We had planned to stay a few miles short of the city in the much

smaller picturesque fishing village of Brixton in Devon. Having learned our lesson from

the previous leave we didn’t assume that B&Bs would be available and so had made a

reservation at a camp-site in a location overlooking the River Yealm.

The idea of camping sounded appealing at the time of booking, with Spring just around

the corner. We hadn’t expected there still to be frost laying on the hard ground and a

biting cold wind to contend with. By midday there had been enough sunlight to defrost the

ground and leave a mushy layer of sodden grass and mud to trompe through.

Why we had planned our leave to resemble a military exercise I know not. However, by

taking long walks we had ample opportunity to split into couples and talk in depth with

the girls, expanding on what had already been said in letters. It was clear that we weren’t

just friends that had grown up together, we were two couples madly in love.

Having exhausted the out of season sights of Brixton we chose to drive over to Plymouth,

where the Royal Marines 40 Commando were based. I was keen to see the area as it was

very likely that Johan and I would be posted there at some point in our careers.

Driving through parts of Dartmoor it wasn’t difficult to imagine how many future hours,

days or even weeks we would be Yomping across that terrain. As tempting as it was to stop

the car, we thought it best to have a proper break from all things khaki green and carry on

to Plymouth.

We parked in a multi storey car park at a large shopping mall and immediately felt the

benefits of warmth as we ambled in and out of the stores. With cheeky grins on their faces

the girls suggested we had a very belated birthday party when we got back to the camp-site,

and we were each given a list of items to find within a very tight budget.

My task was to acquire an exploding birthday cake. Surely the girls meant flammable

candles, but I took them at their word and headed off to the thrifty of all shops, Oxfam. In a

musty smelling corner, I found a child’s paddling pool. I had visions of using shaving foam

as icing to create an interesting cake and look around for some decorations to go on top.

This idea escalated into finding a large cardboard lid so I could hide inside and at theappointed time, spring out. Pleased with my plan I looked through the donated Christmas

decorations and found some long white candles with blackened wicks. Who on earth

would donate previously lit candles? Taking my purchases to the till the lady gave me a

look of pity and said I could have the lot for 5p.

One hour later, as agreed, we all met back at the car to unload our parcels into the boot.

The girls wanted to carry on looking around the shops while Johan and I went in search of

carbs and beer. The barman obliged me by letting me pick out a couple of flattened boxes

from his rubbish bins, leaving Johan with a bemused look on his face.

Back at the camp site Johan and I sat in the car while the girls prepared their surprises

in the tent. We had thought they were laying out a meal but what a feast for the eyes

awaited us when we were eventually beckoned inside. Vinka and Marlin had made paper

chains which were wrapped around their naked bodies. The practical part of my brain

immediately thought thank goodness we had eaten at the pub. Then just a split second later

I recalled a grace and felt sure that, for what I was about to receive I would be truly grateful.

Indeed, the Swedish ration packs were amazing.

It was then time for me to make the cake. I blew up the inflatable pool, which required a

plaster from the first aid kit to cover a split at the base of the valve. I drew around the base

of the pool then cut out the cardboard. As I didn’t have a single sheet of card large enough,

I made triangles to look like cake slices. Then squirted dollops of cream randomly on the

top.

Requiring assistance from that point onwards Johan was summoned. I was already curled

up inside the pool and partially covered with the triangles. All he had to do was cover me

with the remaining few pieces of card and light the candles. So far so good. As the girls

re-entered the tent to a resounding chorus of ‘Happy Birthday to You’ he lit the candles,

accidentally dropped the match igniting the shaving foam which went up like mini fire

balls. I certainly exploded out of that cake leaving behind a withered pool deflating like a

giant and particularly unpleasant whoopee cushion. Tears of laughter ensued for ages.

Then it was Johan’s turn. He had been tasked with providing an evening of torch lit

entertainment. How could he equal what had previously passed that night? Somehow, he

managed with a jigsaw puzzle. Yes, a Jigsaw puzzle. Not only had it taken no effort on

his part, but annoyingly with pictures of fluffy kittens and cute puppies the girls loved it.

Pathetic. I begrudgingly joined in and hoped that upon return to barracks I wouldn’t be

questioned again by the Sergeant on what I had been doing at 10pm on a Saturday night.

The four of us loved what we saw of Plymouth and the surrounding area and felt we would

be very content to live in that part of the country as our careers progressed. As always

seemed the case, our leave flew by all too quickly and it was again time to say our goodbyes.

It was heart wrenching to leave Vinka and see the car drive away.Six months ago, Johan and I may have ambled along the driveway and past the guardroom

to our block. That day we immediately paced in step, shrugged off the negative feelings and

quickly replaced our drooping bottom lips with smiles. It was good to be back with the rest

of our troop.

The next morning rather than the sweet smelling and warm body of Vinka lying beside

me, I got woken by a chorus of breaking wind and throat hacking from various bunks in

the room. The day started with rigorous PT then a presentation on what we were to expect

over the next few weeks. The talk basically informed us to prepare for getting cold, wet,

pissed off and physically drained. The military didn’t disappoint.

For twelve gruelling weeks we were challenged to overcome mental and physical challenges.

The guys were like family, we helped each other through the hardest times and laughed

our way out of even more miserable situations. Feelings of frustration when finding tasks

almost unbearable were replaced by a determination to dig deep and get the job done.

We experienced challenges with map reading. Not helped by the mist over the moors there

was little to see in the distance to take bearings from, but the skills I had learned with

Stefan in the mountains using my very first compass all those years ago, became essential

and were quickly recalled. Leadership and who was to be assigned what along the way fell

into place quite naturally, we all knew our strengths, the word ‘weaknesses’ didn’t exist.

We forced our way through, under or over barbed wire, crawling on our bellies while

carrying or sometimes dragging kit through cold, wet mud adding even more weight to

the loads we carried, these hurdles soon became mere inconveniences.

We climbed ropes, swung on ropes, carried ropes, tied ropes and learned to respect ropes.

The brick wall I may have once feared, was just another feature of the assault course which

I attacked at speed and conquered without a second thought. All tests endured during

those last couple of weeks were timed, passed or failed.

The exercises got more complex the longer into the course we went, these were all aimed

at how the Royal Marines operate, the patrolling techniques we were learning would put

us in good stead when we were posted to our units. We found the assault boat work

challenging but fun.

A few injuries caused a couple of great blokes to be back trooped, so close to the final major

test and for this to happen was bad luck. We were by then used to other guys infilling from

previous courses and we automatically bonded as one unit and just carried on. Injury was

the one thing we worried about, fortunately we survived without any.

The whole training course and especially the final week of testing had been exhausting.

Some tasks were painful whilst others played with my mind, but the more I was put under

pressure the more I enjoyed the satisfaction of achievement, not just for myself but for mymates.

This was it test week, we started with the first commando test, The Endurance run, 6 miles

of rough terrain with tunnels and water obstacles, 73 minutes the time limit, if you didn’t

beat the clock that was it, back trooped.

Next day was the 9 mile speed march 90 minutes, you had to maintain a mile every ten

minutes to pass carrying full webbing and rifle, only the second test and you could feel the

strain on the body. The next day was the The Tarzan assault (high ropes) course at speed 13

minutes, doesn’t seem like much time but really tough, if and only if you completed these

three tests you could then attempt the thirty miler on the last day.

Carrying full kit weighing 40lbs the final test was to yomp thirty miles across the moors in

8 hours. In the outside world I had heard this was to be dreaded. I had only one thought

– bring it on! In the room I was like a coiled spring waiting to be set loose, myself and the

guys with me couldn’t wait to get started. You could almost feel the adrenaline bounce off

each other. Like a pack of hunting wolves, we set out to stalk our prey, pounce and bring

back the reward of a coveted Green Beret.

Focussed on stomping up that (expletive) great hill. Focussed on stomping up the (even

more expletives) next even bigger hill. Not giving in to tiredness or exhaustion, just

mentally focussed on keeping up the pace and getting up that (new swear words invented)

hill in the distance (even more new swear words invented). Willing each other along and

clutching at the clothing of guys falling behind with no breath left and eyes lolling in their

heads, we got to the end of the course.

I saw the huge smiles on the faces of the Corporals who had been instrumental in our

training over the past few months. I thought I clocked a glimpse of pride on the face of our

Sergeant – huge cheers went up from the bystanders from other courses who had come

to watch us complete the test. I had never felt so proud as when the moment came when I

crossed the bridge and the finish line, the Commanding Officer leant forward and thrust a

Green Beret into my hand. I can’t remember what he said, or what my reply to him was, it

just included one of those many expletives used that day!

For the following two weeks we drilled on the parade square, marching for hour after hour

at various paces until every step landed perfectly synchronised. Rifle drill was perfected

to the same precision. It was monotonous but necessary and looked impressive. Never for

one minute did I think that I would fail the course although at times I did find it extremely

tough. By this time our feet had hardened up and not a blister in sight, our boots were like

slippers now so comfortable.

During my one-to-one interview with the Troop Commander I noticed a change in the

dynamics. I automatically clicked my heels together and stood to attention throughout our

meeting. Not only was it expected but my respect for his position was genuine and wearingthe ‘green beret’ made a difference. I now belonged and was a Royal Marine and as much

as I tried to control the muscles in my face, I felt I just wanted to grin from ear to ear, I was

so proud to be standing in his office for all the right reasons.

He discussed with me the results of the final tests and summarised the reports made

by the instructors throughout the course. My heart pounded as he announced my high

percentages scored in the numerous tests. The instructors, who I thought at times were

making my life hell, wrote amazing testimonials. I couldn’t wait to face them individually

man to man and shake their hands as a fully-fledged member of their marine family and

thank them for pushing me so hard and getting me through the course. He confirmed that

I would be joining 40 Commando as expected, based in Plymouth.

However, before leaving Lympstone there was the passing out parade to look forward to

which would conclude our time there. Tickets were restricted and I chose to invite my mum,

Tim and Vinka. Johan invited Harry, Ingrid and Marlin. Their seats had been allocated

together in the stand and it was easy to spot them amongst the sea of faces searching for

their sons, brothers or other family member.

Through the lengthy wait for the dignitaries to arrive I could clearly spot my family directly

in front of me. Mum wore a navy blue suit with white trim which she had tailored herself,

and a hat to match. Always taking care in how she looked I knew mum would lead the way

in fashion and look amazing. What surprised me was how Tim had made an effort and

turned out so well. Wearing his Army cadet Battle Dress uniform with his hair cut neatly

over his ears, and not long as was the norm in the 1970s, he did himself and me proud.

Ingrid was waring a beautiful dress and Harry a three peice suit. As for Vinka, well she

and Marlin wore their Swedish No. 1 uniforms, which were not quite as attractive as paper

chains but on this occasion far more practical and socially acceptable. Wow! Of course

they stood out, totally gorgeous.

The band marched onto the square and commenced playing. It was a blessing to be able to

march and feel the numbness wear off from my extremities, even though I did need to go

through a few minutes of ‘pins and needles’ in my lower legs and feet, but that was better

than cramp. I knew the drill, and every note of the band’s marches, which made the parade

so much easier to concentrate on and keep abreast of when it was likely to be finished. Let’s

face it, as proud as we were who on earth liked standing still for that length of time holding

a rifle, daring not to move a muscle.

At the end of the parade we marched close in front of the stands. Loud cheers went up and

I could hear Harry’s shouts amongst the applause from well-wishers, it was a sound I will

never forget. I can’t be sure but my face may have broken into a twinge of a slight smile at

one point. Immediately following our march off from the parade ground, we handed in our

weapons, family members and guests were shown into a large marquee where beverages

were served and an extensive buffet laid out for their consumption. I was to meet Mum

and Vinka there.Back in the block the guys exchanged contact details and vowed to keep in touch. We knew

that although destined for different bases it would be highly likely that our paths would

cross again at some point in the future. Nevertheless, it still felt weird saying goodbye to

guys I had spent so much time with.

What a strange looking crocodile of blokes we must have looked with kit bags swung in

front and behind us, not forgetting the comical duvets draped over our shoulders. Some

guys even took their ironing boards with them. I was more than happy to leave my old

metal framed friend behind and donate it to the block for the next intake’s use.

Kit stowed in the boot of mum’s car I headed over to the marquee. At the sight of Vinka

I lifted her off her feet and swung her around high in the air. It was only then that I

remembered the ‘no fraternisation rule’ whilst in uniform or around the base. As she was

also in uniform I wasn’t supposed to be within an inch of her, let alone plant a kiss on her

lips. Oh well, I could have always said I thought that she was choking and my Heim-ich

resuscitation manoeuvre had got out of hand. I needn’t have worried because I got away

with it.

I crammed in as many sausage rolls into my mouth as I could, devoured a plate of vol

et vonts. However, the ladies in our party had other ideas. They had already engaged a

very insistent photographer’s assistant to herd me into a line to wait for my photo to be

taken. I could have done without this delay, but mum and Vinka made it crystal clear

that they wanted a memento of the day. Previous experience had taught me that it was

easier to comply with their wishes than not on such matters. With my mission having been

accomplished we joined the procession of cars attempting to leave the base.

Phew! What a day. What a life lay ahead. What an incredible feeling. We then proceeded

to go on leave for two weeks before joining our new unit in Plymouth.

Not one person was surprised, most people thought Vinka and I were and item for years

anyway, most people thought Marlin and Johan were perfect for each other. Johan and

I were to report to Stonehouse Barracks and 40 Commando after leave on the 1st of

September 1973 as trained Royal Marine Commandos, Marlin and Vinka returned to their

unit on the 3rd September.

We had already informed 40 Commando we would arrive on the Sunday so as to have

someone meet us and show us our accommodation, the guardroom called out the duty

storeman who showed us to our bunks and the Orderly Sergeant told us when and where

to report in the morning.

The following morning Johan and I squared away our room and went to the main galley for

breakfast, after that we reported to the Orderly Room to officially report for duty, Marine

Heald and Heale reported to the duty Orderly room Sergeant, who gave us our joiningroutine which consisted of a list of instructions and a signing sheet, he called in another

Marine and told him to take us round to our troop office and to Sergeant Philips who

would be our troop sergeant.

Sergeant Philips was we guessed in his late twenties or very early thirties, a fit man with

brown hair and green eyes, he welcomed us in and asked us to sit down and offered us tea,

this was a bit of a shock, a sergeant being nice to us, he noticed us look at each other in

surprise and said relax lads you have passed out of training now this is not Lympstone after

all you have earned the right to be here, we treat you like grown ups.

After we had tea and a chat he said we had an interview with the troop commander

Lieutenant Mark Dyer, he was a bloke probably about 23 years old with sandy hair and

grey eyes with a bit of a Scottish accent, he welcomed us into his office and asked us if we

wanted tea, it didn’t seen right to refuse. In front of him he had our reports from Lympstone

and our personal files. He commented on our exam results and was amazed that we hadn’t

wanted to go to university or Dartmouth.

We didn’t know what to say only that up until we went to the recruiting office we were

going to join the Royal Navy, only that the recruiter was off that day and the Royal Marine

recruiter talked us into joining the Royal Marines, and here we are. He laughed and told

us that we would go far.

He was impressed with our language skills and asked us about our lives, girlfriends and that

sort of thing, we told him that we had both got engaged last Christmas and were planning

on getting married next Easter, he told us about the process that we had to apply to get

married and all that it entailed, especially seeing we wanted to marry foreign nationals, we

never looked upon the girls as foreigners before.

Anyway he said that we had time to sort that out for now the task was to get your joining

routine squared away and meet the rest of the troop. Sergeant Philips had detailed Marine

Tom Evans to show us around the camps. Stonehouse Barracks was on two sights one site

was mainly accommodation, some offices and messes the other was all the workshops,

garages, training rooms, stores and pretty much all the working areas.

We continued our familiarisation tour and joining routine most of the afternoon with

Tom, he was a tall lad of twenty and had been in the Royal Marines for nearly three years,

he had dark hair and a heavy build, strong but softly spoken and came from Northern

Ireland. He told us not to bother going down to Union Street unless we fancied a punch up

with some Matlows, we said we were lovers not fighters, he laughed.

It took us a few days to get into the routine of our new rolls, we were effectively general

duty marines, which meant we were a bit like infantry soldiers in the Army. So our days

would start with a run normally about three miles before breakfast, after that we would

draw weapons from the armoury and spend the morning practicing our drills and skillsgetting ready for deploying to Northern Ireland in January, we were so looking forward to

it.

As we were going to deploy out in January we had Christmas leave to look forward too.

Marlin and Vinka had just finished their National Service just before Christmas and were

going back to the translation company to finish their apprenticeship to become fully

qualified translators at the beginning of January.

We flew out to Sweden and had a wonderful Birthday, Christmas and New Year in the

Lodge with the family, as a birthday surprise we announced our engagement and intention

to marry at Easter, the entire family were over the moon, I think Petra looked a tiny bit

disappointed but kissed me and wished us every happiness.

Johan and I deployed out to Northern Ireland on the 10th of January 1974 and upon arrival

in Belfast docks we were collected and taken to Lisburn for a flight on a Wessex helicopter

to Bessbroke Mill where we spent a fairly boring four months with very little going on

unlike Belfast and Londonderry.

All the exercises we had done prepared us for this tour, basically we would just patrol the

border, set up Observation posts and watch, fortunately for us this was a quite time, well it

was for us, most of the trouble was in Belfast and Londonderry particularly in and around

the Bogside and Creggan.

We were based at Bessbroke Mill and were going to do mainly rural patrolling and OPs for

four months, so all our training had evolved around that, Sanger duties, covertly moving

into hides and OPs, patrolling across open country and just border patrols along with

vehicle check points. We spent most of the time cold wet and board.

By the time we returned from Northern Ireland all the correct paperwork was in place for

us to get married in Sweden and Hitchin, we were even able to take over a two bedroom

flat between us in Plymouth before going on leave to get married. Being under 21 in the

Royal Navy or Marines we weren’t entitled to a quarter, so to save on rent we found a flat

to share. Everything was set for Easter leave and the wedding, as we had planned it. It just

couldn’t have gone any better, everything had dropped into place perfectly, even down to

the flowers, it goes without saying that Johan and I wore our Blues and the brides were

stunning in their wedding gowns.

We stayed in Stefan’s lodge with the rest of the family, Mum and Ron came over for the

wedding, we got married in the church we went to every Christmas day, the setting couldn’t

have looked prettier, there was still some snow on the hill tops, spring flowers were just

coming up and the church was looking lovely with fresh flowers on the alter, and just to put

the cherry on the cake the weather was perfect. We had the reception in the Community

hall for all our family and close friends.The hall was laid out just like a top table with the four of us and our parents all eight of

them, there were four legs running off the top table down the hall with the rest of the family

and friends. After the wedding breakfast came the speeches, as this was a joint wedding

Johan and I were each others best men, we started as a double act to thank everyone for

coming, thanked the brides maids, the parents, the Vicar and of course our Brides.

As tradition dictates Johan went first to tell of me and was so funny recalling some of the

times we had over the years, he had the audience in stitches, once they dried their eyes it

was my turn, how does one follow that. I started with the fact that Johan and I had been

together since we were babies in Poplar, I thanked my mum for going out to work and

letting Ingrid look after me and for teaching me Swedish, I then told how much I missed

Johan when he came here for summer and Christmas, I could feel the audience welling up.

I then thanked Greta, Olaf, Ingrid and Harry for accepting me into the family and bring

me to Sweden when I was seven, I then turned my attention to Johan and for him talking

all the time about me to Vinka before I came, I think she had a crush on me even before

we had actually met for the first time, I then went on to recall some of the wonderful times

we had growing up over the years and of the tough times having to say good by after our

holidays, I could tell there were a few lumps in peoples throats, I then went in for the kill

and told the audience of the first time I truly fell in love with Vinka, I don’t think there

was a dry eye in the house, I finished on a high and had everyone splitting their sides with

laughter.

It was Harry who finished with asking everyone to raise their glasses to toast the happy

couples, the rest of the day was spent the four of us going round and chatting to everyone,

reminiscing with family and friends, it was one of the best days in our lives and we were all

looking forward to our future together.

A couple of days later we boarded the ship in Gothenburg for Harwich with the girls car

all loaded up with their stuff, it was the first return of the season, and you guest it our

favourite singer was onboard and joined us for a night cap, the following morning we met

her for morning coffee in one of the lounges and caught up on all that had happened to us

since we were last on the ship.

That evening she tried to embarrass us by getting the four newly weds up on the dance

floor, it didn’t work, we although hadn’t said before while at school we also had ballroom

dancing lessons which we had taught to the girls while spending many a long evening

entertaining ourselves in huts in the middle of nowhere, the girls loved it and now could

see what all the fun was not waisted.

So here we were Marine and Mrs Heald and Marine and Mrs Heale arriving in Harwich for

the very first time, the following day we went to Hitchin Town Hall Registry Office and got

married for the second time in a week, Johan’s parents with my mum, her husband Ron,

my sisters Amanda and Tracey were there. Afterwards we went and had a meal in The SunOld Coaching Inn. Tim made it the following day as he missed his boat from the Hook to

Harwich for whatever reason.

Anyway Marlin, Johan, Vinka and I drove to Plymouth next day, where we had sorted the

flat out and moved into it before we left to get married, fortunately it was a fully furnished

flat so only had a few things to bring over with us from Sweden to make it more homely,

so the girls were very happy. It was round in Plymouth Hoe and was an old Georgian style

flat with high ceilings large windows and on the second floor looking out across Plymouth

Sound and Drake Island, it was amazing.

It had two large bedrooms, each with a double bed, a bathroom with a bath and shower,

a sitting room, dining room and spacious kitchen. The girls could use the dining room as

their office but we could still eat in there. It turned out that one of our neighbours was a

Sergeant in the Royal Artillery from the Citadel where 2 9 Commando Royal Artillery were

based and the other was a Matlow PO instructor from HMS Raleigh round in Devonport.

We had a few days leave left so were able to show the girls around the town and where to

shop, we sorted out our joint bank accounts, got them registered at the doctors, passes to

get onto camp, so they were independent if and when we went away on exercise, and being

in the flat together had each other for company and support.

When we returned to work after getting married Johan and I were put on some driving

courses, first we did a two week motorbike course with the test at the end which we passed

first time, then we did three weeks on landrovers with trailers on and off road we passed

that first time. The girls had us put onto the insurance for the car.

Those done we then went back to the Troop to prepare for an exercise. Johan and I loved

being Royal Marines at this time. The summer of 1974 our troop was sent to Cyprus,

where we stayed on until early November to help out four one Commando as part of a UN

Peacekeeping force to separate the Greeks and Turks and set up a border right across the

middle of the country. For this we received our second medal the UN Cyprus medal.

We came back in time for Christmas before getting ready to go to Norway in January for

Arctic warfare training, the bread and butter of the Royal Marines. We lived out of camp

in the flat with the girls and ran into work every day and back again, sometimes for lunch,

the girls had their translating work and had their routine, they generally spent four hours

in the morning and four hours in the afternoon translating and on completion of each

task would send off the work to the company back in Sweden and would get the next

assignment back in the post.

We decided to go to Sweden for Christmas and New Year and return ready to deploy

to Norway in January with the rest of the Commando force. So with all our new Arctic

warfare kit and equipment issued and packed we were bused round to Devonport and

boarded a ship bound for Norway. This was HMS Fearless which was a large amphibiouslanding platform which had four landing craft inside and carried about five hundred Royal

Marines if she was fully loaded, there was only about three hundred of us onboard.

Even though Johan and I were very good skiers we still had to do the complete training

package, we were completely at home on skis however it did have its challenges when it

came to carrying our bergens on our backs as they were a lot heavier than we had been

use to, dragging pulks for us was a doddle although again they had more weight in them.

We didn’t even mind doing the ice hole exercise as we use to love rolling in the snow

especially after a sauna, it wasn’t quite a sauna but they did have a warm tent to get changed

into dry kit after. Johan and I had a great time on this exercise and felt completely at home

in this environment, we can’t say the same for a few other members of the troop.

We had a rare opportunity to have a long weekend off just outside Voss and we asked

Lieutenant Dyer if we could stop in the town for the weekend if we booked a hotel, he

asked why and we told him that we could invite our wives over for the weekend, he didn’t

see why not and agreed.

We phoned the girls and told them if they could book a flight from Heathrow to Bergen

and got the train to Voss we would meet them there. Amazingly everything went to plan,

the girls arrived in Voss on Friday evening and would leave on the first train Monday

morning so we booked into the Flashers Hotel, which is the very nice old hotel just next to

the railway station in Voss, we had booked two rooms, which were very confortable, there

was a buffet breakfast and the evening meal was so good.

The day we hired skis and had a couple of days up on the slopes, in the afternoon we had

a sauna in the hotel, this had one way glass and it looked out onto the road, we watch the

traffic drive past. Saturday evening Lieutenant Dyer came to the hotel and joined us for

dinner to meet the girls for the first time.

After the girls returned to Plymouth on the Monday morning Johan and I reported back

to the camp just outside Voss where the troop was billeted, we had an interview with

Lieutenant Dyer and confirmed our plan we discussed over dinner, he couldn’t see any

issues but said when we got back to Plymouth he would help us sort out all the correct

paperwork so everything was above board for the girls to apply for British citizenship but

also keep their Swedish passports, effectively having dual citizenship.

Johan and I had already set up joint bank accounts and we paid for the flat and all the

house keeping bills and for food and for the car, while all the money that the girls earned

they put into a saving account along with any spare from the housekeeping for a rainy day

and one day for a deposit for a house. Coming from poorer beginnings we always looked

after every penny, never being wasteful.

We spent the rest of the year doing different training courses gaining new qualificationsand a few exercises. Lucky for us we were able to spend quality time with the girls. They

had found a local Aikido gym where they used their instructor qualifications and continue

with their own training, although we didn’t join in we did train a lot with the girls, we

would run and go to the gym together.

As this was our second year in Norway Johan and I were put onto advanced driving courses,

we started with driving four tonnes then went onto the BV 2 0 2 Snowcat, we had done

our other driving courses after we returned from Easter leave after our first Norway. This

was our continuation training, we didn’t really miss skiing. We finished off the exercise

learning to drive the Snowcats with troops being towed behind us, which was great fun,

we remembered it well.

Tim had been lucky enough to pass the entrance exam to join the Army the second time,

he got a real shock the first time, he failed the entrance test, the recruiter told him if he

couldn’t pass the test he had no chance. I remember him on that weekend, on the Saturday

he asked me to go for a walk with him, he told me what had happened and asked me what

he should do, my advice to him was go and get stuck into learning everything he could.

I believe that following Monday Tim had turned over a new leaf and attended every class

and put himself in detention everyday just so he could catch up on years of bunking off

school, he told me later that most of the teachers thought he was a new student who had

just joined the school. All his hard work must have paid off because the next time he went

to take the tests he passed, I think his mate Ron might have had a hand in it, anyway they

went to Cosham to the national recruiting centre and he came away with a place as a junior

soldier in the Queen’s Division as a Royal Anglian, I was very proud of him.

When Tim finished his Junior Soldier training he and his mates moved over to the adult

training course and joined them at their twelve week point to complete all the Infantry

training before being posted to the Second Battalion The Royal Anglian Regiment in

Munster, Germany the same town I had done an exchange in way back when. Tim told me

all about his training and being posted to the Regiment and he knew all about the history,

in training it had been noted about his reading and after a few test they made the diagnosis

he suffered from dyslexia, the education officer took him under his wing when he got to

the Battalion and helped sort out this issue.

I told him just how sorry I was to have missed his passing out parade but I had only just got

to Northern Ireland and couldn’t get leave, he understood fully. He told me he had been

picked to play rugby for the Battalion, after all he was a very good scrum half, fly half and

full back as he was comfortable in all three positions. He was making a name for himself

that was for sure.

Tim told me the reason he missed the wedding, he played in the BAOR Cup final for the

Battalion which they won, partly thanks to Tim scoring two tries, he had left immediately

after the match had finished and not even stayed for the celebrations, if the connectionshad worked he would have made it, unfortunately there was a minor hold up at the German

Dutch border and he arrived at the Hook just as the ferry was leaving.

I forgave him and said I would make it up to him one day. Tim was not all that lucky in

love, his girlfriend of many years during his school days left him when he joined the Army,

she had supported him all the way through Army Cadets but didn’t understand the full

implications of Army life, strange really when her brother had joined up three years earlier.

Tim’s Battalion was due to be posted back to Gillingham in England in June 1976 from

Germany, I’m not sure if this was good for Tim, anyway they came back and Tim and a

few of his mates got into motorbikes, I remember Tim and one of his mates Danny only

wanted British Bikes, Ron, mums husband helped Tim buy a Triumph Trophy 2 50cc, what

a lemon, he had nothing but trouble with it, he couldn’t go anywhere without the head

gasket blowing.

Harry and Bob a couple of his mates had Japanese bikes, Harry had a Honda 400 4 and Bob

had a Suzuki GT3 80 and another mate had a Suzuki X7 2 50cc that Tim had to borrow to

do his test on as his Triumph had blown the gasket on the morning of his test, he did fail it,

mainly due to popping a wheelie and nearly running down the examiner.

Next day Tim traded in his now hated Triumph for a Honda 2 50 G5, a couple of months

later he passed his motorbike test and promptly upgraded the Honda for a Suzuki GT5 50,

which he regretted as this was a very thirsty bike, it wasn’t long before he traded that for a

Suzuki GS7 50 which he stuck with for a few years.

The girls were fully qualified translators now and had regular assignments sent and worked

from home, when they finished all they had to do was post the manuscripts they had been

working on back to the office in Sweden and then the office would send them the next

assignment, as simple as that, for each completed assignment they were paid extremely

well, this would make a massive difference to our lives as time went on.

Johan and I returned to work after Easter leave having been in Norway for three months,

we were just getting used to the routine of married life when it was announced we would

be going on a four month exercise which meant leaving the girls again, although we were

used to being apart for months on end, so we just got on with it, we hadn’t planned on

going away this quick but we had no choice in the matter.

So with our kit packed we were bused round to Devonport and boarded HMS Fearless and

headed out of Plymouth Sound and continued south to Gibraltar for a resupply of stores

and fuel before heading into the Mediterranean for this exercise.

This exercise involved carrying out many beach landings from the landing craft both day

and night, it was fun and the times we ended up soaked to the skin before getting onto the

beach, the only up side was it was warm, I was glad it wasn’t Norway in the winter, wet inthe cold isn’t fun.

We had a few good runs ashore in Malta, Cyprus, Rome and Barcelona. I remember sailing

into Valletta harbour thinking what it must have been like here during the siege during the

war, you could still see some of the damage caused from that time. Johan and I spent some

of our time ashore just walking around the old town and harbour area seeing how life had

moved on and the rebuilding.

They gave us a few days off in Cyprus to do a bit of R&R, which mainly was drinking and

sunbathing on the beach. There were a few guys that got themselves into trouble in Ayni

Napa, this incident put a cloud over the whole deployment. Those perpetrators weren’t

aloud to go ashore in Barcelona and had to do guard duty.

In Rome we had a few official functions we had to attend, we also had the opportunity to

be tourist and visit places like the Colosseum, imagining what it would have been like to be

a gladiator back in the time of the Roman Empire. We were impressed with the taxi driver,

the traffic in Rome is totally mental, at times it was like a white knuckle ride, we survived

it and got back to the ship and left that evening.

Johan and I had a walk down memory lane in Barcelona, walking down the Les Ramblers

and visiting the bar we had dinner in those few years before. We were so looking forward

to returning home, fortunately there were no hiccups and we arrived back in Plymouth in

the middle of August and by the time everything was squared away we started three weeks

summer leave on the twenty-fifth, because the girls were very flexible with their work they

could take the same time off.

In our letters between us while we were away, we all decided that we would use the car and

travel around Britain as the girls had only been here a few times in the past and only been

to Hitchin, London and Plymouth, we would of course go to Sweden for Christmas if we

got leave.

On the first day of leave before we could set off we had to attend the Registry Office

in Plymouth for the girls to have their citizenship confirmed and collect the necessary

certificates to apply for their British Passports.

The girls had spent a couple of months planning our trip and found all the hotels and guest

houses we could stop in and all the things they wanted to see and do. We packed up the car

then set off for Dartmouth for a couple of nights to explore the local area.

We had a wonderful couple of days wandering around Dartmouth, we visited Dartmouth

Castle, Greenway House and took the ferry across to Kingswear then the steam train to

Paignton for lunch before returning to the hotel in the evening for a lovely dinner. The

following morning we checked out of the hotel and headed for Crickhowell in Wales where

we were going for a few days walking in the mountains.We booked into the Bear Hotel, an old world coaching inn full of character, once we got

settled into our rooms we went down to the bar and had a drink before having dinner in

the restaurant. We had a chat with the landlord about the routes we planned to walk over

the next few days, he was great and gave us some invaluable tips, where to park and start

our walks and routes to avoid.

The first day we parked the car opposite the Story Arms and walked up PenyFan, in fact we

did the Fan dance, our luck was in as the weather was perfect and on the tops we could see

for miles, the girls loved it and had no issue keeping up with us, mind you it wasn’t a race

and we were there to enjoy the walk, not kill ourselves. We covered about twenty miles that

day and returned to the Bear that evening.

Next day the landlord recommended we try walking Offa’s Dyke path, he agreed to drop us

off just outside Pandy and would pick us up when we got to Hay-on-Wye, it’s a great walk

and if you haven’t done it give it a go. Again the weather gods were smiling upon us, what

a grand day and the Landlord true to his word picked us up and took us back to the Bear.

After breakfast the next day we left and headed up country to Snowdonia and the small

town of Bala and booked into the White Lion Royal hotel, it was another old coach inn.

The next morning we walked down the road to the Bala water sports centre and hired two

Canadian canoes for the day to explore Bala Lake, again the weather was great and we had

so much fun that day.

The next day we were going to scale Snowdon up the Pig track, this was fun walking across

the knife edge, it was funny when we reached the summit, there were lots of people milling

around in trainers and flip flops, they had clearly come up on the train, we had a cup of

tea while taking in the views, which were magnificent, the weather again was pretty good,

although at times a few clouds formed then went away again, no sign of rain.

The girls had kept up their training while we were away and were very fit, they always had

been. They would go out running every day and they had permission to use the gym in

camp so were able to do some weight training, and of course their Aikido classes.

The next day we left Bala and drove to Blackpool and booked into a bed and breakfast, the

landlady at first appeared somewhat fearsome but soon warm to us when she found out we

were Royal Marines, especially owing that we said we were effectively on our honeymoon,

well we were as we hadn’t actually been away since we got married.

We went out that evening and had a wander along the Golden Mile and took one of the

trams back to the South end of the promenade where the bed and breakfast was situated.

At breakfast the next morning the landlady ask what our plans had been for the day, we

didn’t have a plan, she suggested that we should go to the Tower Ballroom for the tea dance

that afternoon, in the morning it’s worth going up the Tower itself.We took her advice and had a brilliant day, the views from the top of the Tower were

stunning, the weather gods had done it again, crystal clear views, we could see for miles.

We had mentioned it before but whilst at school we had ballroom dancing lessons, it was

a bit of a struggle at first trying to search the old grey matter to remember the steps to the

waltz, foxtrot and quickstep but quickly got back into it, the girls were very quick learners,

we had taught them whilst spending long nights in cabins in the wilds and lodge anyway

over the years.

We had such fun dancing we made up our minds to stay a couple of more days and dance

in the afternoons, we found a shop that sold dancing shoes and treated ourselves, then

went to the Winter Gardens and danced all afternoon. The next day we had lunch before

going back to the Tower Ballroom for the afternoon.

That evening the TV cameras were there recording an episode of Come Dancing with Katie

Boil as the host, we were very lucky to get tickets to watch, it was wonderful and the girls

loved every minute of it, so much so we stayed another day, inspired by the professionals

we went back to the Winter Gardens the next day.

Johan and I had to put our foot down or we would have still been there dancing forever, the

next morning we left Blackpool reluctantly and headed for Bakewell in the Peak District,

now just for a days walking as we were running out of time because of the time we spent

in Blackpool, before heading south to see our parents in Hitchin prior to heading back to

Plymouth and back to work.

While we were back in Hitchin it was nice to catch up with Harry, Ingrid, my mum and

Ron who we hadn’t seen since the wedding. We also popped round to the rugby club for a

pint and catch up with the boys, we couldn’t resist joining with the training and giving our

replacement nine, ten and fifteen the once over, it had been well over a year since we had

picked up a rugby ball, we did miss it a lot.

Johan and I talked about joining a local club when we returned to Plymouth, well that

never happened, as soon as we got back into work from leave we started training to go to

Northern Ireland again, only this time we would be deploying out in early December and

be there over Christmas, the girls were not amused and we were gutted, this would have

been only my second Christmas away from Sweden since I was seven, I had my eighth

birthday there and everyone up until my sixteenth.

We had a weeks leave in November just prior to deploying to Strabane to the south of

Londonderry, we know exactly what to expect as we had been there before. The only plus

I guess is that we would be back in March and we could plan on going skiing somewhere

great, we would let the girls make that decision, they of course would go to Sweden for

Christmas without us.We would write every opportunity we had of course but for some reason this time felt

different, maybe because it would be the first Christmas that Johan and I wouldn’t be in

Sweden for Christmas instead we would be on patrol in Northern Ireland, wet, cold and

thoroughly miserable, it was a massive challenge to be cheerful in the face of adversity.

We had a briefing that after Easter leave we would be going on a six month deployment to

the Caribbean, as we were coming up to our four year point and required to sign on if we

wished to stay in the Royal Marines, Johan and I had taken the massive decision to leave,

we love being Marines but not being away from the girls all the time.

Meanwhile Tim was having a great time in Gillingham with short exercises. His Battalion

had been warned off they were going to Berlin for a two year posting. When I told him

Johan and I were leaving he said why not come and join the Army and his Regiment. So he

had a word with his Commanding Officer and all the paperwork was put in place for us to

transfer to Tim’s Battalion that July after we left the Royal Marines.

The day after Johan and I officially left the Royal Marines we had to report to the Depot

The Queens Division at Bassingbourne Barracks for two weeks to draw new uniforms, get

them tailored and learn some Army drill, at the same time the girls were getting ready to

move out of the flat.

With the car packed the girls handed back the flat in Plymouth then drove to Gillingham

where we had been booked into a hotel for a few days by the Battalion, we were put on the

advance party to Berlin, and because we were driving over had to get a full briefing on how

to get through the Corridor from West Germany to Berlin.

We were very lucky that we were entitled to a quarter, and lucky they were next to each

other. The girls were very happy with the quarters in Berlin, for Johan and I it was very

busy meeting troops and families arriving to take over quarters and for the single guys

moving them into the barracks.

By the end of August 1978 the whole Battalion had arrived in Berlin. Johan and I were

assigned to three platoon A Company the same as Tim. We first met our platoon Sergeant

then platoon Commander then the Sergeant Major and finally the Company Commander

who took us to meet the Commanding Officer after a short chat.

It was agreed that Johan, Tim and I would attend the next potential junior NCO course

starting in a weeks time at the beginning of September, the course started with the Basic

Fitness Test which had to be passed to start the course, most of the time was spent teaching

us everything we needed to know to be a Lance Corporal, we learnt to make models and

give orders, how to direct attacks and direct fire, we learnt to take drill and had to do a lot

of it.

They also taught us all about duties and being a guard commander, six weeks later all threeof us were promoted Lance Corporal and elevated to the Corporals Mess where we were

welcomed by the Mess President the RSM, he went through the rules of the mess and what

behaviour was expected of us.

Because we were on better money and the girls were still working for the translating

company we took the opportunity to sell the old P144 Volvo, as we could buy a brand new

car tax free, we did but we thought it best to get a car each, they had a great deal on two

Volvo 244 2.1 litre turbo saloons in a choice of colors, Johan and Marlin had a red with

black interior while Vinka and I had a dark blue with black interior, both right hand drive.

We took delivery a few weeks later having used most of our savings to pay cash.

Berlin was great for saving money, most months we just managed on our LOA (local

overseas allowance) and were able to put most of our wages back into savings, with the girls

money coming in as well we soon replaced what we spent on the cars and were building

our nest egg back up nicely.

We rejoined three platoon as section second in commands. Berlin mainly consisted of

guards and duties and a lot of sport, for the three of us that meant rugby. Our first training

session was a lot of fun and the coach was very pleased we had come to the Battalion, all

three of us could play in all three positions, scrum half, fly half and full back plus we could

all kick as well.

We trained for the next couple of weeks before our first game against the Welsh Guards,

the whole Battalion was out to watch the game, the CO was over the moon that we beat

them 28 to 3. We became hero’s over night. All three of us scored try’s, Tim with two.

The duties in Berlin were varied in that there were camp guards, posting guys on the front

and back gates and mountain a fire piquet, then Brigade guards which meant manning

a guard post at the Headquarters, issuing passes and getting the blokes to escort visitors

around, there was Spandau Prison where Rudolf Hess was locked up, for us Lance Corperals

it meant we had to post the guards on the towers and also we manned the entrance gate,

the fun ones were the British Military Train along with Flag Tours into East Berlin.

The Flag Tours into East Berlin were brilliant fun as it meant we had a massive Opel Imperial

staff car and us dressed in our Number two dress going through Checkpoint Charlie into

East Berlin where we would have a tail of either Russian or East German guards that would

follow us around all day. It was just like going from a colour film to an old black and white

spy movie. We could also go over in the evenings to the theatre or restaurants with the

girls. You got four East marks for one West German mark, made everything cheap in the

East if you could get it, very limited supply’s.

Now the British Military Train was the best duty, although it meant an early start to be

at Charllottenberg station for six in the morning, at least you could expect a wonderful

breakfast in the Pullman style carriages on route to the first check point at Potsdam,where the train would go through the process of changing engines and having everyone’s

passports checked by the Russians.

This would take about an hour then it would travel through East Germany to Braunschweig

and then repeat the process again on the return journey all the while being served wonderful

food. I did hear of guys paying to do this duty. We took all our parents on the train when

they came to visit as a special treat.

The other great thing about Berlin is that other than the annual live firing exercises and

the odd call outs in the middle of the night which involved the whole Battalion mobilising

and drawing weapons and heading down to the Harvel for a landing craft crossing to the

Grünewald on the other side of the lake to set up defensive positions in the forest if the

Russians were to invade.

We had the use of the American PX and the French PX, although the French was only

good for cheese and wine to be honest. We were in the French PX one day and looking at

the array of wines on the shelf, a French soldier came up to us and said the wines from the

Medoc region were the best, I thought at the time he looked familiar, I felt I had seen him

before, but thought no more about it.

We had a visit from the Deputy Colonel in Chief Her Royal Highness The Princess Alice,

Duchess of Gloucester, the girls were so excited to be presented at the Corporals Mess, they

had a good chat with her, they told her how different it was being married to the army than

being married to the Royal Marines, it was nice to have their husbands home most days,

for them it was a great visit.

Where, Marlin, Johan, Vinka and I lived was a block of four flat type apartments only

about one hundred metres from the back wall, the other side of the wall was a large Russian

training area that was attached to their camp which housed a tank regiment, with their

T54/55 tanks, there were a few T72s as well but not many.

Our flats were on the second floor with the front doors opposite each other and inside were

a mirror image, they each had a large entrance hall with a kitchen on one side and a toilet

on the other, then a door which led into a large living room with a balcony over looking

the car park and children’s play area below, another door that led to three bedrooms and

the main bathroom. Because we had no furniture of our own we opted for fully furnished

which included everything right down to kitchen ware and sheets and bedding.

Because Berlin had to keep large stocks of food, incase there was another blockade, what

would happen rather than throw food away, the married men could order the going out

of date food and have it delivered to our front doors, we also had the Naafi shop plus the

American, French and local German shops plus hundreds of restaurants all over Berlin.

That first Christmas we stayed in Berlin and had Vinka and Marlin’s families to visit, Ithink this was the first time they had a Christmas outside Sweden, they had a wonderful

time, visiting the Christmas markets and then came to the Corporals Mess Christmas Ball

with us, what a fantastic night.

While Anna, Silvi, Erik and Lars were with us we managed to the get them on the British

Military Train for a trip down to Braunschweig for the day to pop into the Christmas

markets there. Back in Berlin we took them over to East Berlin for a lunch, I don’t think

they were that impressed, we did make up for it with Christmas dinner. Over dinner we

gave then the news that they would be grandparents in June, they were ever so excited.

Both girls had fallen pregnant in September and the babies due in June 1979, the strange

thing is they both had twins and both born on the same day around the same time, we each

had a boy and girl, all very healthy and we couldn’t be happier. Both sets of twins were born

in the British Military Hospital, Berlin. The following February Tim who lived just around

the corner from us had gotten married and had a daughter born in the same hospital.

Berlin was a terrific posting, in January 1979 Johan and I had spent a few months getting

ready for Junior Brecon, this was a tough course, we learnt how to plan and give lessons,

we learnt all about range safety to be able to supervise a range, we had to run every where

all the time, we found it relatively easy having done a lot of prep for the course and we

both passed with a distinction, on return to the Battalion we were promoted Corporal, a

bit more pay and responsibility as we became section commanders.

Returning from Easter the Battalion set to work getting ready for the Berlin Military Tattoo

where we were going to re-enact the Battle of Sorbraon using a couple of elephants from

the zoo. Our Company were going to be the Sikh troops and the rest of the Battalion were

going to be British troops, we did several rehearsals. The first full dress rehearsal was fun

where all the families had been invited to watch.

All was going well until the firing started and the elephants got spooked, which turned into

chaos, it was hilarious to watch, Vinka said she thought we might have been trampled by

the elephants, we did laugh. The actual Tattoo went off well enough in the end.

One of the major highlights of the tour of Berlin was the Queen’s Birthday Parade which

involved the whole Battalion along with all the other units based in Berlin. The Olympic

stadium was the venue and all the families were there to watch, the girls enjoyed the

experience of seeing the pomp and ceremony and the massed bands playing.

Just after summer leave Johan and I were sent back to England to do two courses, first we

went to Thatcham to do the Map Reading instructors course which takes you into great

depths of reading and delivering lessons, we spent a lot of time blind folded being driven

about and arriving at a destination, we then had only two minutes to pinpoint our location,

not easy when there were very little features to go by. We did pass the course.Next we went to Pirbright and did the All Arms Drill course, on day one we were issued

with a pace stick and two pairs of drill boots, and shown how to burn them down correctly,

then how to polish them to a high standard, one pair for best the other for everyday lessons.

The course concentrated on correct foot, rifle, sword, pace stick and words of command,

we spent many hours on the drill square, it was fun learning how to use pace sticks, there

was a competition at the end of the course, which involved marching up and back across

the square in slow and quick time with the pace stick, keeping in time with three other

course members, synchronised drill.

After we returned to the Battalion we were warned off for their next posting which would

be Londonderry. I thought great back to Northern Ireland but this time it would be a two

year residential Battalion posting accompanied, so the wives could go as well.

Shortly after the platoon commander called Johan and I in and asked us if we wanted to

go to the Depot as instructors, that was a no brain-er of course we jumped at the chance,

having already done two tours of the Province going again wouldn’t make much difference

to us.

So just after that Christmas leave where we had managed to return to Sweden, the eight

of us set off to The Depot The Queen’s Division at Bassingbourne Barracks near Royston

Hertfordshire and moved into quarters, again we were very lucky to be next door to each

other. While the girls were bringing up the twins they both kept up their translating work

to bring in extra money for the little luxuries in life and for a house deposit when the time

was right.

The quarters were not great so within the first couple of weeks we took the decision to buy

our own house in Hitchin. Johan and Marlin had the same idea, so that weekend we went

house hunting and found two four bedroom detached houses next to each other not far

from where my mum and Johan’s parents lived, we immediately put offers in which were

amazingly accepted.

These were built in the thirties and detached, were double fronted with the front door in

the middle of bay windows either side, the upper floor had three windows, two were the

front bedrooms and the centre one the landing, in the middle between the two houses

were the driveways leading to two double garages in the back gardens.

Inside both were very much the same with one of the front rooms as a lounge and the

other a study, there was a hall way from the front door leading to the stairs and a corridor

leading to the kitchen and dining room, off the kitchen was a utility room that led to the

back garden.

Upstairs there were four good size bedrooms, one with its own en suite shower, toilet and

wash basin, between the two rear bedrooms was the family bathroom. Above the landing

was a large trap door with a ladder that dropped down that led to a large attic for storage.Both houses need a fair amount of work and improvements plus decorating to bring them

up to standard, the girls were over the moon and were very happy.

Of course we needed to furnish them completely. While we were waiting to complete we

spent most weekends looking for furniture in second hand shops, but we did order new

beds, we needed everything, pots, pans, chairs and tables, fortunately there were built in

cupboards in the bedrooms so didn’t need wardrobes.

A few months later we moved in and out of quarters. Johan and I brought a motorbike each

to commute to the Depot on each day and left the girls with the cars. As Tim had raved

about his we brought a new Suzuki GS850 shaft drive each and used them for the next few

years, Johan and I were in the same platoon, Salamanca and had a section each. The good

thing about being at the Depot is we had a timetable and knew where and when things

happened, when leave was so we could plan our lives, well at least for two years anyway.

Gone of the days where we had lovely summers in Sweden and Easter holidays skiing

but at least we did get to go to Sweden at Christmas. Bringing up two sets of twins was a

challenge in itself especially when the girls had translating work to do, but they managed

brilliantly, with lots of help from Ingrid and my Mum who adored them.

It was very satisfying when our first platoon passed out and we had a couple of weeks leave

before the next lot started. For us it was just nice being at home for a change and able to

catch up on all the jobs around the houses, the girls loved having us at home spending

quality time with them and the kids.

We moved across to Talavera Platoon for our next intake, although it was hard for the new

recruits I don’t think they had it as tough as Johan and I when we went through Lympstone,

different type of training I suppose.

The great thing about living back in Hitchin we were able to go round to the rugby club

and not only have a drink with the lads but also get the odd game on a Saturday, just to

keep our hand in of course. The club had a great first team so Johan and I just played for

the seconds even though we were good enough to play in the first team we didn’t want to

upset anyone who trained and played regular.

As our time at the Depot was coming to an end our thoughts turned to being posted back

to the Battalion, as it was due back in October and was being posted to Colchester, the

conversation turned to whether we would move into quarters in Colchester or we would

commute. The girls took the command decision for us to commute from Colchester at

weekends, well we had the bikes anyway, the girls were happy with this as they were getting

the houses just as they wanted them and the kids were at nursery during the day so they

could get on with their work.

So that November Johan and I returned to the Battalion and were posted to four platoonin B Company. Other than the odd exercise life back in the Battalion was fairly easy and

we had most weekends off to go home after CO’s PT on Friday mornings. Then return on

Monday ready for work.

That first Christmas back in the Battalion we managed to get the girls up for the Corporals

Mess Christmas Ball while Ingrid and Harry looked after all the kids for the weekend,

we had a wonderful night and we all enjoyed it a lot, for some reason the mess dos in the

Battalion were better than at the Depot, I think because it was just the Battalion and not

other Regiments.

This worked well for about a year, Johan and I were summoned to the OC’s office one

Monday morning after summer leave and asked if we would like to go on Senior Brecon,

with no hesitation we both said yes at the same time. Over the next few months we worked

hard to prepare ourselves. That January 1984 Johan and I reported to start Senior Brecon,

this course concentrated more on live firing and working out fire plans and working out

safe boundaries, how to run a life firing exercise, the duties of a sergeant, how to run a

platoon and put together training programmes and Wright reports.

Again having done our research and preparation for the course we found it relatively

easy and both passed again with distinction. On returning to the Battalion we were both

promoted Sergeant and given a platoon each in C Company.

Getting use to life as Sergeants was a challenge to start with but we soon got stuck into the

job and settled into a routine of living in the mess from Monday to Thursday then slipping

away after COs PT on a Friday morning and riding home to our families back in Hitchin

for the weekends.

The Battalion were getting ready for a four month tour of Northern Ireland and we worked

hard with our platoons to get them ready, we missed out on the two year posting in

Londonderry, so were looking forward to a tour in Belfast. The tour was fairly uneventful

with only a few minor incidents to deal with, our platoons did themselves proud.

For Johan and I this was a different type of tour for us, previously we had only done rural

patrolling totally different to urban patrolling we now did in the Ballymurphy and Moyard

from New Barnsley Police station. Fortunately we returned with all our troops in tacked

and didn’t lose anyone. We did have a couple of riots but our public order training prepared

us well.

During our tour the Battalion had been warned that they were to move to Cella in Germany

for at least five years, this was and wasn’t good news, the girls were very happy and settled,

our mum’s often came round and looked after both sets of twins so the girls could go to the

Intelligence Corps TA unit attached to the SAS TA unit in Hitchin which they had joined

and loved.With their background in the Swedish Intelligence Service they found it easy when they went

for two weeks basic training down at Ashford in Kent which at the time was the Intelligence

Corps training depot, on completion of their initial training they were promoted Lance

Corporal as all Intelligence Corps personnel were. They had to do a specialist Intelligence

course to work with the Special Air Service plus had to have Developed Vetting done.

Returning to Colchester after our tour of Northern Ireland things got extremely busy for

the Battalion getting ready to move to Cella, for Johan and I getting our platoons ready for

the move ensuring that all the paperwork was done, all the stores were packed along with

personal kit ready to be shipped out to Germany, the married men had applied for their

new quarters. There were many briefings on the process for the move.

We again took the collective decision to go unaccompanied to Cella with the Battalion.

When Johan and I arrived in Cella and moved into the Sergeant’s Mess we then got to

work getting the platoons settled with unpacking all the stores and moving into the offices,

the single blokes accommodation was sorted and all the married men had their quarters

sorted and all the issues dealt with.

Johan and I only managed to get home once a month for a long weekend. We had only

been in Germany six months when the CO asked us if we wanted a Depot posting as

platoon Sergeants, again a no brain-er and four weeks later we arrived home for a couple

of weeks leave before starting back at the Depot.

Life as a platoon Sergeant was a little easier than a section Corporal, you had a bit more

time although there was a lot more paperwork that needed doing, but that goes with the

job. That two years flashed by and by October Johan and I were on our way back to the

Battalion, there was a air of gloom over the Battalion as the powers that be thought it a

good idea to announce cuts to manpower in the Army and some redundancies were on

the way.

The girls were having a great time with the TA on weekends and exercises. I had a long

chat with Johan and when we got home that weekend had another long chat with the girls,

collectively we had come to a unanimous decision that we would apply for redundancy

and see what happens.

When we arrived back at the Battalion that Monday morning we both applied and were

granted redundancy, as we had signed for 22 years, the package was generous and that

gave us enough money to clear our mortgages and have plenty left over for a rainy day,

with that and a full pension we were laughing. We de kitted through the Depot and did a

couple of driving courses, class 1 truck and bus, we couldn’t think of what else to do for

our resettlement.

We had thought we would have a go at joining the TA Special Air Service, as it was only

round the corner and the girls were in the Intelligence section anyway it seemed a goodidea at the time. So one Saturday morning in January Johan and I reported to the Duke of

York Headquarters just off Sloane Square in London for the initial process. This consisted

of about a hundred blokes all standing around in this big hall and getting a briefing before

being split down into groups.

There was this little Jock RSM who stood on the stage he said “ right lads listen up I’ll give

you some advise, all of you who smoke put your hands up” a couple of dozen blokes put

their hands up, then he said “all of you that don’t take sugar put your hands up” again a

couple of dozen put their hands up, he then said “all of you that smoke quit all of you that

don’t take sugar start”, there was a bit of a chuckle heard around the hall.

That was it we were then split into groups some went outside and ran around the track

while others did some paperwork, while others saw the doctor, then we all changed

around. Johan and I went round together, out on the track they told us we had ten and a

half minutes to do twelve laps which was a mile and a half, Johan and I did the twelve laps

in just under nine minutes, big mistake, we had to do another couple of laps.

The first of many sickner’s, but it was all in good fun. At the end of the day we were told

we could start selection, which was in three phases: Selection (the hills), Camp (two weeks

testing) and Continuation (instruction) before being accepted into the SAS you had to pass

every phase. Johan and I were to report to Hitchin T A centre that Wednesday evening by

seven o’clock with our PT kit. Again there were a lot of blokes there so we were split down

into groups.

One group would do map reading another group would do PT and another group some

more paperwork. The map reading was a piece of cake as Johan and I were already map

reading instructors although we didn’t let on as we wanted to be the grey men.

The PT was a bit brutal as it was running around and around the gym doing press ups,

berpees and all manner of exercises until people started to fall out to be sick. Most of those

that did we didn’t see again. It was explained that we would need to do our own physical

training in our own time. Johan and I trained for five days every week except Wednesday

and Friday. Wednesday was drill night and we would get SAS PT, Friday was a rest day.

The paperwork was just confirming our details and any previous experience etc, of course

we had to tell them that we had been Royal Marines and were a couple of Infantry Sergeants

who had just taken redundancy, they said that wouldn’t count for anything as everyone

was treated the same and everyone started as a Trooper.

It was six weeks before our first proper training weekend, that is after everyone passed the

map reading test, those that didn’t, we didn’t see them again. We had to be at the TA centre

no later than six pm Friday as the coach would leave without anyone who didn’t make it.

The coach left spot on six and headed for the M4, we stopped at Leigh Delamare services

and met up with a couple of other coaches that had come from other Squadrons, then setoff again.

We arrived at as far as I could tell an old army camp and told to get off the coach with all

our kit and to bed down for the rest of the night in a lean too. I don’t think anyone slept

much expecting the DS to start mucking us about, but they didn’t, at about five they told

us to get up have a wash and shave and get into PT kit, that was boots, denims and PT vest.

At five thirty we then did the BFT (basic fitness test) that every soldier has to pass. One

and a half miles as a squad in fifteen minutes then a mile and a half in under ten and

a half minutes. All those that passed that were then split down into groups of ten and

huddled around and were briefed by the DS as to where we were going, we then set off

at a reasonable pace but nothing excessive to do the eight mile CFT (Combat fitness test)

carrying 25kg in two hours. We lost a lot of blokes that didn’t complete the time, they were

never seen again.

Every man had a map and compass and was expected to know exactly where we were at

any given moment as the DS would say to a man “you take point, do you know where we

are, show me, do you know where we are going, show me and off we would go.

After this weekend the next drill evening they replaced map reading with weapon handling

and of course more PT which progressively got harder, we still went to the hills every other

weekend. On one of these weekends we had to do the basic swim test, this every man had

to strip naked and on command jump off a platform about five foot off the water and swim

around the edge of the cold pool three times, we were told that before we finished the

course we would have to pass the combat swim test in full combats, webbing and rifle, a

forty metres swim with the bergan, after the forty metres you have to hand up the bergan,

rifle and webbing then swim a further two hundred metres. Johan and I had done this in

Marine training, its hard but knew we could pass it.

That first couple of weekends were a gentle shakedown to weed out anyone that wasn’t fully

prepared for the course, Johan and I had kept up our training along with the girls, we also

trained at the rugby club although we didn’t play any games for fear of getting an injury. So

we were prepared as much as possible for the course. Because Johan and I hadn’t bothered

to get ourselves a job we had plenty of time to train, we also had plenty of spare time with

not much to do as our houses were now properly up to standard, and only needed regular

maintenance.

We thought it a good idea if we got a couple of old bikes to do up, we started looking and

this bloke from the rugby club told us of a bloke looking at getting rid of four old bikes in

his shed. So we contacted this bloke and went round to have a look, we almost passed out

when he lifted the dust sheet off these four bikes, there were two Manx Norton’s an M30

and M40 (3 50 and 500cc) complete with a load of spares.

Then if they weren’t the top of the tree he also had two MV Augusta, one a 3 50 and theother a 500cc plus a load of spares and all the workshop manuals. You could have knocked

us down with a feather when he said all he wanted was a grand a piece for them, four

thousand pounds changed hands quicker than a flash of lightning.

We spent some of our spare time restoring them to their former glory, one day hoping to

take them to a track day for fun. We started with the 3 50 Manx and stripped it right down

to the frame which needed a couple of spot welds and painting, we decided to get it nickle

plated as this would last longer and also look great. Next we stripped the engine completely

and replaced the big end bearing, everything else in the engine was sound.

We heard of a British company that did eletronic ignition conversions for old bikes, so

we contacted them and they sent us four sets to convert all of the bikes. While having the

frame done we also had the wheels done at the same time plus a few other bits. We also

made a new wiring loom which was simple enough. The fairing just needed a little bit of

TLC and once we had it all put back together it looked amazing.

It being a full on race bike it didn’t have a kick start but needed a bump start, it fired first

push and sounded awesome, we each took it to the end of our road and back, we couldn’t

wait to get started on the next one, so made a start on the MV 3 50 and did the same.

As the weekends went on which were every other weekend they progressively got harder

until we came to test week. This for us was a bit like Commando test week culminating in a

45 mile march called ‘long drag’, both Johan and I completed the test week well within the

time and were then allowed to attend Camp the second phase.

The drill nights and weekends leading up to Camp started, which were a lot more interesting.

The funny thing with SAS training nobody shouts or hollows they take the attitude that if

you haven’t got the self discipline and motivation to be there then it’s no skin off their nose.

On drill nights we learnt a lot more about different weapon systems and on the weekends

we learnt about tactics, moving and crossing obstacles without making a sound or being

seen, we did river crossings and more PT lots of PT building stamina and endurance.

By the time we came to the two week camp our numbers were greatly reduced, from the

original hundred or so we were down to about thirty five. So we were off onto Camp. We

did a lot of ranges firing initially our SLRs to zero them then to pass the annual personal

weapons test, we then moved onto pistols, then foreign weapons. We also did lots of patrols

and were taught how to make a Observation post and the tasks needed, not much different

from our first Northern Ireland tour.

The last few days of camp were extremely tough as we hardly had any sleep, this was done

so we were in the final stage of Camp and would be captured and have to go through

TQ (Tactical questioning). Being captured by regulars, they weren’t very nice to us, they

treated us very roughly, but this was nothing compared to the interrogators who wereprofessionals. The only thing we could say was Name, rank, number, date of birth and I

cannot answer that question Sir or Ma’am.

All I can remember was how uncomfortable the positions we were kept in for hours on end

and how cold it was, I had been taken in for questioning a few times and had some very

big blokes shouting into my face, then I had this very pretty woman start, I was stripped

naked, I very nearly bit when she laughed at my willy, I bit my tongue and stayed silent, it

was humiliating but I stayed on script. Next the DS came in and told me the exercise was

over, did I understand, I said I cannot answer that question, he said son it’s endex, thank

the lord.

Johan and I agreed that was the toughest thing we have ever been through, we had passed

this stage of the course and arrived home that Sunday evening totally exhausted, thankfully

we unlike some other blokes didn’t have to get up and go to work on the Monday morning.

We did lose a lot of blokes on Camp.

We were onto the final phase of the course, Continuation. We were told that this would

be different from the other two phases, this was all about instruction and tests, it would

follow drill nights every week and every other weekend, you cannot miss any or you will

be off the course.

Over the next few months we learnt about chemical warfare, advanced first aid, more

patrolling, SAS tactics and a lot more besides, at the end of the course there would be

written tests in all subjects that had been covered over the entire course which we had to

pass, then also the practical tests, at the end of all that if you passed you would then be

badged. Johan and I along with two other lads passed, and were presented our sand berets

by the CO, no big parade just handed them with a welcome.

Because we had plenty of time on our hands we were able to get booked onto lots of courses.

Of course we did our parachute training first over at No1 Parachute Training School, Brize

Norton, that was fun, apart from the balloon drop that is. For that you go up in a balloon

with a basket underneath, it was strange there was silence apart from the noise from the

road below, you then get the instruction to step out, the drop was horrible, then the chute

opened, I think my balls ended up in my neck, ouch.

Next we moved onto Hercules aircraft, it was a little better jumping out of these, we did

six daylight jumps then we had two night jumps, fortunately for us it all went according to

plan, we passed and this entitled us to wear SAS Wings, but only on number 2 dress and

later on blues and mess kit, in combats we just wore normal para wings.

Next we had to do the combat survival and interrogation course, which was the toughest

course we have ever done, I think being on the run wearing old clothes and an old smelly

great coat living off the land and getting practically no sleep, then getting captured it was

horrible, but the interrogation phase was worse than on Camp, but we did pass, just.Over the next couple of years we did loads of exercises and training courses, I enjoyed the

explosive course, blowing things up, we also practiced morse code which came back to

us after all those years and all the different signals equipment, then we were promoted to

lance corporal. We did lots of exercises with the girls on intelligence tasks.

The girls were offered a chance to work with the regular SAS in Northern Ireland for four

months, the reason being that there wasn’t any Int staff ready with the right qualifications

or clearances of which the girls had and had just been promoted to Sergeant. So off they

went which meant Johan and I were left at home to look after the kids, we now understood

what it was like on the home front, you are permanently on tender hooks waiting for that

knock on the door, of course Ingrid and mum helped out while Johan and I were away

with the TA.

The job involved working with the SAS on known targets and collating all the information

and intelligence gathered and working with the guys on arresting and interrogating said

IRA or other terrorists of interest, their work led to many convictions. They did a great

job and received a GOC Northern Ireland Commendation at the end of their tour and the

Northern Ireland medal.

Vinka and Marlin had their interrogator qualification having done the Long I course and

off the back of their successful tour of Northern Ireland the Regiment ask them to be

Interrogators on both the regular and reserve survival and interrogation courses, they also

manned check points on the hill phase weekends, they loved it.

Johan and I did specialist driver training on all sorts of vehicles along with maintenance in

the field. We already had our motorbike, car, lorry and bus licences. We did lots of off road

driving in Unimogs and landrovers along with recovery tactics, for this we spent six weeks

in Oman driving in the desert, a fantastic experience, its funny just how quick our Arabic

came back to us, we hadn’t really used it since leaving school. Although we didn’t know it at

the time but both the driving techniques and Arabic would come in handy not long after.

We decided to add to our old motorbikes to do up in the shed, which was a great success.

So we got a couple more and before we knew it we had a dozen bikes between us. Just for

fun we taught the girls to ride motorbikes, we brought a couple of 2 50 Hondas for them to

learn on, one of us on our old GS 8 50s would lead and the other follow, we stop regularly

to give tips and soon they passed their tests. On nice days we would all go out on the bikes

with the kids on the back with a picnic and have a grand day out.

The girls enjoyed helping us work on the bikes and decided to find a couple of bikes of their

own, Vinka found a Triumph 650 Thunderbird and Marlin a Triumph 650 Bonneville and

spent a lot of time completely restoring them from the ground up so they knew every nut

and bolt, both frames needed a little work before they were powder coated, the engines had

a full rebuild as well, but the time they finished they looked great.Fortunately Johan had finished restoring his BSA 650 A10 Gold Flash and I had just

completed my 750 Norton Commando. We used a British company who made electronic

ignitions for old British bikes so converted all our bikes, makes a lot of difference, far more

reliable and less prone to stopping.

The girls when they had finished restoring their bikes couldn’t wait to go for a ride, so we

had a little trip planned to ride down to the coast and book a hotel for the night and rode

back the next day, not one of the bikes faulted, we were a very happy bunch of bikers.

In August 1990 the first Gulf war kicked off and the four of us had the opportunity to

deploy to Saudi Arabia with 2 2 S A S, the girls as Int support they were both Sergeants

and had already worked with the regulars in Northern Ireland, Johan and I with a couple

of other guys from our Squadron were asked if we would mobilise and deploy as driver

support to the Regiment.

Immediately after all the paperwork was completed we reported to Sterling Lines in

Hereford to be upscaled with kit and equipment and given weapon systems we may need,

we were given M16s with M203 grenade launchers attached, and Browning 9mm pistols,

the girls just had Browning 9mm pistols and the standard SA 80 rifles. Johan and I took

over a Unimog which we used right throughout the war.

A couple of weeks later once we were fully embedded into the Squadron we moved off in

convoy to Brize Norton to catch a flight to the UAE, it was amazing that they loaded the

complete Squadron with all our kit and equipment along with tons of other stores on the

massive Galaxy aircraft.

We had all arrived at the same time and the girls got straight to work in the Int Cell while

Johan, the other lads and I sorted out our vehicles. We were up at six in the morning and

saw on CNN that the allies had started to bomb Baghdad, this was the start of the air war.

Later that morning the Director Special Forces called the entirety of the SAS there into the

cook house, this was the largest concentration of SAS since the second world war, he stood

on a table in the middle and told us to gather round.

Stating the obvious he said that the air war had started, we had seen this on CNN all

morning, he then told us that DLB (General De la Billiere) had a meeting with General

Schwartzkopf who said that we could invade behind enemy lines and create havoc.

We were waiting to move into Saudi Arabia to make final preparations so the guys could

invade Iraq, finally we flew to the FMB (Forward Mounting Base) on the Saudi Iraq border,

on arrival there was total chaos, there was a siren whaling and people running around like

headless chickens in full NBC kit complete with respirators on, the Iraqis had fired their

first Scud missiles at Israel.When things finally calmed down we found a place to get a wet and get our heads down

until daybreak, when we could start making final preparations to invade Iraq and start

causing chaos behind their lines.

The girls were getting a hard time trying to get any real intelligence from anywhere on the

exact situation on the enemy positions and makeup of their strength, weapon systems,

communication, morale and anything of any use.

A few days later Johan and I were attached to a half Squadron and warned off that they

would need our Unimogs for this operation and both of us to man it, we had a GPMG

mounted on the front along with our M16s, M203s and Browning pistols. We were carrying

explosives for the job, ammunition, water, fuel and spares for the vehicles along with extra

rations.

The half Squadron was made up of eight V8 pinky land rovers with four blokes on each,

two motorbikes and Johan and I on the unimog, thirtysix in all. The landerovers carried a

range of weapons from GPMGs, fifty cal machine guns and grenade launchers, we also had

Milan anti tank missile systems and a load of sixty six LAWs, to say we were heavily armed

was an understatement, of course Johan and I carried all the extra ammo.

Our mission was to cause as much confusion and destroy communications, fibre optic

cables, vehicles and equipment, to lower the enemies morale as possible, fairly straight

forward a task, oh without getting caught.

Once we finally crossed the border it took us two nights to reach the final layup point where

we replenished the other vehicles with fuel, water and food and gave them the explosives to

do the first job with. They left on foot to sneak into this communications compound. We

were left to man the FRV and wait for their return before heading on to the next target, the

night was clear and very cold.

Everything was going to plan on the objective, as the comms tower blew up, we were

attacked by an overwhelming force back at the FRV, Johan and I went on the offensive

and charged the attackers in our Unimog with me driving and Johan on the GPMG, I

fired a couple of 203 rounds off hitting one of their vehicles, I don’t think they expected

us to attack with such force and having killed and destroyed a few of their vehicles the

remainder ran away.

Fortunately the raiding party arrived back and we quickly briefed the patrol commander

on what had happened and were able to get underway before the Iraqis were able to regroup

and counter attack. For this decisive action we were both awarded the Military Medal for

saving the patrol and all the vehicles which would have been captured had it not been for

us and the quick action we took.

Travelling at night and laying up during the day, the issue was trying to find places tolayup which we could defend and also have an extraction route out. The area we were

operating in was generally flat as a pancake. All the vehicles were under cam nets, we had

half a dozen guys on sentry in all round defence ensuring that if anyone approached our

possition we could react swiftly. Everyone else were able to get their heads down having

done all their admin jobs out of the way first, if we had to bug out it only took less than a

couple of minutes, stuff the dossbag away cam net off, start the engine and away, everyone

knew exactly what to do, this only happened once just before dusk.

We had been behind the lines for two weeks when we received our first resupply by

helicopter, we arrived at the RV and setup all round defence, with sentries posted and the

rest of us waiting for the aircraft to land and dump the supplies off so we could distribute

around the patrol. We of course had the lions share on our vehicle.

When chinnock’s land they kick up a massive amount of dust and sand, once this had

settled with got to unloading all the stores, we were expecting a load of jerry cans to replace

the empty ones but instead they kicked off half a dozen two hundred litre drums and we

were expected to refill our cans, this took an age once the helicopter left, it also left us a

load of arab winter coats which were god sent, we looked just like the war time S A S.

Once all the vehicles had been refuelled and all the jerry cans had been refilled we

distributed ammo and rations then loaded everything else onto our waggon ready to move

off. Over the next few days we were hampered by some extreme weather, the like not seen

for decades, the arab coats were good but did retain water and became very heavy but did

keep us warm.

Our next target was to locate a fibre optic cable and destroy it, from the intelligence we

had they could be found running along side the MSR (main supply route), fortunately the

Iraqis were kind enough to mark the run of the cables with a sign and a raised manhole

cover, unfortunately the manhole covers were alarmed, lift the lid an a patrol would be

despatched.

The way we delt with this was to dig down several metres from the manhole cover, locate

the cable and secure a rope around it and using a landrover we just drive off pulling the

cable up, cut it and lay a few booby traps for the engineers to find when they came to repair

it.

We had two further resupplies during the time we were in Iraq, these were nervous times

as we were vulnerable with a Chinnock on the ground, fortunately we got away with it,

in all the contacts we had with the Iraqis we didn’t suffer any casualties at all, a couple of

blokes did come close to getting frost bite though.

The second resupply was done by four tonners and with them they brought some REME

types to make some repairs to the vehicles, all four half Squadrons had arrived here

together, while we were taking and distributing the stores, the RSM had called a Sergeantsmess meeting, by all accounts this was the first mess meeting behind enemy lines ever.

After that resupply we had new instructions to go scud hunting and destroy any we found.

The US Air Force had destroyed the fix launchers but the bigger problem was the mobile

launchers. By all accounts it takes about six hours to set up and fire a scud from a mobile

launcher, once they had fired it they were gone.

We only came across one mobile launcher which was hiding underneath a road intersection,

without a missile, we decided to wait to see if it was going to be resupplied with a missile

before attacking it, we waited and waited but no missiles turned up, we were almost

discovered, so waiting no longer the lads took it out with a Milan, boom, one less to worry

about.

As the scud launcher blew up we started to take incoming, time to bug out, using fire

and manoeuvre we extracted into the dusk, an hour later we stopped to take stock and

hand out ammunition, then we moved off again into the night. After this we headed back

towards Saudi and our FMB.

During the six weeks we spent behind the lines in Iraq the team destroyed fibre optic

cables, a communication sites and numerous vehicles, equipment and one scud launcher,

this was at times both exhilarating and scary, we had several contacts with the Iraqis, I

think that fortunately for us the Iraqis were poorly trained and poorly led. They were

mostly ineffective with fire as I think that most fired with their eyes closed.

When we arrived back at our base in Saudi there was a signal informing us we had both

been promoted to Corporal just prior to us leaving for Hereford. The Girls were already

Sergeants in their own right and were so pleased for us. Vinka and Marlin were able to

keep a watch on our activities while we were in Iraq seeing all the reports coming in from

all the patrols, they knew we had saved the patrol with our swift action.

We heard that a patrol, Bravo Two Zero had been compromised and captured, only one of

them had escaped into Syria, a massive feat on his part. It wasn’t known about the others

at this time, until they popped up on CNN infront of the worlds press.

The girls told us once things got going they were seeing images of the targets we had

attacked from the AWAC and other aircraft that was monitoring the ground war, half way

through the campaigne they were getting some useful intellegence and were able to direct

the teams in Iraq onto targets to better effect.

By the time the war fighting phase was over we made preparations to sort out all our kit,

vehicles and equipment to return to the UK, we were flown back on the Galaxy to Brize

Norton then a road move to Hereford, we spent a couple of weeks being fully debriefed and

handing back all the stuff we had signed for before being demobbed and a spot of leave.Shortly after we returned to Hitchin and the kids, we have our mothers to thank for looking

after them while we were away. All six of us who had deployed received our Gulf War

Medals one drill night from the CO who came down just to give them to us, he thanked us

for a great job we had done, he told us that DSF (Director Special Forces) sent his thanks

as well on the excellent work we had all done..

The day before Johan and I were to be presented our Military Medals by The Queen, all

four of us went up to London on the train and stopped in the Special Forces Club for the

night. Next morning Vinka, Marlin, Johan and myself went to Buckingham Palace all

dressed in our best Blues to receive our MMs from Her Majesty The Queen which was a

great honour.

The taxi that took us to the Palace didn’t charge us for the ride but thanked us for our

service, we found that most humbling. He dropped us off at the north gate where we were

met by one of the Palace staff who escorted us into the inner courtyard and then into the

Long room and briefed on the protocol and how to conduct ourselves when meeting The

Queen.

Johan went first and had a few minutes with The Queen after she presented him his medal

then I followed him, The Queen also had a chat with me after she had presented me my

medal, she knew what we had done to earn our medals, she said how brave we had been,

I said you would have done the same for your mates, she laughed, I bowed and took my

leave.

Throughout the rest of the 90’s life had moved along with all four of us enjoying the TA

and doing stuff that we wanted to do, the kids were doing very well at Johan and my old

Grammar school and all four of them were near top in their year in nearly all subjects, we

were so proud of them. We continued to play a bit of rugby at the club mainly for the twos

and vets just to maintain our fitness and have fun.

The summer of 1992 down at the rugby club they announced they were forming a women’s

team for the first time, over the years the girls enjoyed throwing a ball around with Johan

and I, they had always watched us and thought they would join the team, they had always

been fit and physical anyway.

They trained on a Tuesday and Thursday the same evening as the men’s teams, they

managed to secure positions at nine and ten the same as Johan and I, we gave them lots

of tips and by the time of their first match in a friendly against Old Albanians Saints their

women’s side, both Marlin and Vinka played very well with Marlin scoring the first try and

Vinka kicked the conversion, then Vinka scored two trys and kicked her own conversions.

One of the other girls scored a try and Vinka kicked that conversion as well.

It was a great game and the Saints matched score for score and ended in a draw, the club

laid on a great meal afterwards, the girls loved it and couldn’t wait for the next game. Overthe next few years as more women’s teams formed. A league was set up and the girls were

a part of it. Johan and I supported them fully as they supported us.

As the kids were nearing leaving school all four of them wanted to go to university and

after taking the tests were all offered places at either Oxford, Cambridge or St Andrews, a

tough choice for them, as none of us had been to university we couldn’t offer any advise but

said we would support them all the way in what ever decision they made.

Marlin, Johan, Vinka and I all loved our motorbikes and by now we all enjoyed working

on them and rebuilding them in our spare time. As the kids were growing up we had a bit

more time so we use to get the bikes out and go off camping for the odd weekend.

Johan came up with the idea of taking the bikes for a little trip to France and call in to see

if Claude was still at his vineyard and if the cash of weapons were still in his barn. The girls

were up for it so Ingred said she would keep an eye on the kids, so a ferry was booked from

Portsmouth to St Malo and we were off.

As we boarded the over night ferry the sound of our bikes certainly turned a few heads,

there is something about the sound of British bikes that fills you with pride. We watched

as the ferry guys strapped down our bikes, then headed up to our cabins then into the bar

for a night cap before heading to our cabin and a good nights sleep.

An early breakfast before leaving the ship and the ride south towards Royan to catch the

ferry across to Verson then on to Pauillac in the hope that Claude was still there and alive,

he would have been seventy now. We stopped off at a Routier just south of Nantes for

lunch, before pressing on towards Claude’s.

We arrived at the ferry at Royan with half an hour to spare, as we rode off the ferry at

Verdon we had about three quarters of an hour to the château, with a bit of apprehension

we pulled up outside the small château of the vineyard where we had stayed with Claude

all those years ago in the hope he was still alive and he remembered us, as we turned the

bikes off this old man appeared at the door, we recognised him immediately, as I took off

my helmet I called a greeting to Claude, his reaction was priceless.

He greeted us so warmly and welcomed us all into his home, it was like stepping back in

time, nothing had changed except our age, over a glass of wine Claude and Edith had often

wondered what had happened to us over the years. He asked us to stay for a few days, we

accepted without reservation. His wife Edith, cooked a fabulous meal and we chatted long

into the night.

Next morning Claude took us to the barn, the cash was still there, no one had ever came

to collect them, we said we would arrange to have them collected when we returned to

England, the funny thing is they were still in perfect working order as they still had the

grease and packaging on from when they were dropped.Claude’s son Henry came to the château and we met him for the first time, or so we thought,

he was as charming as his father, he told us that Claude had talked about nothing else but

us when he returned from his school trip all those years ago, he said he wondered if he

would ever meet us.

While we were sat having lunch Henry said had we ever been in Berlin, turns out that after

he had finished university he was conscripted into the French army and was in Berlin at

the same time as us, he remembers seeing us in the French PX looking at wine but didn’t

put two and two together at the time. Vinka said you were the soldier who told us that the

Medoc was a good wine, we laughed, what a small world. It was then I noticed the picture

on the side board and remembered why he looked familiar, it was him we met in the

French PX, we all laughed again.

Henry told us that Claude had been approached several times over the years by the

Rothschild’s to sell his vineyard to them, mainly because of the quality of the grapes he

produced, Claude’s passion was passed onto Henry and Henry’s passion passed to his two

sons, Thomas and Pierre all were determined to keep it in the family. There passion was

infectious and we also caught it and wanted to help where we could.

Henry asked if we would like to help with the grape harvest in September in return for a

few bottles of fine wine, we didn’t need much encouragement and agreed to return for a

couple of weeks in the autumn. So we returned a couple of months later to help with the

harvest, we built up a lovely relationship with Claude, Edith, Henry and Marie, they were

wonderful people, we did manage to return most years to help with the harvest when time

and operations would allow.

When we returned to the Regiment we told the CO of the weapons cash at Claud’s and he

arranged for us to go with a couple of Royal Engineer Officers from EOD to sort out the

cash and bring back the non dangerous stuff and blow up the dangerous stuff having sort

permission from the French authorities first.

We had the opportunity to gain all our sailing qualifications at the Joint Services Adventure

Sail Training Centre down in Gosport gaining not only our Yacht master Offshore tickets

but also our Cruising Instructor tickets as well. We were encouraged to organise sailing

expeditions for the lads in the Squadron, we also took a few boats out from the British Kiel

Yacht club. We had organised a two week sailing expedition around Denmark.

We were issued a stack of CILOR (cash in lieu of rations) and two minibuses which took

us and twelve blokes from the Squadron and headed for Kiel, the first night we were

accommodated in the German camp where the club had a block, next morning we took

over four boats and loaded all our kit on. After lunch we slipped the moorings and sailed

north through the narrows at Labou and on to the harbour at Damp for the night.Next morning after breakfast we headed to Sonderborg, having had a great sail we tied up

along side the wall on the town quay and headed into the town for a few beers and dinner,

we found a Mongolian restaurant that was as much as you can eat, the lads made them

wish they had charged more.

We slipped the quay and loitered close to the bridge while waiting for it to open, passing

through we motored up the narrow channel and out the top end and into the Little Belt

and put up the sails and sailed north to Aarhus, having had a great sail we all went into

town for dinner and a few beers, there is a pattern forming with our sailing trips, we found

it a waist of time eating on the boats in the evening, so just breakfast and snacks for lunch

then ate out in the evenings, this saved waisting food.

We set a challenge for the lads to navigate our way into Roskilde fjord, a very tricky passage

to the Viking Ship museum where we tied up and spent the next day at the museum,

fascinating, the lads enjoyed the day and learnt much.

Leaving Roskilde next morning we navigated our way back out and headed round to

Copenhagen where we would spend a few days, taking in the culture and sights as well as

a few beers. The Tivoli Gardens had a few bands on which we all enjoyed. We went to the

Citadel and saw the Little Mermaid, she is still on the small side.

We left Copenhagen and sailed south round passed Gedser and across through Fehmensund

and into Heiliegenhafen for the night before an early start to cross the ranges of Northern

Germany before they started firing for the day in order for us to go into Labou to fill with

fuel before returning the boats. The lads all said they had a great time.

On the way to Esbjerg for the ferry back to Harwich we had time to visit Lego Land at

Billund, some of the blokes wanted to get their kids some lego. We had just over an hour

and a half before the over night ferry. The ferry arrived at nine next morning and by the

time we got off and drove back to Hitchin it was lunch time, the lads washed the vehicle

down and handed them back to the MT.

We had also gained our Nordic and Telemark ski instructors qualifications and then led a

few ski expeditions to Sweden and Norway. We even organised a guided tour to Newton

Toppen on Svalbard, this being the highest peak on the archipelago which was brilliant,

it involved snowmobiles and than heavy touring skis to reach the summit and sleeping

in tents. We even had to have a stag on for polar bear watch over night, it reminded us of

Marine training. It was a lot more cost effective than going to the North Pole and just as

challenging.

In 1995 Johan and I were promoted to Sergeant for the second time in our lives, Marlin

and Vinka were already instructors and Johan and I were put on the training team. Johan

and I went on the CQMS (Company Quarter Master Sergeant Course) then the RQMS

(Regimental Quarter Master Sergeant Course) just for something to do, this qualified usto be promoted to Colour Sergeant when the time was right.

The girls had kept there translating jobs since we were married and although doing a

little less were still given assignments to do, they were very excited to receive this one

assignment, they had been given ‘Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone’ into Swedish

and German a couple of months after the English version hit the book shops in June 1997,

they worked day and night and had it couriered back to Sweden within the week, they

received a very large bonus for this. In fact over the following years the girls got to translate

all seven of the books.

In 1997 the TA SAS unit moved onto Chicksands just up the road near Henlow, this used

to be an American listening station during the cold war but since that had come to an end

in 1989, the Americans had moved out a few years later. The Intelligence Corps moved

in when Templer Barracks the Ashford Intelligence Corp Depot closed, along with a few

other small lodger units.

One of the units was 15(UK) Psychological Operations Group, a newly formed unit that

was recruiting. Our CO already had a chat with Johan and I and as we were just about to

hit 42 we would have to leave as we were at the upper age for special forces. He suggested

we popped down to this new unit to find out what they did and would they like to recruit

us. They were delighted, however we wouldn’t be able to remain badged SAS.

One of the regular officers on the Group was Johan’s old Platoon commander now a Major,

he suggested that we could be re-badged Royal Anglian, as it turns out one of my old

platoon commanders was now Regimental Secretary of the Royal Anglian Regiment so

I contacted him and explained the situation and ask if we could re-badge back to the

Regiment and be part of this new unit, he was delighted and set the paperwork in motion,

he also managed to get us promoted to Colour Sergeant at the same time.

Marlin and Vinka also came across to the new unit but remained Int Corps as they could

stay in until 55, we could now stay until 55 also. So that was it we all transferred across to

15(UK) Psyops Gp. Did the course and went to work on the Group. The girls were already

Staff Sergeants prior to joining the Group. We had to get Number two dress and get it

tailored as we would need it to give briefings to high level officers plus for Remembrance

Parades, other than our Blues and Mess kit these were the only uniform we wore our

SAS Wings, on our combats we just wore our Marine Dagger and normal Para wings, less

questions.

There was already a small team out in Bosnia running a radio station called Radio Oxygen

from the Metal Factory in Banja Luka for the Bosnian population. The Group was new and

getting a load of new equipment so we all helped bring that to book and get to grips using

it. There was a load of printing kit and equipment plus two print wagons, being Bedford

four ton trucks, two full radio stations on the back of Bedford trucks, loads of camera kit

and all manner of other stuff, also a few landrovers as well.At this time the Group only had eight regular staff and including the four of us ten TA.

There was so much work that needed to be done that we were employed full time on man

training days. Mums to the rescue to look after the kids. Ingrid and my mum were god

sent looking after the kids while we were working at the Group, not that they needed much

looking after, they were all looking at going to university in September.

The Group had taken over what use to be the American PX on camp, at the back were the

loading docks where one of the radio trucks was backed on too and one of the print trucks

on the other, the third door was on the flat so stuff could be wheeled out on a pallet truck.

In the loading dock area was a large cage where stuff could be locked away.

Moving through into the corridor there was a large room on the left for the print section

with a store room inside that and the slightly small room next to it was the radio and TV

room, at the end of the corridor if you turned left was a set of double doors that lead into

a corridor with four classrooms, if you turned right there was the admin office on the left

next was the CO’s office next to that was the 2IC, Adjutant and Ops Officer and the last

office was the QM’s, general and tech.

Going out into the auditorium was two lecture halls one on the left and one on the right,

from our corridor we had a door that we could access when we were running courses. That

in a nut shell was our original real estate, over time we expanded a lot.

We all settled onto the Group and were becoming very familiar with the kit and processes

and what Psyops was all about. The CO asked us to come up with a recruiting campaign to

find the right types for the Group. We had a brainstorming session with the head shed and

what they thought was the right skill sets needed on the Group, after that we came up with

an advertising plan to attract the right types.

One of the advantages of working on the Group we could not only use but be full members

of the Warrant Officer’s and Sergeants Mess, great for lunch and for functions, while on

the Squadron we didn’t use it we were encouraged to keep our selves to our selves. It was a

large mess with many permanent staff from the different training sections across camp and

also a large transient population who were attending courses.

This meant we had to dust off our old mess kit and take it to the tailors shop to have

Crowns sewn on, fortunately neither Johan or I had put any weight on so they fitted well.

Vinka and Marlin already had their mess kit as they used them when on Int courses, their

mess kit differed from ours, we had a red jacket with black lapels and cuffs, a black waist

coat and high waist black trousers with a one inch red stripe running down the outside of

each leg, a dress shirt, black bow tie and George boots.

The girls mess kit was a green jacket with sandy coloured lapels and cuffs, with a black

fronted silk blouse and a long black dress with a red and sand sash around their waist, theydid look stunning in them. Our first major function was the Summer Ball, what a fabulous

evening we had, we booked a transit room for the night to stay on camp so we could all

have a drink. There was a photographer taking photos as we arrived so we had three taken,

first Marlin and Johan, then Vinka and I and finally one of all four of us. Even though I say

it myself we did look stunning together.

Because it was a Tri-Service Mess each service laid on a function throughout the year. The

RAF had Battle of Britain night then the Navy had a Pickle Night which was great fun

being defaulters and having to drink tots of rum as punishment, the Army did a Waterloo

dinner night. There were also the odd Dining Out dinners we could attend along with the

Summer Ball and Christmas Draw plus the odd Officers to Sergeants and once a year we

invited the Corporals mess in for a games night.

Meanwhile Kosovo was becoming a problem and the Group was looking at getting involved.

The CO already knew that we were all prepared to deploy if the need arose. After the

invasion the Group deployed a small team with one of the radio trucks and a transmitter

and had set up in Pristina in October 1999 that was up and running with several local

radio presenters. It was identified that there was a need for a PSE (Psychological Support

Element) for the Headquarters.

Pickle Night in the mess was an amazing evening, we had so much fun, the mess was laid

out as a gun deck, each table (reed gun) had people with different roles, there was the gun

captain at the head of the gun, there was the powder monkeys who’s job it was to fetch

drinks for the gun, the cook was in charge of dishing up the scran, then the black spot

who’s job it was to snitch on any defaulter.

Throughout the evening various people were tasked with reading out the despatches and

audience participation was encouraged. After the loyal toasts then the fun started with

the Captains Table where all those that had been charged with misdemeanour’s where

summoned to stand before the Captain and punishment was dished out, mainly in the

name of a tot of Pussers Gunpowder Rum. Funny thing all four of us ended up as defaulters,

someone had stitched us up. Later Vinka owned up to being Black Spot and felt guilty so

dobbed herself in for snitching on the rest of us. I think it was a great night as far as I can

remember!

So the week after Pickle Night 1999 all four of us plus one other reported to Chilwell near

Nottingham to be mobilised to go to Kosovo. As it turned out none of us actually deployed

until the middle of January 2000, so at least we did go to Sweden for Christmas and back

home for New Year.

The mobilisation process was a bit of a pain for us but everyone had to go through it. There

were around a hundred reserves that first morning who were split down into groups of

twenty five, the five of us stayed together, it was like a sausage factory, one group would

go to the QMs (Quartermaster) to be issued a ton of kit, while another would go to theMedical Centre for a medical and booster injections, another would go to the Clerks Office

for the initial paperwork, another would draw bedding and move into accommodation.

By the end of the day those that passed the medical stayed, those that didn’t we didn’t see

again.

Over the next couple of weeks we all went through the Mats (Military Annual Training

Tests) to bring everyone up to the same standard, there were some great people and some

not up to the required standard, needless to say the five of us had no issues at all, it was a

bit of an eye opener just how other TA units are. I think certainly the four of us found the

process challenging with some of those on the course not meeting the required standard,

they had treated the TA as a drinking club for years, bit of a shock for them.

As with all courses there was the end of course wash up and debrief, sometimes it is hard

on whether to be honest or just keep quiet, but they did ask, not sure they were happy

with our assessment... One of our main points was there was so much time waisted doing

nothing when that time could have been used to better effect. The course is designed to set

a standard for everyone so they could integrate into a regular unit.

We reported back to the group with all this new kit on the Monday morning ready to

deploy out to Kosovo, we were told we wouldn’t move until the new year, so we spent our

time reading into the situation and sending RFIs (requests for information) to the radio

team on the ground and to the HQ we would be working for.

We all flew out together and arrived at 19 Brigade HQ just out side of Pristina at the old

University building and were put up in tents, the single biggest issue was that none of the

heaters worked as it was so cold that the diesel waxed in the tubes from the can to the

heater, it was after all -29C, anyway we survived, our Arctic training came in very useful.

The next day we set to work setting up the PSE (Psychological Support Element). We had

already had a few months reading into the situation and what our roles were. Marlin and

Vinka would work on Intel and the campaign planning with the boss, while Johan and I

would liaise with the Battle Groups and gather information.

Our team boss was Major Bruce a fellow Royal Anglian who we served with in our days in

the Battalion, of course he was only a young officer and Johan was his Platoon Sergeant. He

had joined the Group as a Regular and was a team leader, the 2ic was Flt Lt Hamilton RAF,

she was another regular officer on the Group, she was in charge of the office. We then had

a Lance Corporal Simpson who was a reserve and a graphic designer and did the designing

and printing, he mobilised with us.

Lance Corporal Simpson had been a regular Royal Engineer and was a map maker by

trade, he got head hunted by a graphic design company, as he was at his nine year point,

he took the job for twice his army pay. He saw one of our adverts in a trade magazine and

applied to join the group as he missed army life, as a graphic designer he was snapped up.Initially he had to drop a rank but the CO was trying to get his full Corporal reinstated,

this actually happened while we were at Chilwell mobilising but someone had forgotten to

tell him, until his first pay slip arrived with his substantive rank on it. It took a couple of

days to get his stripes issued. From a pay point of view it didn’t matter as at that time the

army made up your pay to that you were earning when in civiv street, in fact he was on

more than us.

We had two interpreters both female, one Serbian the other Albanian both very good and

got along well. We already had a campaign plan in place before we arrived in Kosovo and

had started work already, the girls being Int Corps had access to all the secret intelligence

and this made our planning and product development easier. Our main task was to provide

safe routes for the Serb population to move around and give them protection from the

ethnic Albanian population.

One day Johan and I were called in to assist the Media Ops team at a mass grave site just

out side Pristina and to help with the worlds press and facilitate access to the site once the

forensics had done their work, also to witness what had happened, the site of this will live

with me forever but the smell was something else.

Johan and I worked with the Swedish army quite a bit as they were responsible for the

large Serb enclave of Gracanice, we would also liaise with the Bishop and monks in the

Monastery to help pass our messages to the local Serb population. They also were very

keen to write articles for the Serb Telegraph the newspaper we produced.

Occasionally we would take the girls to Swe Bat the Swedish HQ for lunch or down to

Camp Bonsteel where the Americans were to shop at the PX and have lunch while being

hosted by 4 Pog the American Psyops team. We also worked with all the other Psyops

teams across Kosovo. There were the Germans, Norwegians, Fins, Italian, Spanish, French,

Irish and Russians. Johan and I had a brilliant time in Kosovo visiting all the different

Battle Groups, mainly just to have lunch and a catch up with their teams and check on their

campaigns and give advise where necessary.

We visited the Russians on a few occasions as when they had arrived in Kosovo they

immediately took over Pristina Airport and demanded that they run it, we only had lunch

there once, it was worse than disgusting, basically it was warm pasta cooked in milk, oil

and buche (some sort of cabbage), lesson learnt.

There was some trouble up in Mitrovice in the north near the Serbian border where the

French area of responsibility was, the Serbs were firing 50 Cal rounds across the border

and into the town affecting the bridge which was the main crossing point into the centre,

we had gone up there to see if there was anything we could do to help, the worlds press was

there also, well Kate Adie anyway. I felt sorry for the French they clearly didn’t have their

best chefs with them.The couple of days we spent there we worked with a young French Officer, JB who was

their PIO (Public Information Office) effectively Psyops but the French don’t like the term

Psyops or Psychological Warfare, he was very enthusiastic and fun, he looked after us, he

also visited the PSE in Pristina a few times to collect stuff and get a good meal.

Nineteen Brigade has some of the best chefs in Kosovo, the word got round and at lunch

time we had dozens of extra people turning up for meals, it started getting out of hand and

in the end HQ staff including us were issued a meal pass, no pass no meal, the food was

outstanding I must say.

We had an invite from the Irish Army to go and have Sunday lunch with them on St

Patrick’s day, so we took our whole team, we all enjoyed the day and had so much fun,

hard sometimes to think we were in a conflict zone. The Irish were in charge of a small

Catholic enclave in the hills south east of Pristina, which was by and large very quiet. We

were invited to a day of celebrations for one of their Patron Saints, another grand day out.

This day along with the Irish army and a few other dignitaries were invited to be hosted

by the local village elders as guests of honour including our whole team, the Irish laid on a

piper and a marvellous lunch with much slivervichs (plumb spirit) terrible stuff, but what

a memorable day, the girls really enjoyed getting out and about with us.

A few weeks later the guys from NorBat the Norwegian Telemark Battalion invited the

team for a day out at Batllava lake where they had a large rib, water skis and a big rubber

ring, so we took a picnic and swimming gear, then spent the day sun bathing, swimming

and messing about with the rubber ring and water skiing which was a first for any of us,

how different could it be from real skiing!

Johan and I had a call to go up to Podujevo where the Scots Dragoon Guards were

operating, they had some trouble with the local council and needed a loud speaker system,

the council took it upon them selves to fly the Albania flag from the government building,

a very large crowd had assembled out side, the commander on the ground had orders to

remove said flag, he had set up a base line in front of the building, Johan and I with the

loud speaker system were in front with a local official who informed the crowd to clear off,

the flag was being removed, it was a scary few moments I can tell you, but they did clear

off, phew, order restored.

There was this massive exercise called ‘Dynamic Response 2K’ where the USMC (US Marine

Corp) landed and deployed across Kosovo, they had some big vehicles to get through the

streets. In the build up to this exercise our team went into full swing publishing this across

the whole of Kosovo to let people know it was going to happen and not to panic, it was

thought they might think there was an invasion taking place. It worked as panic didn’t

ensue and all went off without any major incidents.This was a coordinated effort with all the Psyop teams across the country including the

radio station pushing out the same message that this was just an exercise and that people

should not worry and stay safe and out of the way of vehicles moving around. It was

interesting working with a couple of USMC guys in the initial stages of the build up to the

exercise and the way they operate.

We had an Australian Captain Psychologist Officer on Longlook (the exchange programme

with New Zealand and Australian forces) join us for a month during our tour, I think to get

the medal but the girls found his input valuable for a project they were working on.

The girls along with Flt Lt Hamilton were working with War Child an NGO (Non

Government Organisation) project to provide a few play areas for the children in some of

the areas that had been affected during the fighting. I think they enjoyed this as it was out

of the norm and the first time they had seen how NGOs work.

While Johan and I had to visit the Spanish Cavalry unit up in Istog in the north west of

Kosovo to advise on a project they were doing, it also coinsided with a battle honour day

for them, they treated us to a massive paella cooked in huge pots sunk in the ground and

covered with palm leaves, we had never tasted anything like it, it was wonderful.

Their area was a very quiet place and they had good relations with the general population

and local leaders. They said that the stuff on DR2K and the work they did with the local

leaders was a great help with their relationship which forged greater cooperation with

them. For Johan and I our Spanish came flooding back.

Our last visit of note was to the Italian’s over in Pec in the west, they had commandeered

this wonderful hotel over looking the mountains towards Albania, now they had brought

their best chefs and laid on the best spread in the whole of Kosovo. Our hosts briefed us

on their operations, mainly there were just patrolling the border and checking who was

coming into the country or going out. They also said that DR2K had helped with the local

leaders and locals, they were sending back some good intelligence.

There had been a new camp of corrimec portacabin buildings built between us at the old

university complex and NATO HQ up at Film City that the incoming Brigade would move

into when we left. We had noticed during our time in Kosovo a massive change, when we

first arrived there wasn’t much traffic, by the time we left there was traffic jams and car

washes along with dozens of stalls selling dodgy CD’s everywhere.

Our time in Kosovo was coming to an end with 7 Armoured Brigade The Desert Rats

coming out to replace 19 Brigade, on many of our planning sessions with the rest of the

team one thing became apparent we were still treated as outsiders from the rest of the

Headquarters staff, mainly because we had arrived from nowhere and weren’t part of the

gang from the start.We identified this as a potential issue for future deployments and teams trying to fit in to

an already formed unit. We finally had the RIP (relief in place) in early June, we had a good

handover takeover with the incoming team, the radio station were working independently

from us. We returned via the Group before going to Chilwell to demobilise, this only

happened because Major Bruce arranged it or we would have just been taken directly there

from Brize Norton. A week later after we debrief the head shed we then were taken to

Chilwell and demobbed and sent on leave.

We had five weeks leave before we could return to the Group. We also booked onto a track

day just before going off on the tour with the MVs and Manx Norton’s, we hired a van with

a tow hook for our bike trailer, three bikes on the trailer and one in the back with all the

leathers, helmets, spares and tools. We had serviced and put new tyres on all four bikes

ready for a great day out.

We arrived at Brands Hatch for this open pit lane track day. After we had the safety briefing,

found a garage and off loaded the bikes and all the gear. Being an open pit lane meant we

could go out on the track anytime during the two hour session and come back in as and

when we wanted.

All the bikes passed the scrutineers and sound checks then we all changed into our leathers

and were ready to go out on track. Marlin and Vinka took out the two 350s first and Johan

and I on the 500s, we would swap half way through the morning session then do the same

in the afternoon so we all got a go on all four bikes. We all agreed that we would do twenty

laps and come in and change bikes, so we all got two goes on each bike.

When you exit the pit lane you are straight onto Paddock hill, you have to watch for other

bikes coming down the start finish straight, accelerating up Hailwood hill then position

yourself to enter the hairpin at Druids then down into Graham Hill bend watching for the

apex into the Cooper straight and wind it up aiming for Surtees through McLaren laying

it into Clearways accelerating through Clark curve and changing up into top gear and the

Brabham straight and across the start finish line then brake hard for Paddock hill again..

Coming round on the twentith lap and half way through Clearways peel off into the pit

lane and stop outside your garage and back the bike in, helmet off and kettle on. Quick

chat and swap bikes and back out for another twenty laps, which generally take around

eighteen minutes on a good day to cover the just a fraction under two kilometers or one

point two miles.

The conversation on the way home was fascinating comparing just how different the bikes

were to ride, all brilliant but no clear winner we loved them all so much and couldn’t wait

until the next time we could do it.

The next day we left on the planned motorbike tour for the next three weeks, we had

already spent a couple of days getting the bikes ready before Brands, of course it was hardto decide which bikes to take, Vinka took her trusty Thunderbird, Marlin her Bonneville,

Johan on his BSA Gold Flash and I opted for my Norton Commando. We had a wonderful

time riding around the West Country into Wales and across into Yorkshire and home

again, we covered nearly two thousand miles in two and a half weeks.

When we returned to the Group after our leave we were back on the TA side but again

we could work everyday on man training days. We had a very long conversation with the

Group head shed and came to the conclusion for a way forward. Because the Group was

new and off the back of the success of our first deployment to Kosovo, the CO called the

four of us in sat us down with a cup of tea and asked us if we would like to go full-time.

This was something fairly new, Full Time Reserve Contracts, effectively the same as a

regular but on a fix term contract. That was it we were given a year FTRS Full Commitment

contract as Colour Sergeants and Staff Sergeants starting on the first of October 2000.

We all reported to Chilwell on the 1st of October, fortunately for us we were still in date

from our deployment to Kosovo or we would have to go through the whole two week

package again. All the paperwork completed that morning, we were then told to report to

our unit the following day. That was it we were now full time on full time pay.

Before going to Chilwell we attended the Battle of Britain night in the mess. The RAF did

themselves proud and had the mess dressed up in 40s style, as you came into the front

entrance it was like going into an air raid shelter, they had on loan from the Shuttleworth

collection some artefacts to show off. As you walked into the bar and ballroom beyond

they had it looking like an old village hall with bunting and war time posters all around,

there was a Glen Miller band on the stage playing war time music.

There were large round tables set around the dance floor, we were shown to our table along

with six other members from the Group, there was waiter service so there was no need to

keep getting up to go to the bar. At eight o’clock we were called into the dining room where

we had a buffet meal, after that we danced the night away, the girls loved it.

Arriving back from Chilwell we got to work coming up with a plan to integrate deploying

out teams with the Command Headquarters they would be working with for the next

deployment.

The concept was easy, identify the team six months out and start their pre-deployment

training and attend all the Headquarters exercises with the HQ they were going to be

attached to. The training was a build up over the six months of bringing their individual

skills up to standard, that is all the normal soldier skills, fitness, weapon handling, medical

training etc etc. Of course they did the basics at Chilwell but we built upon it.

This first team were going to deploy to Kosovo next spring, so we got to it. This worked

very well and the team was part of that HQ and fitted in just fine. This took all the hardwork out from the start and the team were involved with all the planning and preperations.

This proved so successful that the next teams were formed and started their training as the

first team deployed.

The girls were running the Int Cell, providing training, briefings and keeping in touch with

the deployed team on the ground. They also kept an eye on the rest of the world for any

future possible conflicts. Once a week they would give a CO’s brief of the weeks activity in

theatre before CO’s PT on a Friday morning.

Johan and I were in charge of the training cell and ensuring that the teams and the rest of

the Group were all kept up to date with all the MATS (Military Annual Training Tests).

This consisted of the BFT (basic fitness test a mile and a half run as a squad in fifteen

minutes then a mile and a half best effort in under ten and a half minutes), the Bleep test

including press ups, sit ups, then personal weapon handling test before going onto the

ranges, then there was the CFT (Combat fitness test) 8 miles carrying either 15kg for other

Arms or 25kg for combat Arms. Next was the CBRN (Chemical, Biological, Radiation and

Nuclear) and the gas chamber followed by basic first aid and map reading.

We also were in charge of delivering and developing the Military Psychological Operations

Course This course attracted lots of international students, it was a two week course to

introduce students to the discipline.

We also developed a special Higher Command briefing for senior commanders to inform

then of the capability of Psychological Warfare and what the Group can do for them,

this was generally very well received. We also developed with the specialist (Print, Radio

and TV) guys, courses to bring their skills up to speed and to ensure all members of the

deploying team could at a push step into each others roles.

With the girls we came up with the TAA (Target Audience Analyst) course mainly for the

Int types. Then there was the TPT (Tactical Psyops Training) course that was to brief Battle

Groups so they understood what we do and what they can do for us, the sort of information

that was important to us about target audiences, also to deliver products to locals.

This involved us going round all the units that were going to deploy and giving them a

briefing. We also did flying visits out to the operational theatres to get first hand and up to-

date information to pass onto the courses and deploying teams, this would involve either

all four of us or just Vinka and I or Johan and Marlin or any combination of any of us or

other group members, all depended on the time and need.

All in all we were very busy but at least we all had most weekends together as a family when

the kids were at home from university. We also ran weekend training for the Reserves

and their two week camp to have them qualify for their Bounty. We organised a two week

camp on Guernsey for the whole Group involving a road move and ferry crossing, we were

accommodated at the Royal Engineers TA Centre on the Island, along with daily PT whichinvolved running down to the near by beach and playing games. We also set them a project

to support ongoing operations in Kosovo.

This was a great success with some valuable lessons learnt and some new ways of working

for the group, it also got the Regulars to appreciate the Reserves a lot more and what they

had to bring to the Group.

We also supported the Staff College course at Schrivenham to provide Psyops support on

one of their table top exercises to give students an appreciation of the capability available

to them. Something else we did was to brief senior officers on our capability. For this we

would take a full PSE (Psychological Support Element) and set up so they could see the

capability and what it could produce.

In July 2001 the four of us deployed to Faslane to support the JMC (Joint Maritime Course)

in Scotland, which is a massive exercise involving hundreds of ships, aeroplanes and troops.

The first week we were operating out of the Maritime Ops room and the second we

were going to work off HMS Illustrious. That Friday afternoon, why is it always a Friday

afternoon, Macedonia kicked off and the four of us were extracted over the weekend and

returned to Chicksands. Monday morning we jumped onto a train to London with the CO,

Ops Officer and one of the team bosses.

We arrived at MOD Main building on Whitehall just before ten am and were met by a

staff officer who took us to a briefing room, there we were given a classified briefing on the

situation and told to come up with a plan to support the operation.

Back at Chicksands the following day we pulled together a large team and briefed them on

the plan. Basically it was simple, we were there as part of a NATO mission to disarm the

NLA (National Liberation Army of Albania).

This was a multinational Headquarters headed up by a Danish General and supported

by a dozen other nations, a right mix and we were to be the PSE (Psychological Support

Element). We took out almost every one who was available from the Group and loads of

kit and equipment, as NATO were paying for it and it was only a ninety day operation it

seemed like a good idea at the time.

Anyway a week later the wagons were loaded and driven down to Marchwood and loaded

onto a ship bound for Greece, a few days later most of the team left, headed up by the CO,

Ops Officer and a Team Boss, there was the four of us and four other Group members, it

was a bit of over kill, eleven of us, but there was a good reason for it.

Once we arrive in Skopje we were accommodated in an old shoe factory and went through

the process of getting ready for the kit to arrive over the next few days. Johan and I headed

up the vehicle party with six other Group members who were bused down to pick up thevehicles from Thessaloniki in Greece.

This took all of three days by the time the ship had arrived and was unloaded, our vehicles

found, checked over, fuelled ready for the convoy to make its way back to Skopje. They put

us up in a massive warehouse in the docks full of bunk beds for the two nights, it was very

warm and sticky with many people milling around all night because they couldn’t sleep.

While we were fetching the vehicles and kit the rest of the Team got on with planning the

campaign and briefing everyone who was involved, by all accounts it was hard work with

many of the foreigners not having a good grasp of English, Vinka and Marlin were in their

element, translating in different languages, it took a lot longer than it should have done.

When we arrived back in Skopje that is when the work started setting up our operating

area. As I said before it was total overkill and we had far too much kit but we set it all up

anyway, this was a good chance to show off our capability and what we could provide. We

did guided tours of all our kit and equipment, impressing all who saw it, we answered

many questions and did lots of demonstrations.

We had arrived about three weeks before the main 16 Air Assault Brigade arrived, a few of

us met them at the airport. This was made up of 2 and 3 Para, they were housed in the Old

Fruit Factory, it didn’t take long before DNV set in, it almost took out both Battalions and

made them almost in operative, this didn’t go down well with the Headquarters.

Anyway our campaign was mostly about letting the local population know what we were

doing there and to that end we used the news papers and local radio to get the message out.

We had Corporal Simpson with us and he came up with a brilliant series of drawings for

the newspapers, while we also had some radio ads and for the first time we used RDS on

the radio. Basically it was just a scrolling message that said ‘NATO the Mission Continues’

and that was the strap line for the operation sent to all car radios that had a compatible

radio.

I had been told to grab my camera kit and jump into a vehicle to go up to a village in the

hills where the Para’s were going to collect a load of weapons, I said I needed to grab my

day sack, there was no time besides I would be back that afternoon, I was up there for three

days with no kit other than a camera, fortunately the Para’s did give me some food, luckily

no DNV to go with it. I arrived back not impressed but with some great images, some

that went out on the wire where I got the by line in several international newspapers who

covered the story.

By the end of the operation we had collected well over the amount of weapons of all types

that we had set out too, the operation was deemed a success. There was a press day for all

international journalists to view the weapons before they went off to be destroyed.

On one particular day I had driven some of the guys to the American camp called ‘AbleSentry’ so they could shop at the PX, I was listening to the radio when they stopped the

music and announced that a plain had hit one of the Twin Towers in New York. I rushed

and got the guys and as we got back to our Ops room, we saw the second plain fly into the

second tower, this was 9/11.

Five months later we found ourselves in Kabul, Afghanistan. As we were nearing the end of

our year contracts, not only the CO and Brigade Commander but also the CGS (Chief of

the General Staff) were very impressed with the work we had done over the last couple of

years. We were offered promotion to WO2 and a four year Full FTRS contract for all four

of us. A no brainer.

So just after we had returned from Macedonia, we received our Royal Warrants promoting

us to Warrant Officer Class 2, we signed the new contract as WO2’s on the 1st October

2001 then started work getting ready to deploy to Afghanistan in early 2002.

Because we were unsure when we would deploy we stayed in England for Christmas but

invited all the Swedish relatives over instead, they arrived the week before. With our kids

it made for two very full houses. Because the camp had been so busy leading up to the

deployment to Afghanistan the Mess Christmas Ball was on the 22 December just prior

for most people going on leave.

We had all the family come to the Ball including our parents. What an awesome night, I

don’t think anyone will forget in a hurry, it was one of the main topics of conversation all

over Christmas along with our impending deployment. Because we had so many people

for Christmas we booked into a hotel for a couple of days and had a wonderful dinner

there. New Years Eve we partied in the mess to see in 2002, another brilliant night. They all

left us on the 2nd to return home having had a totally different Christmas and New Year.

We had all our kit and equipment packed and ready to deploy at a moments notice as

soon as space was made for it on an aircraft. The single biggest issue with deploying to

Afghanistan was that every single item had to be flown in by air and the more troops on

the ground the more stores and supplies were required and the more flights needed.

The second week of January we got the OK to go. Johan and I along with Major Bruce were

the first to deploy as we were the most experienced along with some of the kit. After a few

delays we flew in to Kabul in the dead of night on a C17, the loader told us to don our body

armour and helmets, the aircraft was going to make a tactical landing.

All the lights went out and the pilot was throwing the aircraft about for twenty minutes

before landing and coming to an emergency stop in about a couple of hundred yards. The

rear loading ramp opened, it was pitch black outside, once we came to a complete stop and

the engines died down all we saw was a guarded dim light showing us into a dimly lit tent.

In there a Corporal from the movers gave us a briefing about all the nasty things that can

eat, bite and kill you then added ‘oh don’t step off the hard standing as we haven’t clearedall the mines yet’.

We then mustered all our kit and equipment that we had brought with us then loaded it

onto the back of a couple of Italian trucks, we were then driven through dark empty streets

with only the odd Mujahideen check point with oil drum fires burning to where we were

going to stay.

We were put up in a tent with no heating or light and told to get our heads down until

morning. I thought to myself what have I got myself into this time, Johan said in a silent

whisper exactly what I was thinking, we did laugh. Major Bruse what the joke was, we

enlightened him into our thoughts, he laught as well.

We had a very cold and restless couple of hours until first light, the day dawned bright and

sunny although very cold. We found our way to the main galley and sourced a half decent

wet (cup of tea), things were looking better. After breakfast we were shown the area where

we were to set up our tents and equipment. The rest of the day the three of us worked hard

to clear the area and put up the tents of which we had five twelve by twelve tents, three were

working spaces and two were our accommodation, for us and the rest of the team when

they arrived.

Over the next couple of weeks the rest of the team arrived, unlike the Macedonia operation

this one we could only have a small team of six. The area that we were accommodated in

was in the grounds of the old university in the Consulate area of the city, next door was

the old military academy, on certain days they would hold bush-kazi tournaments and we

could watch over the fence.

Bush kazi is a rough sport played on horseback with opposing sides trying to get a dead

goat across the other teams goal line, well that is what it sort of looked like, anyway it was

a bit on the violent side.

Next to arrive was Vinka and Corporal Simpson, a few days later Marlin our final member

came in with the last of our equipment. With the full team now in Kabul we could start

work in earnest. We had been assigned four interpreters who as it turned out three were

already journalists or had been in the past. There was Mohammed Senior, Mohammed

Junior, Shah and Wassi all Afghans that lived local.

The first thing we did was to get the Commanders Mission, then have a meeting with him

to ask him what he wanted from us. The newly appointed Commander ISAF was none

other than one of our old Company Commanders from our days in the Battalion now

a Major General, even Major Bruce had served under him. After a brief catch up we got

down to business and how we were going to support the mission.

All six of us were in that meeting and after we went back to our tent office and had a brain

storming session. There wasn’t much in the way of social media or radio and television inKabul at that time, the only way to reach out was print.

We then involved the interpreters and asked them for ideas on how to reach the population.

Corporal Simpson came up with the idea of a tri language newspaper in three languages,

English, Pashto and Dari. We then came up with its layout and what content we would

put into it. The front page would be local and a bit of international news relevant to the

population, the back page would be sports and the middle would be features and interviews

and all round good news on what ISAF were doing.

Johan and I would go out with one or two of the interpreters to get content and images. The

first few weeks every where we went the entire city was relatively quite, as time went on this

changed and the city came alive once the weather began to warm up. Within a week we had

enough to put the paper to bed, this became a massive challenge.

The English wasn’t an issue other than it didn’t translate well into either Pashto or Dari,

both Arabic script, that was the next issue, we didn’t have a computer or the right software

to type Arabic script or the right fonts. We found a way around this issue by reformatting

an old windows laptop and putting Arabic windows onto it and getting a Pashto font set.

The interpreters would type out the translations then print it off so Corporal Simpson

could then paste up the whole thing before scanning and then printing it out. All this could

have been avoided if some bright spark had listened to Corporal Simpson and purchased

the Middle East version of Adobe Creative Suite in the first place. Coincidently we had

the same issue in Kosovo until we got the CE (Central European) version for the Cyrillic

script.

Finally this happened after a month when some new kit was sent out with a copy which

turned around the process over night. There was another issue we had in that the English

didn’t translate well in either language, so while we were having a brain storming session

we came up with the idea that we briefed the interpreters on what we wanted to get across

they write the script then translate that to English and problem sorted. Or so we thought,

the first time we did it and sent the copy up the chain for approval it almost Immediately

returned red penned.

When you read the translation it doesn’t make grammatical sense but the gist is there.

Corporal Simpson and I went to see the legal and political officers then the Commander

and explained the process, the General got it immediately and said it was fine and to get

on with it. From then on we didn’t have a problem, the only things that needed to go to the

Commander was anything that was to influencing the target audience. Anything just news

related or information related just went in.

At the end of February we were assigned two new members to our team, a Belgium Warrant

Officer from their Intelligence Corps and a French Captain from the French PIO (Public

Information Office) a bit like the Group but the French don’t like the word Psyops. TheFrench Officer was none other than JB the very same officer who looked after us in Kosovo

only now he was a Captain, small world.

Because everything and his brother had to be flown in there were server restrictions on

everything, however this didn’t seem to effect the French when it came to booze, JB arrived

one evening long after the interpreters had gone home for the day, as we were chilling out

around our pot fire he produced a fine bottle of Napoleon Brandy, we all had a generous

sip, this was not the last bottle either.

The interpreters were a funny lot, we would be working away and someone would say

‘Where’s Wassi’ and a reply would come back ‘He’s preying’, what about twenty times a day,

in fact he was round the back smoking. As time went on the city became bus-sling, again

with lots of taxi’s and minibuses all over the place, the markets were returning and we were

seeing women on the streets occasionally without burqas.

The British support base was at camp Souter off the Jelalabad road heading east out of

the city. A little further along was the American training camp for the Afghan National

Army. On the opposite side of the road was Warehouse Camp were the Germans and other

nations support elements were.

The French and most other nations also had support elements at the main airport where

we had flown into that first night. If we had to go up to Bagram airbase some 30 miles

north of Kabul we had to be escorted their by the Italians, who were responsible for the

security of the Headquarters.

Johan and I only went there on a couple of occasions to pick some stuff up. On the road

north we went over a pass where a tank battle had taken place with dead Russian tanks

everywhere, there were also unexploded tank mines on the side of the road that had been

washed down from the rain. This is where 3 Commando Brigade were based, it was a real

dust bowl, funny thing we were stood in a line to get lunch and we only bumped into a

guy we were in training with at Lympstone all those years ago, he was now a Royal Marine

officer.

We had a great catch up over lunch, from what he was saying we had made the right choice

jumping ship when we did, as it turns out the guys were never at home very long and

always on exercise or in Northern Ireland or down the Falklands. A year later he joined the

group as a regular officer for a couple of years, he was a really nice bloke and we had a lot

of time for him, unfortunately he was killed a few years later in Iraq on a Op Telic.

Johan and I pulled off a few good blinders with who we got to interview for the ISAF News.

I think our biggest was the President, Hamad Kazi, we also got the Finance minister later

to take over from Kazi, Ashaf Garni and the minister for the Harge the annual pilgrimage

to Mecca. We also covered the big Loya Jurger that had very many leaders from across

Afghanistan converge on Kabul to discuss the countries future.The newspaper was doing very well and now being printed down town by a local printer.

It started with a ten thousand print run and ended with the last one we produced before

handing over to the Turks in June at two hundred and fifty thousand copies.

Occasionally in the early days the girls put together a questionnaire for the locals to fill

out and return to us, we got hundreds of these back and the girls would input all the

answers and come up with a fascinating insight into the locals. Of course we shared this

information with the other Psyops teams in country at the time.

Ariana Airlines had started flying once more and we put together their first in flight magazine

and safety booklet which was received warmly, we also presented Radio Television Kabul

with some professional hand held video cameras and audio recording equipment which

also went into the news paper as a good story.

Occasionally all six of us with the interpreters would go out on a patrol in the local area, or

down to the bazaar to talk with locals, we found life fascinating in Kabul, if we needed to

go further afield we would get the Ops company to take us or get a patrol from the Vikings,

the 1st Battalion Royal Anglian Regiment to collect us and go out with them. With our

knowledge of Arabic we found we could talk to Pashto speakers as the language is similar,

Dari or Fasi not so, quite different.

Marlin and Vinka really enjoyed going out with us as they could talk to females on the

street, they didn’t have any trouble talking to women that didn’t wear burqas but those that

did were a challenge to get to open up, they over came this by just stopping them in the

street, most had a chaperone that Johan and I spoke to at the same time. Through this we

gained even more of an understanding of the culture.

The girls were able to get a much better understanding of the culture by speaking to women

on the street, this made a lot of difference to planning out the campaign going forward

being able to target women and girls in our messages, we passed on all this information in

our handover notes.

We had made locally several distribution boxes for the newspaper that were placed around

the city in promenant places, these proved very popular and a great source of information

for collecting the returned questionnaires, we also used to join patrols from the Vikings

the 1st Battalion Royal Anglian’s who were the Ops Battalion in Kabul at the time.

Early May saw the first of the lead headquarters staff from the Turkish Army arrive in

Kabul, soon after their lead Psyops staff, then by the end of May early June all of the Psyops

staff were in and we started to hand over to them. This was a fascinating time for us and we

spent a lot of our time showing them how every thing worked and how we put the paper

together and took them around an introduced them to all the key players in Kabul.The Germans were a strange lot, they had invited all the Psyops operators including the

Turks for a BBQ on our last Sunday there before we handed over and flew home on the

20th June. It was a good job there was plenty of salad, or the Turks would have gone

hungry, they don’t eat a lot of pork. Anyway the Turks took it in good faith and a good time

was had by all.

There was a big handover ceremony on the morning of the 20th of June and we flew out

that afternoon having said our goodbyes to the Interpreters. Somebody had the bright idea

to leave most of our old kit for the Turks, but we did bring back our vehicles loaded up with

a few Afghan carpets.

Over our last couple of months there was a lot of building work done in camp, new

accommodation and offices, by the time it was ready to move into we were already packed

and waiting to go home, turns out this was all for the Turks. By all accounts NATO had

bribed the Turks to take the lead in Afghanistan, I did wonder why they had so much new

kit and equipment, I now know why.

I think the whole team were sorry to leave, certainly the four of us had a great time in Kabul,

the girls enjoyed coming out on patrol with Johan and I into the bazaars and markets,

talking to the local women something we couldn’t do as men. All in all a great operational

tour and another Commanders Commendation plus another medal.

The day we flew back to the UK we missed stopping off in Bahrain and only stopped in

Cyprus to refuel then direct back to Brize Norton. The Group sent a minibus to pick us up

and take us back to Chicksands. We stopped in camp overnight and went into work the

next morning and had a chat with the CO, it was decided that we would debrief and sort

all the kit and what equipment we brought back before going off on summer leave for four

weeks as we hadn’t had any leave since Christmas.

The vehicles arrived back at Brize Norton the day after us, Johan and I went to collect

them and drive them back to Chicksands, we also collected all out weapon systems that

we had to leave in the armoury at Brize, it felt odd driving on the left side of the road with

everything everywhere so green.

Our plan was to have a few days at home seeing the family and kids while getting the

bikes ready for another great adventure and ride all the way to Sweden and see the rest of

the family. So a week into leave we set off for Harwich to catch the overnight Hoek van

Holland ferry.

After a big breakfast onboard we rode off the ferry and headed for Sweden. We had planned

a few stop overs on the way and booked hotels, the first was Munster for the night before

going onto Celle where we stayed for a day and night just to show the girls around.

Next we headed to Berlin to see how it had changed since we left there all those years ago.Our old camp was still there as was our quarters, the trees were a lot taller, the wall at the

bottom of the road was still there although there was only the training area over there

anyway.

East Berlin had undergone the biggest transformation though, as we left Berlin for Lubeck

via the Freedom Bridge passing the old Russian camp there were still relics from the cold

war visible. The funny thing we noticed as we headed north west through what use to be

the old East Germany nothing much had changed and little investment was evident, the

towns also appeared to be quiet as well, we did notice a difference once back in what was

West Germany.

All the bikes were behaving beautifully and never missed a beat. At one particular stop we

had noticed just how green everything looked compared to Kabul. We arrived in Lubeck

to catch the ferry to Oslo and boarded with a hour to spare. We found our cabins and got

showered and changed ready for dinner, it was a wonderful evening. We arrived in Oslo

the next day and rode round to our hotel, we planned on two days in Oslo.

There were a few places that we all wanted to visit while in Oslo, there was the ski jump,

Kings Palace and the Resistance Museum, its amazing just how the Norwegians suffered

under the German occupation during the war and how they fought back. Unlike British

museums they didn’t censor anything, pretty graphic to say the least.

We left on the third morning and headed south down the E6 for Sweden, by late afternoon

we pulled up outside Olaf and Greta’s house and a very happy couple of weeks just enjoying

being back in Sweden with friends and family.

All too soon it was time to head back to England, we had booked the ferry from Gothenburg

back to Harwich. We had two wonderful nights relaxing onboard before arriving back at

Harwich and the short ride back to Hitchin and home. We still had a few days left of leave

before returning to work, so we caught up on all the maintenance jobs around the house.

We started back at work just in time to book in for the Battle of Britain dinner night as we

had missed the summer ball while we were away on leave. It was a grand affair and we had

a marvellous time. They did a brilliant job decorating the mess out in 40s style again, you

can count on the Crabs to lay on a good do.

It didn’t take us long to get back into the swing of things on the Group, there were a few

new faces about and a few old ones gone. There were still teams going out to Kosovo and

Bosnia but only in small numbers. Off the back of Afghanistan we had learnt so much and

as a result we gave a full debrief to the CGS and other top brass along with General John.

The Group was granted more resources in manpower and equipment. This started the

procurement process, most frustrating for all involved.Included in this we had an accommodation block built which cost one and a half million

and had twenty-four on-suite rooms, a new office block and workshop at the top of camp

in building 256, we also had a state of art radio recording studio built and a video editing

suite next door to it, with an up lift for the print section as well.

Anyway it went something like this, we couldn’t tell them what we needed to do the job

with, we had to give them a concept and they would come up with what they thought we

needed to do the job. The end result is that we ended up with a load of stuff over engineered

and very expensive, when if they asked the end user they could have got the stuff off the

shelf at a fraction of the price.

So we had a couple of demonstration days where they came and showed us what they came

up with, most of the stuff would never get used and sit on the shelf until it was replaced

with equally useless stuff. The basic idea was to have a fly away capability with everything

in flight cases, some of the stuff was good but lots not needed, did they listen...

One piece of useless kit was the Windows Tough Books, the first issue was the encryption

they put on them, it took a massive password just to start them, once waiting an age for it

to start, then when you went to open something like Photoshop and it crashed, it only had

enough RAM to run the operating system, totally useless for us, even doubling the RAM

still didn’t help.

They gave us two AM transmitters, have you ever seen the footprint of an AM transmitter,

the mast takes up an area of two hundred and fifty metres by two hundred and fifty metres

by two hundred and fifty metres by two hundred and fifty metres, the transmitter it self

requires an expert operator to connect it up and switch it on, pretty useless for our needs,

they never got deployed.

Many other things they delivered never got used and just gathered dust on the shelf, and

stuff wee did need to do the job with just got ignored, some what frustrating.

For the four of us once we returned back to work with our experience from Afghanistan

we set too adjusting the course content and bring them up to date to deliver on the next

upcoming course.

The CO had a request from NATO Headquarters for us to deliver on the NATO Psyops

Course down in Bavaria at the NATO school at Oberammergau, well this was a first for

the British to present on a NATO Psyops course. This request came off the back of the TFH

Operation (Task Force Harvest Macedonia). We put a great package together for them and

set off a few weeks later to deliver it. We only had three presentations to deliver.

Accompanied by the CO, we flew from Luton to Munich where we were picked up by a

couple of NATO staff cars and driven to the NATO school at Oberammergau. On arrival

we were shown to our accommodation, very plush I must say, very nice for two weeks.In the middle of the first week we were all taken, that is the entire course on a coach into

Munich for the day to visit a large printers and a radio station. That evening we all went to

the famous Hofbrauhus, where a grand evening was had by all.

The following day we gave the first of our presentations to the audience, which consisted

of some very high ranking officers from across most if not all of the NATO countries, our

presentation was very well received and produced some very interesting questions at the

end, which took up the rest of the morning and only stopped because of lunch.

The next presentation was moved to the afternoon which put the course back a bit. Our next

presentation was the following afternoon and we had the same thing, so many questions

from the audience that we run right up until the dinner bell at seven in the evening, by all

accounts this had never happened on any course before where such a discussion following

a presentation.

The conversations continued all through dinner that evening and well into the night, that

was the first week over, we had the weekend off, so the four of us went down to Garmish for

some skiing. We found a ski shop that had Telemark equipment for hire. We had a brilliant

couple of days skiing and of course saw a few of the other course members skiing as well.

Back at the school on the Monday we gave our final presentation and were inundated with

questions at the end, fortunately this was just before lunch. Off the back of our presentations

we had several invitations to present on other courses across our NATO partners. Many

conversations were had during the rest of the week and from what we could gather this had

been the best course ever run there.

Back at Chicksands life continued at a pace, with a team being on pre-deployment training,

a team on leave and courses and a team deployed, then there was the support staff of which

we were now part, being the training team and Int cell.

The Royal Navy had long been running an annual ski training and competition in France

for many years, to give sailors and marines the opportunity to get some adventurous

training done. There had been an invite sent to the Army Telemark Association to take

part in the competition this year.

The four of us were all good Telemark skiers and all had our own equipment as we all use

to ski every year at Christmas and again at Easter, so we cleared it with the CO and booked

on with a few other Army skiers.

We had booked a flight from Heathrow to Geneva and a transfer to the resort, we stopped

the night in transit accommodation at RAF Uxbridge where we met up with the rest of the

Army team. We flew early next morning. When I say early we arrived well in time for the

flight only for it to be cancelled.We were transferred onto another flight that was also cancelled after being delay by a couple

of hours, we finally flew out the following day not to Geneva but to Chambray and had to

find our own way to the resort, bit of a challenge. When we eventually arrived at the resort

we were shown to our accommodation which was a large lodge type building with a dozen

or so rooms, we had elected to go self catering as there was only ten of us it would be easy.

That first night we had a wonderful meal cooked by my lovely wife Vinka assisted by Marlin

with Johan and I as waiters and pot-wash. Next morning we all reported to the organisers

where we were issued with our lift passes and the instructors for the week. We had a few

days instruction and training before the racing started at the end of the week.

In all there were about thirty Telemark skiers taking part, mostly Royal Marines a couple

of Navy types and the ten of us. We had a couple of great instructors and a fun week was

had by all. The day of the races came and we were as ready as we could be. It was decided

that because there were only thirty of us Telemark skiers we would go first, the course had

been set for alpine which made some of the turns a bit of a challenge but most of us got

down OK.

This first race was the Giant slalom about thirty five gates, the four of us all got into the top

ten with the rest of the Army team doing well. Because there were no other females in the

competition the girls elected to competing against the men, they ended up doing very well

and just outside the podium. We had a fantastic week with the overall score going to the

Army but they wouldn’t let it known too much and said we couldn’t have the title because

we didn’t belong to the RN Ski Association, sore losers.

The following year the Army took up the challenge and organised the British Telemark

Championships to be held in Rauris, Austria. We were definitely up for the challenge and

booked on and as it was classed as a sports competition the Crown would pay all expenses.

After the chaos of trying to fly the last time we took the choice to drive, easier with all our

kit, at least we would guarantee it all would arrive together and not be lost in transit.

Back on the Group we got back into the swing of things and the pre-deployment training

was going well. Things in the middle east were not going that well with trouble brewing in

Iraq and Saddam Hussain misbehaving. Our attention was turned to this and away from

Afghanistan which in hindsight was a mistake.

Sat in the mess one lunchtime we were talking about the Six Nations and the up coming

Calcutta Cup that weekend when one of the lads from the Gym asked if we wanted tickets

to go to Twickenham to not only watch the game but to go onto the pitch and carry a flag

before kick-off, we ripped his arm off.

He told us to meet at the Scrummery at nine o’clock and ask for Karen and she will square

us away with a big breakfast, then meet the rest of the guys at E Gate where someone from

the events company would meet us and just follow their instructions for the day.With our uniforms packed into our day sacks we got on an early train from Hitchin and

arrived at Twickenham and having had a great breakfast in the Scrummery, then at ten

we met with twenty eight other mix of soldier’s, sailor’s and RAF types and were met by

a couple of guys from the events company who escorted us into the ground to their store

room where they kept all the different nations flags. They told us we had twenty minutes to

get changed then we would go out to do some rehearsals.

Once all changed we carried two large bags containing the flags out to the practice pitches

and split into two teams of sixteen, we jumped onto the England flag, this for Johan and I

was a massive honour, Vinka and Marlin felt our pride and were as excited. After a couple

of practices on the back pitches we moved back into the stadium and onto the main pitch

for the one and only practice before doing it in front of eighty two thousand fans.

We had a couple of hours before kick off and were given a meal voucher to use at any of

the food vendors around the stadium. We had fish and chips then went and had a coffee,

followed by a walk around where we took some photo’s, we managed to see both teams

arrive and took a few pictures of them. After popping into the fans zone we went back to

the store room to meet up ready to get to the flags, these had already been placed in the

corners ready for us to carry out onto the pitch.

With about twenty-five minutes to go we were led to our respective corners, like coiled

springs we stood waiting to do our choreographed reveal of the National Flags, the

excitement was building, the players were out on the pitch warming up, with ten minutes

to go we marched onto the pitch carrying the flags.

Just as the teams left the pitch we went into action, in unison both flags were laid out and

we then knelt around each flag waiting for the teams to return to the pitch for the national

anthems, with excitement growing we stood to attention and then The Flower of Scotland

was sung first, then we grew an extra six inches as we sang God Save The Queen at the top

of our voices, three seconds after the last beat we picked up the flags and run off.

Back at the store room we laid out the flags and packed them away neatly into their bags

ready for the next time they would be used, we were then given our tickets to watched the

game. What a game with England winning it just made our day. Filled with pride we stayed

in uniform and court the train home, having had the most exhilarating day ever. Later in

the year we were asked again for England V New Zealand, what an honour.

Back at Chicksands we were put on a war footing and starting to get the Group ready to

support a war in Iraq. The girls were very busy ramping up the Int cell and gathering as

much information as they could along with training up some new arrivals into the Int

section.

Johan and I were busy booking ranges and getting everyone through their annual personalweapons tests and all the other weapon systems ready if they were to deploy, we also ran

a couple of combat medic courses with all the latest techniques and upscale their first aid

kits just in case they had to deploy into the combat zone.

The CO and the planners were very busy planning and briefing for different scenarios,

the print and radio cells were busy preparing their kit and equipment ready to deploy at a

moments notice. The entire Group was a hive of activity.

At the same time we had an expedition organised to take several members away for a

weeks sailing in the Solent using the Joint services Victoria 34 yachts with the four of us as

skippers, we had a long conversation with the head shed and it was decided that because

it was only five days and local it would go ahead. If the balloon went up we could be

back within several hours, besides we could keep in contact with the situation constantly

anyway, beside all of that, people needed a break as we had all been burning the candle at

both ends since returning from the ski championships.

All four of us Marlin, Johan, Vinka and I were all Yachtmaster Offshore and Cruising

Instructors where we had gained all of our qualifications when we were with C Squadron,

while we were already very experienced sailors we didn’t have a certificate between us, so

after our return from the first Gulf war we had the time to go through the RYA training

scheme with Joint Service Adventurous Sail Training Centre down at Gosport to gain these

qualifications..

We had also run a few expeditions with the Squadron over the years, and we still had the

opportunity to sail most summers when we had the chance to go to Sweden. We also took

boats out from the British Kiel Yacht Club and had taken expeditions of Troopers from the

other Squadron’s over the years as well.

So we left early on the Monday morning having first checked the current situation with the

Ops officer and the twenty of us jumped into two minibuses and headed to Gosport for a

weeks sailing. We arrived at Gosport at eight and reported to the guardroom and shown

to the boats and spent the next hour taking them over and getting peoples personal kit

onboard then being issued the sailing kit, oilies etc.

Just before lunch us four skippers had to give a brief to the chief instructor on our plan for

the week and what we had to do in an emergency, we also told him our extraction plan if

the balloon went up and we were recalled. We then attended the safety brief with the rest

of the crews. We had lunch in Hornet sailing club before slipping for the afternoon, then

sailed across to Cowes where we had pre-booked into Cowes Yacht haven. It wasn’t a race

but it certainly felt like it with the girls, anyway we arrived safely and tied up alongside.

We checked in with the Ops room before reporting to Joint Services our safe arrival. So far

so good nothing happening just some political posturing. So we all went off to the Anchor

for dinner and a few beers.Next morning we checked with the Ops room before breakfast, great nothing happening

so continue with the plan. After breakfast and all things stowed away we briefed all the

crews for the days sailing. We slipped just after ten and headed into the western Solent,

the plan was to practice our man-over board drills under power and sail then anchor in

Newtown Creek for lunch. The afternoon we would sail up Southampton Water to Ocean

Village for the night.

Having had a great sail that afternoon with all crews getting the chance to helm and work

the winches we went alongside in Ocean Village about five o’clock, fortunately they gave us

four adjacent berths. After checking with the Ops room, nothing doing we reported our

safe arrival to Joint Services then prepared to go out for the evening and have a meal and

a few beers at Weatherspoons.

Having organised lots of these type expeditions in the past we came to the conclusion a

long time ago the easiest way was just to do breakfast and snacks onboard and to eat out in

the evenings, saves time, waisted food and money in the long run.

Wednesday morning was another fine day for sailing, so while the crews were having

breakfast we call the Ops room, didn’t look like anything would happen this week, so our

plan for the day was to sail to Yarmouth for the night and have dinner in the Blue Crab,

which in our opinion did the best fish and chips anywhere on the south coast.

We had a great sail and this time we actually sailed into the Beaulieu river and anchored

under sail. Marlin and Vinka went first and anchored then Johan and I sailed onto them,

brilliant challenge and very well executed. After a leisurely lunch we sailed off anchor and

back out of the river and across to Yarmouth where they double rafted us together which

was fine, Marlin and Vinka on the inside and Johan and I on the outside.

After checking with the Ops room we reported into Joint Services. We put the boats to bed

then had a stroll round passed the ferry and down passed the Royal Solent yacht club and

into the Blue Crab for our fish supper, it was every bit as good as we had promised. After

that we had a couple of beers in the Bugle before retiring for the night.

Next day during breakfast the usual call to the Ops room to be told nothing doing, brilliant.

Our last full days sailing was going to be a bimble back through the Western Solent into

the Eastern Solent and go alongside Gun Wharf Quays for the night before returning the

boats Friday morning.

We had the best sail of the week, on the way back again anchoring under sail in Osborne

Bay for lunch and a swim, then sailed off anchor and only put the engines on just before

turning into Portsmouth harbour via the inner swash-way. After gaining permission from

the Queens Harbour Master we crossed from Ballast Pile and went alongside Gun Wharf

Quays for the night.Before having a run ashore we made all boats ready to hand back in the morning with

only the minimum needed to be done in order to get an early start on the traffic back

to Chicksands. We had a lovely meal in Gun Wharf before having a relative early night.

We were up and across the harbour and alongside Joint Services by seven o’clock with all

personal kit on the vehicles and the oilies and other kit ready to hand in, we had all four

boats cleaned and handed back by nine and on the road by ten past.

Because we were well ahead of schedule and were going to drop some of the guys in

Aldershot, we stopped at Loomies for breakfast on the A32 A272 junction, this is an old

bikers cafe we use, everyone enjoyed it. We dropped some of the guys off in Aldershot and

returned to Chicksands just before lunch, afterwards we cleaned the vehicles and handed

them back to the MT had a chat with the CO and Ops room and had the weekend off.

Things were not getting better with the Iraq situation and President Bush and PM Blair

itching to get into a conflict with Saddam Hussain, things were starting to happen with

troops and ships all heading to the Gulf. The Group had been planning for months and

already had a couple of teams ready to deploy at very short notice, fortunately for the four

of us we would be held in reserve if the conflict became reality and an enduring operation.

We were extremely busy briefing and training people in readiness to go to war if it came

to that. We would go down to Lydd & Hythe training area to give briefings to the OPTAG

(Operational Training Advisory Group) on their mass briefing training days to deploying

troops. This was to provide an overview of our role in Theatre and what they may see and

the sort of information that would be useful to us and how to report it.

We were also delivering extra training for our own Group members who were to go out in

the first wave, to bring their own personal skills up to speed. Because there was a serious

threat of chemical attack they had additional training in the gas chamber to ensure their

drills were fully up to date and how to use the latest detection kit and combi pens.

Also at this time we were getting live information from a small team already on the ground

giving the Int cell all the latest developments, so they could brief the rest of the Group.

The Groups battle rhythm at this time was arrive at work 0730hrs after breakfast, check

the schedule for that day if anything had changed over night. Then get on with any

preparations for the rest of the morning until ten o’clock. At ten everyone who was in

camp from the Group would grab a cup of tea in the lecture theatre and then received the

latest intelligence brief on the situation on the ground. This usually only took twenty or

thirty minutes, then it was back to work.

As things got worse we were called forward to send two teams to Oman within the next

twenty-four hours. That was it these guys might be going to war. Three days later they

arrived in Muscat, Oman at the forward mounting base.The next few weeks were a little chaotic for the lads on the ground, they weren’t being

put to good use at all and were being messed around a lot, mainly because someone had

messed up and not inform the sponsoring units they had arrived in theatre.

Shortly after they finally got sorted, things kicked off when the Iraqis started firing missiles,

apparently there was some panic and lots of people were donning their NBC suits, I seem

to remember this happening once before. The war had started and the team managed to

get some good work done with the help of the Americans, they produced millions of safe

conduct passes that were dropped onto the Iraq positions.

Once the war got going and the Alliance troops poured into Iraq and started taking

prisoners many were found to have our leaflets on them when they surrendered. It was

satisfying to know that when some of the prisoners were questioned they said that the

leaflets convinced them to surrender and that they believed they would be safe. Psyops in

action, saving lives.

The actual war only lasted 26 days, the ongoing peace operation lasted years after. The

Group had the 2 teams relocate to Basra Airport Headquarters to set up a PSE (Psyops

Support Element) while we back at Chicksands we readied a team to replace them with the

next Divisional Headquarters were due to take over.

The RIP (Relief in Place) took place in July 2003 and replaced what was left of the first 2

teams and set to work. On return the first teams had a thorough debrief before going on

leave and we stood up the next team to deploy out in November which included the four

of us, also the follow on team. For several months we had been brushing up on our Arabic

just in case.

The week before we deployed we had the opportunity to do the flags at the Autumn

Internationals and the England V New Zealand game, this time we travelled in uniform

and had a big breakfast at the Scrummery, Karen does a fantastic scran. The day followed

the same as before, it was a great privilege to do this and the buzz you get from standing in

front of eighty two thousand fans singing the National Anthem is something very special.

The previous few months were very busy getting us ready to deploy to Iraq on Telic 3

and working with the command headquarters of Multinational Headquarters South

East (MNDSE). By the time we deployed out in November we were embedded with the

Headquarters and hit the ground running having had a good handover takeover from the

previous team on Telic 2.

The Int cell were working closely with the team in Theatre to get as much information

as possible on the different police districts and key players across the AOR (Area of

responsibility) and work out some sort of plan. Our main task was to come up with a

campaign to enhance the perception of the Iraqi Police Service in the eyes of the localpopulation, a very tall order.

This involved working with the Brits in Basra, Alamara and surrounding area, the Italians

at Nasarah and the Dutch up at Samawah. This was a great project for our team not only

did it mean us going to visit the Dutch and advising them on getting the ground ready for

the Japanese to arrive, this would be the first time that the Japanese had operated outside

Japan since the second world war. They were deploying to do some reconstruction work in

the local area on hospitals and schools.

Because it took a long day to drive to Samawah we stopped over night with the Italians half

way which was so much fun, they were great hosts that wined and dined us well. We also

helped with some projects they were working on. We also stopped the night on the way

back to Basra, a three day round trip, essential work.

Every couple of weeks we had to drive down to Kuwait to visit a printer in the city, this

also involved staying overnight at the American Base. We always travelled in two GMC

Envoys, four and a half litre V8s, right gas guzzlers, to do this we needed a driver and a

commander, just so happens it always worked out that Johan, Marlin, Vinka and I went

about everywhere together, we had such a great tour.

On a couple of occasions just Johan and I had to go over to Alamarah which involved

flying from the Airport in a helicopter spend a day or two there before flying back. On one

occasion we visited Al Kabir where the six Military Police were murdered, this town had a

horrible feeling about the place.

The four of us and the team boss had to fly to Baghdad for a country wide Psyops Conference

in the Green Zone. We flew into Camp Victory on a Herc and were met by our hosts from

4 POG, one of the guys we had worked with in Kosovo met us, one of the other guys was

from Kabul, it was great to catch up. They showed us our accommodation and their office.

We got in three pickup trucks, as we approached the main gate, two Humvees and a pickup

pushed their way in front of us, we left a few hundred metres behind them, half way to

the Green Zone there was an explosion in front and one of the Humvees had been blown

up with at least two dead and a couple more injured, by the time we arrived a Blackhawk

helicopter landed and the team waved us on. There was a bit of a wait outside the Green

Zone which was a very nervous time as we were very exposed, finally inside we could relax

and go to the meeting. If I’m honest it was a bit of a waist of time. The return to Camp

Victory was uneventful, fortunately.

That evening we sat around on top of the hooch (the building we were staying in, single story

flat topped) with a pot fire and a few near beers (alcohol free beer) which was disgusting,

when all of a sudden a burst of about 30 to 40 rounds from I guess 50 Cal machine gun

flew over our heads and killed a sentry on the tower by the main gate, we decided to retire

below for the night.The following morning we were due to return to Basra by Hercules after breakfast, we

woke to the whole place orange, minutes after we took off they closed the airport as there

was a sand storm coming, apparently it lasted a few days.

Our six months was almost up as we prepared to handover to the next team, we were all

looking forward to leaving never to return, none of us had any desire to go back to Iraq

again, we had no love for the country however we did improve our Arabic quite a bit.

We arrived back at Chicksands the last week of April 2004, after a week of debriefs and

sorting out our kit and equipment ready for us to go on leave. We took all of May off and

planned to visit Sweden for a week and booked a couple of track days when we returned,

one at Silverstone and one at Brands Hatch.

We had acquired a couple of new bikes to us, a Suzuki RG500 two stroke ex-race bike with

a few spares, this was a real handful to ride and also a Ducati 749R with some spares. We

had also purchased a Mercedes Sprinter high top long wheel base crew cab van that could

fit three bikes and the tools in the back and with the trailer we could take 6 bikes to the

track days.

Our first track day was an open pit lane day with a two hour morning and afternoon

session and an hour in the evening. With the van and trailer loaded we set off early next

morning and stopped at Jacks Hill transport cafe on the A5 for breakfast before going to

Silverstone circuit. After the bikes had been unloaded and checked we went to the briefing

and then out for the first session.

Vinka and Marlin took the MV500 and the Manx 500 while Johan took the RG500 and

I had the Duc. I followed the girls out of the pits and kept behind them for a few laps to

warm up the tyres then we went for a few fast laps, the girls were very confident and quick,

I then opened up the Duc and it just was a dream to ride and had no trouble leaving the

girls behind.

We had all agreed to come in after about twenty laps, the girls came in after me but Johan

was already in the pits, I thought it odd and asked what the problem was, he said the RG

was a beast that wanted to kill him, I laughed and asked him what he meant, he said that

every time he opened the throttle it wanted to throw him off. I said lets swap and I’ll take

the RG and you take the Duc.

Now let me tell you about the RG500, it being a two stroke it was rubbish under six

thousand revs, then it hits the power band and wants to rip you face off, the technique is

to get it into the power band and stay there, it will try and pop a wheelie all the time but

you just ride through it and its great, handles like a dream, but does take a bit of mastering.

After the second session we swapped back and Johan went and had another go on the RG,he got it and grew to like it. We swapped one more time before lunch and all met back in the

garage and then went to the cafe for some food. We had a good chat about the new bikes and

gave the girls some tips on how to get the best out of them.

We started straight after lunch, Vinka jumped onto the RG and Marlin on the Duc, Johan

followed Marlin out on the MV and I on the Manx. Vinka must have taken in what I told

her about the RG and she was off, I struggled at keeping up with her.

After the first couple of warm up laps Marlin came past Vinka and I and that was the last

we saw of her until she almost lapped us going into the pits after the first 20 laps, Johan

followed us in having been lapped by her. Johan said that the MV didn’t seem to want to go,

we swapped round. After the first couple of laps he was right the MV was playing up so I

swapped it for the MV350.

The afternoon session seemed to flash by and over tea we all agreed that the Duc was the

best and the RG was without doubt the most difficult to ride, the Manx and MVs were still a

lot of fun. We finished the day off with one last lap before loading up and heading for home.

We all agreed that if we could find another Duc and RG that would be so much fun. Next

day looking through Auto trader we just happened to find another Ducati this one was an

10 9 8 S and a couple of old RG500s, one for spares all at the right money, so the next day

having paid for and collected these three bikes we got them back to the workshop and gave

them the once over.

The Ducati 1098S was effectively a road bike, the RGs needed a bit of work and fettling to

sort them out to make one good one, eventually we would do a complete rebuild but for

now just get one ready for next week. The plan was the following week go to Brands Hatch

with the two Ducati’s and the two working RGs for an open pit lane track day. We were all so

excited and had to draw lots for the first one to ride the 1098, Vinka won and Marlin second,

so they would start the day on the Ducati’s and Johan and I on the RGs.

It was amazing just how fast the Ducati’s were compared to the old RG500s, they both lapped

us on the first session, we had such a hard job getting the girls to give up the Ducati’s and

when we finally did we understood why, the 749R was brilliant but the 1098S was absolutely

amazing. The discussion in the van on the way home was all about getting a couple more

Ducati’s.

With leave over and back at work we got into the next cycle of pre-deployment training,

courses and Operations, we had taken back control of the training cell and Int cell

respectively. Our first task was to update the M Poc and Operator courses and bring the rest

of the Group up to date with current operations.

The Sergeants mess were in the middle of building a large decking area out in the garden at

the back of the mess and needed help with digging footings for the new deck, so all four ofus helped out in some of our spare time, by the time it was finished it looked brilliant. We

were also co-opted onto the committee for the Christmas Draw and Ball.

We were allocated fifteen thousands pounds to put on the Christmas Ball and ten thousand

pounds was for prizes, we decided to have lots of good quality smaller prizes plus a couple of

big ones. We booked a great local band and disco.

For the four of us there were a few opportunities to visit some of the other NATO Psyops

units around the world. First off we went to Fort Bragg to visit 4 POG, talk about all the gear,

it was an amazing place and they wanted for nothing.

The Americans operate different to us in that the seldom have the ability to multi task, if you

are a planner that is all you do, if you are an designer that is all you do, if you work in radio

etc. This is in its self isn’t a bad thing but you have to deploy out such a large team to do a job,

it can sometimes be hard to get anything done.

Where as us on the other hand can multi task and work as a very small team and do

everything from planning to tactical delivery on the ground to product design and target

audience analysis, more efficient and less cost. One thing we did take away was the concept

of radio in a box, essentially a portable commercial radio station in a box.

We then crossed back across the pond and to Sweden although not a NATO member they

send their people on missions. Karlstad which is about 160 miles north east from Gothenburg

where they have their Psyops unit is based, this brought back memories for Vinka and Marlin

as they had spent some of their military service here, having had a few of their operators

come through the M Poc we knew a few of the guys, we had a brilliant visit and learnt much.

Vinka and Marlin showed us about and took us down to the local town and a restaurant they

use to go to when they were posted here. Back in the camp we were put up in their Sergeants

mess, not too different to our mess only a lot smaller.

Next we visited the German Psyops unit in Karlsruhe, again having had a few on not only

the M Poc but also the NATO course also a couple of the guys from Kabul were there too,

they were great hosts and laid on a few demonstrations for us. One demos we particularly

enjoyed was a balloon drop, they had leaflets packed into special containers and sent them

up by these balloons and at a given height release the leaflets then they would fall in a pattern

to cover a given area. I asked our guide what the guys were doing that afternoon, he replied

dryly ‘litter picking’ we fell about, Germans do have a sense of humour after all.

We next headed over the Alps to Italy and the Adriatic coast not far from Ancona and met

up with some of the guys we had worked with in Iraq, they were such great hosts and true

to their word they looked after us as if we were Royalty, they were such fun. They were still

building their unit and were recruiting, they had resources and funding, we were sure they

had the right plan, of course they used our course notes to train their people, we left themsome of our latest course notes.

Our final stop was at Lille in Northern France where we met up with JB now a Major in the

French PIO, their unit was small compared to the Group with only about twenty staff. We

had a good couple of days with him and his team and exchanged lots of information, mostly

in one direction, it was very beneficial for them going forward. JB looked after us and took us

out to dinner to a Michelin star restaurant, a very nice treat.

Back at Chicksands we spent a week writing our report and recommendations and put a

presentation together to the rest of the group. It was decided to invest in a couple of RIABs

(Radio in a box), we already had a couple of 4KW transmitters and radio trucks and a studio

so these would make a good addition to the Radio Section. These arrived soon after so we

came up with a training programme for them.

The four of us were having the time of our lives, delivering courses, training teams to deploy

to Iraq plus we also had a small team in Sierra Leone which Johan and I visited to get a handle

on the situation and sort out a training package for the next three man team to deploy there.

We stayed just long enough to get the medal, thirty one days in all.

Life in the Sergeants Mess was also so much fun with a Battle of Britain Dinner night run by

the RAF mess members but the Pickle Night run by the Matlows was something else, not that

any of us can remember much after the Defaulter fines of many tots of rum.

Johan and I were also playing rugby for not only Hitchin twos but we also were asked to play

for Chicksands on the odd Wednesday afternoon. That year we were also asked to play for the

Royal Anglian Vets team at Thurrock rugby club the day before the Regimental Gathering,

that was a great weekend. Thurrock rugby club is a great club with a good club house and laid

on a smashing feast for everyone, even better seeing that we won.

That Remembrance weekend was special as this was the first one we had actually been at

Chicksands for, there was a lovely parade and service where anyone not on duty was to attend,

some of the unit had been invited to attend local villages to lay wreaths then come back to the

mess for a curry lunch. Number two dress was the order of the day and everybody looked so

smart.

Christmas was fast approaching and there were lots of activities going around the various

units on camp, there was a pantomime laid on for the kids with a party after in the Sergeants

Mess. There was the Sergeants to Officers Mess games night where we were invited to their

mess for drinks, that was messy, then we had three glorious weeks Christmas leave.

Because we had all been deployed the previous Christmas we were excused duties this year so

organised a trip to Sweden and the lodge with the whole family, our kids were going to join

us as well. They had all finish university and had good jobs and had kids of their own, it was

going to be crowded but fun.Johan and Marlin’s children, Otto had married Sara and had a boy James and lived in

London, Otto worked for a multi national bank and earned a small fortune. Olivia married

Simon and had a daughter Susan and lived in Northampton, Simon played rugby for the

Saints, we often got tickets to go watch him play. He organised for us to meet the team and

join in a training session with them, that was so much fun and enlightening, I don’t think

Johan and I could play at this level, even in our hay day.

Our children had done well and Nils married Joanna had a boy called Henry, Nils got a

job at the Hallberg factory as a shipwright thanks to Ronnie who was a Master Shipwright

there after all these years. Our Vera married Frode a Norwegian from Oslo where he was

a transport manager for one of the big haulage companies, they had a daughter Hanna, we

loved seeing her with her Norwegian accent, she was so funny.

Johan and I managed to hire a minibus and were going to take the UK contingent with us,

all twelve of us on the ferry. Leaving on the 17th December driving to the ferry for Sweden

was a lot of fun, the drive to the mountains was amazing. In the lodge was like the old days,

Olaf and Greta were getting on a bit and were waited on hand and foot and didn’t have to lift

a finger. Stefan still run the lodge with Sven helping, fortunately had an extension built on

so was able to accommodate the lot of us.

Ingrid, Anna, Torva and Silvi were now in charge of the cooking and didn’t they lay on the

most wonderful Birthday for the four of us, it was almost like old times when we were kids.

We skied and had saunas, rolled in the snow eat and drank, laughed, cried, played games

and had the most wonderful time ever.

Although we didn’t know at the time this would be the last time for Greta and Olaf as the

both passed away just before Easter peacefully in their sleep. Fortunately the entire family

were able to return to Sweden for the Funeral. It was a very moving and wonderful send off

for two of the kindest people on earth, they will be greatly missed.

Life back at Chicksands was relentless with a constant flow of pre-deployment training,

exercises, courses, briefings, visits and range days. New people joining the Group that

required training, plus we also had our own lives to get on with.

Our contracts were due to end at the end of September and our attention was looking to our

future, at this time things were hotting up in Afghanistan, we had taken our eye off the ball

slightly, fortunately Vinka and Marlin’s team hadn’t and brought this to the attention of the

CO, we were summoned to his office and together with the girls we were asked to pop down

to PJHQ then to MOD Main Building to find out all we could on the current situation on

the ground.

A few days later we had a very good idea on the current situation on the ground in Kandahar

and Helmand, it appeared the Taliban were flexing their mussels in the area and attackingNATO troops operating there, mainly American with a few British SAS, as this was the main

poppy growing area in Afghanistan, it had an impact globally. We briefed the CO, Ops team

and team leaders on what we knew at that time.

A couple of days later the CO called all four of us into his office and offered us a new five year

contract if we would stay on and run the training and Int cell as we had so much experience,

Vinka piped up and asked if we could have time to talk it over together, The CO said please use

my office, call me when you have decided.

We were 48 and would be 49 at Christmas, we were all very fit and the thought of another

opportunity to return to Afghanistan would be better than Iraq, so we all agreed as long as we

didn’t have to go to Iraq then we were in. We called him back into his own office, he agreed to

our request and said he would get to paperwork sorted out, in the meantime find out as much

as possible and come up with a training package. We went to our office and had a brainstorming

session on a way forward and came up with plan.

We needed to have a chat with troops that had just come back, we made a couple of calls to

Hereford and arranged a visit to chat with some of the blokes that had been out their to get

a clear picture of the ground, the area and the threat that we were likely to encounter. It was

strange returning to Hereford, we even bumped into some old friends, we spent an intense few

days with the guys and came away with a very clear picture of what to expect on the ground.

We next revisited PJHQ and MOD Main Building again, then the FCO, fortunately for us we

still had the highest STRAP level clearances and were able to get all the latest intelligence and

were also invited to Vauxhall cross, the home of MI6 for a briefing. Armed with all this new

information and intellegence we came up with a brief and a new training package for everyone

that would be deploying to Helmand and or Kandahar.

By late 2005 we had a team ready to deploy once operations got underway, although we weren’t

part of the team we had planed on going out initially to get a first hand appreciation of the

ground situation, so took part in all the training.

Remembrance this year was a difficult one for us remembering Greta and Olaf, we had decided

not to go to Sweden this year but it invite the Swedish family over for Christmas, another

reason was we didn’t know when we were likely to deploy to Afghanistan.

Over the last few months of 2005 Kandahar Air Base and Camp Bastion were in the process

of being built, for the British a task force of some 3300 troops were going to deploy along with

a headquarters element who were to be based in Lashkar Gar the main town in Helmand

Provincce, this is where our team were going to operate out of. For us it was a waiting game,

we finally deployed in April 2006 flying from Brize Norton via Bahrain where we changed to a

C17 then onto Camp Bastion.

Flying into Camp Bastion in day light was interesting seeing it from the air, it was in the middleof a desert, the runway was finished but the camp was still under construction with groups

of tents going up all over the place, big ones for the galleys or cookhouses, small ones for

accommodation and middle size ones for offices and stores. These tents were a new design,

the accommodation ones looked like nissen huts from the outside but sand coloured, they had

a linning and also air conditioning, the large ones were similar but a lot bigger also with air

conditioning.

Helmand was like nothing we had ever come across before, outside the town of Lashkar Gar all

the houses were built of mud and were surrounded by ten foot high thick compound walls. The

headquarters had taken over an abandoned compound and linked it to another one making it

large enough for the headquarters to operate out of.

From some of the first foot patrols we went out on the people appeared curious and wary of us

but as they saw more of us they started to come round. The issue we had was getting interpreters,

initially we had to share them with the headquarters and Ops Company for patrols, it wasn’t

long before we had a couple of dedicated interpreters for the PSE Team, one was an elder guy

and the other was a young one of eighteen, they work well together.

We had been there a few weeks when we started to push our patrols out into the rural areas and

into the fields, we were led to believe that this was the main poppy growing areas in the country

but from our observation the poppy fields were only a small part of the crop, most appeared to

be wheat, cotton, vegetables, corn and some other crops. Speeking with some of the farmers

they told us that the food they grew was to feed them throughout the year and the opium from

the poppy gave them an income to buy fuel and other necessities.

It was in these rural areas that the Taliban operated intimidating the farmers to sell their poppy

harvest to them for less that it was worth, when we encountered the Taliban they were fearless

and wanted to have full on gun battles with us.

They were either very brave or very stupid, but were very happy to stand and take us on, not

only did we have superior weapons but we were far more accurate than them, it was like a one

sided falling plate competition, fortunately for us nobody was injured but for them their losses

were high. Lucky we only encountered them on a couple of occasions while we were there.

While out on one patrol we had Vinka and Marlin with us so they could talk with any females

we came across, as we were walking through this one village the Taliban thought they would

have a go at us, a massive gun battle ensued and the girls got stuck in, they showed no fear, they

were just cool calm and collected and gave clear fire control orders on to the targets.

As we were trying to extract from the situation the Taliban would come at us from a different

direction cutting off our route out, so we had to try another way only to be cut off again, the issue

we were having was that we after a few hours in this contact were running low on ammunition

and water, the weight you are carrying does diminish as you get rid of ammunition, from the

40kg I went out on patrol with I returned with just under 20kg, it nearly came down to oneround per man and a bayonet, we also drank a lot of water ,it was very warm that day.

This battle lasted a good couple of hours as the Taliban kept coming from different directions,

finally we called in fast air to drop a couple of five hundred pound bombs, that gave us time to

extract by helicopter, that was a bit of a scary day, fortunately we didn’t lose anyone, we were

very lucky that day.

We had been there just over a month and had gained all the information we needed to put

a comprehensive plan together going forward for the Group and the deploying troops. We

spent a few days at Kandahar Air Base, this was massive with thousands of troops from many

different nations, they had the area they called ‘The Boardwalk’ they even had Burger King

and a pizza hut, a tailors shop and a Dunking Doughnuts along with a coffee shop.

Kandahar had a large multi national headquarters with a PSE run my Canadians, we spent a

bit of time with them, we looked at having one or two group members attached here, mainly

to send information back to the group on what campaignes were being run from here and any

assistance needed either way.

We then flew to Kabul where we were met but a Major from Camp Souter the support base

for the British, then had an escort to drive us around the city to HQ ISAF, it was good to see

that the ISAF News was still going strong. It was good to see that our original interpreters

were still working on the paper with half a dozen others, I cried ‘where’s Wassi’ ‘he’s preying’!

came the reply. We then went onto The British Embassy for briefings to give us a full picture

on what was going on in the rest of Afghanistan before returning to the UK.

Kabul had change a lot since we were there in 2002, the Headquarters had grown, the city was

far more busy than before and the markets prices had been inflated to exorbitant. All in all a

very productive tour and a clear way forward for the Group when we stood teams up, we put

together a comprehensive training package which also integrated with the headquarters team

they would deploy with.

Back at Chicksands we wrote our report and gave a presentation to the head shed with our

recommendations on team makeup, equipment and skill sets that would be required. Again the

pre-deployment package would require a six month lead in and embed with the Headquarters

element they would be attached to.

The teams would require to be trained on their personal weapons, both rifle and pistol, also

the Minime and GPMG as it was likely that all ranks Sergeant and below would be expected

to man sangars and the front gate if under attack by hostile forces, also be able to go out on

patrols with the Ops Company if and when required. They would all need to be combat team

medic trained, which is a lot more than just basic first aid. Combat team medic training

involved being able to give morphin, apply a toutniquet and put in a drip for fluids plus more

advanced techniques for life saving that involved gun shot wounds or later IED injuries.

Along with all these weapon skills they would also need to be able to help out planning,product design, record and edit radio products and take good images, product test and

evaluate measures of effect. Initially the plan was to use the local radio stations for putting

out our messages, not all that effective, later RIABs (radio in a box) were deployed and

used to good effect right across Helmand Province.

The Group was growing with more and more people joining all the time, the Int Cell was

now large with a team around twentyfive with at least half a dozen deployed at anyone

time, our Training Cell was now a Wing with a dozen Sergeants under us working their

socks off going out briefing deploying troops and training our Teams to go to Iraq, Sierra

Leone and now Afghanistan, the whole place was buzzing with activity all the time.

The Int Cell while their main effort was current operations in Iraq, Sierra Leone and now

Afghanistan, were also responsible for keeping a close eye on all the other trouble spots

around the world where we might be involved in at a moments notice. Vinka and Marlin

had a small team of four Int analysts working on this while the rest of the Cell worked on

the main effort.

The Group maintained the Battle Rhythm of Monday morning CO’s PT then work until

ten then the weekly brief, each department worked on their own projects keeping their

skills up to speed, while the pre deployment team worked together and did their own

training programme to fit in with their Brigade plans. Friday morning was the end of

week CO’s brief followed by PT then finish for the weekend at lunchtime if all tasks had

been completed for the week. There was the duty Ops Room that was manned 24/7, this

was a dedicated team of watch keepers, with two on at anyone time.

For the four of us we still managed the odd track day, Mess dinner nights and the occasional

trip up to Northampton to watch Simon play for the Saints, then have tea with Olivia and

Susan after the game. On rare weekends Otto and Sara would pop up from London with

James, Marlin was over the moon.

For Vinka and I we would have to wait until Christmas to see our grandchildren when we

would go to Sweden or Easter when they would come over to us. The summer holidays

we also had the chance to see them. We did miss them a lot but the plus was the internet

and face time when we could sit in front of a computer and see them, this made all the

difference for Vinka. For me the main thing was they were all well and happy with their

lives.

The four of us had a long conversations about our up coming 50th birthday and whether

we wanted to have it in Sweden, we were torn as this would be the first one without Greta

and Olaf and it just wouldn’t be the same, they have left such a big hole in our lives, in the

end we all agreed that it would be so hard, we knew in our hearts that they would want us

to carry on as normal, but no, we would have everyone come to us.

We put the word out to the rest of the family and invited them all here for Christmas andNew Year. Everyone had said yes and asked if they could come to the Mess Christmas Ball

again and if the Mess was open on New Years Eve. As the Mess would be open we checked if

we could invite the family to both, the answer was yes.

The entire family came including Ronnie, his wife and two kids, Petra and her husband and

son, all the grand parents, our kids the lot, we actually had to book half of them into a hotel.

The great grand parents offered to look after all the young children while the adults enjoyed

the Christmas Ball, all dressed up in the DJ’s and Ball gowns and us in our mess kit, we even

had a photographer take a picture of the whole family.

For our birthday we were able to book the Mess for a lunch for the whole family including all

the grandchildren, my Mum and Ron, Tim and his wife and children also came over, it was

the largest family gathering ever and we were so sorry that Greta and Olaf were not there to

see it but we did raise a toast to them.

The New Years Eve party was a fantastic success, the Mess even laid on a small firework display

at Midnight for the children who were also in attendance and on best behaviour all evening,

we were able to get a photo of our entire family including the kids. During the evening, there

was music playing but for the most part people just talked and enjoyed each others company,

At one point in the evening I had a conversation with Petra, it was so funny she had admitted

that all those years ago she had a massive crush on me and hoped I would fall in love with her

and not Vinka, I told her I knew all about her crush on me, well it was hard not to notice she

was like a limpet around me, I told her that Vinka at the time thought it was cute and kind of

me to indulge her, we laughed.

2007 came round ever so quick and we were all back in the thick of it getting teams ready to

deploy out at a minutes notice, training back in full swing and briefings left right and Chelsea,

the pace never slackened for a moment, the weekly routine would start Monday morning with

a quick parade and straight into CO’s PT after breakfast, after that straight into work until ten

when we would have CO’s brief and tasks for the week.

The rest of the week all came from that brief and the training programme, whether it was

ranges, weapon training, PT, briefings, exercises with HQ’s, project work, reach back work for

deployed troops, training teams going out to battle groups, OPTAG briefings, we also had to

fit in some Adventurous training. Come Friday mornings and CO’s brief and PT, the weekend

was most welcome.

Of course we had a duty team of watch keepers on twenty four seven in the Ops Room keeping

in touch with the deployed troops scattered across the world, as there was a team in Iraq, one

in Sierra Leone and now one in Afghanistan. 2006 and 2007 just seamed to fly by.

Vinka and Marlin did their last translation for the company in August 2007 with the final

release of the Harry Potter series ‘The Deathly Hallows’ this was a massive book with over

six hundred pages to translate, although they received a massive cheque this was it, they hadenjoyed their thirty three years working for the company but with work on the Group it was

getting too much.

Before we knew it we were into 2008 and finally we had to start the roll out of the radio in a

box which had seemed an age to procure. Because it was our prime objective to get these out

to the Battle Groups set up and running. The CO asked if the four of us wanted to deliver

them across Theatre to get it done. Again we had a long chat before making up our minds

and also put in a couple of caveats.

They were that we would go out and work as two teams Johan and Marlin then Vinka and Me,

we would deliver, set up and train the operators. The interpreters would be the presenters and

the guys running them would act as producers and maintain the kit, he agreed to this and

so we started our pre-deployment training, we were well up to speed with most everything

anyway.

We spent a few days at the factory tasked with building these RIABs and shown everything

there was to know about them, we also spent a couple of weeks at BFBS (British Forces

Broadcasting Service) at Chalfont and learnt all about teaching presenters and producers.

Next we visited a few radio stations to see how they operated and spoke with many presenters

and producers, we finished up writing a training programme that we could deliver within a

week to the troops on the ground, complete with an idiots guide.

Back in the middle of 2007 Johan and I had spent a few weeks in Sangin to set up one of

the 4KW transmitters and trained a few interpreters to use it and their minders to run the

show, after the RIP the handover didn’t go well and the new team broke it beyond repair, thus

leaving the whole area without any form of comms to the local population at all other than

word of mouth on patrols, which by this time was highly dangerous because of the IED treat.

The four of us deployed out with Three Commando Brigade in mid November 2008, having

briefed the entire Headquarters and all the Battle Group commanders, so everyone knew we

were coming and what we had to achieve in the short time we were there. It was great to be

working with Royal Marines again. We flew out with fourteen complete RIAB sets with all

the laptops preloaded with music, jingles and messages already to go.

We didn’t have any time to train anyone up prior to leaving so had to hit the ground running.

Our first task was to introduce ourselves to Buzzard, he was the most important person in

the operation, he would arrange to get us onto flights and to where we needed to be, next we

had a container allocated to us at the helipad at Camp Bastion with a lock and instructions

that only we had access, next the team at Lashkar Gar who would coordinate where we

needed to install each set. We had a four man portacabin allocated to us at Camp Bastion

to use as our accommodation and to leave messages for each other if we missed each other

while transiting.

While in the HQ at Lashkar Gar we bumped into some old mates, the RQMS and the Ops

Company Sergeant Major, we were in training with back at Lympstone all those years ago,we had a great catch up over dinner, they offered us what ever help we needed, great blokes.

Camp Bastion had grown massively since we were last here, the distance from the helipad

to the hospital was about a mile and in-between was accommodation with the main galley/

cookhouse in the middle, there was an American Special Forces Base to the north side and

a Danish contingent to the south, the main runways were to the east, there were so many

troops based here and just trying to find your way around was a challenge. Along with a

dozen other nations and many different units, I think there were some ten thousand troops

there at one time.

We completed this in our first week in Theatre, having all the contact details and direct

lines to the key players we were up and running. Johan and Marlin were the first to leave

Camp Bastion with their first two RIABs and were sent to Lashkar Gar HQ to install one in

the PSE and train the team there, while there they had the opportunity to brief the Brigade

Commander at his nightly briefing, he told every Battle Group to give every assistance to us

and pass it down to their chains of command.

Their second job was over in Nad Al lee at the District Centre where there was a Company

group with a platoon of ANA (Afghan National Army) and a group of ANP (Afghan National

Police), they had four interpreters and two guys to work with, Marlin took the lead with the

interpreters and Johan the guys, they did a great job in a week and had it up and running.

Within a couple of days of going live they already had feed back from the ground.

Meanwhile Vinka and I were tasked with Kajaki in the North of Helmand at the Dam, we

were loaded on a Chinook with our first two RIABs, on landing we had a hand to off load

all our kit, the aircraft left, we were shown our accommodation. We set too straight away

with the guys, I trained the interpreters and Vinka trained the guys running them. The

interpreters found it funny that a woman was in charge and telling men what to do, I told

them they were lucky she wasn’t telling them what to do.

That evening meal they had a galley set up, as we sat down Ross Kemp and his small team

came in to get their scran and came and sat at our table, he noticed we were different and

asked what we were doing, Vinka said ‘if we tell you we will have to kill you’. We laughed,

anyway we told him and had a great chat into the night, early next morning he and his team

flew out to Muse Karla.

Johan and Marlin had been working over in Muse Karla when Ross Kemp and his team

had arrived for a few days filming with the lads, they had a few conversations with him in

the galley, he was very interesting in our work and said he met Vinka and Me but couldn’t

include it in his documentary as he already had his schedule sorted out.

Within a few days we had moved to the top of the hills that over looked the entire area to set

up the radio and start to broadcast, within a week they were firing on all cylinders and were

all over it. Within a couple of days broadcasting they already had feed back from the patrols,

that not only was the radio being heard but people were listening to it, there wasn’t anythingelse available, they had no choice.

Vinka and I were sent from Kajaki all the way to the south of Helmand to Garmsir where the

Royal Welsh were operating. Within a couple of days we were ready. The next day we had

a test of the kit and went live just for half an hour in the afternoon, they went live the next

morning, by lunch time a few locals approached the base waving pieces of paper, it turns out

they wanted a song playing for them and their friends.

Over the next couple of days dozens more locals arrived, it was all from men, Vinka came

up with the idea to have the interpreters play a couple of tunes for girls, that afternoon loads

of notes were brought in by blokes for their sisters, we flew out a couple of days later back

to Lashkar Gar, we had over a thousand notes, that evening we attended the nightly briefing

and told the Brigade Commander of the success in Garmsir and Kajaki, he was impressed.

Next we were flown up to Sangin via Camp Bastion to pick up a couple of RIABs, it hadn’t

change much since I was last there setting up the 4KW station, the only difference was the

radio equipment had been taken out of the box body and put in a room and the transmitter

was burnt out, it looks like someone disconnected the main coax to the antenna and put

full power through the transmitter, thus killing it. Anyway we set too training the guys and

within a couple of days were up and running, we spent a couple of days sorting out and

packing getting the 4KW kit ready to back load to Chicksands, it finally arrived back a year

later totally wrecked and was written off.

Johan and Marlin were sent to Girskh between Sangin and Lashkar Gar, the Danish were

running this FOB with some Americans, so spent a week there getting the blokes trained and

up and running. A couple of the Danes had come through Chicksands so had a good catch

up on how things had been since they did the course.

The four of us spent the next month delivering and training loads of people on this kit to

ensure that it not only was being maintained but also respected and kept working efficiently.

We actually managed to meet up in Lashkar Gar for a couple of days for our birthday before

heading out again. We missed another Christmas but did manage a few phone calls home to

the family.

A very funny thing happened one day and the four of us ended up in a Patrol Base called

Gibraltar in the Sangin Valley where a friend of ours Captain Tom Sawyer who we had skied

with at the Telemark Champs, he had a small team, we arrived within an hour of each other

to deliver a RIAB, we spent four days there, one afternoon we had arranged to all go out on

a patrol with him to see local leaders, fortunately for us Buzzard sent a message that the only

flight for a few days was due to lift us out before lunch.

Arriving back in Lashkar Gar later that day to sort out the last couple of RIABs there was

an Op Minimise called, (all phone calls out were switched off until the families had been

informed) we found out later that Tom and his patrol had all been killed by an IED, we would

have been on that patrol, this news rocked us to the core, we had to take a couple of days offall together to process this.

By the time we had delivered all the RIABs there were two left in reserve that we moved to

the PSE in Lashkar Gar so if one were to go down then they could replace it straight away

without having to wait months to have a new one sent from the UK.

A few days later while getting ready to return to Chicksands we ended up on the same

flight as Ross Kemp and his film crew, he had been back to the UK and come back out

again. We had a challenging flight back being stuck in Cyprus for a couple of days then

nobody to meet us at Brize Norton, but on the bright side Ross was fun, mainly because

we took the mickey out of him, he took it in good faith. We exchanged numbers with the

idea of keeping in touch.

We arrived back at Chicksands in March 2009 aged 53 that would be our last deployment,

we would spend the next two years training others to take over from us giving as much

knowledge as possible and experience we had gained over the years.

Initially our main focus was to get as many people trained on the RIABs and how to be

a producer to all those that were going to deploy and run a radio. We had them come to

Chicksands where we ran several courses while handing over all our course notes.

Unknown to us Major now Brigadier Bruce had kept an eye on our work over the years

and had written all four of us up for MBEs in the 2009 Queen’s Birthday Operational

Honours list, the first we knew was when the letters from the Lord Chancellors office

arrived a month before, we were over the moon but were sworn to secrecy until it was

announced in the London Gazette and press.

Way back when the National Lottery started we just for fun set up a syndicate between us

four never expecting anything to come of it, yes we had a few small wins over the years and

because we did it on direct debit it went out of our minds, until the Christmas draw, our

numbers hit the jackpot, we had won twelve and a half million pounds.

Over the years you know those conversations come up and the talk is all about a big lottery

win and what you would do with the money, well we had these conversations, and all

agreed that we would love a big house by the sea, a lovely Hallberg Rassy and sail around

the Atlantic Circuit, have load of motorbikes and all manor of things, well this had come

true for us.

We still had a couple of years to run on our current contracts and didn’t see any point in

leaving before that, but with all this money we did want to do a few things and one of the

first was to make sure that our kids paid off their mortgages and were financially secure.

We also made some wise investments that would protect our capital and give us financial

security for ever and a steady income.

We took leave and flew to Sweden and spoke to Ronnie and ordered a brand new HallbergRassy 43 Mark 3 with all the bells and whistles, electric winches for all the sails including

the stay sail for a trip around the Atlantic Circuit when we finished in the Army, besides it

would take a year to build and deliver anyway.

We next talked about a house on the coast and thought what it would look like and what

we wanted in it, obviously somewhere for all the bikes and a workshop to work on them,

a sauna, plunge pool and hot tub, plenty of bedrooms for family and guests, a gym to keep

fit and a dance floor and bar for parties.

We eventually found a run down place on just over an acre of land not far from Gosport

with a great view of the Isle of Wight that was the perfect location but the house had seen

better days, our plan was to knock it down and build exactly what we wanted that would

fit our requirements. Without hesitation we put an offer in and it was accepted, fantastic,

what next. We needed an architect and a builder. We found a brilliant architect with a

brilliant reputation and hired him. The girls with their Intelligence background checked

him out, Charlie came highly recommended with excellent references and qualifications.

We spent hours talking with him and giving him our requirements, he told us all the pit

falls and hurdles that required to be completed before we could start to even knock down

the old house, he saw the look of dread on our faces but immediately put our minds at rest

and said he would take care of everything.

He was awesome and emailed us once a week on current progress. A couple of months

after we engaged him he called us into a meeting to show us the blueprints he had drawn

up for the new house, he also had two scale models of the foot print showing the house

and out buildings.

He showed us two stiles of what can only be described as an Edwardian and Georgian

Manor houses. We loved them both, the Edwardian one was double fronted with a central

main door with bay windows on either side which extended up to the second floor with

a balcony on top with accessed from the roof, effectively a three story house, there were

pillars either side of the grand front door entrance holding up the balcony above.

The Georgian one was slightly less ornate but also double fronted with tall windows on

either side of the main entrance which protruded from the rest of the house with a balcony

above with pillars holding it up, giving the appearance of grandeur.

The inside layouts was similar in both, there was an entrance hall which lead to a grand

central staircase, there was a corridor on either side of the staircase with door leading into

the rooms, on one side there was a large living room and the opposite side a large study,

next to the study was a TV studio complete with a production control room, we wanted to

make YouTube videos when we retired.

Beyond the large living room was a large dining room that would hold twenty people

comfortably and the main kitchen adjacent to it for ease of serving, there was a largepantry and then a utility room off the kitchen. Back on the other side next to the studio

was a smaller sitting room for cosy nights in together, and a small dining room that

would also be an interest room for our memorabilia, across the back of the house was a

large long conservatory leading out into a courtyard.

Down one side of the courtyard with a door from the conservatory that led into the bike

shed and workshop, this was large enough to hold at least fifty bikes and a workshop

area for four bike tables and work benches. Down the other side of the courtyard was a

large long double width garage which could hold six cars and along the bottom end of

the courtyard was the sauna, plunge pool and hot tub all under cover with a folding door

that opened out onto the courtyard with an area for sunbathing.

Each of the designs has a large cellar which would have a wine cellar, a large dance floor,

bar and a multi gym, the dance floor could also double up as a fighting ring where mats

could be placed down for us to practice our aikido fighting skills, which of course the

girls were now instructors.

Moving back upstairs to the second floor where the landing from the main stairs split and

at the front of the house were the two master bedrooms both with en suite bathrooms and

walkin dressing rooms. Both rooms had double aspect windows looking to the front and

side of the house. On one side of the king size bed was a door leading into the bathrooms

with a large double ended bath a separate shower, toilet and sink, on the other side was a

door leading into the large dressing room.

Between the two master bedrooms was a viewing area looking out across the Solent,

the Edwardian house had a door leading onto the balcony. Coming back from each

side were the other bedrooms, four doubles all with their own en suite with the rear two

rooms looking out onto the court yard. Between these last bedrooms was a staircase

leading to the attic.

The Edwardian house had a few extra rooms on the third floor, the Georgian one also

could be configured for some extra rooms, great for the grandchildren. The front of the

house leading from the road could accommodate parking for about twelve to fourteen

cars with enough space to drive into the garage.

After much deliberating we decided to go Edwardian with the bay windows and in the

attic a couple of rooms with bunk beds like we used to have back in the lodge in Sweden,

for our grandchildren when they came to visit.

It took just over a year for the planning to be accepted by the council before any work

could begin, as it turned out it took another year for the build to complete, this happened

while we were sailing around the Atlantic circuit. More on that later.

The day finally arrived in late August 2009 that we all attended Buckingham Palace to

receive our MBEs from Her Majesty The Queen, what an awesome day, in fact we madea week of it arriving in London the day before and booked into the Special Forces Club in

Knightsbridge for five nights where we had been members since our SAS days.

The next morning we had a lovely breakfast in the club then ordered a taxi to take us to

Buckingham Palace. The taxi dropped us off at the north gate to the forecourt where we

were met by an usher dressed in a mourning suit, he showed us across the forecourt and

into the inner courtyard, he took us to the long gallery and showed us where to wait.

We were all dressed in our best blues when one of the equerry briefed us on the protocol

and what would happen, where and when we would be call forward to attend Her Majesty

The Queen. The last time we had met The Queen was when Johan and I were awarded

our Military Medals, as she presented me my MBE she said she remembered giving me

my MM, what a memory.

After the presentation we were invited over to Wellington Barracks Sergeant’s Mess for

lunch by the Garrison Sergeant Major. We asked if it was possible for the tailors shop

would be kind enough to mount our medals for us that day because in a couple of days

time we were invited to a special reception at Buckingham Palace then in the evening

attend a formal dinner at the Tower of London.

For the girls had by now accrued a fair rack of medals, in order they each had, there

new MBE, Northern Ireland, first Gulf, Kosovo, Macedonia, Afghanistan, Iraq, Golden

Jubilee, Diamond Jubilee, Accumulated Campaign Medal, and the Volunteer Reserve

Service Medal and clasp, eleven medals in all, that was impressive, they also needed their

miniatures mounting as well.

Mean while Johan and I had a fair collection ourselves with our new MBE, MM, Northern

Ireland, UN Cyprus, First Gulf, Kosovo, Macedonia, Afghanistan, Sierra Leone, Iraq,

Golden Jubilee, Diamond Jubilee, Accumulated Campaign Medal, and our Volunteer

Reserve Service Medal and clasp, fourteen in all, that along with our miniatures was a lot

of work for someone. The following lunch time we returned to the Mess and there were

our medals all done. The Garrison Sergeant Major did us proud, well the tailors shop did.

The following day was the day of the Special reception and the weather could not have

been more perfect for August, warm bright sunshine and along with a couple of hundred

other people we attended the event. We arrived by taxi from the Special Forces Club, as

we got out near the main gate to Buckingham Palace, one of the ushers came over to us as

we were just about to join the large Cue then escorted us to the north gate and onto the

forecourt.

This might have something to do with the fact that all four of us were dressed in our best

Blues complete with our newly mounted medals, the other people must have thought us

very important being given special treatment. As we marched across the forecourt all

in perfect step the girls in front and under the central arch and into the inner courtyard,

where we were ushered into the Palace Long room where we met the Garrison SergeantMajor who welcomed us then showed us the best place to stand and said we would be

presented to one of the Royal Family.

As we stepped out into the Garden and the beautiful manicured lawn, over to the left

was a marquee where one could take tea and a cucumber sandwich, on the right side

of the entrance to the garden was one of the Household Division Bands playing, there

were people standing on the lawn in small groups talking and passing the time of day, all

dressed in suits and summer dresses with a few uniforms mixed in.

As we were standing around having just had a cup of tea and a cucumber sandwich,

complete with pinky raised, we were approached by one of the equerry and they asked if

we would like to be presented to the Princess Royal Princess Anne.

A short while later we were summoned over to meet Princess Anne, what a lovely lady

she is, we had the most wonderful chat with her, Vinka and Marlin were very impressed,

they did find it funny that they towered over her, them being five foot ten and all, The

Princess asked if they were sisters as apart from Vinka being blond and Marlin being a

brunette, they could have been, even for fifty-four year olds they were stunning.

Princess Anne was dressed in her Royal Navy uniform, she asked about Johan and

my Commando flash and our SAS wings, we told her that we started life out as Royal

Marines then Royal Anglian’s before joining the SAS and now back as Royal Anglian’s,

she was impressed with our medal collection, I told her its because they don’t like us and

kept sending us into harms way, she laughed.

Having spent about fifteen minutes with The Princess we were approached by another

equerry and asked if we would like to be presented to Sophie the Duchess of Wessex,

it turns out she had asked to meet us, she is even more beautiful in the flesh than on

camera, we had twenty minutes of her time. She was very interested in Vinka and

Marlin’s medal collection and how they looked like sisters, she asked about their acsents

and was surprised they were Swedish, they had become British cititzens when they were

twenty after we were married.

Finally we thought we were done when another equerry approached us and said that

His Royal Highness The Duke of Edinburgh would like a word, him being one of my

favourite Royals we simply couldn’t refuse. He was such a laugh and very down to earth

and a total joy to speak too, he had a wicked sense of humour and had us in stitches.

By the time we left the Palace we only had a short time to get back to the Club get

changed into our Mess Kit and jump into another taxi to take us to the Tower of London

for a formal dinner as guests of honour by one of our old bosses, who just happened

to be an officer in the RRF (Royal Regiment of Fusiliers) where he was entitled to hold

formal dinners in the Tower where his Regiment had their museum.The taxi dropped us off outside the Tower main entrance where we were met by a Yeoman

Warder and our old Boss and escorted through the gate and to the museum where we met

a few other friends who had been invited, we had a most convivial evening with excellent

food and lovely wine and finished off with a very special vintage port.

We were all feeling a little squify when we got into the taxi for the ride back to the Club,

where we had a nightcap before retiring for the night, next morning after a light breakfast

we dressed in out best suits and the girls in new frocks they had brought for the occasion.

As we had another invite from another one of our old bosses, he invited us to lunch at the

HAC (Honourable Artillery Company) in one of the private rooms with a selected few

dignitaries in our honour. That was a very special memorable lunch, we are not at liberty

to say who else was there but very important they were. I would like to say that the food

was excellent and the wine exceptional.

That evening we had tickets to see Half a Sixpence at the Noel Coward Theatre with

Charlie Stamp as the lead, what a terrific show, I think the girls had a crush on Arthur

Kipps. It is one of our favourite shows of all time, I think over the years we have seen it

about half a dozen times. Exhausted we headed back to the Club for a nightcap and bed.

All the cabs we taken from or to the Club, not one of them charged us, regardless if we

were in uniform or not, they just said, “on the house gov”.

The following day we checked out of the Club and caught the train home to Hitchin for a

quiet weekend before returning to work on the Monday morning. We had one of the best

weeks of our lives and some wonderful memories and photos.

With just over a year to go before we all retired we had a plan to start stepping back and

letting fresh blood to start delivering courses, we would be on hand to assist and advise

where necessary, but we really needed to work on our resettlement and what courses were

available to us and what we wanted to do.

With us getting a new boat we thought it good to do a boat maintenance course, we had

all the sailing qualifications we needed but having never actually owned a boat ourselves

we didn’t know all that other than the regular stuff. We were booked onto a three week

course with the Hamble School of Yachting and booked into the Riverside House Hotel

in Hamble village for the duration, it was clean and the staff were cheerful, the food was

good and the rooms were comfortable, we couldn’t ask for more.

We learnt how to make glass fibre repairs, how to find problems with the electrical

system, sail repairs, how to service and fault find on the diesel engine, how to service

the outboard engine, make repairs to the dinghy, how to look after the teak deck, fault

diagnose instrument issues, service life jackets and all the other safety equipment and a

lot of other stuff, all very useful.The rest of 2009 seemed to flash by, we did managed to attend all the Mess dinner’s that

year for the first time, our mess bills were very high but we enjoyed every function.

After the Christmas Draw we returned to Sweden for the holiday, mainly to check up

on how our new boat was coming along, Ronnie showed us round and said it would

be finished in March and ready to collect early April, we were so excited.

Sven had taken over the business from his father Stefan and was running the lodge

with his wife Vera. Stefan and Torva had retired but still helped out when needed.

That Christmas in the lodge was so much fun even though we still missed Greta and

Olaf, it wasn’t the same without them but nice to have our grandchildren there which

made all the difference. We even had a few days out skiing, having saunas and rolling

in the snow. We were home in time for the Mess New Years Eve party which was so

much fun.

Starting back after Christmas leave and only having eight months left to go before we

finally retired, working things out with the resettlement officer taking into account

our terminal, annual and resettlement leave we were due to finish work mid April

with our last day in service being the 30th of August.

The Mess had a Burns Night Supper which we all attended, what a terrific night, the

mess was laid out with the large round tables, the food was fantastic with the Haggis,

Neaps and Tattis, there was lots about Burns and many of his poems and whiskey to

be drunk, the girls loved it as they had studied Burns at school, they each got up and

read a poem to raptures applause, we all had thick heads in the morning.

By March we had pretty much handed over all our responsibilities to the new guys

and were wandering around like spare parts with nothing to do, we used this time

to hand in all our military kit apart from our best Blues and mess kit which we kept,

we had a plan for these, Then we started the plan to pick up the new boat and bring

her back. The plan was simple enough to sail back but we needed our personal stuff

so we made a list of everything we thought we would require and then went out and

brought it ready to take in the van to Sweden.

We actually surprised ourselves just how much stuff we needed. We with all the new

stuff loaded into the van there was just enough room left for the four of us, the plan

was we would drive to Ellios unload everything onto the boat and while Johan and

I drove the van back home Vinka and Marlin would stow everything away, then we

would fly back to Sweden ready to sail back to England.

Like clockwork everything dropped into place, once Johan and I returned we would

spend a couple of weeks around Ellios to have a final shakedown to iron out any

issues before sailing across the North Sea and into the English Channel and round

into the Hamble and along side Transworld Yachts who are the Hallberg Rassy agents

in the UK who handled all the import formalities and tax duty and registration.So we all agreed we would call our new boat ‘Salamanca’ after our first platoon when we

were Corporals at the Depot, it sounded good and meant something to us all. We had

the new tender which was a Highfield four metre with a 10hp outboard to fit the davits

delivered to the factory. We also had the factory fit a solar panel arch with two 400ah

panels fitted, we didn’t want gas but electric for cooking so had a microwave. Electric

hob and oven. They were kind enough to coppercoat the bottom instead of normal anti

foul. With all the bells and whistles it cost us just over seven hundred thousands pounds

including the import tax.

We had already applied for a birth with the Army Sailing Association whom we had all

been members for years and although we were just over the maximum length they did

give us a birth in Dolphin Pool in Fort Blockhouse, we had after all run lots of courses

for them over the years. For any normal boat it would have been a challenging birth

to get into but we had bow and stern thrusters which made it a piece of cake. We also

applied for a defaced blue ensign with the Army anchor, lion and crossed swords.

So we had the boat all registered duty paid and alongside our new birth at the end of

may, with our plan to cross the channel and head for Spain during August and eventually

cross the Atlantic by December.

Meanwhile the week before we departed to go on leave the CO sort permission from the

Camp Commandant for the Group to formally dined us out in The Priory, the Officers

Mess, what an honour and a marvellous evening. The Group presented us with a very

special print made by the print section featuring the four of us outside Buckingham

Palace with our MBEs in the centre and all around were pictures of us on different

operations and exercises, that would take pride of place in our new home.

Two days later the Sergeant’s Mess also dined us out and that was a spectacular evening.

We had somewhere close on two hundred and fifty Mess Members there that evening

to dine us out, at both events each of us had to give a speech, it was very emotional on

both occasions.

The Mess presentation was bronze statues, for Marlin a British Army Female soldier

on combat patrol in Afghanistan, for Vinka a British Army Female soldier on patrol in

Northern Ireland, Johan an Arctic Warfare British Army Soldier with SLR and wearing a

Marine Beret and for me the Commando Memorial at Speen Bridge, we loved them and

they will always have a special place in our hearts and home.

Work had finally started on knocking down the old house and clearing the site in early

July ready to start the new build, first they needed to dig a massive hole for the cellar

which took dozens of lorry’s to shift all the muck away. Just before we set sail they

started to lay the foundations. Charlie our architect was going to project manage the

entire build himself while we were away and keep us updated on progress.He employed a team of master builders who were all local and experts in their own

right, we had full confidence they would do the job right. Back in Hitchin Harry and

Ingred were going to keep an eye on our houses, we hadn’t decided what to do with

them but for the time being they stood idle and housed all the bikes.

Over the years we had all become good at filming and editing and completed loads of

courses as well as delivering them to others, so our plan was to record our journey’s

and up load them to YouTube, so we brought a lot of new kit including two top spec

apple macbook pros plus a load of external hard drives, along with half a dozen of the

latest GoPro cameras as well as a couple of Sony ZV10 camera kits and lenses to match,

tripods and two sets of Rode wireless Go mics, we were all kitted out and ready to go.

We found a couple of young guys who had just left the Royal Marines having done

four years and a tour of Afghanistan and Iraq, Tom and Jimmy had specialised as

photographers when they finished their general duty Marine stint. They were at college

doing a course in TV and film production, we asked them to run our YouTube channel

while we were away and edit the videos, they did a fantastic job, we supplied them with

a MacBook Pro and hard drives and everything else they needed.

We spent June and July taking Salamanca out on shake down sails just to ensure we

knew how everything worked and that we had all that was needed for our up coming

adventure, we also perfected our filming techniques and were happy with the editing

process. It was a great chance for each of us to practice our camera presents and to get

the mic volume right for each of us when doing a piece to camera.

During this period we also planed our passage to the Caribbean, looking at all the

possible routes, weather patterns tidal flows etc. We also checked our iridium sat phone

to make sure we could receive data for weather forecasts. We also provisioned the boat

with all the essentials. The last thing we did was to get her lifted and had the bottom

cleaned off of any weed so there wasn’t anything to slow her down.

Our plan was to sail the Atlantic circuit as quick as we could, not being too bothered

about stopping off but wanting to complete the challenge via New York and back to

Gosport by August or early September to see the house finished. For us it was all about

the challenge of sailing across the Atlantic twice, visiting places would be a bonus.

That was it a final meet up with Charlie at the new house site, it was on schedule and we

set off across the channel heading in a fresh northerly breeze and heading for Breast and

hopefully out into the Bay of Biscay and onto La Corunna, we couldn’t believe our luck,

the weather gods were definitely on our side and we made Spain in five days without

putting the engine on once.

The weather had been so good and the forecast was for it to continue we decided to sail

on and head for Madeira which we made in another five days, wow 1300 miles in justten days. We made the choice to spend a week or so on Madeira and do some editing, more

filming and admin. We had so much fun filming, we split into teams with a camera each

and would go and find something interesting to film and take turns being the presenter or

cameraman.

Over the week we changed round teams so by the end of the week we had all worked with

each other and all had a go at both jobs. Each evening we would look through the rushes

and try and sort out the best bits and started putting a film together, this was the most

challenging part of the whole process, at least we did have some rough cuts to polish as we

went along.

After stocking up on some fresh fruit and veg we slipped and headed out towards the

Canaries and Tenerife some 260 miles in the most favourable winds, a perfect forty hour

sail, the weather gods must have loved us, would it last, time would tell. We stayed for two

weeks and did a lot of exploring, filming and editing whilst on Tenerife, all the time keeping

a weather eye on the forecast. We also spoke to many other sailors going to the Caribbean

about their plans.

We planned to sail some eight hundred miles south to the Cape Verde islands to catch

the trade winds across the Atlantic to Barbados. There was a good forecast for us to leave

Tenerife and head south, six days later we arrived at the Cape Verde Islands, and landed in

Mindelo the main town on the Islands which also had an airport.

We spent a week there in which time several other yachts had arrived. Talking with other

crews the general consensus was that the forecast was looking good in a couple of days time

to leave with the best weather to start the crossing. Plans were made and provisions sort

and we were ready to cross the Atlantic. Salamanca has a water maker so we were able to

shower at will and have plenty of water.

The next morning there was a mass exodus from Mindelo as some thirty yachts left including

us. Sails were set, watches assigned and we were off to cross the two thousands odd miles

to our first destination in the Caribbean, Barbados. This was the middle of November and

with a near perfect sail in sixteen days, we did stop in the middle and dropped all the sails

and went for a dip, I can say that our feet couldn’t touch the bottom. We got into a watch

pattern, which was by the time we reached Barbados getting a little monotonous towards

the end.

We spent five days on Barbados and got itchy feet and wanted to get underway again, so

we did an overnight sail to Martinique and dropped the hook in Sainte Anne bay and went

ashore for the day to have a look around and have a cocktail on the beach, having had a

restful night we weighed anchor next morning after breakfast at headed the three hundred

odd miles north to Guadeloupe, after three days we anchored in Deshaies which is situated

on the north west corner of the island.

Our plan was to spend Christmas in the British Virgin Islands, it took us two days to sail thetwo hundred miles to Tortola where we booked a berth in Wickhams Cay and the inner

harbour marina. We were along side the day before our birthday so planned to have a

special dinner onboard, fortunately we had a good wifi signal and were able to do a zoom

call with all the kids.

We had a fun week here and joined lots of other cruisers for a New Years Eve party in one

of the bars ashore. The first day of 2012 was a slow day trying to clear our hangovers from

the brilliant previous nights fun. We slipped early on the second and by late evening we

anchored in Bahia Las Cabezas on the eastern end of Puerto Rico, where we stayed for a

few days waiting for a weather window to move further north.

We did explore quite a bit and got some great footage which we managed to up load so

Tom and Jimmy had something to work on when they came back to work. I think we are

getting so much better with our filming techniques from when we first set out. Although

fairly sporadic we did manage to do a few live shows from the boat while in marinas with

good wifi signals, which our growing audience appreciated.

With a good weather window we left Puerto Rico and headed just over three hundred

miles to Luperon in the Dominican Republic, three and a half days of magical sailing.

Ensuring Salamanca was secure on the hook we got a water taxi ashore and a combination

of public transport, bus and rail we took a trip down to Santiago for a couple of days to

explore and film, this was fascinating.

We had a great time and while we were there we applied for a sailing permit to enter

Cuba, knowing from our research that we could only stay there a maximum of two weeks

then had to leave, we also knew that we couldn’t sail direct to the US but had to go via the

Bahamas so we planned to go to Rum Cay then onto Nassau before heading for Florida.

The plan worked a dream, we had a fascinating time the ten days we were on Cuba and

did a huge amount of filming, it just seems that Cuba is the place that time forgot, they

appear to be stuck in the 1950s, it was awesome, it felt a bit like ‘Back to the Future’. How

they managed to keep all those old cars going is a miracle along with everything else.

When we arrived in Nassau we went along side because they had excellent wifi and we

uploaded all the footage from Cuba, having checked with Jimmy first that he could see

and use the footage we deleted off the hard drive just in case the Yanks got funny about

us visiting Cuba.

Sailing out of Nassau we had a two day passage to the St Lucie Inlet and into the Indian

River where we motored our way some hundred miles in two days to Titusville marina

where we had booked a berth for a couple of weeks and hired a car, we were off to Orlando.

Because the girls had translated all the Harry Potter books and that the new theme park

had opened in 2010 we were all excited to experience all that it had to offer, we lovereading the books and watching the films, so with wands in hand and robes on we spent

a magical couple of days there. We spent the rest of the week doing the rest of the theme

parks, Disney, Universal and the water parks, we headed back to Salamanca absolutely

knackered.

We spent the next week slowly motoring our way up the inner channel to Jacksonville

and stopped there for a couple of weeks to visit some old US military friends there before

heading further north to Wilmington, North Carolina, this was the longest passage we

covered almost four hundred miles in five days. We found a nice little marina where we

could leave Salamanca for a few days while we hired another car.

We drove over to Fort Bragg and stayed with some old friends from 4 POG, The 4th

Psychological Operations Group (Airborne) is one of the United States Army’s active

military information support operations units. A couple of them were still serving and

took us to the base for a tour to show us their new facilities, they were really great hosts

and we had a great time. We were the guests of honour in the Officers Mess, fortunately we

did have our old mess kit with us, lucky they fore warned us this was going to happen, the

following day we gave a presentation to all of 4 POG that were on camp, there was roughly

about a thousand or so, why did our one hour talks last over four hours, fortunately the

lunch bell saved us or we might still be there.

A couple of days later we were back on Salamanca and getting ready to sail further north

and round to Norfolk, West Virginia to catch up with some other old pals from the US

Navy, one being an Admiral who was kind enough to allow us to go along side the naval

base, he also laid on a special dinner for us and made us guests of honour. We found it

amazing how veterans are treated in America, “thank you for your service” everywhere

we went, amazing.

Again we had to sing for our supper and give a presentation the following day, why is it

our hour talks last so long, we are inundated with questions and try as we might to keep

the answers short it just seem they want more.

With time pressing on and us wanting to get to New York for a few weeks to take in some

Broadway shows, we slipped and sailed nearly three hundred miles. As we entered New

York sailing past the Statue of Liberty then past Ellis Island and round into Liberty Yacht

Club marina and onto an old friends berth he said we could use for free, this was April and

we were keen to see some shows and the sights.

We did manage to get tickets for a few shows, which were great but like everything in

America were big and not intimate at all unlike some of the theatres in London. We paid

our respects at the site of the twin towers memorial, the action here changed our lives

totally and gave us a full career in the Army. We ran round Central Park a few times just

to keep up our fitness levels up.After three weeks we had enough and having kept a weather eye there was an excellent

forecast for at least the next week or so. That was it we sailed away from New York and

set course for Southern Ireland some three thousand miles across the North Atlantic and

prayed the weather gods would smile upon us.

For the first eleven days we had great weather and averaged around six knots an hour,

the forecast showed that a summer storm was heading our way, there was no ware for

us to go but to baton down the hatches put up the storm jib and reef the main and sit it

out, fortunately it passed through after thirty hours and left behind it a fantastic week

of glorious weather, on the twentieth day after leaving New York we sighted Southern

Ireland and sailed into Baltimore, had an over night stop.

Next morning on the tide we set sail again setting a course for the Scillies arriving some

twenty five hours later, this was the middle of July. We stayed on the Scillies for a couple

of weeks just to recharge ourselves from the long crossing of the North Atlantic before

heading towards home. We needed to do some exercise and build back our fitness levels

so spent a lot of time running around the islands everyday.

Taking the next couple of weeks stopping along the way at Plymouth, Dartmouth,

Portland and Newtown Creek we arrived back in Gosport in the middle of August having

sailed some ten thousand miles in twelve months to completed our Atlantic adventure

and back alongside our berth in Dolphin Pool. We had arranged for Harry to bring

down the van as he had looked after it since we left.

Charlie came to pick us up and take us to the new house, which wasn’t quite finish but

only had a few days left to finish the last bits of decorating in the attic. We were blown

away with it, the view from outside was amazing and even better than we had envisaged,

the pictures didn’t do it justice, the car park out front was finished in block paving with

different colours marking out parking bays and different colours again leading to the front

entrance and the large oak door, the double bay windows either side looked amazing.

As we entered the hall way and looked at the main stairway it was beautiful, the living

room was just perfect and the furnishings made the area, the study was brilliant, the

desks and chairs, book case look the business, of course we had ordered new computers

they were being delivered and set up in a day or so along with a sixty inch TV.

Next we went into the control room and studio, already all kitted out with several screens,

control desk, lights and the main Mac Studio computer, the actual studio was all sound

proofed with a green screen wall on one side and pull down screens behind the presenter

desks as well as a couple of couches and to top it off there were a dozen cameras, boom

mics, everything a professional studio would have.

The small sitting room had some comfy armchairs and a TV, the small dining room

was just right for the four of us for when we didn’t have guests. Across to the kitchenwas something else, there was plenty of worktop space, the top of the range gas cooker

and ovens, loads of cupboards, the utility room had a industrial washing machine and

dryer and a domestic washing machine and dryer for lighter loads of washing, there was

a professional steam press just like in the tailors shop and a normal ironing board and

steam iron.

Walking into the main dining room from the kitchen door with its wood panelling walls

was amazing, the large dark oak table and matching side boards along with the lovely

lighting, the pictures gave it an air of opulence, we couldn’t wait for our first dinner party,

walking back out into the corridor from the other door and along into the conservatory

looking out onto the courtyard was a sight to behold, it was fantastic, to the left was the

bike shed to the right the garage both had connecting doors from the conservatory, at the

bottom of the court yard was the sauna, plunge pool and hot tub all blended in perfectly.

The bike shed was just what we wanted enough space for at least fifty motorbikes and a

workshop area with four work tables with plenty of space around so we wouldn’t get in

each others way, there were work benches and tool cabinets which we had ordered from

Snapon along with all the tools we needed. There was plenty of natural lighting as well as

work lights, the floor was painted concrete with a pile of rubber based mats to stand the

bike on. We were hatching a plan to bring all the bikes down, the space was ideal to show

them off, our own little motorbike museum.

The sauna was large enough to comfortably seat a dozen people and so was the hot tub in-

between was the plunge pool all under cover with a full width folding doors that opened

out into the courtyard, in front was a lovely area to have sun beds. The garage was large

enough to put the van and at least five other cars in with an electric security door, in fact

the whole house had the state of the art security system complete with CCTV in all the

key areas.

Next we went back inside and down into the cellar, amazing just amazing, the ceiling

was about twelve foot high, on the near side by the stairs was the wine cellar with coolers

inside the room, two for red and the other two for white and large enough to hold at least

a hundred bottles each, there was also a load of wine racks beside them. I was looking

forward to stocking them after a visit to the Wine Society in Stevenage and getting some

from Claude’s.

Off to the right was the bar which had been rescued from a pub that was closing down, it

was a fantastic oak bar with brass foot rail and fittings, the back was fitted out with all the

optics, ice maker, room for glasses, washer and look just like in an Old English Country

pub, there was all sorts of lighting, soft mood, bright, glitter ball, spot lights we had it all.

Over in the corner next to the stage was the DJ booth complete with a sound system and

mixing desk. The stage was opporsite the bar and set back with a curtain and was large

enough to have a seven piece band for them to perform and play.We couldn’t help our selves and had to give the dance floor a try so popped on some

music and took to the floor, it felt just like the Tower Ballroom’s sprung floor it was

unbelievable, we could just imagine the hours we will spend dancing down here. Marlin

said why don’t we call it ‘The Salamanca Club’, the name stuck.

There were a couple of side rooms opporsite the wine cellar where the multi gym was

with a couple of running machines, rowing machines, a bench with some free weights,

everything to help keep us fit. The next door was the storeroom for the floor mats,

tables and chairs to go around the dance floor. It felt larger than the foot print of the

house, Charlie said it was and some of it was under the courtyard.

We were mighty impressed, we finally dragged ourselves away and headed up stairs to

look at the bedrooms, the two master bedrooms were identical the only difference was

the entrance door, once inside, again we were blown away, the carpets were the best

shag pile you could buy, the king size beds looked very comfortable, the bathrooms

were to die for, well the double ended baths were out of this world and the walkin his

and her’s dressing room were awesome, so much space.

Charlie told us that all the windows in the house were tripled glazed and the walls and

roof were insulated to the highest spec, the main gas boiler was very efficient and the

central heating would hardly need to be on.

The other eight bedrooms were of the same high standard but only had queen beds and

small bathrooms but still large enough to have a walkin shower, toilet and wash basin,

there was also wardrobes and a dressing table, all very comfortable for visitors.

Going up the stairs to the attic also carpeted but was still covered in plastic as this is

where the painters were finishing up. In the attic there is a room that has the boiler with

hot and cold water tanks all very accessible and easy maintained, this would feed all the

needs for the central heating and for showers at the same time. There were four more

doors that led into bedroom come storage rooms, two at the front were already kitted

out with bunk beds and wardrobes, the middle two we would keep as storage rooms.

We were so happy with the new house and couldn’t wait to move in, that was the next

plan, already it was pretty much furnished and only our personal effects needed to be

brought from our old houses in Hitchin.

We had ordered a new box bike trailer that would take four bikes and a brand new

Mercedes long wheel base high top Sprinter van with a double cab that would also take

the tools, leathers, helmets, spare wheels and two bikes which we were due to pick it up

the following day, this is just what we needed as the old one was getting on a bit, but still

had some life left in it.

Back at the boat we sorted her out while waiting for Harry to arrive, packed all ourstuff and cleaned her from top to bottom leaving her ready for the next time we would go

sailing. Driving back to Hitchin that afternoon we were filled with excitement.

The next day we picked up the new van and trailer and started to load some of the bikes

on along with some of our personal stuff ready to drive to the new house. With both vans

and trailers loaded as well as both cars we set off early in convoy the following morning

arriving in Gosport about nine o’clock.

Charlie met us at the house with a bottle of champaign and the keys. Just for a laugh Johan

and I carried the girls piggyback over the threshold then we toasted ‘The Old Manor

House’, that is what we called it, although it was brand new, our dreams had come true.

We spent the next couple of weeks moving the rest of the bikes and our stuff down and

getting organised. The final bill for The Old Manor House came in at just over five million

pounds, we were so pleased.

We decided to employ a house keeper to run the house and a cook, when we have

functions with guests we would have some temporary staff to help out with serving and

cleaning the rooms etc.

We were keen to employ veterans if we could, the first person we interviewed was Doris,

who had been a master chef in the RAF but was made redundant when they went ‘pay as

you dine’, with her twenty two years experience and had served on a dozen operational

tours, we couldn’t have found better anywhere, she was a spinster and had her own flat

about half a mile away, she had been working for a pub chain but hated it, she was stuck

in a rut and couldn’t find another job because she had no time, we struck gold.

The day Doris started with us we gave her a credit card and organised for her to go out

and purchase everything that she needed for the kitchen from knives to pots and pans,

anything she wanted or needed, irrelevant of cost, if it made her life easier get it.

As we just arrived at The Old Manor House the following day we took a trip the John

Lewis to order a full thirty piece dinner service along with two full sets of table glasses

one set Edinburgh crystal the other Waterford crystal, these included water glass, red,

white wine glasses, champaign flutes, whiskey tumblers, large port glasses, brandy glasses

and a few decanters.

For The Salamanca Club we ordered beer glasses, wine glasses, gin, rum, whiskey, vodka,

water and cocktail glasses, along with ice buckets and all the normal bar stuff one needs

to run a well stocked bar.

We had interviewed half a dozen ladies for the post as house keeper, none were right

until Wendy came along, she had served twenty five years in the Royal Navy as a steward,

ending up as a Warrant Officer, she had even been Chief Steward on the Royal Yacht

Britannia, fortunately she also lived less than a mile away and was fed up working for ahotel chain, where her skills and service weren’t appreciated. She was a diamond and

with both them joining our team we thanked our lucky stars.

Wendy was also given a credit card and asked to get what ever bedding she thought

we would need and obviously the best linen money could buy for summer and winter

along with a range of towels for the bathrooms and dressing gowns for the sauna that

guest might need and anything else housekeeping might need.

She also knew a small group of girls that were at college that also did some part time

work in the hotel, she could get them anytime, she had trained them and said we

could rely on them to not only be good chamber maids but could also do silver service

to a high standard, just what we were looking for.

Tom and Jimmy had been doing a great job and having finished their course they

came to work for us full time in the control room when filming, they were excellent at

switching cameras, getting sound levels and lighting spot on when recording, besides

being brilliant video editors, they had a friend helping them with the graphics who

was looking for a job so we took Mary on as well. We had a great team.

Mary had served in the Army for twelve years in the Intelligence Corps and had

specialised for Special Forces just like Vinka and Marlin, she was a sergeant with

many operation tours, after her fifth tour of Afghanistan she had enough which is

why she left, whilst at the same college as Tom and Jimmy they struck up a friendship

in a video graphics class.

We invested in a Mac server that linked all our terminals including in the studio and

workshop together so we could work on projects and it could be added to if we need

more storage. Full fibre had been installed so we were able to stream in 4K. The book

cases were also being filled with our books. The study was more like an Ops room

with eight work stations. The sixty inch TV come monitor on the wall which we could

put videos up while working on them plus the pin boards made it look a professional

work enviroment.

We had been in a month when we were ready to host our first dinner party, as a

thank you to Charlie and all the master builders who had worked on the house, we

invited them round with their wives, it was an wonderful evening and a tribute to

their craftsmanship we had such an awesome home. It was so the girls could practice

their silver service skills and for us get to know them and for them to know us.

The girls arrived early in the afternoon, Wendy introduced them, we sat and had

coffee and a chat, then showed them around ‘The Old Manor House’ where to find

everything, how the dishwasher, washing machines and dryers worked. Wendy

showed them where all the plates, cutlery and everything was in the dining room,

then down into ‘The Salamanca Club’ and how the bar stuff worked.By the time the guests arrived they were ready and all set, we had a most delightful

evening, the girls did Wendy proud, she had trained them exceptionally well, we certainly

didn’t have any complaints. The table was set, we used the gifts from the Sergeant’s mess

as table decorations, along with all the new cutlery and crystal glasses it looked pretty

awesome, a table fit for heroes.

The girls all popped round next morning to collect their pay and told us how much fun

they had and enjoyed and thanked us for the experience, they almost fainted when they

opened their pay packets, I thought two hundred and fifty pound each was a fair wage for

all their hard work the day before. We informed them that we had several dinner nights

planned over the coming months and would they be up for it, obviously they would get

more for a weekend when we had guests staying as the bedrooms would need attention.

Our first project was to get to know the studio and how we could best have fun recording

our very own chat show. We had lots of ideas, we could talk about sailing, rugby, travelling

and motorbikes, on the bike side of things we could show projects we were working on

or servicing the bikes ready to take to the track as well as film our track days, this proved

a great success.

We already had lots of footage of sailing and Jimmy wanted to go back over some of the

unseen footage and put together some additional videos for the channel to maintain

interest in sailing, we also went out on Salamanca to film around the Solent and further

afield as well to show what a great sailing area is.

We had this idea that we wanted to have a phone-in talk show which we had the capability

to do in the studio, so started to work out a format and how it would work, how we

would use the Autocue, camera angles, back drops, graphics, visual displays, so spent a

lot of time early on to perfect our techniques, Mary who was a whiz with video graphics,

she worked on perfecting this to give us a professional look.

By now we had acquired a couple more Ducati’s, an 11 99R and an 899S, the first time

we had a track day was fun trying to sort out who was going to ride what, in the end the

girls started with the two big bikes and Johan and I the smaller ones. We had brought

several new cameras that we attached to the bikes and our helmets, we also had three

other cameras that could capture the bikes going round, so Tom, Jimmy and Mary had

a day out with us.

We also had microphones inside our helmets and added commentary as we rode around,

the idea was that we rode as a pack changing positions to video each other, this made for

a great video, especially later in the day once we had plenty of practice and we were able

to ride very close to each other without knocking anyone off. Jimmy certainly had his

work cut out editing this days filming.Back at the studio we had planned to go live and in the lead up we had done several

promos to advertise it, Jimmy and Mary did a great job with this. So the evening

was upon us, the format for the first one was we would make like news presenters sat

behind the desks in our best suits and did it like a news programme but with sailing

and bike clips. The phone-in worked and we had half a dozen callers asking questions.

A couple of days later we did another live that also had been promoted, this time we sat

on the couches in a more relaxed style, again with a phone-in, this time we just chatted

about up coming projects and posed questions to the audience and asked them what

they would like to see. The comments were very busy, we also had several calls. People

wanted to see more sailing, more racing bikes and a lot more about us as people, this

gave us lots of new ideas.

We also had in the can several videos on a couple of restoration projects we had on the

go, along with servicing the race bikes and getting them ready for the next track day.

We also did a few videos on carrying out boat maintenance and a boat tour, these got

some great reviews, we were gaining a lot of followers.

As a thank you to Claude and Henry for supplying us with their finest wine over the

years, we invited them over to ‘The Old Manor House’ for a week with Edith and

Marie, we gave then the Royal treatment, they loved it. We still enjoyed helping with

the grape harvest and a lot of the wine we had in the wine cellar was picked by us, some

great vintages.

We thought we would get the old bikes out and go for a little tour and visit some

historical sites in our local area, more for us to find out than anything else, so having

checked out and serviced our trusty old bikes, again videoing the preparation, we left

‘The Old Manor House’ and headed out.

We had already worked out where we would go and found places along the way with

picturesque backdrops where Tom, Jimmy and Mary would wait for us to ride by,

when we got to the locations, again the three of them would film us arriving then we

would walk and talk about the sites we were visiting, this was a great format and was

received very well.

The one thing that came up time and time again was people wanted to know about us,

where we came from, what we did, so we thought we would do a relaxed show on the

couch and talked about us and what we had done with our lives. We recorded this as

we may need to edit some sensitive stuff out, but we gave a brief history of ourselves.

We did a video in the cellar where we just played some classic tunes and danced for

half an hour, showing how we waltz, quick stepped, foxtrot and the cha cha cha, people

went mad for it, they loved it. We then did a video of us working out in the gym, then

on the mats with Vinka and Marlin throwing Johan and I all over the place, this gotthe most response from any of our videos to date and people wanted to see more of Johan

and I being chucked about.

We were out one day riding the old bikes when we called into Pro Twins in Godstone, we

had used them over the years for spares and had brought a couple of bikes off them once,

they had one of the new Ducati Multistrada V4S in as a test bike and the new Panigale

V4S, we had heard a lot about these and asked if we could test ride them. Anyway to cut a

long story short we ordered four brand new V4S Multistrada’s, complete with a full touring

pack.

Two weeks later they were ready to collect, so Tom drove us there and we took delivery,

rather than have consecutive plates we had all opted for personal number plates, with the

balance paid and insurance sorted out we rode them back to Gosport, what bikes, they

were totally awesome, they had everything including cruse control, adaptive riding mode,

blind spot indicators, panniers, top box everything.

A plan was hatched and a Grand Tour was in the offing, working on the ‘Riding Through

History’ theme we came up with the idea to do the North Coast 500 but taking in some

historical places of interest on the way. We spent a couple of weeks in the study researching

lots of places along the way, the route and places to stop.

As it so happened the weekend we were setting off, Royston rugby club were hosting our

Royal Anglian Vets team the day before the Regimental Gathering at Duxford, what better

place to start than at our old home. Cameras rolling we set off the day before and stayed in

one of our old houses, the discussion that evening over fish and chips was what to do with

these houses, two thoughts came to mind, either sell or rent out.

We talked late into the evening looking at all the pros and cons, in the end I think we

decided to sell, put them on the market, we still had a lot of furniture left in them but little

of anything else. On our return from this trip we would get a company in to clear them

and contact an estate agent, they both sold before they were advertised and for the asking

price, result, they were after all, well sort after houses.

The next day Harry dropped us off at Royston rugby club where we had a marvellous day

seeing so many old friends, the game was very close all the way through with the Regiment

just getting it at the death. The club laid on a fantastic meal for everyone after the game

with plenty of beer flowing. Harry came to collect us later that evening, we were all a little

tippsie.

It was a bit of a hazy start to the day, fortunately the ride to Duxford wasn’t far, each year

the Regiment has a Gathering where members from the Royal Anglian Regiment and all

our forebear Regiments meet to celebrate our Regiments and remember our Fallen with

a Drum Head Service and March Pass. The weather gods smiled on the Regiment once

more and we had an excellent day catching up with old friends, many said they followedour channel and loved what we were doing.

We set off that afternoon for our hotel in York, the next day we would visit the National

Railway Museum and did a great piece videoing there, the new bikes attracted much

attention as did we in our new Ducati apparel to match the bikes.

We finished at the railway museum then rode up to Eden camp where we had lunch

before wandering around, this used to be a prisoner of war camp during the second

world war housing mainly Germans and some Italians, most of the camp is still standing

along with loads of artefact and stuff from the war years. We took lots of video and

explained to camera what to see in the different huts. It took us a good few hours and we

could have spent a lot more time there but we had to press on.

Leaving Eden Camp we travelled to Stanley and a hotel a couple of miles from Beamish

where we would start from the next morning. We arrived just before they opened and

were the first onto the site, so we jumped onto a tram that took us down to the new 1950’s

town and had the place to ourselves for about half an hour to video, it was fascinating

remember that a lot of the buildings and stuff we saw was around when we were kids,

now in a museum. We even stopped off and had a froffiy coffee in the 50s cafe with a tea

cake, that brought back some memories, it was a shame the prices weren’t 50s though.

The village hall was similar to the one in Hitchin, well the house could have been the one

Johan and I grew up in.

We then walked round to the 1900s town, by this time it was starting to get a little busier

but we did manage to keep most people out of shot, we went into the garage, there were

some old motorbikes from the 20s and 30s, which gave us an idea to maybe try and find

and restore a few bikes like this when we returned home. We finished off round the bus

depot and railway yard before catching a bus back to the entrance and the bikes to head

off for Scotland and a hotel just outside Edinburgh for the night.

The following morning after breakfast we rode over to Leith to visit the Royal Yacht

Britannia, we timed it perfect as there were only a few people there, we managed to film

all the way round with out bumping into anyone until we got to the bridge, there we had

to wait a little while for them to move away before we could film. Wendy would one day

bring us back for a better visit with some juicy dits.

After, we headed over to the Biker Cove Cafe at South Queensferry, which was situated

just under the forth bridge, we went there to see what it was all about, on arrival a group

of bikes just left so we were able to park the bikes next to each other. For the first time we

all had a haggis burger, it was worth the wait. Not only the bikes but we were attracting

a lot of attention as well, a couple of guys said that they followed our channel and loved

what we did, so we did a quick interview with them.

We wanted to see the Falkirk Wheel, we had heard it was something else, that was forsure, basically it was a massive wheel with a canal barge loaded into part of the canal and

lowered down when another was lifted up, a marvel of engineering, very impressive I

must say. We had to wait ages for this to start, the one coming down was full of people just

on for the ride, they all looked very happy when they got off.

Next we wanted to pay our respects to the Founder of the Special Air Service, David

Stirling, there is a memorial to him and the other early SAS guys just outside Stirling, its

a bit like the monument at Speen Bridge to the Commandos. For us this was special as we

felt moved having spent eleven years in the Regiment. We laid a cross to the fallen we had

known personally.

Heading off again toward Inverness we had booked a hotel near Culloden Moor, were we

had a lovely evening relaxing after a beautifully cooked meal, sitting around an open fire

with a beer. Talk came round to the bikes and we all agreed how totally awesome they

were and although they were a small fortune we were very happy with them, they were

very comfortable easy to ride and ate up the miles. Fortunately we had cruse control as

most of the A9 was restricted to fifty miles an hour with average speed cameras its entire

length, great for fuel economey but painfully slow.

The following morning we woke to a misty dull grey day, after breakfast we set off for the

Culloden Moor site where the last of the Jacobite rebellion was put down by the Duke of

Cumberland thus making the English a force to be reckoned with. The Battle of Culloden

took place on 16th April 1746 between about 4500 men under Charles Edward Stuart

and a force of 9000 led by the Duke of Cumberland. They wouldn’t let us film inside the

museum but could anywhere else on the site. We showed where the English lines were and

the Jacobite lines, there where the stones to the Clans, a damp morning well spent.

The weather wasn’t all that, as we progressed to Dunrobin Castle where we parked up

for a couple of hours and had a look around, it was fairly busy but we took our time and

were able to make a good video with each of us starring in different parts of the castle. It

is a popular tourist spot, I think from cruise ships or tours as many coaches arrive and

departed all the time.

We had booked into the Bannockburn Inn in Helmsdale, it was a lovely quaint inn and

we were able to park the bikes in the garage round the back. We had another grand meal

that evening and talk of the following day when we would reach the furthest point north

on the trip, for up until now we only headed north, John O’Groats in the morning then to

Dannet Head the most northerly point on the British main land.

We woke early and had a traditional Scottish breakfast, as far as I could tell the only

difference was instead of black pudding we had haggis the rest was English. We set off

for John O’Groats only a couple of miles away the mist closed in, by the time we stopped

we couldn’t see much. We took the obligatory photo of the sign post and were slightly

underwhelmed, it was very commercialised.The next part was to get to Dannet Head, the mist had now turned to thick fog, we parked

the bikes and wandered over to the lighthouse, we almost bumped into it, the fog was so

thick. I think some of the footage from the bikes showed just how bad it was. Our next

port of call was over to Scouries Bay where we had booked an AirBNB next to the camp

site over looking the Bay. The fog had cleared and a lovely sunset was promised. We had

been recommended to have the fish and chips off the van on site, they cook theirs in beef

dripping, reputed to be the best in Scotland, pretty good I must say.

Next morning we were told to go to the Lochinver pie shop which is famous for their

pies, so we did, wow just wow, these pies are made on site and they are just something

else, really special, they even post them out all over the world. We had the venison and

cranberry, it was amazing, we also took away with us the haggis, neaps and tatties for later.

After those amazing pies we then went to the Arctic Convoy Exhibition Centre,

at Birchburn, this was a small museum but told all about the Arctic convoys and the

challenges they faced all throughout the war, finally these extremely brave men have been

recognised with the Arctic Convoy Medal, seventy years too late for some of them, all

very brave men and just how tough to endure the winters off the Russian north coast.

Our next challenging ride was over the tops of the mountains to Applecross in patchy

thick fog, most of the time barely getting out of first gear, we were happy when it cleared

lower down as the road down the side of the mountain would have been very dangerous

in the fog, we made it safely to our hotel for the night, well more of a hostel really.

Next morning when loading up the bikes before breakfast we were almost eaten alive, the

wee beasties had come out to play, now let me tell you these, they might be tiny but they

are savage, the Scottish midge is renowned and nothing will stop them not even ‘smidge

or skin so soft’. Our plan was after breakfast to dress and get everything on including

gloves and helmet run to the bikes leap on and scarper a bit sharpish, little buggars still

got a meal.

This was an important day, we rode to Mallaig then onto Speen Bridge to pay our respects

to the Commando Memorial before going onto Oban and the distillery for a wee dram

after the tour, it was closed, so we had a fairly long ride down to the Arrochar Hotel for

the night, next morning we rode past the Submarine Base at Faslane, the last time we were

there was before we got recalled to go to Macedonia, the peace camp is still there, by all

accounts they still try and get onto the base from time to time, keeps security on their

toes.

We thought we would go and find out what the World Famous Old Blacksmith Shop,

Gretna Green was all about, what a waist of time that was, when we arrived there were

about a dozen coaches and lots of cars in the car park, the place was heaving, it also cost a

few bob just to go in, we gave it a miss. We were so happy we got married in Sweden andHitchin, so much more dignified.

Now heading south we went to Ambelside to catch the ferry across lake Windermere

and onto Kendal where ‘Kendal Mint Cake’ comes from, it was closed so we headed

to Chester where we stopped with an old friend for the night. We had a lovely time

catching up and stopped another night, when we took them out and treated them to

dinner.

The following day we pressed on into Wales and stopped at Betws Y Coed for lunch

before heading further west to Aberystwyth and the Electric Cliff Railway, which we

took a ride on. Later that day we had booked into the Bear Inn in Crickhowell for the

night, the old landlord now retired remembered us from our honeymoon, he was still

there after all these years, we had a great catch up with him, he was such a nice bloke.

Next day we headed for home arriving in the middle of the afternoon, we washed the

bikes off and put them away in the bike shed, went and showered then changed and

came down to a wonderful dinner that Doris our cook had made for us. Wendy our

housekeeper had our rooms and beds all aired with clean sheets. We spent the evening

in the small living room just chatting away about our trip and made some notes for

Jimmy for when he started the editing. After a nightcap we had a relatively early night.

A special delivery turned up, we had found a company that made four life size

mannequins, one for each of us made to measure with our faces, hair and eye colour, we

dressed them in our best blues complete with medals, they stood in the corners of the

small dining room along with lots of other memorabilia we had collected over the years,

they added to the interest of the room.

We were up early next morning keen to get started finding the next project bikes, also

we had a couple of programmes to record plus a live show to do that evening. Tom,

Jimmy and Mary arrived at nine and we settled down to work after a wet and catchup.

That afternoon we went into the studio and recorded an episode at the desks talking

about the new bikes giving an in-depth review having ridden them some three thousand

miles, showing some of the photos we had taken, overall we were extremely impressed

with the bikes and were very pleased with the purchase.

That evening the live show was all about us and our lives, we had lot of comments,

questions and phone calls, for some reason people were fascinated about our lives

wanting to know more, one of the most popular questions was about our military careers,

where we won our Military Medals, what we got our MBEs for, how we met in the first

place. It was amazing we had several thousand people watching and commenting, it was

impossible for Tom, Jimmy and Mary to keep up. After the show we reviewed all the

comments in the chat, not a single negative comment, amazing, normally there would

be a troll or too but no, we did answer all the questions in the chat, it took ages.We were still in touch with lots of friends we had while serving with the SAS so invited

a bunch of them down for a weekend, lots of them had moved into the security sector,

some had got into the film and TV industry. We had a great time catching up, they were

impressed that we stayed in until we were fifty five. They loved what we had done with

‘The Old Manor House’, most of them were following our channel and love what we were

doing.

The following week after a very similar show about our lives answering many more

viewer questions, which again was enormous fun. The next day we all went to a classic

motorbike auction with the view to getting a couple of pre war project bikes to work on

and make a series on for the channel. So we jumped on the Multistrada’s and headed to

the auctions.

Well you know how auction fever takes hold, we ended up with four bikes instead of the

two we originally set out for, Vinka was the first to acquire a 1939 Rudge Ulster 500cc in

a tatty condition but complete. Johan couldn’t help himself and came away with a Ex War

Department BSA B31 which was in North Africa during the war, I think it still had some

of the desert sand on it. With our two purchases secured we thought we would watch

the rest of the auction, big mistake. Before she realised Marlin was bidding on a 1938

Triumph Speed Twin 500cc, the hammer went down and it was hers.

As we were about to leave the auction room this 1926 Model 25 Norton came up, too late

before I knew what had happened it was mine. We headed out to the cashier and paid

our dues and sorted out the paperwork and agreed to return the next day to pick up our

new acquisitions. On the way home we discussed how we would film the restorations.

Next day we returned with the van and trailer and picked up the bikes. Back in the

workshop after unloading them we put them all on our individual bike tables then sorted

out the filming schedule with Tom and Jimmy, once we worked out what actually needed

to be done on each bike, many notes were taken.

A letter arrived one day from their old translation company in Sweden with an invite to

the Royal Opening of the Harry Potter Studio experience at Leavesdon, it had opened

the previous year to the public but this was the official opening. The invites were also for

a plus one, there was also a special invite to a private reception to meet J K Rowling in

person along with the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and Prince Harry.

Of course the girls were over the moon, so on that day in April we booked into a hotel

in Watford the day before so we could arrive early. Johan and I were in our best suits

while Vinka and Marlin in gorgeous new dresses, off we went after breakfast. We were

introduced to JK who was lovely and the girls had a long chat about the fact they had

done the translations on all seven books, JK thanked them very much.

We were also presented to William and Kate. Kate is stunning and with the three girlstogether, wow, weren’t we the lucky boys, we had a great conversation with them, Harry

came and joined us as well, we had been in Afghan at the same time as Harry, so had a

quick chat about that.

We then had a tour around the experience, the Great Hall was amazing, by all accounts

they have dinner nights in here on occasion, as we went through the rest of the experience

we were impressed with the level of detail in all the other sets and finally ended up in

the cafe area were they had a small reception with nibbles and Butter Beer. All in all and

after our studio tour we had a brilliant day, we even had professional photos taken with

JK and the Royal’s as a momento.

A couple of days later we had an open pit lane track day planned for Brands Hatch and

were going to take the four Ducati’s for the day, we had to go through the same ritual

each time to see who was going to ride the big bikes first, some how it always worked

out that girls won, I suspect a little cheating might have come into play. So Vinka had

the first ride on the new 1199R with Marlin on the 1098S while Johan had the new 899S

and I had the 749R.

We stopped after the first twenty laps as normal for a chat and a wet before going out

again, Vinka was dripping with sweat and the biggest ever smile on her face, she said

that the 11 9 9R was totally awesome but was real hard work, a proper riders bike, a bit

of a handful even. Johan on the other hand said that the 8 9 9S was an absolute joy to

ride and needed little effort from the rider to enjoy it.

We swapped bikes and went out for the next twenty laps, this time Marlin came in

sweating profusely raving about the 11 9 9R, she said the harder you push it the better it

is, I couldn’t wait to have a go, we still had time for another forty laps before lunch but

had to put new tyres on first, so we swapped round and I jumped onto the 11 9 9R and

out we went onto the track again, after a couple of laps to warm the tyres I gave it some

beans, wow I was hanging off it on every corner getting my knees down, working my

socks off.

Pulling into the pits I was dripping, the girls were right you really had to work hard to

get the best out of the 11 9 9R but what a machine, a quick swap round and out for the

last twenty laps before lunch. Over lunch we had to do a few tyre changes again on the

two R bikes, fortunately we have spare wheels and tyres already made up so it just a case

to change the wheels over.

After a terrific afternoon session we packed up and headed for home, the talk was all

about the 11 9 9R, we talked about maybe getting our ACU race licences and the pros

and cons, we thought it needed a bit of research and did we really want to race, on

track days you are mixing it up with lots of other bikes out on the track, but racing is

something else.

We decided to go to the next British Super Bike races at Silverstone to see what a raceweekend was all about. We brought tickets for the paddock and pit lane for the Friday,

Saturday and Sunday and booked into a hotel in Northampton for the three days. We also

took a few cameras with us, the idea being that we would interview some of the riders and

team members and make a film of it.

Friday turned out to be the best day for this as things were a little more relaxed, the

Saturday and Sunday were a little more busy particularly Race day on the Sunday. We had

a great weekend did lots of interviews we came to the conclusion that although we loved

the vibe of the weekend we would definitely come again but as for us racing, no we are

very happy doing track days, besides we are all getting on a bit.

Over the next couple of months we worked on the new bikes, as with all the restoration

projects, we plan on keeping them for our pleasure so we do a complete strip down and a

total rebuild to as near concourse condition as we can, then ride them and show them off.

Our bike collection was growing all the time, we may run out of space.

We had an invite from a friend who was having a top table dinner on HMS Victory in

the Senior Rates Mess onboard, he said for us to ware our old mess kit with our veterans

badge pinned to the lapel just under our medals. We got Tom to drop us off at the Gosport

ferry, and entered the dock yard through Victory gate where we were escorted to the ship,

we boarded and went up to the poop deck for a welcome drink and photos. Its such an

honour to be invited on HMS Victory.

Entering the mess we found our seats and after grace we had the starter of smoked salmon

and prawn’s, next we had a lamb shank and mash followed by fresh fruit and cream,

finishing with cheese and biscuits and coffee. Then the port, toasts and speeches. We had

a wonderful evening, we caught the last ferry back across to Gosport and Tom picked us

up. The next Friday lunch time we were invited back onboard for the meat raffle, we all

brought a fiver’s worth of tickets, Vinka won a leg of lamb, Marlin a pork joint, Johan a

fiver on the football card and me nothing, it was a lot of fun.

In between filming the restoration projects we carried on doing the live shows and were

planning our next great adventure, having spent a long weekend at the Adventure Bike

Riders Festival in Warwickshire which gave us some great ideas as well as having a great

time, talking to other bikers, going to the talks and listening to some brilliant boot leg

bands. Lots of people came up to us a told us they followed our channel.

Our next great adventure would takes us some four thousand miles across Europe, again

this was going to be a ‘Riding Through History Tour’ filmed all the way round. Packing

the bikes and knowing what to take we had got it down to a fine art, we had top loading

panniers, one for clothes the other for camera equipment and an empty top box to put our

helmets in to save carrying them about.

The ferry was booked from Portsmouth to Cherbourg on the overnight, thus giving a fullfirst day to explore the Normandy Beaches and to get the first of the filming done. We

went to Saint Mer Eglese and filmed around there for the morning, where one of us would

do the piece to camera about different bits of the battle, or it would be two of us talking

about it while the other two would film from different angles, this worked great, so we did

it everywhere, it made for a very interesting video.

After the Airborne Forces museum we spent the next couple of days filming Sword, Juno,

Utah, Omaha and Gold beaches, and the battle for Carrentan, then had tea in the cafe at

Pegasus Bridge and were very privileged to have the old lady, Arlette Gondrée sit with us,

she had been six years old when the liberation happened that night on the sixth of June

1944. Afterwards we went to the museum across the bridge and had free admission as we

were veterans.

Having spent three days in Normandy we moved onto Compigne to where the Armistice

had been signed, but got there too late in the day so found a nice hotel for the night then

went back in the morning spending a couple of hours there again using our new filming

techniques.

The afternoon we rode across country to Stavelot and booked into a little hotel for the

night and had a lovely meal, next morning we went to the Spa Circuit museum for a

tour, unfortunately they wouldn’t let us ride round the circuit so we packed up and rode

over to Malmedy and filmed where the massacre took place, the SS murdered eighty-four

American POWs in cold blood. There is a lovely memorial to sit reflect and remember

them.

Then we rode down to the 101st Airborne museum in Bastogne and spent a couple hours

filming there, it was fascinating and depicted the siege of Bastgone brilliantly, they also

have a large collection of artefacts from the war, there is a great picture of Hitler stood

outside the museum building in 1940.

Riding south to Luxembourg we found a smashing hotel for the night and had another

lovely meal, we ordered an early breakfast and got on the road just after seven as we

wanted to get down to Switzerland and ride at least one of the two passes that day.

Stopping in Colmar for an early lunch we then headed off for the Grimsel Pass, what a

fantastic road, we took lots of pictures and video, what had made a massive difference was

our new headsets where we could talk to each other all the time, this made filming and

getting in the right place for the right shots, a real game changer.

By early evening we had arrived at the bottom of Lake Como and a very nice hotel with

brilliant wifi, so we were able to do our regular live stream from here, with the crew back

home monitoring the chat they were able to respond, after we up loaded our video so far.

The next day we were all excited as we were going to the Ducati factory in Bologna,arriving mid afternoon, they were expecting us and were met by one of the main managers

who hosted us for the rest of the day and into the evening when he took us out for dinner.

We had a VIP tour of the factory, unfortunately we weren’t aloud to film but had free access

to film as much as we wanted in the museum.

He dropped us off at our hotel and said he would have someone collect us in the morning

after breakfast, which they would take us back to the factory to collect our bikes, but not

before us joining him for coffee, after that we rode off to the Dolomites and to a little town

where we had been skiing a couple of years before.

Corvara in Badia is nestled in the northern part of the Sella Ronda, we had arranged to

stay at the same hotel we had before, the Predat, a family run small hotel with spectacular

views and food to match, we had two nights there for a rest from riding. It was good to do

a bit of admin and wash some clothes and relax for a couple of days, besides they have a

sauna and hot tub which we made full use of.

Having rested for a couple of days we left saying we would come back to ski that winter

and confirmed the booking. Innsbruke was our next stop then onto ride the Gross Glokner

for the afternoon, what a awesome riding road, loads of video and pictures. Early evening

found us in Munich for a couple of days filming.

We had the opportunity to upload a ton of video so Jimmy could start the editing of the

trip so far, iCloud is a great thing. Obviously we had to visit the HofBruhus, rude not too.

We again had lots prepared for filming in Munich, quite a lot had changed since Johan and

I were sixteen year old boys. When we were with NATO we didn’t get the chance to see

much of the city, we made up for it this time.

We spent the day visiting all the sites where the Nazi Party had it’s headquarters during the

1930’s and 40’s. We went to the The Feldherrnhalle, also known as Field Marshal’s Hall. We

visited the Königsplatz, Odeonsplatz and Old Town Hall all of which had been important

landmarks for the Nazi Party. These were the places Johan and I visited as boys all those

years ago, much had changed, there were some new buildings.

Dachau Concentration Camp is a few miles to the west of Munich and well worth the visit,

we spent a good few hours walking around there filming, it was horrific some of the things

that the Nazi’s did to people, it was preserved as a reminder not to be repeted ever again.

After leaving there we went north to Nuremberg to see the Courts of Justice and the War

Crimes Courts, then booked into a hotel for the night.

Colditz Castle has always been a dream to visit, recently they had turned it into a Youth

Hostel which is on the Commandant side of the Castle, we were put into a dormitory with

four bunk beds, there was a toilet and shower on the right as you entre the room, it also

had a table and four chairs, all very basic but clean and tidy.Down stairs on the ground floor was a large cookhouse with a servery and lots of tables, you

are expected to clear away your own plates after your meal, there was a group of German

teenagers there on a school trip, we had some interesting conversations over breakfast with

some of them. They told us it was all part of their history lessons.

We had the full three hour guided tour of the Castle showing all the escape routes of which

there were many, the prisoners were very inventive in the different way they found to dig

tunnels and find routes out of the castle. The Glider which had been reconstructed was

located on the floor below the actual one where the original glider was built.

Finally the museum, what a great experience we had, well worth the time to visit, it didn’t

disappoint, we let our minds run riot and imagined what it was like back in the war. Its

surprising the place is still standing with all the things the prisoners did to undermine the

buildings, we left there after lunch.

We then turned south east and headed to Pilzen and the Patten Memorial museum, on

the 8th of May 1945 General Patten liberated Pilzen and the town celebrates this every

year. The curator of the museum allowed us to film so we offered him our footage for a

documentary for the museum after we edited it, he thanked us in advance. He told us that

every May the entire town celebrates over a full week the liberation, unfortunately we

missed it this year.

After here we arrived outside of Prague in a little place called Lidice where again the SS

massacred hundreds of people and raised the town to the ground, very sad, the Germans

even filmed themselves doing it, horrific. Similar to a Common Wealth War Grave site

where the grounds are kept imaculate, the museum also has photos of all who were murderd

there. While we were there a large school group were visiting as part of their history lesson.

Heading away we then found a nice hotel in Prague with an underground garage to park

the bikes in, then went looking for the spot where a group of SOE agents assassinated

Reinhard Heydrich the commander of the German Reich Security office, he was the

principal architect of the Holocaust. Unfortunately the corner where it happened didn’t

look like it, we think it has changed a lot since the war.

The code name was Operation Anthropoid and was carried out on the 27th May 1942 by

Jozef Gabcik and Jan Kubis two Czech resistance guys, Heydrich was only wounded in the

attack but died of his injuries on the 4th of June. The Germans ordered reprisals this was

when they carried out the massacre at the town of Lidice, they also killed the assassins in

a firefight at St Cyril and Methodis Cathedral.

We did find the Cathedral where the SOE agents were holed up in before they were

discovered or given away, anyhow that is still there you can still see some bullet holes inthe walls, a plaque to the agents and a list of information on them can be seen inside.

As part of the reprisals the Germans arrested the Bishop and priests then executed them,

an estimate of around thirteen thousand people were arrested and interrogated with about

five thousand murdered, this along with the villages of Lidice and Lezaky distroyed and

many people executed, the next day we moved on.

The bikes were just awesome and behaving themselves impeccably, next stop Zangan in

Poland and Stalag Luft 3. Johan and I had wanted to visit here since we were little boys in

Mr Forbes class in junior school when we read the books, of which I still have my original

copies tucked away in the new study back home.

We found this lovely hotel not far away and booked in for two nights as we wanted to

spend a full day at Stalag Luft 3, it didn’t disappoint. There is a museum there and a replica

of hut 104 that a bunch of Royal Engineers built a few years back. Having spent a couple

of hours in the museum we went and explored the area of where the camp had stood, its

now a forest but we did find the tunnel Harry, they have done a great job marking out the

exact position on the ground where the tunnel was. We spent quite a bit of time filming

here, to think that seventy six men escaped from here was amazing, especially seeing it

was thirty feet short of the woods.

We then went and found the spot where the Wooden Horse escaped from, we got a real

tingle here as we paced out the line of the tunnel, how it was never found before the escape

I guess we will never know, there is a board showing the details of the escape also detailing

the film with Eric Williams one of the escapers with the actors. Eric Williams was an

adviser on the film. Exploring the rest of the area we found the theatre or the foundations

for it along with many other foundations in the forest.

Lastly to finish the day off we visited the memorial to the Fifty that the prisoners had built

to honour them, on the other side of the track there was another cemetery to the Czech

and Russian prisoners of there were many that died during the war at the camp. It was

amazing just how large the camp area covered certainly a few square miles, we certainely

walked some distance that day.

Back in the hotel that evening we were able to do another live show which was a lot of fun

with many people commenting and asking questions, we were gaining subscribers all the

time, I think because we were posting great videos which was down to Tom, Jimmy and

Mary with their professional editing skills, I also think that our front of camera presents

had something to with it as well, the fact that we were having such a great time enjoying

ourselves too came across to the viewer.

Next morning we packed the bikes after breakfast and headed east towards Katovice then

onto Auschwitz and the concentration camps, this was a very moving day for all of us,the main camp where you see the railway tracks leading into the camp under the arch,

this was chilling at just the shear size of the place. We walked to the far end to where the

furnaces were, you just can’t imagine the horrors that took place here.

But over in the work camp really brought home the true horrors and scale when you walk

into the warehouses piled high with glasses, personal belongings, children’s shoes, human

hair, it was truly heartbreaking and upsetting, it didn’t feel right to film there, so we just

left it without saying anything. We did mention that we had been there on the next live

and left it at that.

We found a small hotel just outside Krakow for the night before heading to Berlin which

took us all of the next day, we checked in to the Maritime pro Arte Hotel, on Friedrichstraße

and parked the bikes in the underground car park and settled into our rooms, we changed

then met in the bar, it was already eight in the evening, we stayed in and had dinner in

the restaurant. We had booked in for three nights so had plenty of time to explore the city.

We had an early night and early breakfast next morning for a full day of filming around all

the historical sites from the second world war and the Cold war, our research had paid off

as we had a clear plan on everywhere we wanted to film. Our iPads are brilliant for notes

and can even double up as an Autocue when doing a piece to camera with some tricky

facts to get across.

The area from the Victory Column to the Brandenburg gate hadn’t changed that much

but beyond that and the area around the Riechstag was totally transformed and nothing

like back when we were there so many years before, what was East Berlin had gone under

massive reconstruction, it was no longer gray but bright and colourful just like West Berlin.

Walking away from the Brandengurg gate past the American Embassy to the Memorial

to the Murdered Jews of Europe was strange looking with two thousand seven hundred

blocks of different sizes laid out in a grid system. Not far away was The Führerbunke, not

much to see. Moving onto the Topography of Terror shows the SS and police in the Third

Reich and the crimes they committed across Europe, there is a time line wall showing

some of the horrors that were commited.

Checkpoint Charlie was a little disappointing, it was so commercialised and had changed

a lot from what it was, we also visited the Soviet war memorials around Berlin, we spent

half a day at the zoo, we visited many other places and had an amazing time.

Another night was needed to put the final finishes to our filming programme, it also gave

us the opportunity to upload a mass of videos for Tom, Jimmy and Mary to get on with

editing, we also did another live show, our audience is growing all the time, which is and

isn’t a good thing, the trouble is the more people on the live comments the harder it is to

respond to them all, still a good problem to have.Riding out to Kladow to where Montgomery Barracks was and our old quarters were, was

a real trip down memory lane, there is a German unit there now and they let us in to have

a look around, nothing much had changed apart from the trees had grown taller, we then

popped round to our old quarters and knocked on the doors, the people living there now

were lovely and let us in for a look around, apart from their stuff and the decoration not

much had changed.

Leaving Berlin after a brilliant stay we headed west to Cella and booked into the Cella Hof

for two nights, we were able to park the bikes round the back out of site. We planed to do

quite a bit of videoing in and around the town. Because Cella hadn’t been touched during

the war all the old buildings are still standing and the old town was especially quaint.

Stopping at what was Trenchard Barracks was a little disheartening to see that it had been

left unused since the Army pulled out of Germany, it was in a sorry state.

We headed to Stalag XB just north of Bremen, this is where the Germans kept most of the

Royal and Merchant Navy prisoners during the war, there is a great little museum there and

lot of the original buildings were still standing although some were in a dangerous state

of near collapse. This was essentially a labour camp with some three hundred thousand

prisoners held here and sent out on work parties, many died and were buried in a cemetery

just down the road where there is a monumental park to them.

There was a large Polish population of workers buried there, apparently many of the bodies

were exhumed and repatriated back to Poland and reburied. There was a few mass graves

of Russians buried there with a monument to those as well, all very moving and peaceful

it was well cared for.

Arriving in Munster the next day after stopping in a hotel in Osnabruck, we knocked on the

door of the family Johan and I had an exchange with when we were at school, the parents

of Axel and Henric still lived there and invited us in. Axel was married and was a doctor

that worked in what was the British Military hospital now under German ownership, they

called him and he would come round after his shift.

Henric became a teacher and worked in a near by school, also married and was going to

call round when school finished for the day. We were offered lunch and asked if we would

like to stay the night where we could all get together and enjoy a meal, it would have been

rude to refuse, we had a wonderful evening to catch up, they were still brilliant hosts.

They told us of their lives after they left school and all about their careers, they said they

had followed England Rugby since we introduced them to rugby back in Hitchin all those

years ago. We told them all about our lives after school about joining the Royal Marines

and us getting married and everything we had done and brought them up to date and

where we are now, we also gave them an invitation to come to ‘The Old Manor House’ for

a few days with their families.After breakfast we thanked them and then we rode to Arnham to visit the Airborne Forces

museum at Oosterbeek, it has changed over the years, now it is much better laid out and

easer to walk around. We all had parts to play on the video we made here. We later went

out to the landing fields and showed the drop zones in greater detail.

That afternoon we rode across the John Frost bridge and followed the route taken by 30

Corps in reverse down through Nijmegan and onto Eindhoven for the night in a lovely

quaint hotel, the owner joined us after dinner as we sat in the bar, a most congenial evening.

The beds and rooms were the most comfortable we had on the whole trip.

After a lovely breakfast we bid our fair well to the owner and headed for the Channel

Tunnel and home in time to do our live show that evening. Next morning we cleaned

the bikes and serviced them before putting them away. We spent several days with Tom,

Jimmy and Mary going through all the videos of the trip and put the final polish before

uploading them to YouTube for release over the coming months.

With all the editing done and uploaded we went back to finish off the bike restorations, as

all the bits that had been sent away to be refurbished by specialists had arrived back, it was

now a case for the rebuild. We had all four bikes completed within a couple of weeks and

were ready to take them out for a ride.

On a nice sunny Wednesday we rolled all four bikes out and with me in the lead on the

Norton Model 25 as I was the slowest, Johan on his Army B31 followed me with Vinka on

her Rudge and Marlin on the Speed Twin bringing up the rear. We arrived at Loomies Cafe

on the A32 A272 junction and reverse parked in a row against the cafe with enough space

between each bike so people could get a good look at them while we ordered coffee.

Standing outside drinking our coffee loads of people came over to ask questions and

admire the bikes, they were in concourse condition and we were very pleased at how the

restorations had gone and how well they all ran. Someone said to me about the Model 25

and why didn’t I do the London to Brighton on it. We had a long chat about it and what was

involved. Later I said to the others lets get another three vintage bikes and all do it.

We found out when the next auction was and went along in the van, we wanted anything

pre nineteen thirty that would make a great restoration project then do the next London

to Brighton rally. We spent a little more than we had planned but come up with three

cracking bikes. Vinka bid on a 1930 Douglas T6, Marlin bid on a 1930 Norton CS1 and

Johan had the winning bid on a lovely 1929 AJS 250cc.

The plan as always was to do a complete restoration on them so we knew that everything

was as good as it could be and hopefully not breakdown the first time we went anywhere.

We sat down with Tom and worked out the filming schedule and set to work stripping

them down completely and sending off what needed to be shot blasted, welding, powdercoated, painted or polished. What we did was to rebuild all the engines and convert the old

magnetos to electronic ignition and completely rewire them but tried to keep the original

look.

To speed things along we all helped each other out while filming at the same time, within

a few short weeks working on them every day we had them all completed in time for the

London to Brighton rally, we did do a test ride out first to Loomies and back. We managed

to get all four bikes into the back of the van, so the idea was for Tom to drive us into London

and Jimmy and Mary to take the car and stop off and video us passing different points on

the way.

We were dropped off a little way from Clapham Common and Tom left us, we made our

way to the registration and start line, we thought it was a good idea at the time to dress in

period costume, this being early November I’m not sure it was all that clever, it was a very

cold run all the way to Brighton seafront. Anyway the bikes made it without any issues or

breakdowns, a result.

We had all the spots for filming identified before hand and between all of us we managed

to get a fantastic film put together of the whole trip, it took longer to get to Brighton as we

had to keep stopping for Mary and Jimmy to pass us to the next place but the end result was

so worth it.

The house was always busy, we loved entertaining and having dinner parties for friends

and family to stop over. The people we invited were asked to dress for dinner just to make

it extra special. We came up with the idea of holding a Garden Party just like the ones at

Buckingham Palace and to show off our bike collection. Everyone we invited were motorbike

fans, it was funny how some of them looked slightly out of place in Mourning suits, then

dinner suits in the evening, but they had a wonderful time anyway.

One very memorable evening we had invited now General Bruce and his wife and some of the

old Psyops gang down for the weekend for a catch up and have a dinner with some excellent

wine, then down into the Salamanca Club for an evening of dancing. After breakfast on

Sunday morning we gave a tour of all the bikes in the bike shed. After a wonderful Sunday

lunch cooked by Doris everyone thanked us for the invite and marvellous weekend, I think

we all had a great time.

We hadn’t been out on the boat for a while so decided to have a few weeks away but before

we left we got Hornet to lift and wash her off, there had been a lot of weed growth under the

water line even though she was copper coated.

Provisioning her for a few weeks we left on a favourable tide and the wind from the east,

set the sails for a down wind run all the way to the Scillies which took us just over thirty

two hours of exceptional conditions without any issues at all, in fact it was uneventful, after

lowing the sails for the first time since leaving Gosport we turned into Porth Cressa and set

the anchor. This was all well and good but didn’t make for an interesting film.After we sorted ourselves out and put Salamanca to bed we hopped into the dinghy and

rowed ashore then lifted it up on the beach and had a wander into the town, we eventually

found our way to the Mermaid Inn and decided to have dinner there rather than cook that

night. The weather was perfect, by the time we got back onboard the sun was just setting

to the west and the moon was full giving a very bright night.

Next morning we weighed anchor and motored across to St Agnas Cove and dropped the

hook, then went ashore for a wander around the Island, we brought some fresh veg from

an honesty box then went for a pint or two in the Turks Head, reputed to be the last pub in

England before you get to America. We spent the evening on deck relaxing and watching

another amazing sunset.

We planned out a few track days and ordered two brand new Ducati V4S Panagale’s to go

with the 10 9 8 and 11 9 9, why is it always the girls get to use the new bikes first, anyway

Silverstone was booked.

Pro Twins were brilliant in getting the bikes ready for us, they took off the regular road

farings and put race fairings on for us and boxed up the original fairings if we wanted to

put them back to road bikes, we also had two extra sets of wheels with slick tyres but kept

the original tyres on to start with just in case it rained.

We hadn’t taken the RGs, MVs or Manx’s out for a long time so booked to take them to

Donnington Park for an open pit lane day, we preferred open pit lanes to focused events

where you only get twenty minute sessions. There was another open pit lane day at Oulton

Park a couple of days after Donnington, so we booked that as well and planned to stop in

a hotel near by.

A couple of weeks later Snetterton had an open pit lane day which would be ideal for the

Ducati’s, so booked that too. Of course Tom, Jimmy and Mary came along in the car with

all the camera kit to capture us riding around, having comms between us made it so much

easier to organise the right shots from both the bikes and track side. We fitted each bike

with two cameras that could be placed in a few different positions for different shots plus

we all had helmet cameras and with the three track side cameras we were able to get some

terrific footage all in 4k and the end result looked very professional.

Because we all loved live theatre in the west end, we booked to go and see a few shows and

stop in the Special Forces Club. The price for going to the theatre nowadays is starting to

get very expensive but it was worth it, especially if we went onto a posh night club after.

So we had these plans and we focused next on what we would do this Christmas, although

it was a way off we would like to have our families come to us, our kids and grand kids and

our parents, so we would end up with a full house.The forecast was for some bad weather coming in from the west so we lifted the hook and

sailed over to Old Grimsby harbour and set the anchor and waited for the weather to pass,

it took two days but we had plenty of things to keep us occupied.

After the weather cleared through we went ashore to get a leg stretch and enjoy Tresco. We

have never actually stopped on St Martins so we managed to sail around to the eastern side

and dropped the hook then took the dinghy ashore for a wander about, we had heard that

Adams Fish and Chip shop was worth the visit after having a tour of the Vineyard, we had

just got to the SC Distillery as it was about to close so we decided to return in the morning

for the tour and tasting.

As there was going to be a clear sky that night we had supper then went ashore again as we

had booked into the Cosmos Observatory that evening, the stars were out of this world and

so any of them, a bit like being in the desert or Afghan, it was very late when we rowed back

to Salamanca, we had a nightcap and went to bed.

Next morning after a peaceful night we rowed ashore after breakfast to visit the SC Distillery

where they have so many rums, vodka and brandy’s all distilled, aged and bottled on site,

then shipped world wide, it was fascinating, we even brought a few bottles of their rum’s to

take with us. That afternoon we sailed round to New Grimsby harbour passing King Charles

Castle on the way in then picked up a buoy as it is a little tight to drop anchor.

Next day we took the dinghy across to Bryher and wandered up to Fraggle Rock and had

a cup of coffee in the cafe, after returning to the boat we slipped the buoy and sailed down

to St Mary’s bay and picked up another buoy for the night, the weather was looking perfect

to head across the channel, so just before dawn we slipped the buoy put the sails up and

rounded the corner and set course south.

With some great weather we sail to the Channel Islands, a day later we arrived in St Peters

Port on Guernsey for a couple of days, we visited the TA centre where we ran an exercise

some years before and caught up with the staff there. Next we sailed to Jersey having first

contacted the Governor to see if we could use his berth in Elizabeth marina, the message

came back yes and come to dinner.

We had a wonderful few days there, General John had invited us to dinner in the Governors

Residents and we in return took him and his good lady out for a day sail and dinner onboard,

we had a great catch up and they had a break from their normal routine.

Sailing direct from there back to Plymouth with our planning just right to get through

the Aldenery races we crossed the channel in near perfect conditions and back through

Plymouth Sound and onto a berth in no time.

An old friend of ours was having a top table dining out at Stonehouse Barracks Sergeants

mess, fortunately we had our old mess kit onboard complete with veterans badge so we

were able to join in the evening, we had booked a berth in King Point marina, dressed andwalked to the barracks for a brilliant night, the mess had done him proud, he received a

wonderful gift of a statue of the Commando Memorial at Speen Bridge. A couple of weeks

later he came to ours for the weekend with his wife before heading off to Australia and

retirement.

With a favourable weather forecast for the next couple of days, we slipped and headed for

home. Twenty-six hours later we were alongside our berth in Dolphin Pool, after washing

the boat down and cleaning her from top to bottom we made our way home to ‘The Old

Manor House’ having had a great couple of weeks.

Tom, Jimmy and Mary had been working extremely hard editing a ton of videos, so we had

a day reviewing them and posting them to go out over the next few months, there was the

restoration projects, the London to Brighton rally, and now some sailing videos of the trip

to the Scillies and Channel Islands, all in all some great work.

We had been invited by The Commodore of Hornet Sailing Club to attend the official

opening of the Hornet Services Sailing Club being opened by the new Patron, Her Royal

Highness The Princess Royal, Princess Anne, what an honour. As we stood together in the

main dining room come reception area for the day, wearing blazers and ties and Vinka

and Marlin in new dresses, she saw us and came over and without being introduced by the

Commodore, she said hello to us and asked if we were members.

There were a few gasps around the room and we proceeded to have a chat saying that we

had been invited to join the club now it was becoming joint services, she asked if we had a

boat, so we said we had just completed the Atlantic Circuit in our Hallberg Rassy, she said

she was envious, we gave her an open invitation anytime to sail with us. There was some

low mumblings around the room. She continued her tour of smelling new paint. Later we

said she was an old friend, and laughed. We are still not sure if we fit in!

That evening we did a live show from the couches and made it very relaxed where we just

had a chat about the sailing trip and the up coming video releases on the bike projects and

announced that the London to Brighton rally would drop right after the show. We had a

surprise in the post next day, we received a plaque from YouTube with a note saying we had

hit one hundred thousand subscribers.

A call from Pro Twins telling us our new bikes were ready to be collected, so all excited

we jumped into the van and went off to Godstone to pick them up. We loaded them in the

back of the van and only just managed to get all the rest of the spares in, it was the original

fairings in boxes that took up a lot of space.

The following week we were off to Silverstone with just the four big Ducati’s, two on the

trailer and the new ones in the back of the van, to say we were excited was an understatement.

We set off really early and arrived before the track opened, as Jack’s Hill was closed we had

to settle for a MacDonald’s breakfast, not ideal but it was the nearest.We were allocated a garage and unloaded the bikes and got changed into our leathers before

the briefing and scrutineering, all the bikes passed the sound checks and now we were ready

for the first session, we sat in pit lane waiting for the green light to venture out on track,

we had taken off all the tyre warmers off just before hand, so we were ready, the green light

came on.

The first few laps we all rode together to get a few sighting laps of the circuit just to finish

warming the tyres up, the guys were strategically placed around the track with great views,

we all had cameras rolling and were communicating with each other. This first session was

for the girls to get use to the new bikes with all their two hundred and forty horse power.

Johan and I followed them on the older bikes until about the eighth lap when they had the

feel for the new bikes, well I was on the 10 9 8 which is no slouch however when they came

round onto the start finish straight they left me as if I was parked in the garage, Johan didn’t

fair much better as he was crossing the start line they were round the first corner and away,

they lapped me on lap seventeen and Johan on lap nineteen, they were waiting for us in the

pits.

They were absolutely buzzing and said they were so well balanced and precise in where they

could put the bikes, nailing every apex and getting drive out of every corner, Johan and I

couldn’t wait for our turn but that had to wait until after the next session, we swapped over

and I jumped onto the 11 9 9 and Johan on the 10 9 8, and we set off again this time we led

the way out of the pits, after a couple of warm up laps the girls flew passed us, Johan had no

chance, try as I might I just couldn’t catch them.

Having been lapped we went into the pits and very reluctantly the girls got off the new bikes

and it was now Johan and my turn to lap the girls. Unfortunately with us all split up apart

from the first couple of warm up laps the guys weren’t able to get much of the four of us, but

some great shots of the two new bikes battling away.

The chat over lunch was all about the two new bikes, then someone said why don’t we get

two more, well before we had finished lunch Pro Twins had a order for two more V4S

Panagale’s, hopefully delivered before Snetterton. We had an awesome day and were very

excited for when we would go to Snetterton, but before that we have two track days with the

old classics.

Pro Twins called next morning and said that they couldn’t get the V4S but could get two

V4Rs only they wouldn’t have road fairings as they are full on race bikes with a little more

horse power and a bit more money, we didn’t have an issue with that and told them to go

ahead and order the V4Rs.

Over the next couple of days we serviced the RGs, MVs and Manx’s put new tyres on all six

bikes and loaded them onto the van, checked out all of the camera equipment, booked thehotels for all of us and we were ready for another great few days away riding new tracks.

We had great fun riding the old classics on a couple of new tracks to us. While at Oulton

Park we had a call from Pro Twins telling us the new bikes were ready to collect.

Two days later having arrived home and put the classics back in the bike shed all cleaned

and shiny again, we jumped into the van and drove to Godstone to pickup the new bikes,

looks wise there didn’t seem a lot of difference, however there was quite a bit more power

to these from the S version. We couldn’t wait to get to Snetterton the following week to

see the difference ourselves.

That weekend we had guests over for a party, most arrived for lunch on Saturday and the

rest during the afternoon, the plan was we would be in the ‘The Salamanca Club’ and had

it decked out like a posh night club, we would have a buffet at seven then dance the night

away, it was so much fun with great company.

We had a leisurely brunch as most people had a lay in. After that we just love showing

people around the bike shed, we had by now a lot of bikes, so many that we were nearly

running out of space, we may need to start putting some in the garage across the courtyard.

When everyone had left we decided to have a sauna followed by lounging around in the

hot tub for a couple of hours.

We drove up to Snetterton on the Monday afternoon and booked into a hotel close by for

two nights, that evening after dinner the seven of us went over the plan for the next day

and had a look at the track layout and where the best places were to place the cameras on

the track side, then we drew lots for who would ride which bike, strange thing Johan and

I drew the short straw, again.

After an early breakfast we drove to the track and booked in, were allocated a garage and

unloaded the bikes, changed into our leathers then took the bikes to scrutineering and

sound checks, all good, with the tyre warmers on we went off to the briefing.

With five minutes to go before the green light the tyre warmers were off and we headed

out of the garage and down pit lane to be the first out. Green light on and we were off on

a couple of warm up sighting laps, the girls said they could feel a difference with the new

bikes. We decided to stay all together for this first twenty laps to make good use of the

light and get in the right place for the track side cameras.

By lap ten we were all going for it and getting the feel for the track and the bikes, the Rs

were quicker on the long straight but Johan and I were just able to hang on to them in

the corners. As a team we never got silly riding on the track and always stayed within our

limits, very rarely did we have moments, having seen lots of people come a cropper we

kept our heads, even when racing each other.

Johan and I changed onto the V4Rs and the extra horse power does make a differenceand I would guess in a race they would come out on top, anyway all four of the V4s were so

much fun we didn’t want to stop at the end of the day. We are happy we stopped the second

night in the hotel as driving home would have been a challenge.

On the way home the conversation was all about the two V4Rs and I think it was Vinka

suggested why didn’t we get another two V4Rs then have one each which would be so

much more fun, we made a call to Pro Twins on the way and ordered another two, the

next question is what did we do with the two V4Ss, trade them back in was the answer. We

thought it a good idea to order another box trailer and another new Mercedes high top long

wheel base van to match the other new ones and get rid of the old van, the old trailer might

come in useful so we would keep it.

Because we had plain race fairings we got Mary to design some graphics for them and each

one slightly different with our names on so we could identify our own bike, we also had new

leathers and helmets to match the bikes, we did look pretty awesome, we even did a photo

shoot and had large prints done to put up on the wall in the bike shed, this gave us an idea to

get a load of pictures of us and put them up in the bike shed riding all our different bikes, we

already had an interest walls in the small sitting room of all our military days, made sense

to do the same in the bike shed.

Back home and having had all the footage edited it made for an excellent video, we even

used a few clips in our live show to promote the upcoming releases. As we were getting into

autumn our attention turned to Christmas and into the new year, we had been invited to

take part in the British Telemark Championships in PLV in France in January, so paid our

deposits and booked our ferry’s, we were all still very fit as we trained a few times a week.

It was about time we had a new car and liked the new 4 litre X Drive X5 BMW, so popped

over to the BMW dealer took one out for a test drive and once we had all driven it, it was

a unanimous yes from us, choosing the colour proved to be a bit of a compromise but we

ended up with a dark blue with black leather interior and of course the highest spec, we

also ordered an extra set of winter tyres and wheels, as we planed on driving to Sweden and

France in winter, we also had a roof box for the ski kit and a tow bar fitted.

They delivered it on the Friday afternoon, Saturday morning we headed out in the car to

the Regimental rugby, this year being played in Wymondon in Norfolk, we had contacted

one of our old Officers who lived there and he put us up for the night after the game, next

morning we left fairly early for the Gathering at Duxford.

We had a wonderful couple of days meeting up with loads of old colleagues and reminiscing

on times past, it’s funny looking into an old face and seeing the young one behind it, then

picking up on a conversation you had the last time you saw them, many decades had passed

since we served together for some. Johan and I had been legends in the Battalion for our

prowess on the rugby pitch.

While at the rugby we got talked into sponsoring the next years game, we said as long as itwas against Hitchin our old club, we said we would pay for the playing shirts, a couple of

barrels and the meal after, but first we just had to check with the club chairman to make

sure it was OK, he was over the moon and very happy to invite the Regiment back again,

we dropped in on him on the way home and stopped with Ingrid and Harry for the night.

The new car was a real joy to drive a right mile muncher. Back home it was down to a bit of

planning for our next trips, 2019 was going to be a great year, after having all the family for

Christmas and New Year was going to be great fun. But before that we had the rest of 2018

to get through.

The week after the Gathering was the Ace Cafe Reunion, which involved a ride from the

Ace Cafe to Brighton, so we serviced our old bikes, Vinka on her Thunderbird, Marlin on

her Bonneville, Johan on his BSA A10 and me on my Norton Commando, all dressed in

Rocker leathers looking the part. What surprised us was the shear numbers of bikes there,

someone said there were close on fifty thousand bikes, amazing.

Because we looked the part and had prebooked we managed to get onto the forecourt of

the Ace Cafe and were allowed to be in the leading pack down to Brighton where we had a

place reserved on the seafront close to the Pier end. Tom, Jimmy and Mary only managed

to catch us in a couple of places, fortunately we got some great footage from the bikes and

our helmet cams. The weather was fantastic that weekend which brought out the numbers.

We had managed to get tickets for the Festival of Remembrance fom the Garrison Sergeant

Major, then on the Sunday to march on the Cenotaph with the Black and White Association,

we did manage to get booked into the Special Forces Club for the Friday, Saturday and

Sunday nights. A very moving weekend for all of us. The Garrison Sergeant Major along

with the tickets he gave us let us use his box for The Festival of Remembrance, we were sat

directly opposite the Royal Box. We were dressed in our best blazers complete with medals,

we looked very impressive.

You might be wondering why the Garrison Sergeant Major took such an interest in the four

of us and invited us to the Mess and arranged tickets for events, well many years ago we

helped him out on a big exercise when we were with C Squadron and we became friends

from then on, when he became the GSM he looked after us, it’s as simple as that.

Next morning we got a taxi to Horse Guards, it was a clear cold November morning so

we all had our Crombie top coats on and wore our berets and medals. Meeting the rest of

our contingent after passing through security, while catching up we were told to get ready

to march under Horse Guards arch and out onto Whitehall, we halted just short of the

Cenotaph. It felt like ages before the Queen came out for the two minute silence. Whilst

waiting some clown accused us of being Waltz, the Garrison Sergeant Major overheard him

and put him straight, it was so funny, the clown turned out to be the Walter Mitty.

After the official bit of the Royals and dignitaries laying their wreaths the march past

stepped off, Marlin was left marker carrying our wreath and Johan was behind her, Vinkawas behind Johan and I was behind her, to our right were the rest of our contingent some

twenty former members of the Group making twenty four of us in all. We had an invite from

the Garrison Sergeant Major to join him in the Mess for a Curry lunch. We had a wonderful

afternoon with a few beers and a good catch up.

A few weeks later we had a Christmas Ball at Hornet Services Sailing Club, that was a great

night we all had so much fun, then our attentions then turned to Christmas and getting ‘The

Old Manor House’ ready for the family descending upon us, we would have a full house, it

was so wonderful having everyone come to us, although it wasn’t like the old days in Sweden

it was still a lot of fun.

As a Christmas present to each other we brought new boots, skis and bindings, these were

totally different to the old cable bindings, these were the NTN bindings (new telemark norm),

the skis were more like alpine skis, the difference it made to our skiing was something else,

the boots were just as comfortable but with the binding and skis being so much stiffer it gave

a lot more control. We also took our old skis and boots for the mountain race. With eight

sets of skis, boots and sixteen poles loaded into the roof box and bags in the boot of the car

we set off.

In early January we were off to the French Alps for the Championships, ten days of training

and competition, there were some great skiers coming up especially girls, who gave Vinka

and Marlin a run for their money. The best thing about these Championships is that everyone

was in the same hotel unlike back in the Austria days when we were spread through the

village, this was a lot more sociable and fun, we had built up a reputation over the years of

competing.

One big difference with Telemark racing is all the competitors have extra long poles like

in Nordic for the skate at the end of the race whether the Classic or Sprint. This year they

introduced the Parallel sprint, this was brilliant, you had two identical courses next to each

other and the competitors started at the top together and had about twenty gates, the jump,

the 360 wrap and the skate section to the finish, this was great for the spectators.

Vinka and Marlin were pitched against each other and there wasn’t a split second between

them, then they were up against a couple of girls who were up and coming, both had very

close races, unfortunately they both came second by a second, great to watch. Johan and I

both had a few good runs but didn’t ski together, we were both knocked out and ended up

mid table, there were some great lads coming through all a lot younger than us.

We all did well in the veteran category not bad for 64 year olds. We took part in all the races

including the Mountain race as a team of four, I think this was the hardest of all the races

being a relay with all team members doing both an skin up section and a ski down, as a team

we came tenth out of eighteen teams.

Vinka had a third in the Classic and Marlin had a third in the Sprint, and they came third and

forth in the parallel only four seconds separated the top four places. Johan and I were mid

table in all our races, we all got a special mention at the prize giving being the oldest team tocompete with a combined age of 256.

When we finished at the championships we drove over to Corvara for two week skiing

staying at our favourite pension, the Predat, everything was perfect, the food, the rooms,

the sauna, hot tub and the skiing we couldn’t have planned it better if we tried. We skied

around the Sella Ronda a few times and the Hidden Valley was brilliant as always.

The Sella Ronda is a route around a massive mountain with connecting lifts and runs which

takes a few hours to get all the way round, of course we stopped for lunch. The Hidden

Valley is a run down a mountain but to get to the start you catch a bus to a cable car, at the

top the views are stunning. The very top part is a steep descent of a few hundred metres

then a left turn levelling out to a beautiful pristine run downhill for about five miles.

We stopped for coffee and cake half way down at the cafe, when you get to the end there is

a horse drawn drag where you all hold a rope and are pulled behind a horse drawn sled out

of the valley to catch a bus back onto the Sella Ronda and we continued back to Corvara,

we enjoyed this so much we actually did it four times.

Arriving back home at the beginning of February we only had a couple of days to turn

around and load up the vans and trailers, with a little creative loading we were able to get

all four of the V4Rs into one of the trailers and the two MVs and two Manx into the van,

in the other trailer we loaded the two RGs, 8 9 9 and 7 4 9, then in the van a load of tyres,

spares and tools. With all seven of us onboard we drove round to the International Ferry

Port, Portsmouth to catch the ferry to Santander. We were going winter testing.

The Bay of Biscay was kind to us and gave us a relative easy passage, after passing through

customs we pulled over to check that the bikes were still secure before heading to the track

in the south of Spain where hopefully it would be warmer. We had five full days of open pit

lanes to enjoy all of the bikes. Tom, Jimmy and Mary all rode the MVs and Manx bikes on

one day.

Jimmy had acquired a top of the range drone and got all the right licences to fly it and sort

permission from the track officials to use it over the track while we were riding, this added

a new perspective to our videos and when they released got raving reviews.

There were a few other teams down there from BSB and Grassroots, we got to chatting with

many of them about their racing and what was involved, having been to a few meetings

back last season. They said why didn’t we race as a team but at our age it’s just not practical

or sensible, but we do enjoy our track days all the same.

We had some great footage from the drone and new 360 cameras, and had some very close

riding on the V4Rs, with all of us talking to each other as well while having so much fun

staying safe ensuring we didn’t bump into each other. The more we rode together the more

we knew what to expect, this became second nature and a six sense.

This particular track was tough on tyres and all the bikes had to have new ones, the V4Rs allwent through five sets each and the 7 4 9 and 8 9 9 had two sets, fortunately the classics only

the one which was good as we didn’t have any other spares there for them, they would have to

wait until we got home to be replaced before the next time we took them out.

Back home after a superb weeks testing, well for us it was just fun being on the bikes in nice

weather, for the teams it was more of a chore. Having cleaned serviced and changed tyres on

all the bikes we put them to bed in the bike shed and prepared the Multistrada’s for the next

great adventure, we were on the road to Morocco.

This great adventure had been in the planning for months and months, we had a clear route

and objectives to complete, we had done extensive research into the places we were going

to visit and had plenty of notes and scripts. We had purchased some new cameras, updated

some of the old Go Pros and got a couple of DJI Action 4 and four instra 360 X3s along with

a couple of Sony ZV1s, the old mics were still good. We had also updated the helmet comms

so they linked to the mics so we could also record our conversations while filming and riding,

this added to the overall end videos.

We were all set and loaded ready to go round to the ferry for Spain and that was it like coiled

springs we were off on another great adventure into the unknown.

It was nine o’clock in the evening when we entered the International Ferry Port of Portsmouth,

as we rode in towards the checking gates we were directed to the gate for Santander, we had

to check in individually where our passports were checked and our tickets were issued, we

had booked two twin cabins. We then pulled forward into the lines and waited to go through

security, what a faff that was.

We pulled into the security shed eight bikes at a time, we had to remove our helmets and open

a bag and a pannier, just in case we were carrying something we shouldn’t have, the security

bloke hardly took a cursory glance into our bags or panniers, I think it is just to muck us

about, we then move forward into another line to wait for boarding.

After what seemed like an age we were all called forward, about thirty bikes in all and up the

ramp onto the ship, we were guided down one side of the ship then turned round into the

middle and all pulled up two by two, we stopped next to some straps and a large blue pads

ready to be tied down, while waiting we took off the bags we needed for the journey, then

watched as our bikes were strapped down, happy, we headed for the cabins.

Going up the blue stairwell to deck seven we were directed to our cabins, which were at the

stern on the ship, we had cabins 7131 and 7133 the last two on the deck right on the centre

line of the ship, instead of a window we had a fabric picture with a light behind made it look

like a porthole. The cabins were comfortable enough with a half decent shower, toilet and

sink.

The ship can take up to one thousand passengers but this trip only had about five hundred

and a few cats and dogs. After we changed out of our bike gear we headed to the bar for anight cap, after that when we were underway we headed for our cabins and a good nights

rest.

Next morning we met at nine and had the continental breakfast, we sat there for almost two

hours just grazing, drinking coffee and looking out at the French coast line, as we rounded

the corner near Brest, we saw a few sailing vessels off the port side of the ship, Vinka said

that it was either a bit early or late in the season if they were heading south as this was only

March.

On the way back to our cabins we booked a table for dinner that evening. We spent the day

just relaxing and catching up on some sleep. Over dinner the decision naturally came round

to our up coming adventure and what we could expect to see, had we got the planning right,

had we given ourselves the right amount of time at each destination, time would tell.

Thirty six hours later and a fairly gentle passage across the Bay of Biscay we arrived in

Santander, after going through passport control and getting our passports stamped we

headed off towards Portugal. Our first day was a short one of two hundred miles, the place

we stopped was Hospital de Órbigo not far from Leon. The place we stopped in was a hostel

on the pilgrimage route of the Camino Del Santiago.

We had a six man room to ourselves, there were about a dozen people that were on the

Pilgrimage who had been walking all day, we joined several of them on a long table in the

restaurant, we had a fascinating conversation that evening on some of the reasons they were

doing the Camino.

Our next stop was Oporto, as we loaded the bikes the temperature was -3c, it did start to

warm up during the day to a barmy +6c, fortunately we all had our heated under suits and

gloves plugged into the bike electrics. We were going to stay a couple of days in a very nice

hotel not far from the old town and port sellers.

We first visited The Foz do Douro Castle that stands at the mouth of the Douro river and

has been there since before Wellington, we think it had something to do with the Moores,

we enjoyed looking around it, after that we went into town and crossed back over the river

on a ferry to visit some of the port sellers, Taylor’s and Graham’s in particular. They charged

nowadays to visit, they didn’t the last time when we were sixteen year old boys, anyway we

bit the bullet and paid, it was worth it, we did some interesting filming in the cellars in low

light which came out remarkablely well.

Next day we set off early to ride down to the ’Lines of Torres Vedras’ these were the defences

that Wellington had built to protect his army in Lisbon in case the French tried to take

it, they must of worked because old Boney never took Lisbon. As we rode up to Fort St

Vincent and through the gate which was just wide enough for our bikes to pass through, we

parked them in a neat line military fasion, then got ready to do a bit of filming, with scripts

to hand we split up and went to work.Fort St Vincent is one of the larger forts situated on top of one of the hills outside the town of

Torres Vedras and has a commanding view across the entire area, much of the fort as far as

we could see has been very well preserved, it also has a visitors centre, well a small building

with information about the fort, it’s closed on Monday’s. We spent a peaceful couple of hours

filming before moving on.

Riding a couple of hours east we found our accommodation for the night in the Old Elvora

Hostel, they gave us a four man room over looking the street where the bikes were parked

outside. It was comfortable enough for the one night, after we had settled in we grabbed the

cameras and went walkabout around the town.

Looking around Elvora we went into the main square with a big church at one end and the

usual coffee shops and chairs and tables in the street, after wandering about we walked back

down past the hostel and at the end of the street was the old city wall. After dinner that

evening we had an early night.

After breakfast we loaded up and headed for Elvas. One of the most stand out architectural

sites in the town is The Elvas Aqueduct which is a UNESCO world heritage site, that was

constructed between the 16th and 17th centuries to serve as a water supply channel to Elvas

from Amoreira. It stretches over 7 km and is as high as 31 metres, truly amazing.

Next we went into the Citadel to look for the British Cemetery but found the largest Military

museum in Portugal, we spent a good couple of hours going round here before we eventually

found the grave yard, by the time we finished we needed to head for Algeciras for the night

as we had the ferry booked next day, so we had to miss out on Badajos.

Fortunately just around the corner from the hotel was a secure car park for the bikes with a

couple of blokes stagging on all night. Once we had settled in we went in search of food and

found a nice little restaurant just down the road.

We had an early ferry next morning, so missed breakfast in the hotel, we thought we’ll get it

on the ferry! The rain was pouring down we had a very wet ride round to the ferry terminal

two hours before it was due to leave so it said on the booking form, to be told the gate would

open an hour before sailing.

Standing around in the pouring rain there were a few other bikes there, a couple of guys we

had seen on the ferry from Portsmouth the week before, chatting to them they had seen a lot

of wet weather on the way down through Spain, we had been lucky until this day.

When the gate finally opened and we were processed, well getting our tickets and passports

stamped to leave Spain, we rode round into the line to board the ferry, we had another half

hour to wait while they loaded trucks onto the ferry, still in the pouring rain, it wasn’t all that

warm either.

Watching the crew strap down our bikes was a bit worrying, they lashed them down withfour points from the bike instead of the normal one strap across the seat, apparently we were

expecting a bit of a rough crossing to Trans Med, it wasn’t that bad, unlike the breakfast

which consisted of a stale croissant and a luke warm coffee.

The passport formalities were done on board before we docked, straight forward enough,

fill out the form and the customs bloke checked it entered a number that would be your

personal number and that was it, with that day stamp.

Once we disembarked the ferry we then rode to the customs shed where we had to produce

our passports and V5 for the bikes, once they checked that the name on the documents

matched they issued you with a card for the bike, top tip don’t lose it. That done, we were

free to go and change money and get sim cards for our phones.

All done we were free to head south for our first place we were going to stop, what we had

neglected to research was this was the start of Ramadan, I thought it funny that all the cafés

and restaurants were closed on the way to Chefchaouen the blue city. We had been advised

that we needed to park in a garage opposite the Madrid Hotel and walk up to our Riad

where we were going to stop for two nights.

It was a bit of a challenge to find the Riad in amongst all the narrow alleyways in the old

madina, we eventually found it and the guy didn’t speak much English fortunately his

French and Arabic worked for us, he put all four of us in one room with two bunk beds,

the upper ones were very high and it was a bit of a mission climbing up the vertical ladder,

Johan and I drew the short straw again and got the top bunks.

After settling in we went in search of dinner, not having eaten since the stale croissant and

a luke warm coffee from that morning. Fortunately the sun was just going down and the

restaurants were just opening. Over a big plate of chicken couscous each we needed to come

up with a plan so we didn’t starve the rest of the time in Morocco.

Next morning Ahmed our host laid on a lovely breakfast for us and all the other guests

before we headed out to do a days filming around the city. We spent the rest of the day

wandering around the city and filming all the key tourist spots and some of the lesser

known things people don’t normally see.

That evening we went to a different restaurant and had a chicken tagine with lots of

vegetables, there were lots of olives and dates on the side, one thing we all agreed was that

the mint tea wasn’t for us, it was either too sweet or bitter, so we stuck to coffee with milk.

The next morning after another lovely breakfast we carried all our stuff down to the bikes

and loaded up ready for the ride down to Fez and a hotel. Leaving Chefchaouen we picked

up the N12 and headed towards Targuist where we turned south on the N8 for Fez, it took

us most of the day to ride this road, it was amazing and in remarkable good condition.

What surprised us was just how well these roads were kept considering it was taking us overthe Rif mountains, there was some snow on the higher parts of the road but we took it easy

and didn’t have any trouble. The climb up and the ride down the other side was spectacular,

it certainly tested us and the bikes, it was one of the best roads we have ever ridden so far.

Arriving in Fez totally knackered we followed the instructions to our hotel which had it’s own

underground car park where the bikes would be safe for the next couple of days while we

explored this very old city. The hotel was just outside the old medina, the manager organised

a first class licensed guide for us for the two full days along with a minibus to ferry us around.

After a wonderful meal in the hotel and a night cap in the bar after, we had a good nights

sleep, breakfast was just what was needed before a full day of exploring this old city. Araf our

guide met us in the lobby and Abdul our driver was waiting in the minibus in front of the

hotel.

Our first stop was the ceramic factory outside the medina, here we learnt how they made all

sorts of pots, tagine’s, chairs, tables and mosaics and any thing and everything made from

clay. They ship things all over the world from here, although there was no pressure to buy

anything, Marlin and Vinka loved some tables and chairs that would be great for our court

yard, the guide said that we could have it personalised just for us, so we had our names on

the one of the tables and each one had a chair with our name on it, the other four tables and

sixteen chairs were all different mosaic designs that complemented each other, including this

and the shipping to England we thought it was a very fair price.

Next Abdul dropped us off just inside the Medina where Araf took us to the famous tannery,

I found it funny that they offer you some mint as you enter the works to help mask the smell,

I didn’t bother nor did the others, the smell wasn’t bad at all, might have been because of the

cool weather.

As we were shown around the works there were room after room of all the different leather

goods they made here in Fez, from leather handbags, jackets, shoes and even pouffes, again

they would ship stuff anywhere in the world, the girls ordered a dozen pouffes for the sitting

room back home and had them shipped.

We spent the rest of what was left of the day wandering around the alleyways of the medina

before being dropped off back at the hotel. Next morning after breakfast we spent the day

in the old medina. Walking around the different markets we remarked just how many cats

there were in the city, seem like everybody looks after the cats and puts food out for them

but nobody owns them.

Back in the hotel that evening and another wonderful meal and a night cap we had an early

night ready for the next days ride over the High Atlas mountains. The manager informed us

that the road we wanted to take over the mountains was blocked with snow and wouldn’t be

open for a week or two.

A quick change of plan and some advice from the manager he was able to get a booking in ahotel in a place called Beni Mella for the night as it would take us several hours to get there,

we already had a suite booked at the Atlas Film Studios hotel in Quazazate on the edge of

the Sahara desert for the following day.

Now let me tell you the N9, it is a fantastic road, much of it is new and the bit that goes over

the High Atlas mountains is brilliant with its sweeping bends and a few hair pins thrown

into the mix made for a great experience, even better still, we had to ride it most of the way

back again when we left Quazazate on our way to Marrakesh.

We finally arrived late in the afternoon at the Atlas Studio hotel and booked into our suite,

it had everything, hot tub, mini bar and room service, so we indulged ourselves and after

a hot tub we ordered dinner in the suite.

Next morning we had an exclusive guided tour of the film studio before it opened to the

general public, they even took us by minibus out to the fort, we had a great time filming

here, trying to recreate some of the scenes from the films that had been shot here. Lawrence

of Arabia, Game of Thrones, Cleopatra, Life of Brian, Gladiator plus a few other famous

films from years past.

After lunch in the hotel we headed back up the N 9 for Marrakesh and over the High Atlas

mountains, but just before that we made a ten mile detour to see the famous Ben Haddou

city where they filmed some scenes from Game of Thrones.

It took us just over four hours ride to get to our Riad in the Medina, what a nightmare.

Riding through the Old Medina isn’t for the faint hearted, the streets are narrow and filled

with people and motorbikes whizzing back and forth, and us trying to find our Riad on

four large Multistrada’s was a massive challenge. When we finally found the place the

owner took us back the way we came to park the bikes in a secure car park but not before

unloading the bikes.

Now Marrakesh is a very busy city, well the old madina is. The Riad we were staying in

was about two hundred metres from the main square where by day the snake charmers

and guys with monkeys hang out trying to fleece tourists, there were also lots of fruit stalls

during the day. In the evening as the sun was starting to set all the market stalls and street

food vendor’s were seting up.

We had made a reservation in one of the restaurants over looking the madina square,

we had a great dinner but the fascination of watching the square was better than any

entertainment they could have laid on, there was so much going on right across the entire

place, we sat there for a good three hours just people watching.

Now we had heard and seen just how these snake charmers and monkey men operate, if

they suspect you are filming them they will demand money, so you have to be a little crafty,

of course we have practiced this on lots of occasions, so while doing a piece to camera thecameraman would slightly have the shot where the presenter was at the side of the frame and

the subject was over their shoulder, this worked nearly every time.

On a couple of occasions we did get challenged but when we answered in Arabic they backed

off especially when the girls started to converse with them, that was so funny seeing the look

on their faces.

Walking around the small streets in the madina you really are taking your life into your

own hands, they are crazy, people, bikes, cats and dogs all vying for space, how nobody gets

injured is a miracle.

Next morning after a nice breakfast we only had a hundred and fifty mile ride up to Casablanca

and a hotel for a couple of nights, the highlight was we had a booking at Rick’s for dinner.

We found the hotel straight away with its view of the Hassan 2 mosque and about half a mile

from Rick’s, the perfect location.

We parked the bikes in the underground car park, there was a very steep descent into the

parking area but plenty of room for the bikes to park, we had adjacent rooms both with a

view of the mosque. There were no facilities at the hotel, fortunately not far away was the new

Marina Shopping mall, with lots of food outlets that catered in the main for tourists, lucky

we could eat during the day as well as get a coffee, a Costa of all things.

Next morning we started fairly early and walked to the Hassan 2 mosque just as it opened to

the public, already there were a few coach loads of tourists waiting to do the tour, we were

lucky to get in almost first and were able to get some great shots without people spoiling

them. Within half an hour the place was heaving, so we took our leave and wandered off to

the shopping mall for breakfast.

Not much was open but we did get a Costa coffee and a croissant, that would have to do until

we went to Rick’s that evening. We spent most of the day wandering around the back streets,

not a lot to see and most places were closed as it was still Ramadan, so we headed back to

the hotel and did some maintenance on the bikes, adjusting then greasing the chains and

checking the oil levels for the second time on the trip, before getting ready to go out to Rick’s.

The girls had packed lovely summer dresses while Johan and I had a shirt and tie and a fairly

smart jacket, fortunately not too creased but looked OK. We wandered down the road and

arrived at Rick’s about ten minutes before it opened at six thirty, we were the first ones in and

were escorted to our table on the second floor with a great view over the balcony to see the

band and tables below.

The air of nostalgia in this place was amazing, it took us right back to the film even though it

never was real and only existed on a Hollywood film set, but what Kathy Kriger had created

here was magical. The waiter came over with olives and bread rolls, he took our drinks order,

while waiting for him to bring the wine we ordered we looked around at the other people

being seated.Now we had done our research and it clearly states a dress code, to us it looked like they

don’t enforce it, either that or people just have no idea how to dress, I guess that most of

them are foreigners without a clue. The waiter returned with a bottle of wine and did the

normal thing of taking the cork out and pouring a little into Johan’s glass, he took a sip

and pulled a sour face, the waiters face was a picture he then told him it was fine, that

always gets a laugh, he then took our order for food, we all had the smoked salmon starter

with a cream mustard dressing, it was beautifully presented and tasted fantastic.

We all opted for the New York stake, well it literally melted in the mouth, the roast

potatoes were cooked to perfection, and to finish off we had the signature dessert, Rick’s

cheesecake then coffee and mints. We took a full two and a half hours over dinner, then

retired to the upstairs bar where the roulette table was, it even had the chip on 22 and the

ball on black 22, the barman put the film on the big TV for us.

As we sat there sipping our drinks and listening to the band downstairs just immersing

ourselves in the atmosphere and just dreaming of what it could have been like back in the

day, the modern day Casablanca was nothing like how the movie portrayed it.

Still full from Rick’s the night before we loaded the bikes and took a deep breath before

one by one we rode up the steep exit from the underground car park onto the street then

out onto the road above, we then headed towards Rabat the capital we didn’t bother

with stopping here as the areas around the Palaces were heavily guarded and filming was

forbidden anyway.

We arrived at the hotel about a mile from the port of Trans Med late in the afternoon and

booked in for the night, fortunately there was secure parking for the bikes. We had a ferry

booked early next morning back to Algeciras, the weather had been awful the last couple

of days especially the last bit from Rabat, strong winds made the ride hard work.

Not having eaten all day as we hadn’t had any breakfast, we were all pretty hungry so had

dinner in the hotel and had an early night. Next morning we left before breakfast to arrive

a couple of hours before our ferry, which turned out to have been cancelled, fortunately

we managed to get booked onto another ferry company. Luckely there was a cafe in the

waiting area where the banks, insurance and phone card brokers were, so we did manage

to get coffee and a croissant.

Finally arriving in Algeciras late in the afternoon we took the decision to book into the

same hotel we stayed in on the way out and park the bikes in the same car park, fortunately

they had rooms available.

Over dinner we came up with a new plan, we had a booking in Salamanca in two days

time, so we looked for a hotel in Badajos so we could finish filming the siege that we

missed on the way to Morocco, then also film the British cemetery we wanted to visit as

well. So we booked the hotel in Badajos.We are so pleased we did this, Badajos was really good, we found the cemetery and paid our

respects. The British Cemetery is situated in the bastion of São João da Corujeira, high on

the eastern wall and just below the castle, commanding a fine view over the plain to Badajos

in Spain. The bastion is named after the adjoining chapel, founded by the Friars of St. John’s

Hospitallers in 1228, to mark the spot at which they broke into the Moorish defences.

The British Cemetery was opened in 1811 to receive the body of Major General Daniel

Hoghton, who fell at the head of his Brigade in the Battle of Albuera, on 16th May 1811.

Traditionally, British soldiers were not permitted to be buried in Portuguese or Spanish

cemeteries, as they were not Catholics.

After this we followed the wall down to where the forlorn hope made the breach, they attacked

the wall in three places and finally broke through, when they rebuilt the wall they placed

cannon balls in the shape of 1812 to show where it happened, you can still see these to this

day.

We had a spot of lunch before heading north towards Salamanca, the hotel was just off the

motorway, originally we would have done a four hundred mile day to get here but because we

were a day ahead of ourselves we didn’t cancel it, it was comfortable enough and the food in

the restaurant was good that evening.

Our next stop was at the Hotel Rural En El Camino, Calle del Rosario which is right on the

route for walkers doing the Camino Del Santiago, the landlord Edwaldo welcomed us and

showed us where to park our bikes in his back yard behind locked gates, then showed us to

our rooms and told us dinner was at seven.

After squaring ourselves away we met in the bar and had a drink before dinner, there were

eight other people who had been walking all day and Edwaldo showed us all into the dining

room, there was a long table laid up for twelve people, he told us to take a seat.

The waiter came out to take our order, he said this is a set menu, we could have either noodle

or lentil soup then chicken or fish and to finish flan or ice cream. The soup came out in large

bowls and we could help ourselves, there was bread on the table already plus some olives.

There was a right mix of nationalities around the table that evening, obviously there was

us, there was a German, a guy from Belgium, Australian girl, a couple of Canadian women,

a couple of Spanish blokes and a Hungarian bloke, it was fascinating listening to the

conversations that evening.

Next morning we had an early breakfast and set off in the rain for France, we were going to

stop with Henry and Marie at the Château for a few days, Claude and Edith had retired and

Henry was running the show with his sons Thomas and Pierre.

The weather started to improve once we passed into France across the boarder at Irun. We

arrived in the middle of the afternoon and Claude, Edith, Henry and Marie were there togreet us. Over dinner that evening we had a chance to catch up on all the news, they were

now grand parents and had just become great grandparents for the first time.

We had a lovely time but time was marching on and we had one more place we wanted to

film on this trip and that was St Nazaire in Brittany, to see the submarine pens and the dry

lock gate of Operation Chariot.

We left the Château in time to catch the ferry from Gare de La Pointe de Grave over too

Royan then stuck to the national roads all the way to St Nazaire stopping on the way to

fill up the bikes and have lunch. Arriving at the Holiday Inn Express right opposite the

submarine pens in St Nazaire, unfortunately we had to park the bikes out front but there was

security on the desk all night who would keep and eye on them.

The St Nazaire Raid or Operation Chariot was a British amphibious attack on the heavily

defended dry dock at St Nazaire in German-occupied France during the Second World

War. The operation was undertaken by the Royal Navy and British Commandos under the

auspices of Combined Operations Headquarters on 28 March 1942. St Nazaire was targeted

because the loss of its dry dock would force any large German warship in need of repairs,

such as Tirpitz, or her sister ship the Bismarck, to return to home waters by running the

gauntlet of the Home Fleet of the Royal Navy and other British forces, via the English

Channel or the North Sea.

The obsolete destroyer HMS Campbeltown, accompanied by 18 smaller craft, crossed the

English Channel to the Atlantic coast of France and rammed into the dry dock south gate.

The ship had been packed with delayed-action explosives, well hidden within a steel and

concrete case, that detonated later that day, putting the dock out of service until 1948.

The force of commandos landed to destroy machinery and other structures. German

gunfire sank, set ablaze, or immobilized virtually all the small craft intended to transport the

commandos back to England. The commandos fought their way through the town to escape

overland but many surrendered when they ran out of ammunition or were surrounded by

the Wehrmacht defending Saint-Nazaire.

Of the 612 men who undertook the raid, 228 returned to Britain, 169 were killed and 215

became prisoners of war. German casualties included over 360 dead, some of whom were

killed after the raid when Campbeltown exploded. To recognise their bravery, 89 members

of the raiding party were awarded decorations, including five Victoria Crosses. After the

war, St Nazaire was one of 38 battle honours awarded to the commandos. The operation has

been called “the greatest raid of all” in British military circles. 168 Commandos killed. 400

Germans killed and only 17 French.

Having spent most of the day filming we went out that evening for a meal in a local restaurant

then back to the hotel for a night cap and early night ready for an early start next morning.

After breakfast we packed the bikes and headed about half an hour away to visit the

immaculately maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, this site datesfrom the early years of World War Two and is the last resting place of fifty-six named

‘Charioteers’. Containing a total of 329 burials, 74 of which remain unidentified, the

cemetery also contains the graves of airmen shot down during the many raids on the area,

and servicemen lost both prior to the retreats of 1940 and when the troopship Lancastria was

sunk offshore on 17 June 1940.

It took us a little over three hours to ride to St Malo to catch the overnight ferry back to

Portsmouth and the end of this amazing trip, almost all of our planning paid off and we

completed everything we set out to film, fortunately we were able to upload all the footage

onto the server for the guys to start the editing process on before we returned.

Arriving back at ‘The Old Manor House’ all the guys were there to greet us, after sitting down

and having coffee and a catch up Tom, Jimmy and Mary got on with the editing while we

unloaded the bikes and got them washed off and on the tables to give them a service before

putting them to bed ready for the next great adventure.

We spent the next few days reviewing all the videos and up loading them to YouTube ready

to release over the next month or so, the guys had done a fantastic job with the editing. We

then got ready for a live chat show that evening to tell of our adventures and play a few clips

to promote the series.

The twenty third of March 2020 was a day that changed many peoples lives, the world went

into lock down and any non-essential movement anywhere was banned, only households

could interact with each other, no one could visit you, you could only go out once a day for

short exercise or to the shops, you had to stay at least two metres away from everyone else

and wear a mask.

Life for most people was pretty miserable, for the four of us we had a tough choice to make,

what did we do about the staff. Doris and Wendy wanted to stay with us, as neither had

partners and lived alone, we let them have a room each which they could make it theirs, they

brought some of their personal things from their homes with them.

As for Tom, Jimmy and Mary they were in the same position all living on their own, they also

moved in and each had a room to themselves, for us this was a real positive thing, although

we were restricted in where we could go we could at leased keep ourselves busy in the bike

shed and studio filming.

Initially we thought it would only be three weeks to flatten the curve, it turned out to be a

year, fortunately we had picked up four extra bikes at an auction the previous autumn but

hadn’t got round to restoring them. We had great fun doing live shows from the bike shed

working on the bikes, we had a large monitor set up on the wall to see comments coming

in. We spent about four hours on a Tuesday and Thursday doing these live streams from the

bike shed.

Vinka and Marlin had brought a Suzuki GS 850 each to match Johan and my 850s to restore,we also acquired Vincent Black Shadow and a Brough Superior SS100 to restore. We hadn’t

done anything with our old GS 850s for years so just for fun we rebuilt all four GS’s at the

same time. We also had an old GT 3 80 that needed rebuilding, this wasn’t standard as

someone had turned it into a cafe racer with rear sets, clipons and a three into one pipper

exhaust fitted, it also needed a paint job.

Over the months we gained a massive following, when we did the live show in the evening,

it started off once a week but we ended up doing it every evening, we had people phoning in

and commenting, people really appreciated what we were doing. Fortunately the audience

kept us on our toes and gave us enough material to talk about.

One day having been going for several weeks with no end insight we sat about and had

a brainstorming session to come up with a proper schedule for not just the live shows in

the evening and what content we would discuss but also for the day live streams from the

bike shed, where we would just work on one bike at a time, we would take a break over the

weekend.

Fortunately Salamanca had come out of the water in October and wasn’t due to go back in

until April, we had winterised her and completed all the maintenance jobs and had covered

her over, we weren’t even aloud to visit her during this entire period of lock down, most

unsatisfactory and unnecessary.

We did two hours in the morning from ten until twelve then had a break for lunch and

started again at two until four in the afternoon live streaming on the bikes, taking questions

and explaining what we were doing, we got tips from the audience if they knew a better or

easier way of doing something.

The Monday evening show we would do at the desks like news readers and discuss what

was going on with the lockdown and the latest from the Government, it didn’t take long to

start picking holes in what they were telling us, and for us to start questioning ‘The Science’

somehow lots of it didn’t make any sense, then Ministers would get court out or celebrities

for not following their own rules.

Tuesday and Wednesday evenings we did a relaxed chat show on the couches, talking about

skiing, sailing, rugby and bikes, taking questions from the audience and just having fun.

Obviously we had many questions about us and the team.

Thursday evening we were back at the desks and did a couple of hours talking about the

effects the lock down was having on people, we had lots of people ringing in and telling

their stories, we were going to do a quiz on Friday evenings but the Thursday show was

so successful we carried it over and did it again on Friday, people told us how watching us

helped them cope. We were making an impact, for us this was very important.

Effectively the lock down lasted a year and in all that time we kept going, we had regular

zoom calls with the family which was our life line. The family in Sweden were better offthan us as they didn’t get locked down, which proved the right thing to do just protect the

vulnerable and everyone else make their own choice.

The nine of us in ‘The Old Manor House’ made the best of it, fortunately Doris and Wendy

were able to go food shopping at least once or twice a week, the rest of us could go out

onto the beach or down the road for runs, we also had the gym and dance floor. So on a

Wednesday and Friday Vinka and Marlin could keep their hand in, they taught the rest of us

Aikido, which they made fun, even Doris and Wendy joined in, Tom, Jimmy and Mary were

becoming very good at it.

Monday was our planning day, we spent the whole day working out the plan for the rest of

the week and put a timetable into place. For many people lock down was negative, for us we

made it a massive positive, we were becoming professionals at our craft, our presenting skills

improved greatly, our knowledge on mental health was gaining all the time talking to people,

a vast number were veterans like us.

Amazon was a god send if we needed anything for the bikes it would be delivered within a

few days, the challenge came if we needed anything chroming or coating then it would have

to be shelved until after lockdown, which was a shame, fortunately we didn’t show the bikes

that needed this work and only filmed the ones we could complete.

We were able to spend a lot of time in the sauna, hot tub and lounging in the courtyard on the

sunbeds during the summer. All nine of us had time to sit and chat about our lives and all the

things we had done, it was fascinating to listen to Doris and her stories and all the places she

had cooked and the amount of dignitaries and Royalty she had cooked for.

Wendy had some amazing stories from her time on the Royal Yacht and promised to take us

onboard and give us a really special tour one day. During her time in the Navy she had served

on many ships and had been around the world a few times, she was still friends with some of

the Captain’s and Officers she served under.

We said that if we ever got out of this lockdown she and Doris could invite some of their

friends for a weekend dinner party and we would do all the cooking and waiting on for them

so they could enjoy being the hosts for a change.

Mary had been in Afghanistan at the same time as us on our last tour, she saw us briefing

the day we brought in the notes from Garmsir and the success we had there in the Brigade

Commander’s nightly briefing, she told us how highly thought of we were throughout the

Headquarters and the work we were doing, we knew none of this until now.

As lockdown continued we got to know more and more about them all, we were becoming

very close friends and enjoyed each others company. During this time nobody knew just

how long this was going to last, periodically they all took the opportunity to visit their flats

to make sure they were still in tact and hadn’t been robbed, lucky none had been.By Christmas we had hoped it would all be over, but just a couple of days before they

locked us down again which meant we couldn’t meet up with our families, this was an

outrage, worse of all for people that had died or were dyeing in hospitals or care homes.

For us it was very tough especially for the girls not being near the kids and grand kids.

We made the best of it with zoom calls to everyone over the Christmas period, Doris and

Wendy made a very special dinner for us all, we broke out some excellent wine and just

had the best day we could. That evening we all went down into ‘The Salamanca Club’ and

played music and danced the night away.

New Years Eve was the same, after a fabulous meal we danced the night away until we saw

in the new year together, we could only hope that 2021 would see us back to normal and

out of this perpetual lockdown. The restrictions were finally lifted on the ninth of July.

A week later all our kids and grand kids came with our parents for a holiday and get

together, the grand kids had grown so much, although we had seen them on zoom calls

it’s not until you get to hug them you realise just how much, and what you have missed.

We vowed never to be locked down again, especially after the politicians were all ignoring

their own rules, with partygate and beergate. The worse thing in this was having to watch

The Queen at Prince Philip’s funeral sat on her own and not even have any of the family

comfort her, that was outrageous.

Even though lockdown finished in July it was months before things finally got back to

any sort of normality. We took the decision to keep Salamanca out of the water this year

just in case they tried to lock us down again, we did give her a check over to ensure she

was OK.

Instead we ordered a couple of Lone Rider Moto tents and to go off camping for a few

days on the bikes, our old tents had pretty much had it, but all the other camping gear was

still in good order, so we set off into the New Forest, after the first night we came to the

conclusion that these tents were called Lone Rider for a reason, so we called it a day and

went home to order two more of these tents, as they were pretty good.

Take two a couple of days later after the other two tents arrived, we set off once again for

the New Forest for a few days camping and filming. We erected the tents in good military

order and had them set in a neat line, having parked the bikes inside them. We had set up

a couple of cameras on slow motion to capture the build, watching it back was so funny.

Camping was fun so instead of heading for home we headed for Lands End with a couple

of stopovers on the way there and on the way back. When we posted these videos they

had a fantastic response with lots of nice comments, people wanted to see more of this

content. At this time there were still many restrictions on travelling abroad so for now

we just stayed in the UK but we were going to Sweden for Christmas, whatever no matter

what.For the remainder of the year as things slowly started to get back to some sort of normality,

we started to reduce the live shows we did but continued with the mental health shows to

discuss the effects that lockdown had on people, especially veterans, for some reason it had

affected more veterans than any other of the population, I guess that if they were alone more

then civilians and having been so active before and the restrictions made it so much worse.

When Doris, Wendy, Tom, Jimmy and Mary left us to return to their flats the ‘Old Manor

House’ felt a bit empty, so we decided to hold a dinner party and invite lot of friends over and

got the college girls in to help out, it was a great success.

While going about I did find it strange that some people were still wearing masks of paper

or cloth, very odd considering it was an airborne virus and these were absolutely useless, it

would be years before some people realised the errors of their ways.

We finally managed to book a track day in September at Silverstone for the now not so new

V4Rs, we were like coiled springs and couldn’t wait to get back on track with these monsters,

we had them all serviced and we each had our own that we could set up just how we wanted

them. Each bike was fitted with loads of sensors to record all manor of things to set up the

bikes for best performance for our individual riding style.

These sensors measured all sort of things like, brake pressure, throttle response, lean angle

you could also see suspension travel and adjust to the rider, you could also compare with

other riders and see how the different riding styles are, we even had small ajustments to our

riding style to go a little quicker, we had much to learn.

Over the last few months we learnt how to use this new software and from that set up the bikes

to our own riding style, something we had never before considered. Arriving at Silverstone

we unloaded the bikes into the garage got them checked and put the tyre warmers on, got

dressed into our leathers and hooked up the computer to zero the bikes before going out on

the first laps.

Coming in after the first twenty laps the bikes were connected to the computer and analysed

and new settings set on just how we rode them to adjust to our style of riding, what a difference

it made, double checking after the second twenty laps and some minor adjustments the bikes

were set up to us individually. We then were able to go out and ride together and get some

awesome footage as if we were racing that is after we put new tyres on them all.

Mapping the bikes to our individual riding style made such a marked difference to our lap

times was unbelievable, we had personal best after personal best, what a day, what machines,

even though we were on the pace none of us thought about competing, even though we had

the top bikes to be competitive, for us it was just for fun, money didn’t come into it, although

we were highly competitive we had no desire to actually go full on racing.

During lock down we had lost a few friends, not because of covid but because they had

taken their own lives through isolation, this was inexcusable on the part of the Government,

although we were labelled conspiracy theorists we blamed them for these needless deaths.We had a very sad phone call from Henry saying that Claude and Edith had past away,

which was put down to covid within a day of each other, we were devastated even more

so in that we couldn’t go to the funeral, we did send flowers and our deepest sympathy.

We knew that the vineyard was in safe hands and would be handed down to Thomas and

Pierre eventually. We would visit when this was all over.

That Remembrance day was a difficult one, we went to Hornet and all four of us were asked

to lay wreaths for the Coastal Forces, then had lunch in the club after, much talk was about

Christmas and what people were doing for it, the club planned on a Christmas party and

the traditional staff drinks, we were taking all the family over to Sweden and to the lodge

that Sven was now running with his wife.

With luck 2022 would be a much better year for everyone, we had our sixty sixth birthday

and had all applied for our state pension and bus passes, not that we needed it, but odd to

think we were old age pensioners, we still thought we were in our prime.

The Telemark Championships didn’t take place because of the uncertainty so we just booked

to go to Italy for a couple of weeks skiing, then Sweden for Easter for a bit of touring.

Someone had a bright idea of doing the Dragon Rally in the middle of February, riding to

North Wales and camping for one night in a freezing muddy field. What were we thinking,

we loaded the Multistrada’s and left on Friday morning heading north.

We had booked into the Premier Inn in Colwyn for the night, Saturday morning we

reported to the Conwy & District Motorcycle Club for directions to the camp site, this was

the sixtieth anniversary rally, it must have been the wettest one ever, packing up Sunday

morning wasn’t much fun, packing away wet tents and kit, it didn’t stop raining all the way

home. We were shipping out at the end of the week, it took most of the week to dry out all

the kit.

We had booked to do some winter testing in Spain with the V4Rs, RGs, MVs and Manx,

so the whole team were booked, we even took Doris and Wendy for this trip. We had a

brilliant week and learnt so much about the V4Rs, with all the new technology had the

bikes set up to perfection. We even got Doris and Wendy to have a go on the 350s, they

did enjoy themselves, Tom, Jimmy and Mary also had a go on the Classics, with Mary she

had a go on one of the RGs, then challenged the boys to have a go as well, I think they shat

themselves. It was a wonderful week and over all too soon.

Very many times we were asked about the team behind us, so they all wanted to come on

the show and talk about themselves, including both Doris and Wendy, we all sat down and

worked out a schedule and how we would interview them, the plan was set and the promos

went out. We planned to have two of them at a time with the other two of us would sit out

in the control room and help manage the shows.The first show Vinka and Marlin had Doris and Wendy on the couch, we couldn’t keep up

with the comments or phone calls, it went on for three hours but finally we had to wind it up

but said they would be back again. Sure enough we went live on the Thursday with the same

team, what a massive response they had, the phone lines were hot and the comments didn’t

stop even after we went off air after four hours.

The next live Johan and I had Mary and Jimmy on, they got the same response as Doris and

Wendy, we could have gone on all night, the next live we changed Jimmy for Tom but kept

Mary and swapped out Johan for Vinka, it was like we just couldn’t do anything wrong. Over

the next few months twice a week we swapped around between all nine of us and did a four

hour show each evening.

Our audience had grown to over a million subscribers and we had by now several plaque’s from

YouTube, that is when we started getting requests to appear on live television programmes,

mainly Talk TV and GB News as commentators, at first we weren’t that interested but after

all the scandals over lockdown and what it had done to peoples mental health, that is when

we had a pop and had fun talking to the nation about the nonsense the Government were

spewing out, we had to say something.

We had made some friends with some of the journalists, the mistake was to invite them for

a weekend, they were ruthless with our wine cellar, they only got the one invite, but they did

keep inviting us back on their shows to comment on different stuff connected with mental

wellbeing.

After we returned from winter testing we booked for the family to ski at Easter in Sweden, so

booked flights and a couple of minibuses at the other end, we also took all our staff, including

the young girls as a thank you for all their hard work. We had a terrific week with fantastic

weather, it was so much fun.

On our return from Sweden we booked in a few dinner parties and sent invites out with

RSVP so we knew who was and who wasn’t coming, we also booked a few track days, and

put Salamanca back into the water and were planning a trip across the channel for a couple

of weeks. A busy time.

With everything booked we provisioned Salamanca and left on the tide and headed out of the

eastern end of the solent and on a westerly breeze out through the submarine barrier, sailing

along the coast passed Chichester harbour and through the Lou channel passing Boulder and

Street the two buoys at the start of the channel and continued east and kept just to the north

of East Borough Head buoy, arriving into Newhaven for an over night stop.

Next day we left with a favourable tide and wind to cross the channel to Dieppe for a day or

two to do some filming there, first we walked to the Canadian memorial, Le Memorial du 19

Aout 1942. Walking along the beach, it was so hard to imagine the terrible devastation that

happened here on that August 19th, 1942. We were especially moved by the memorials along

the beach to the Calgary soldiers who were stuck in tanks on the beach that fateful day. It wasgood to see the memorials to all the different regiments from across Canada who took part

in the raid kept in pristine condition.

Spending a couple of hours walking around the market was amazing, the amount of local

produce and fish which I guess was caught in British waters on sale, so we stocked up on

some fresh veg, it is funny just how quickly time flies, we just had over an hour in the

museum before it closed.

The Dieppe museum has been housed in the castle since 1923. The castle was first

constructed in the 14th century. The museum offers a pluridisciplinary collection of 2300

objects exhibited throughout 15 rooms. The collection is an extensive illustration of the

wealth created from the town’s maritime history and its port.

Next morning we slipped early with the tide and motor sailed along the coast to Fecamp, it

was only thirty miles and we were there just before lunch, which we had ashore. Our main

reason to visit here was the The Palais Benedictine Monastery to not only do the tour but

mainly to taste the B&B (Benedictine and Brandy). The one and only Benedictine distillery

in the world, you get to taste three different B&Bs but the Champaign Cognac is so smooth

we brought a couple of cases at €60 per bottle, this would go down great at dinner parties.

Missing out La Havre we went round to Honfleur for a few days, we had so much fun there,

just wandering about the old streets enjoying the cafe life, having wonderful meals out

and just relaxing in this old fishing port. There seemed to be a lot of Chinese or Japanese

tourists in the town, they must have been from a cruise ship.

With light winds for the next week forecast we took the decision to make for Saint Vaast

some sixty miles across the bay missing out on Ouistreham, timing was crucial for this

passage, it was going to take us some ten hours we needed to arrive about a couple of hours

before high tide, to ensure we had enough water to get over the mud, rocks and over the

bar at the entrance to the marina.

Its not until you look out at low tide that you actually realise just how critical it is to get

the tide right, but we were spot on with our timings and arrived with plenty of water and

ample time. We had a lovely couple of days here, we discovered a shop that had hidden

depths or should I say hidden wine cellars, where they kept the very special wines. They

had a few cases of vintage Pauillac we just couldn’t resist, I know it was expensive but for

special occasions, why not.

Our last port of call on this trip was Alderney as none of us had been there before and one

of the old Reserve Officers from our Psyops days ran the radio station there we wanted

to catch up with him. It was some forty five miles from Saint Vaast and this was the most

crucial passage of all, we needed to leave and arrive at slack water or we would be pushed

down the Alderney races, we made it as the sun was going down and picked up a buoy in

the harbour.In the morning we hopped into the dinghy and motored ashore and caught up with the

Colonel at the radio station, then he took us to lunch, after that he gave us a guided tour of

the island. We had a marvellous time and invited him and his wife on board for supper, a

chance to open a bottle of the Pauillac and a B&B after, we had to call the water taxi to take

them back to shore.

There were a few hours next day waiting for the tide so we headed ashore and did some

filming, we got some great footage of the defences from the Odeon and popped into the

museum as well, all in all a great little visit. We slipped the mooring ball in the afternoon and

headed for home. Some eighty miles later and passing through the Needles Channel we were

alongside Dolphin Pool just after lunch, we put Salamanca to bed and drove home.

We had a week left before our next track day, which gave us time for a quick dinner party

with a few friends. During the evening the conversation came round to talking about friends,

try as we may apart from family all of our friends are military, we couldn’t think of any civiv

friends, this had been true all of our working lives, for some reason we just never mixed with

civvies, not because we didn’t want too we just never had much opportunity.

The following week we had three track days starting on Monday up at Oulton Park in

Cheshire then Cadwell in Lincolnshire on Wednesday and finishing on Friday at Snetterton

in Norfolk, we would need a lot of tyres. We planned on only taking the V4Rs to make life

easier on ourselves. With all four bikes loaded in the covered trailer and the van almost full

with tyres, tools and our riding kit we set off on the Sunday afternoon.

Tom, Jimmy and Mary came up in the X5 and we booked into a hotel close by for the night,

we had an early breakfast and set off for the track. As normal we were allocated a garage and

went through the normal routine of getting the bikes checked and sound tested and tyre

warmers on before the safety brief, we were getting known by now so had no issues.

We had several pre recorded programmes in the can to release while we were away doing

stuff like this but we did work it that we could do at least one live a week for a couple of hours

from where ever we were, mainly just to keep our audience in the picture and to promote

what we had coming up.

Back at Cadwell park we use some new tyres with a slightly harder compound, there are two

massive right hand bends the first is as you exit Coppice and entre Charlies accelerating out

hard onto the Park Straight before laying into the long right at Park then accelerate hard again

as you exit Chris Curve before braking hard into the Gooseneck then accelerating through

Mansfield and up the Mountain getting airbourne before the Hall Bends then braking into

the Hairpin then a quick accelerate down and through Barn then full throttle to cross the

finish line, hard on tyres.

After our warm up laps we were averaging roughly sixty five miles an hour and topping out at

almost one hundred and thirty miles an hour down the straight, we even got airborne going

past the pits, this made great footage, especially when all four of us did it together, properscary but well controlled.

Initially we took it easy giving each other the space to find our way round the track, after

the first twenty laps we stopped for a wet and a chat, we then set out again, this time sticking

together like glue, we wanted to get a shot of all four of us in the air over the Mountain, I

think it was on lap eighteen that we finally got the money shot, totally amazing. When we

reviewed the footage later it was perfect.

Fortunately we only had to change tyres for the afternoon sessions, we just about make

them last the morning before they lost grip. We had such a brilliant day, the bikes were just

awesome and with the new mapping we were able to get them just how each of us wanted

them, of course we would have to set them up again for Oulton Park but at least we had the

base settings to work from.

Tuesday was an easy day driving over to the hotel outside Louth and ready for the next

morning. I am so glad we have kept up our fitness levels, riding these V4Rs is hard work,

they are proper riders bikes, not every rider can handle them as Casey Stoner proved back

in the day, these are a little easier to ride but they do need a lot of respect and guts to get

the best out of them.

We had been looking forward to bring the big Duc’s here ever since we had the classics

here, this circuit was going to be exciting, again we had the hard compound tyres as there

were three long right hand bends. After all the normal checks we were ready like coiled

springs to get going. With all comms checked, cameras in place and our first warm up laps

done it was time to get some serious footage.

Each of the bikes only needed minor changes, again we got away with only two sets of tyres

for the day. Back at the hotel that evening we were all exhausted and had an early night

after dinner. Next day we took a leisurely drive to Snetterton and the hotel for a relaxing

evening.

Normal drills next morning with an early breakfast then off to the track to set up for the

day. Snetterton is a fast track with some long sweeping right hand bends, fortunately we

had three sets of tyres left with the hard compound, this day we used them all. This is a very

technical track to ride, the Bomb Hole can catch one out but made for a great shot, the back

straight and start finish straight had some fantastic shots, with some clever editing of the

coming and going was most effective.

Fitting the last set of tyres for the last session was the right thing to do, the previous session

we had all had close calls and were sliding all over the place, there is such a difference to

new rubber, its amazing just how much grip you lose over a lot of laps, respect your limits

is absolute key and never push it. In all our years of riding not one of us has crashed on a

track day, which is no mean feat I can tell you.

From past experience we had a second night in the hotel before heading home on theSaturday morning. After washing down the bikes and putting them away we had a sauna that

afternoon before our guests arrived for the dinner and party in the now ‘The Salamanca Club’

as we call it in the cellar. What a brilliant evening had by all, we had a leisurely breakfast before

they all left on Sunday.

True to our word Doris, Wendy and Mary had invited some very special guests for this

particular weekend. Doris had invited an ex Air Vice Marshal an Air Commodore, and a

couple of ex Station Warrant Officers, Wendy invited The Second Sea Lord, a retired First

Sea Lord and a couple of Captains. Mary invited the current Director Special Forces, and the

Brigadier Intelligence Corps and the Corps RSM plus their wives. Fortunately five of their

wives didn’t come. We enlisted the help of the young girls to wait on.

Vinka and Marlin produced a meal fit for a king, there was some very interesting conversations

around the dinner table that evening, with fine wine and port before retiring down into ‘The

Salamanca Club’ I think they all had a great evening. Breakfast next morning was enjoyable,

after we gave them a dime tour of the Bike Shed, I think they were impressed.

After they all left we had a quite afternoon relaxing with a couple of beers in the hot tub, the

three girls were so thankful for giving them the opportunity to invite their former Bosses and

friends, for us it was the least we could do, they made our lives richer for them working for us,

its us that should thank them.

That summer we had another Garden Party, stipulating Mourning Suit’s only with mess dress

for the formal dinner in the evening, we had a camera set up to take official photos during the

day. We had the bike shed open for people to look around and later in the afternoon people

could take a sauna and hot tub before getting ready for the dinner in the evening. With our

friends they really appreciated our formal days, we think it’s like stepping back in history to

times gone by.

This could have, or should have been my life had I lived. This book is partly based on fact,

most of the characters are made up or based on real people, many of the events are real and

actually happened, as are the places depicted throughout the story. Much of these are drawn

from personal experiences from my brother Tim during his life and things he had done and

experienced or seen in his dreams in the parallel universe we both exist in. This would have

been an awesome life and I wished I had actually lived it...