ColynB
09-07-07, 14:00
Way back in Munster, West Germany around 1967 John Pearson and myself (John later became my Daughter’s God-Father) were on a bit of a binge and had gone to see a movie, had a huge helping of Bokwurst & Chips and got totally wasted in some gasthof on the way back to camp.
Yup, we lost it….The camp I mean…..Our only command of the local language was to ask for Beer, Cigs and Petrol ( the usual squaddy language)!
Anyway, after wandering around in the pitch dark trying to find our way back (the battalion had just been moved from Iserlohn). Somewhere along the way I decided that there was too much fluid in the body and my eyesight was suffering under the pressure.
While John sat on a wall, I climbed over and, passing between a couple of cars, relieved my self. Next thing I was confronted by what I thought was a donkey, until it bared it’s teeth and turned out to be a huge DOG. Quickly putting myself together I squeezed under the highest vehicle I could find with the hound from hell on my heels. There were lights everywhere by this time. I could hear people shouting and dogs barking. In the light I could see a fence that was a few meters high around 50 meters away. Being a member of HM Forces, the sprint and the climb was in a days work, or so I thought.
Mustering up the courage, I emerged from the safety of the car and made a dash for the fence. I glanced over my shoulder to see where the dog was and got glimpse of two other dogs, blue lights and people with guns!!!
That was enough to spur anyone on and I think I cleared the fence in one leap. I found a series of ditches and after about an hour ended up in an area I was familiar with. I managed to make the barrack gate, and into the guardroom, bleeding, torn clothes and covered in mud. The NCO on Duty, Sgt Flemming, took one look at me and blurted out…BROOKES are you booking in or booking out?
I do believe that John explained the situation and got a lift back to camp!
John’s number was 24048597 and after he left the Battalion he re-enlisted in the RCT. I have no idea where he went to from there. If anyone ever comes across John Pearson from Wigton say hi.
He was also there in Blackpool with Ivan Melville and myself. We were in the Tower Zoo, again under the weather, when Ivan managed to get near a Bengal Tiger.
Being one of the only South Africans in the battalion he fancied himself as an expert on big cats. He stuck his hand in the cage and slapped the Tiger. It just sat there and glared at him. The second time was the problem. After getting Ivan to Victoria Hospital they managed to insert 28 stitches from his forearm to the tip of his middle finger………
I still have a few scars to show people.
Left Cheek Bone = Pint Dimple Glass.
Left Scalp above the hairline = Lockers Steel Bedside.
Left Leg = Spiral Fracture Tib & Fib Winter Warfare Training in Austria,
Broken Middle Finger Right Hand = Cargo Net Pirbright Assault Course (Fell Off).
Memory = Scarred for LIFE (whats left of them anyway, both the Memory and the Life)!
Colyn
Yup, we lost it….The camp I mean…..Our only command of the local language was to ask for Beer, Cigs and Petrol ( the usual squaddy language)!
Anyway, after wandering around in the pitch dark trying to find our way back (the battalion had just been moved from Iserlohn). Somewhere along the way I decided that there was too much fluid in the body and my eyesight was suffering under the pressure.
While John sat on a wall, I climbed over and, passing between a couple of cars, relieved my self. Next thing I was confronted by what I thought was a donkey, until it bared it’s teeth and turned out to be a huge DOG. Quickly putting myself together I squeezed under the highest vehicle I could find with the hound from hell on my heels. There were lights everywhere by this time. I could hear people shouting and dogs barking. In the light I could see a fence that was a few meters high around 50 meters away. Being a member of HM Forces, the sprint and the climb was in a days work, or so I thought.
Mustering up the courage, I emerged from the safety of the car and made a dash for the fence. I glanced over my shoulder to see where the dog was and got glimpse of two other dogs, blue lights and people with guns!!!
That was enough to spur anyone on and I think I cleared the fence in one leap. I found a series of ditches and after about an hour ended up in an area I was familiar with. I managed to make the barrack gate, and into the guardroom, bleeding, torn clothes and covered in mud. The NCO on Duty, Sgt Flemming, took one look at me and blurted out…BROOKES are you booking in or booking out?
I do believe that John explained the situation and got a lift back to camp!
John’s number was 24048597 and after he left the Battalion he re-enlisted in the RCT. I have no idea where he went to from there. If anyone ever comes across John Pearson from Wigton say hi.
He was also there in Blackpool with Ivan Melville and myself. We were in the Tower Zoo, again under the weather, when Ivan managed to get near a Bengal Tiger.
Being one of the only South Africans in the battalion he fancied himself as an expert on big cats. He stuck his hand in the cage and slapped the Tiger. It just sat there and glared at him. The second time was the problem. After getting Ivan to Victoria Hospital they managed to insert 28 stitches from his forearm to the tip of his middle finger………
I still have a few scars to show people.
Left Cheek Bone = Pint Dimple Glass.
Left Scalp above the hairline = Lockers Steel Bedside.
Left Leg = Spiral Fracture Tib & Fib Winter Warfare Training in Austria,
Broken Middle Finger Right Hand = Cargo Net Pirbright Assault Course (Fell Off).
Memory = Scarred for LIFE (whats left of them anyway, both the Memory and the Life)!
Colyn