Having completed our 19 weeks basic and Combat Engineer training[i], the big day arrived, we were all tense and nervous, pacing up and down, taking extreme care not to scratch our bulled up highly polished best boots.  These boots we had never worn.  They had been lovingly worked upon most evenings and weekends for several months.  To get a scratch on the toe-caps now, before the Pass Off Parade would be a catastrophe of unprecedented proportions. Our Training Cpls[ii] gave us the once over, then a twice over. Sgt[iii] Steel turned up looking immaculate, and he also gave us a once over.  He looked more nervous than we did. 

 

Peter, let me into a little secret, swearing me to keep hush-hush, he opened his suitcase from under his bed and took out a padded envelope.  Making sure we could not be seen he opened it.  Inside was a silver photograph frame containing the photograph of Sgt Steel’s twins.  The one that had been posted on the Party Notice Board, together with a note of thanks, after we had clubbed together to buy Mrs Steel some flowers and chocolates shortly after the twins were born. The frame was engraved ‘In Appreciation‘, on the first line then, ‘Room 1, 125 Training Party’ beneath it. 

 “So it was you who nicked it?” I accused.

“Well, I couldn’t very well ask him for it could I?” he responded.

“Trust you to think of that, Peter”, I told him, “good idea though!”

“I just hope he likes it”, replied Peter.

 

There were loads of families and friends gathered on two stands either side of the parade ground.  Between these, on the far side, was a smaller stand with a dozen or so Officers and their families.  In front of this was the saluting dais.   We heard Sgt Steel call us out on Parade, with hearts pounding, and not without some emotion we all made our way out of the Spider.  The Spider 10, which, in just two or three hours, we must vacate and go our separate ways.  “Your family here?” Peter whispered. 

“No, they couldn’t afford the fairs”, I whispered back. 

“Welcome to join me, after the parade” he said. 

“Thanks, Love to” I told him.

“Parade! Parade, Shun!” Shouted Sgt Steel.

“By the Right, Right Turn!   By the Front, Quick March” There were three loud thumps from the base drum in the Royal Engineer Band that had positioned themselves in front of us.  We were away.  I could not possibly count the numerous parades I have taken part in all over the world during the next twenty-four plus years, they were always a thrill, but none, not one, ever came close to matching that band on that day.

 

As we marched around the square that day, from the corner of my eyes, I searched the crowds in the vain hope that someone, or Jamie, had managed to get down to the Pass Off parade.  I searched in vain.  Forty minutes later, having taken the Royal Salute, we marched past the Saluting Dais for the last time and to the tune of ‘Wings’ we marched off the Parade Ground for the last time.  We were halted outside Spider 10.  Inside were just empty lockers, bedsprings, and piles of suitcases, ready to be collected.

 “To your duties” hollered Sgt Steel “Fall Out”.  Practically everyone turned to make there way back to the area of the Parade Ground where there was snacks and drinks made ready for our families and us.

“Room One,” Peter called out, “As you were!” 

The nineteen young lads from room one gathered around Peter.  Peter handed Sgt Steel the padded envelope. 

“Thanks Sarg[iv]” he said. “We couldn’t have asked for a better Troop Sgt”

Sgt Steel coughed, slid out the silver photograph frame with the picture of his kids.  He turned it around to read the brief inscription. I swear that his eyes were watering. A tear trickled and he wiped his cheek.  I wiped mine too, and so did several others.

“You were the biggest load of time wasters and reprobates I have ever had the misfortune to have to try to turn into soldiers,” he shouted at us. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.  “Now piss off, the lot of yer” and with that he tucked his photo frame under his arm and walked back to his office[v].

“Come on Ricky” said Peter giving me a nudge.  “We are missing the Party!” Now totally unconcerned about our best boots, we ran back to the Parade Ground.  As Peter and I approached the beer tent we saw a tall, well to do, looking Officer emerge, flat cap, tweed jacket with leather elbows, and wearing jodhpurs.  Peter came to attention and saluted the old gent. “No need for that son”, he said.

Peter turned to me “This is Ricky Houghton, remember, I told you about him”

“How could I possibly forget?” he said, putting out his hand and giving me a firm handshake.

“Met with old Miller!” Peter’s father told me[vi].

“Old Miller?”

“Yes, Old Miller, you waited on for him the once!” he told me.

“Oh, that Old Miller?”

“Yes, said you are a proper card![vii]” laughed Colonel Duncan-Forbes!  He gave my shoulder a friendly punch!

“Poor old Provost[viii] Sgt eh!” he chuckled, and gave me a sly wink.  “Come along old bean lets have a drink!”

Colonel Duncan-Forbes was a card himself and no slouch at putting away the beer either.  Towards mid afternoon most families had disappeared, taking their offspring with them.  There was a works party off to one side waiting patiently to start taking down the beer tent. The stands and Saluting Dais had long since gone.  In the end it was Peter who insisted that the partying was over.  He shook my hand, gave me a hug and a few pats on the back and said.  “See you around, Ricky”. He then took his Colonel Daddy by the arm and led him off unsteadily in the general direction of his chauffer driven car.

 

I stood on the edge of the parade ground for a moment or two, turning full circle, taking in the cookhouse, the guardroom, the medical centre in the distance and Spider 10.  The works party began dismantling the beer tents.  I had reserves; I had a bottle stuffed into each of my trouser pockets.  I took a leisurely stroll back to Spider 10. 

When I walked in I took a last look at the Troop Notice Board.  Everything that related to 125 Training Party had been removed.  The door to the Troop Office was slightly ajar as usual.

“A week next Monday” Sgt Steel was telling someone “126 Training Party will form up in the Transit Block,

“Seems like a bloody conveyor belt doesn’t it Sgt,” One of the Cpls said.

“Yeah, I know” replied Sgt Steel, “But if they’re ‘alf as good as the last lot we’ll be fine”

I scurried away, collected my suitcase, which still sat on the bedsprings of my old bed, and hurried out of the building. Five minutes later, I was on the back of a three-ton truck, heading towards Cove Railway Station[ix]. 

 

I had been given one week’s embarkation leave and two weeks privilege leave[x]. I would normally have flown to RAF Gutersloh at the end of the three weeks.  Sadly, I didn’t want to spend more than a week of my leave at home.  I was eager to get to Germany as quickly as possible. So there I was, less than twenty-four hours after, what I considered to be, a magnificent Passing Out Parade, I was sitting in the Cross with Muth[xi], Dad, Kev and Don.  Don had just met a young lady, not really old enough to be in a pub either, but she sat with us, sipping lemonade. Her name was Reenie.  I took to Reenie right away and I could see that Don was absolutely stricken by her, their eyes constantly meeting across the table.  She was smiling demurely.  “Oh Oh!” I thought to myself “it looks like ah Don has been caught hook line and sinker”. Where their romance was leading I had no doubt. 

 

Unfortunately, I demonstrated my approval and enthusiasm for Reenie by holding her hand the last hundred yards or so as we approached home. It was not a conscious act.  I had not even realised I had taken her hand in the first place.  And I certainly didn’t realise that Don was walking two steps behind us with steam coming out of his ears!  As we approached our front door, from Don’s perspective, enough was enough! He stepped between Reenie and I, parted our hands, and pushed me backwards into and over the garden privet[xii].  I was totally taken aback! “What’s up with you?” I asked him incredulously.

“What’s up with me?” He shouted back! “What you doing holding her hand?”

“Nothing”, I replied, the implications suddenly dawning on me, “I, I, err . . .” But I couldn’t think of a rational explanation.  I rationalised it by my obvious delight at the prospect of gaining another sister!  Reenie and Muth were quick to reassure Don all was not as it seemed and that “Ricky had just had one too many and was being a bit soppy!”

I had only drawn my three weeks pay and left any ‘credits’[xiii] I had until I got to Germany. I was fairly well off.  I had still retained about five pounds worth of silver from my socks[xiv]! However, I was being careful not to blow my whole three weeks pay in the five and a half days I had remaining at home.  The family seemed to sense this and, believe it or not, we actually stayed in one night and sat in front of the television.  We watched Rawhide, Hancock’s Half Hour and Panorama.  With the exception of Kev all the family smoked.  I hadn’t realised just how much they smoked before I left home.  With Muth & Dad puffing away on their Woodbines every five minutes or so and Don’s Park Drive it was hard to see the TV through all the smoke.  “How come I had never noticed that before?” I wondered.

 

There had been no need for me to leave that Sunday lunchtime.  I could have left much later that evening and still have had plenty of time to catch my flight the next morning from RAF Swindon. But keen to get going, and after our traditional couple of pints in the Cross[xv] I caught the bus to Birmingham. I arrived at RAF Swindon a good seven hours before my flight.  The first five hours passed quickly enough.  I ate, had a couple of beers and read most of my J T Edson cowboy book.  But now, with just a couple of hours to go I began pacing up and down, the excitement and anticipation building.  At one point I even found myself doing little jumps up and down with the sheer excitement of it all.  “I, me, little Ricky Houghton, from Friar Park, was going to fly!”  I had seen aeroplanes before of course, on the television and as little silver specks crossing the sky trailing a tail of white cloud behind it.

 

When our group of passengers were finally called to the departure lounge I could barely contain myself any longer.  I kept giving out nervous little giggles.  I just could not help it! I was smiling that much, the top of my head was in danger of falling backward. “I want a window seat, I want a window seat”, I kept telling myself.  I repeated over and over lest I forget to tell the airhostess that I wanted a window seat!  When we finally walked up those steps and onto the aircraft I blurted it out. “Please may I have a window seat?”

“Identity card, please Sir” asked a male Steward. I looked over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t talking to someone else.

“Yes, you Sir, Identity Card please”, he confirmed.   I took it from my left breast pocket and thrust it under his nose.

“Thank you, Sir,” He said, taking it from my hand and moving it away from his face a little so that he could focus his eyes on it.

“That’s fine, Sir”, he said. I snatched the card from him and took the last few steps onto the aircraft two at a time. At the entrance of the aircraft I gazed, open mouthed up and down aisle. “Welcome aboard”, said the most beautiful of all angels.  It was difficult tearing my eyes from her tight fitting white blouse and the outline of a flimsy white bra beneath.  I struggled to raise my eyes sufficiently to look at her smiling face.  Her lips decorated with bright red lipstick.

“Please may I have a window seat, Miss?” I asked her breathlessly.

“Certainly, Sir”, she replied, guiding me to a seat close to the front.  I sat next to the window.

“Don’t forget your seat belt, Sir”, she said.

“My what, Miss?”

“Your seat belt”, she said again, leaning across my torso and fiddling down by my left hip.  She pulled up one half of a seat belt.  She fished for the second half and clipped them together across my lap.  I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

“There we are, Sir,” she said, eyelids fluttering ten to the dozen, “are you settled now?”

“Yes, Miss”, I replied, already in love with her.  I was waving my knees back and forth in sheer anticipation, leaning backward and forward in my seat and rubbing my hands together endlessly.

“I’m going to flyyyyy!” I told her.

 

The announcements came. “We shall be travelling at a height of thirty thousand feet”

“Bloody Hell!” I told a man who had sat next to me, “thirty thousand feet!” Wriggling about excitedly. He gave me a funny look. “At six hundred and forty miles an hour”, continued the announcement.

“Six hundred and forty miles an hour!” I repeated “Woweee!”

We began to trundle along the runway, and then turned in readiness for take-off.  The engine noise increased.  My sheer excitement increased along with it.  The engine roared. I roared along with it.  I saw the Stewardess turn back to look at me.  She smiled again! We sped off down the runway.

“Lift-Off!” I shouted as the wheels left the runway.  I was utterly delighted at being able to fly. I did not know anyone, anywhere in Friar Park, who had ever flown or would ever dream of flying.  But I, Ricky Houghton was!”

 

My face rarely left the passenger window, save for the odd sip of my half bottle of Merlot.  I was totally fascinated by the clouds beneath us.  During a brief break in the cloud over the Channel or the North Sea or somewhere, I spotted a speck on the sea, a sliver of silver white waves on either side of her bows. 

“Cor! Look at that!” I exclaimed, excitedly nudging my fellow passenger “down there, a boat!”

When I turned to look at him, he was dabbing at a coffee stain on his shirt and tie.

“What is the matter?” he asked crossly, “you not seen a ship before?”

“Not from this height I haven’t” I replied. He sighed and rolled his eyes at me impatiently.

“Would you mind sitting still?” he asked, “I’m trying to read!”

Bit I couldn’t sit still.  I was forward of the wings and had to twist around to see them.

“They’re bouncing up and down” I informed the unfortunate gentleman at my side.

“Look, the wings, they’re wobbling!” I said, giving him another nudge.

“They always wobble”, he informed me.

“I don’t mind them wobbling”, I laughed nervously, “so long as they don’t drop off!”

“They will not drop off!” he declared, “Now for Christ’s sake, sit still will you!”

I sat back, tried the overhead reading lights, they worked just fine.  I fiddled with the air conditioning, feeling the cool breeze on my face.  I tried the reading lights again – yep! Still working!  I tried the little red button, wondering what the little button was for.

“Bing Bong!” A red light came on.

“Bing Bong! Bing Bong!”  I tried desperately to turn off the glowing red light. The beautiful Stewardess appeared at my side.

“Do you want something?” she asked me, smiling sweetly.

“His bloody head looking at!” my disgruntled fellow passenger growled at her.

“Could I have some more wine please?” I asked her. I couldn’t think of anything else.

“I am afraid the Bar is closed now, Sir”, she replied, “We shall be landing shortly”.

“Landing shortly?” I asked.

“Yes, Sir, in about fifteen minutes”.

“Wow!” I exclaimed, “Did you hear that?” I asked my friend in the next seat.

“We’ll be landing in about fifteen minutes!”

The man took a deep breath, closed his book and stuffed it back into the briefcase at his feet.

“Thank God for that!” he declared

“Brilliant ‘innit?” I asked.

“Yeah, terrific!” He said.

 

The aircraft was dipping beneath the clouds to begin our descent. I became mesmerised by the sight of the tiny houses and cars and then finally the people, like ants, as we flew lower and lower. I couldn’t help a squeak of delight.  My friend in the next seat glared at me disapprovingly. When the wheels touched down I could hardly contain myself, undoing my seatbelt, kneeling on the seat and peering through the window.

“We have landed, we are here!” I shrilled delightedly. “We are in Germany, we have landed”. The Stewardess reappeared. “Please remain seated and fasten your seatbelt”, she told me.

I could barely wait to disembark; as we ground to a halt I began to squeeze past the man sitting next to me, unable to wait to see German soil for the first time.

“Take it easy will you”, my neighbour told me, “We have ages yet!”

“I know, I know, isn’t it great” I declared.

 

Before long I was shuffling down the aisle impatient to be off. Once in Arrivals my friend made a hasty retreat.  My Identity card checked I was directed to the Coach Park.  Outside the Arrivals there was a row of a dozen or so military coaches.  Clutching my small suitcase I walked slowly along the line of coaches until I found a coach with the sign ‘Osnabruck’ in the front window.  The coach was filling up fast but I did manage to get a window seat near the front.  There were only a couple of seats left, one next to me, and one just in front.  To my surprise my friend who sat next to me on the aeroplane climbed aboard.

“Oooeee” I waved, “fancy seeing you on my coach!” I called out.

“God!” he sighed, “give me strength”.  He scrutinised the length of the coach looking for a seat.  I pointed to the seat next to me, but he ignored me, taking the seat in front. I tapped him on the shoulder enthusiastically.

“Are you going to Osnabruck?” I asked him.  He grunted something like “worst luck”, and pulled his book from his briefcase.  He held it up for me to see, before opening it pointedly and settling down for a quick read as the coach moved away.