How I came to join the Army
Created | Updated Mar 5, 2009
How I Came to Join the Army
So far, nothing in my life has ever been what you might call normal. How I came to join the army proved to be much the same.
I worked for a company called Radio Chassis, alongside my cousin Billy and another four lads in our section. This company once made the chassis for the old style radios, but at the time I was there it was a secret ordnance factory making the tail fins for two inch, three inch and 81mm mortar shells. Our job was to do all the lifting and carrying. Also, after the tails were made, we would file the burs off the tail fins.
At dinner time we would play darts, and discuss Life, the Universe and Everything, when one day in early January, 1966, someone said:
'We make the things. Let's learn how to use them!'
I think it was just for conversation originally, until my
cousin Billy replied:
'Why not?'
The following day we all set off to town during our dinner hour to enlist at the local Army Recruitment Centre.
We all took the induction test, after which we were loaded into a land rover and driven to a local doctor's surgery for our medical examination.
When we were returned to the recruitment centre, we all sat in silence; none of us knew what to do next. Then we were led into another room, and before an officer, we were given a soldier's Bible and told to raise our right hand. We looked at each other to see who would back out, but in a misty haze, we uttered the oath; our allegiance to
the Queen. Then one of the lads asked:
'What did we just do?'
Handing us a brand new shilling the sergeant replied:
'You've joined the army lads. You will be told when and where to report in the next week.'
We all walked out, then noticed it was well after dinner break, and we had to run back to work. During out afternoon break, we huddled outside discussing what we had done. How were we going to tell our families, let alone the boss?
At the time, Billy and his parents lived in the same house as me.
When he told his mother and the screeches of 'What?' and 'Are you mad?' could be heard down the street, my mother asked what Billy had done now.
'He's joined the army.'
'It will do him good,' said mother.
'So have I.'
There was silence, then:
'And how am I to manage without your money?'
She wasn't bothered about me enlisting, just that she wouldn't be receiving my wages every week. Even at the age of 19 years, I still had to tip up my pay packet and just get a few bob (shillings)for spending money.
She said, 'Your uncle Jack will get you out. He has mates who can arrange it.'
'No. I'm going!' I replied, and walked outside to get away from the flak.
When uncle Jack came home from work he just said:
'Let the lad go.'
He further surprised me by saying he would pay extra rent to make up the difference!
My 'papers' arrived on 17th January, 1966. I was to report to Strensall Camp at York. I walked through the gates the following afternoon and was directed to my new home, Imphal Barracks; named after the battle of Imphal, North East India, when British and Indian troops successfully repelled the Japanese in 1944.
On the day I arrived, I was taken for my kit... uniform, socks, vests, underwear, bedding etc., and billeted at the Queen Elizabeth Barracks. This proved to be a disappointingly short stay; most of my platoon had been deployed for physical exercise training (PE) and further education, so the following day I had to return all my kit and by 4 pm was on my way back home!
About four days later I came back from town to find I had received my
first ever telegram, but my mother had taken that pleasure away too. She
had opened and read it. I was informed that I had twelve hours to report back to barracks to start my basic training.
I enjoyed the short time I had in the army, even though I managed to get hit on the head during an exercise, which gave me blackouts for a few days. During the same period I was informed I might be a father,
that my younger sister had run off and got married, and then my mother had a serious heart attack. I was brought out of the army to be the family bread winner. After just five short months my world had fallen apart. Even after mother's health had returned they wouldn't take me back. Two regiments were being disbanded, so only school leavers were now being recruited.
After a year I decided to leave home and try life on my own, so I moved to Manchester. For the first few years I was fully employed, then similar to today, the crunch hit. The recession of the 1970s caused chaos everywhere, with industrial actions being taken. We had strikes in the car industry, coal miners' strikes; three day weeks were soon followed by fuel strikes causing power stations to limit electricity supplies nationwide.
Redundancies were soon to follow. It didn't matter how hard you worked, or what a good time-keeper you were; in those days it was 'Last in. First out'. This meant someone you always saw lazing around was ensured he would keep his job long after you had been 'sent down the road'.
I moved to Leicester, Sheffield and then Barnsley, but it was the same story... in work for a few weeks or months, and then out again. I returned to Bradford in 1979, and for the next decade the employment situation remained stagnant.
At last, in 1989 I managed to obtain permanent employment. It was five years later that my health began to deteriorate. I had the first of two heart attacks, then a stroke, and a recurring back problem which left me semi-disabled.
Now, I just take each day as it comes.
