h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Frank

I have managed to get a legible photo on to one of my stories. It may amuse you. See my story entitled Penicillin guinea-pig.

Harold

Well done Harold,
Are you infering S/Majors are thick or sick of the sick. I heard every excuse invented when It was my turn to check sick parade.
The National service men among them must have had a degree in Fantasy as they invented excuses of visionary extravagance. If they had put as much effort into getting the vehicles and armour back on the road we would have emptied the workshops in a week.
The rough side of my tongue appeared to cure all but the walking dead.
It was with great difficulty that I kept a straight face as i listend to some of those tales.
"Sir, I think I have VD" and why do you think that. "Sir the spot on the end of my nose" (I had noticed) Where the hell have you had your nose that it would get VD. "Sir blushing, it was not my nose Sir that is a symtom" and who told you that, "Sir, half the barrack room" and there they were over the wall collapsing with laughter.
My gentle vocal tones shattered the wall and scattered the jokers and I allowed him to report sick.
You must have been a true Brit when covered in "Woad" the Celtic warriors did that to frighten the enemy. Your enemy seems to have been a floppy wristed Doctor.
Good picture it is nice to put faces to names, now I will always see you consorting with the enemy, the RAF but then he was your brother.
Keep posting Harold.
Regards Frank.

Frank

Don't forget that the sergeant-majors I came across were in the infantry, probably good at drill and discipline but not necessarily anything else. I do recall two in my last unit. A CSM who on his retirement became something in the House of Commons (usher?), dressed in tail coat and white tie, I think. After my demob he used to get me into the House of Coomons to sit in the Distinguished Strangers Gallery! The other one, the RSM, became a beefeater at the Tower of London. I remember some years ago visiting the tower with two of my children, who were then teenagers. They were quite impressed that I knew one of the beefeaters but were disappointed that he didn't recognise me. He thought I had been an officer. He was the RSM whom I remember when I was slightly drunk going up to him and saying something like 'Ooh look. The RSM' probably before falling down. That was at Guildford, the regimental depot of the regiment, which was right next door to the ATS training centre. We NCOs used to be invited to the ATS sergeants' mess. On this occasion I had drunk a mixture of drinks, ending with the ATS mess sergeant saying all she had left was some Bordeaux. I didn't know that what was but said I'd have some. It didn't mix well with the beer and whisky I'd previously had. I have a feeling that as a result, when I greeted him, I cuddled the RSM but I'm not sure, even now.

Harold

Frank.

There is an error in the last part of my message. It should read 'I didn't know what that was...' not 'I didn't know that what ...'


Harold

You cuddled the S/Major and lived? you must lead a charmed life Harold.
Dont forget I started in the infantry so knew the right vocabulary. My men listened intently to me because they never heard me swear and were always waiting for the slip up. I think they ran a book on what the word would be as well as the date time etc;-
They thought the day had come when one of the young mechanics ran down a line of tents with a D8 he started it up and the throttle lever was not connected as it should have been. He was so shocked he never thought about reaching under the hood and pulling the stop until three tents had gone.
There was total silence as I slowly walked up to him and you could here the intake of breath as I gently asked if he had hurt himself. He said no sir so I then described his life, parents and forbears without once using rough English, starting with "You jumped up never come down louse bound black enamelled son of a whore" and then really getting into my stride. He never did it again and the booky would not pay out because I never officially swore.
Such is life Harold.
Regards Frank.

Frank

Well. Perhaps cuddled is the wrong word for what happened with the RSM. I think 'clutched drunkenly' would probably be a better phrase. Don't forget that this took place at a party so I assume I was forgiven. In any case I was a Personnel Selection Sgt and I think the staff were a bit frightened of us as we seemed to have a direct line to the almighty War Office. There was a story about another unit where one of the recruits was absolutely hopeless and the officers and NCOs did not like the idea of his staying at the unit for the whole six weeks. In fact one of the officers in the Pesonnel Selection unit phoned the War Office and got him released at once. Thus the PS people were considered somewhat superhuman. I remember on one occasion being required for some reason to take all the forms that contained details of the recruits to the War Office. I had to give them to SP1L (ie Selection of Personnel section 1 Liaison). I went to Hobart House near Victoria Station in London with the forms, got a pass to go in, saw a door with SP1L on it and went in. In it was an ATS Sgt. So this was the great SP1L we had heard so much about.
As it happens many years later, when I was working for the National Coal Board, I was stationed at Hobart House, then the HQ of the NCB.
I was in the Industrial Relations Department and had to go round the coalfields doing odd bits of research. I remember once going to a colliery in Durham, it was Easington, I think. There were two of us and we spoke to the manager who, when we had finished, suggested we go to the canteen for a snack. The canteen was on two floors and we first went into the downstairs lavatory. Two miners were there, having just come off shift. They left and we found our way up to the canteen on the first floor. The canteen was empty except for the two miners we had just seen. They were standing against the counter, looking at us. As we approached the counter one of them said what sounded like 'Blah glah roo wahsy ...' It was Geordie language and it sounded very menacing. After a bit we were able to translate it. His words proved to be to the effect that there was a shorter way up from the lavatory.

Harold

Harold,
Out of interest Easington Collery is the only working pit left in County Durham and I do not think it has much longer to go.
Most of our pitmen ended up in places like Ollerton or other areas around Nottingham.
I suppose it is human history, they arrived in Durham following the opening of the mines from all parts of the Island then moved on.
One of the most beautiful areas of our Dales was once covered with lead mines. They are all gone now and only the ruins of what was once a thriving community remain.
Studying the industrial age I was amazed at the way the population moved to the next Clondike area. Middlesbrough was a small village on a marsh 200 years ago. They discovered iron ore in the cleveland hills and we got the iron mogols. Most of my initial relatives arrived from various parts and took root it is the way of things I guess.
I was looking into the history of a local area for a relative and discovered it arose from a greenfield site thrived and then went back in just over eighty years. There is nothing left of what was literally a small town that was founded on iron and the railways. Are we all gypsy's Harold, it must be in the blood and the reason we make good soldiers and seamen. What of the future I ask?
Regards Frank.

Frank

Your reference to Middlesbrough provided me with two memories.
First. When I was studying economic and social history I seem to remember that, in discussions of town growth, Middlesbrough was mentioned as being no more than a series of mud flats before about 1840. Would that be right?
Second. When I was stationed in Helmsley I used to visit a Jewish family in Middlesbrough and sort of courted the daughter whose name was Hilda. When I went home on leave to London she came with me and stayed at my parents' place. My sister and brother named her 'the fire engine'. That was becaue she was dressed in red and, they said, came rushing in and running about, all busy.
Our relationship did not blossom.
There used to be a number of thriving Jewish communities in the north-east - Newcastle, Sunderland, Durham, Gateshead, and others. Most have declined and some have disappeared. Gateshead, oddly enough, has a very orthodox community.

Best wishes
Harold

You are right Harold Middlesbrough was only mud flats at that time. The access to the River Tees was what the iron masters wanted so they could export the iron they made.
It expanded very rapidly from there with Stockton and Thornaby being large iron makers too.
The Ropners arrived and took over the shipping finally building their own ships at Hartlepool and Stockton. They invented the all class or liberty type ship long before the Americans started to build them. The first liberty ships were taken from the Ropner patterns and built larger.
I remember going with my Father to where they were knocking down some of those first iron works and was present when they knocked down the big stack the last land mark of Whitwells iron works. The bessemer steel makers had finished the old style works off that was in 1937-8.
All those old works are now gone with only Corus at Redcar and that is wobbling.
I think you will find there is still a large Jewish community around here only they do not advertise the fact. Many of them moved out to the villages around the area but they are there.
I dont blame them for taking it quietly even a Stockton lad going to Middlesbrough had a chance of being tarred and feathered. I was OK having relatives in both camps some coming from North Ormesby or Doggy as it was called locally. No one upset those wild boys so I had a passport to being safe.
Stockton goes back to Saxon times and was mentioned in the Bolden Book of 1183 the Palatinate of Durham kept their own kind of Doomsday book.
A market Charter was given in1310 and we got the first customs house in 1680.
The Stockton Darlington Railway 1825 was the key to a fast expansion from agricultural to engineering products and after reaching its zenith in the 40-50-60 period it is now on its way back downhill. That is my oppinion but not the counsellors who want to close the best theatre in the area and build a supermarket, they think they are wonderful, I am waiting for the next election.
Regards Frank.