Recollections of Chris Neill

I had fallen into the trap of letting my hormones rule my head when I had volunteered to become a ‘Postie’. The ‘Postie’ trade presentation at the Junior Leader Regiment RE (JLRRE) Dover had consisted of a couple of guys spouting off about letters and courier ‘thingy me bobs’ and some rather good looking WOMEN (who apparently outnumbered the guys at Mill Hill) who had my complete attention. With dreams of having my own harem I duly chose to join the ‘Posties’.

Having spent 18 months cosseted within the JLRRE Dover you can imagine my mounting excitement of joining ‘man’s service’ and learning a trade whilst being surrounded by and outnumbered by loads of girls from the WRAC. I had elected to arrive on the Sunday prior to my B3 course starting on the Monday. Sunday morning I got up washed and dressed in my finest mufti. I pick up my suitcase and kit bag, duly waived goodbye to my mother, got on the train and set off on my journey. It being the mid seventies the train was filthy and I spent the whole journey trying not to get dirt on or crease my neatly pressed kit. Having negotiated the tube across London I found the Northern Line and got on another tube for Mill Hill East.

It was a warm spring day and you can picture my horror on arrival at Mill Hill East to see that I had to carry my kit up that Hill. With a deep breath I picked up my kit and off I went. ‘That’s handy a pub…’ No resist temptation and keep going. Not long after I reached the main entrance, now where do I go. A quick recce and off I went to the gate. There’s a Sapper on the gate, ‘I’ve just arrived for my B3 where do I report’. ‘Don’t know mate go to the Guardroom and ask there’.

Now I don’t know if any of other training Regiments were the same but at Dover the Guardroom was a place to avoid. It was the domain of the Regimental Police and of course ‘out of hours’ Guard Commanders both of which were permanent staff ‘mans service’ soldiers. A boy soldier who was not a guard duty only went to the Guard Room if they had been ordered to go there because of some misdemeanour and it normally meant that the staff on duty could have some ‘fun’, normally at your expense. Character building stuff they used to call it, nowadays of course it would be called bullying.

You can imagine the look of horror I gave the gate guard. ‘It’s all right mate it is just over there’ pointing to a door behind the gate box. I picked up my kit and went over to the guard room. I stopped outside and checked my self in the mirror; I didn’t want to give the guard commander any excuse to pick me up for not having my shirt tucked in properly etc…

I drew my self up to my full height, pulled my shoulders back, opened the guardroom door and marched in. Two steps inside the door I neatly came to a halt and standing rigidly to attention reported, ‘24435409 Sapper Neill reporting Corporal’. Expecting and fearing the worst you could have knocked me down with a feather when the corporal said ‘calm down, calm down, we don’t do none of that here, what’s your name again mate?’

Recollections of Roger Williams

It all started with a phone call whilst I was TDO on lates in the sorting office at Mill Hill. I was speaking to the Secretary to the Under Secretary for the Secretary of State for Defence. He was asking why the mail to the gulf was being delayed! I knew of no delays and informed him that there was no delay as the mail was leaving the depot every morning and being taken to RAF Lyneham for the daily flight out. He then insisted on speaking to the duty officer. The Duty Officer that day was not a Postal Officer and I pointed out that I was the Technical Duty Officer. He spoke to the duty Officer who only told him what I had already said.

The following day I was called in to see the OIC sorting office, who informed me that I was to report to the Directorate where I was to be informed of my new job. (Imagine my thoughts – I’d only been back at the depot less than a week) – the entire shift thought I was in trouble.

I was to go to RAF Lyneham to act as a liaison between the RAF and PCS. To insure all the mail went out on the correct flights, on the correct day. The logistics of it at that time were not too bad but the likelihood was that they could be phenomenal. I went to Lyneham not knowing what to expect. When I got there I found that where mail was leaving the depot on time it was not being given due priority at Lyneham and the result was complete chaos, it only took a couple of days to realise what was going on. It had to be sorted and then it was arranged that Mill Hill rang me with the weight and number of bags in the despatches prior to leaving Mill Hill. Thus allowing time for the Mail to be booked to the flights. Due to timings the mail was loaded on to the ramp of the Hercules aircraft.

During this time I was collecting information on flights from the UK to the Gulf, and for flights in the Gulf Theatre. This information was passed back to the depot to help with the planning of mail despatches and I was requesting mail to be sent from the Depot to catch the most appropriate flights. Every flight that left with mail on board was signalled to PCD RE, Directorate of Postal, Strike Command and all postal units in the Gulf, 2 PC Regt RE and too many others to remember. No one complained they got a signal they didn’t want to know about but the Girls in the Comcen were sick of me.

There was a certain amount of mistrust and animosity in the beginning and it was hard going. I was working out of the mover’s offices, sharing a desk; the only equipment I had was what I could carry in my own car from Mill Hill. At first I was living in Transit accommodation at the Hostel with people coming and going at all times of the day and night this was due to no room in the Sgts Mess. Conditions in the Movers hangers were not the cleanest or the warmest. When I eventually moved into the Sgts Mess, for my Days off a relief would be sent from Mill Hill who would then use my bunk until I came back. I was having to beg and borrow every bit of equipment and was on my own when I could have done with half a dozen Sappers. I eventually got very good working relationships with the RAF.

After 2 months it was decided that Lyneham was not able to continue with the current workload and RAF Brize Norton’s Aircraft were to handle the daily supply flights. So the Detachment was moved. Again I was to work alongside the RAF Mover’s, I had an office in the mover’s hanger same as at Lyneham I was passing on information of flights to the Ops room at the depot. With flights leaving Germany, arriving at Brize, the mail was loaded onto the same pallet of mail which left Germany in the morning – due to turn around times this was often left to me to remove the cargo net and rebuild the pallet with the mails from the UK. Planes flew a route Germany to Brize to the Gulf once in the Gulf there were two routes they followed, on even dates they went in one direction and on odd dates they went in the other. So post would arrive out there at different times every other day but I needed to advise the different units of this so that the right size wagon would arrive at the right time to offload the post.

Due to the quantity of mail now being moved the detachment size was increased from 1 Sgt to 2 Sgt’s and 3 OR’s. All Postal, bar 1 who was Lance Corporal John Nash from the Blues and Royals as a driver. At this time the volume of surface parcels was increasing, with many anonymous goodie parcels being addressed to a Sailor, a Soldier, a Airman. 40ft containers where being brought to Brize where the Detachment was in touch with RAF at High Wycombe requesting space on aircraft. Surface mail still didn’t have any priority so space was begged. RAF staff were not happy because of the extra work involved with loading pallets. Sometimes the flight time would be rapidly approaching and pallets would be left behind because there wasn’t time to load. Again the Detachment was increased in size with the arrival of 17 members from the TA (PCS).

Due to quantity now arriving at the depot it was decided that the containers would be stored at South Cerney which was central between both Lyneham and Brize Norton. This could only be done, as both Sgts were HGV 1 drivers, so these trailers were taken to either Airfield as and when space was available. Meaning that not only was I responsible for Duty rostas and all that goes with being responsible for the care of 15-18 Sappers and Junior NCOs but I was also responsible for making the Detachment work and I was driving HGV lorries through the Oxfordshire and Wiltshire Countryside in the dead of night and in rush hour traffic in fact I seem to recall going to work at 3am one day and not seeing the Transit block until 11pm 2 days later.

The detachment took over a hanger next to the main cargo hanger where we spent many hours loading pallets for different types of aircraft that the mover’s requested for flights. We had to work to strict sizes and weights and different types of pallet. We even loaded an aircraft ourselves due to workload of flights leaving for the Gulf.

Mill Hill would inform the detachment of the quantity of mail being despatched so that we could inform the RAF of the Number of bags and weight so that the aircraft loading could be worked out. All paper work was completed by the Detachment.

We had visits from various Sqn OCs who were surprised at the amount of mail we were handling. They also went away with details of how the mail was moved around so that they could let the families officers of units in Gulf know what was happening.

Towards the end it got very confusing with OP BFPO’s closing and containers still arriving from the depot, the containers were emptied, mail for BFPO’s, still open was despatched. The mail for closed BFPO’s put back on the container and returned to the depot. Plus we had the mail that did not reach the BFPO’s before they closed being returned. Then there were items being returned through the post, which shouldn’t be e.g. Hand grenades and ammunition and police sniffer dogs checked the mail for contraband before it could be released into the UK mail service.

DETACHMENT MEMBERS

Sgt Roger Williams RE SNCO i/c
Sgt Eddie Rea RE 2i/c
Spr Jock Taylor
Pte Mandie Lynch WRAC
Lcpl John Nash Blues and Royals Driver
And 17 members TA PCS

The Det was slowly disbanded after a very heavy period of long hours and hard graft. Leaving me to behind to clear up.

I received the BEM in the Gulf Honours List.

Recollections of Dave Muckle

I’ve put 1987 and I’m pretty sure I’m right, but if anyone knows different I’m sure they’ll tell me. In this year it was held at the Depot, and after having trials of sorts 2 Regt put a team in.

We travelled up on the Friday, taking the usual cases of liquid refreshment with us, and after dumping our gear in A block it was off to the NAAFI for a bevy. Surprisingly nothing much happened that first night, we met up with mates from the other Regts, and all had a good drink and went to bed about one-ish, after all we did have to get up and play footy in the morning.

Slightly overhung, we made it down to the pitch for the first game. I think we played 1 Regt and got beat, but we played 4 Regt next and stuffed them, I could have scored about 6 goals but couldn’t be arsed running up the other end of the pitch, so I hit them all long and missed. I do remember Jed Wright was their goalie-hopeless! The depot were doing their normal thing and beating everyone, but we didn’t have to worry about them until Sunday, so we let them enjoy their bit of fun.

I’m not sure who came up with the idea for that Saturday night, it could have been Scouse Winnett, Stan Hogg or Pete Bartle but it was a masterpiece. We had all taken lightweights, cam scarves, vests and boots with us, so that was one part of it ready. Once we were showered and changed we jumped into the mini bus and shot off to Wooleys in Finchley, straight to the toy section (and we found what we were looking for), WATER PISTOLS. Better than that they had Machine Gun Water Pistols, and they made the rat-tat-tat noise as well, result.

We got back to the block and dropped the gear off before going to tea. To this day NOBODY knew what we had planned, not even Dick Mackenzie who was our acting SSM, or Jim Dempsey SSM at Bulford. They knew something was going to happen, but WHAT!

The P*** Up, I mean Social Drinks were being held in the Viking Club, and we were supposed to be there for 8pm, but if we’d been on time we would have been seen and that would have spoilt the surprise. We all got ready in the gear we’d taken and ended up looking like 14 Rambo’s, there is a pic somewhere of us before we left-if anyone knows where please let me know, I’d love a copy. Then we set off to do the deadly deed- A SECTION ATTACK ON THE VIKING CLUB!!

We went straight into the bogs when we got there to make sure we were all LOADED and we knew who was going where. Scouse Winnett gave the word, or should I say screech and we were off, Stan Hogg hit the floor in front of the door to cover us while we piled in, GUNS BLAZING- I mean squirting! You should have seen the faces in the crowd, it was a picture, they didn’t know whether to larf or cry. Before we’d had time to get into our stride Dick Mackenzie came over and stopped us-BOO, a certain SSM who was in charge of footy at the Depot, I won’t give you his name in case I get retribution at the next Reunion-Harry Symms-bugger, wanted us to stop, so we did.

The good part of this though was that we had been told we couldn’t do anything until 10pm, but nobody else knew that-ha’ha, they thought it was all over. As you do in these circumstances, we decided to have a couple of drinks-or three, and by about quarter to ten we were on tender hooks. You know what it’s like clock watching, it seems to take forever, so we drew up a plan of action while we waited. The first bit was to get as many people wet as we could with the ammo we had left, if we’d gone to the bogs to load up they would have known something was coming. The second part of the plan was easy and contained only 3 words GET MEL BELLAMY.

I don’t know to this day why Mel was picked out, but I do remember someone saying he had just spent £30 on the shirt he was wearing, a lot of money in them days, so what the hell.

Bang on 10 Scouse screeched again and we all jumped up, lined ourselves up across the dance floor and opened fire. You should have seen them all diving for cover like a bunch of girlies scared of a little bit of water, and before you knew it our attention fell on Mel. The poor sod had nowhere to go and before he realised what was happening he was drenched. I can’t remember if Vanessa lept for cover or stood by her man, but we must have been good shots coz we didn’t seem to get her. As Mel does, he took it as a bit of fun, well what would you do with 14 people pointing guns at you, and the night went on.

The rest of the nights a bit of a blur, I can’t remember why but I think a Gorilla did a dooda in me gob the way it felt in the morning, and none of our guys were that hairy. I managed to get the keys to the mini bus back from one of the lads who’d scored the night before (thought I’d throw that bit in for a larf-it’s true!), and started getting ready for our first match of the day-against the Depot. Because Harry Symms had spoilt our fun the night before, and we knew how serious he was about the competition, we decided to get our own back!

I haven’t got a clue about breakfast, did we make or didn’t we, maybe someone can remind me coz I can’t remember. We had taken 2 strips with us, a Red one and a Yellow one, and while they looked ok on their own we decided we could improve the look. We took both strips out and mixed them up so we all had a yellow shirt, red shorts and a red and yellow sock each. On top of that we still had some cans left we had taken with us, so knowing the kind of reaction it would get from a certain person we decided we would turn up drinking them, and carrying the rest. The looks we got as we approached could have killed, but the lads thought it was a good larf so we weren’t too bothered.

Once we had been shouted at to get on the pitch to start the match, we finished our cans on the touchline and ran on-sort of. The game went the way everyone expected, we were getting beat but what the hell we were having a great weekend. Now I’m not sure about this bit, either Dick Mackenzie came on as a sub, or he was already on, but the game changed in a matter of seconds. Someone punted the ball high and long towards the Depot’s goal, it bounced up-I say hitting Dick on the head, but he’ll probably say it was played for, but anyway it went over the goalie and into the net.

Nobody had scored against the Depot all weekend and it was greeted with apoplexy, we charged up the field jumping on Dick’s back wondering how we’d managed to get a goal. Then it got nasty, 4 Regt who were watching from the side invaded the pitch! A certain SSm was highly dischuffed and started shouting at everyone to get off the pitch so the game could restart. Everyone was cheering, beer was being drunk, and all coz we’d done it, we’d scored against the Depot.

The rest of the competition passed quite peacefully after that. As usual the Depot won and got the cup, but we weren’t bothered, we’d had a fantastic weekend, a brilliant larf while we were at it, and I think everyone else had a good giggle at our harmless antics-Even Harry