George Spenceley relives his army training days in the 1950's and the many friends and memories he recalls.

While on exercise close to the Russian border we took time to visit the remains of 'Belsen' the prisoner of war camp were the bodies of thousands of innocent people laid buried in large mound's.

Belsan 1953

We walked around the area and the horror that I felt there I find difficult to put into words. There was a deathly silence surrounding the place, there were no birds singing and the few local folk that slowly walked among the mass graves just nodded to each other as if in despair.

Belsan POW Camp

On my travels to various parts of Germany I only came across one farmer who objected to us being there but he soon changed his attitude when our Officer brought in a group of high ranking Officers.

He'd been a Prussian Officer and they took him to one side and after a heated argument touching on topics of war one of our Officers shouted, 'Either you open the gates and give the British Army access or we shall drive through them to take up our positions in the yard'. The German reluctantly let us go through.

On returning to barracks I was promoted to Bombardier in Charge of Transport. My job included driving the battery Commanding Officer, Major Harding. He was a very quiet spoken man and I understood that he'd served in the Philippines during the war and still suffered from it.

Each morning I collected him from his home and brought him in for parade and once a week I would take his wife on a shopping excursion either to Dusseldorf, Essen or Wuppertal, its famous overhead rail passenger system was really worth seeing.

Mrs. Harding was pregnant at the time so I also took her to the military hospital for her regular medical checkups. You can imagine the ribbing I got from the other lads when I returned from one of those visits.I thought it a privilege to be trusted to act as chauffeur for the Major's wife.

Christmas time in the barracks in Germany was a very happy time although tinged with disappointment at not getting home. I received parcels from our Edna and one from Bam (Brenda in South Bank) her usual Christmas greetings.

Christmas day was made a special occasion and the custom in the army was that the Officers and Sergeants waited on the men. First thing in the morning they would bring round the morning tea laced with rum, not always appreciated by those suffering bad heads from the festivities of the previous evening.

Xmas Party 1953

Later at lunchtime they returned and served up the festive meal wearing silly party hats and there'd be a Father Xmas, we'd spend most of the afternoon sleeping it off.

My visit to Essen and Dusseldorf at Christmas was a must. Even though it was 1953 the streets were illuminated and shining extra bright, the shops had made every effort to portray a brighter future for the citizens.

I couldn't help feeling sorry for the ordinary folk. War is caused by power seekers and it's the ordinary man and woman and their children that suffer the consequences. The young boys and girls turned cartwheels in front of us soldiers as we strolled through the city then held out their hands begging for pennies.

My three years of service were coming to an end and Major Harding wanted me to sign on for a further three years. He even offered to send me to Larkhill on the Salisbury Plain at the School of Artillery to train to become a Sergeant but I declined his offer.

I've often thought how good it was to have someone who had confidence in my abilities and I wonder if I'd stayed on what would have happened to me, how far would I have got?

I found army life had many good points, it teaches young men comradeship, discipline and friendship. Shortly after I was demobbed the regiment moved from Germany to the Far East, to Kualar Lumpa, then after a brief spell there it was disbanded.

I was demobbed from Woolwich in London on my twenty-first birthday having served for three years.

George Spenceley, 2002