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George Spenceley relives his army training days in the 1950's and the many friends and memories he recalls
One weekend I returned home on a weekend pass and I had to return to camp on the Tuesday morning. On the train back I met up with a couple of lads who had also been on leave. We decided to catch the milk train from Liverpool Street Station for Ipswich as it should get us back in time for morning parade.
The train stopped at almost every station along the line and consequently we arrived at the Naze with very little time to spare. We arrived back at the camp as the lads were going on to the parade ground.
The duty Sergeant refused to allow us to change into our uniform so we had to parade in our civvies and most of us were wearing teddy boy clothes! I was wearing blue shoes with inch thick crepe soles and a blue gabardine Macintosh.
Captain Francis was one of the very few officers that I met who had made his way up through the ranks. He was a very brave man having been awarded the Military Medal for duty in the face of the enemy during the war.
He drank a lot yet had a peculiar sense of humour. Before dismissing the parade he asked the Sergeant to have those men who were in civvies to appear before him in uniform immediately. We knew that although he was easy going he would punish us in his way.
He said he was appalled to see us on parade in civilian clothes. He looked across at the other lads, 'I believe that you two are drivers, you can each work an extra day as duty driver and as for you Spenceley you can't drive so you can whitewash the Guard room'.
Outside his office we thought we'd got of lightly but the other two lads felt it unfair that my punishment would only last for two hours whilst they had to do an extra twenty-four hours. I set about the job of whitewashing.
I'd almost finished when the door opened and in strolled the Captain, I could see that he had started on his whisky early and looking around the room he seemed less than pleased with my work.
'I can see I was mistaken to give you this job. You'll never make a painter. You should be given the same punishment as the other gunners and I give you a fortnight to pass your driving test, failure will mean more trouble for you'.
Before I could return the paint to the store a Lance Bombardier approached me saying, 'Hurry up, I have to take you on driver training'. He drove the vehicle to Boxted, a disused airfield just north of Colchester and there I spent the rest of the day doing what I wanted to do when I first joined the army, what a stroke of luck.
During the following two weeks I had intensive training. Most of the time I spent running the Officer around the countryside of Essex, calling on various pubs in the area. I waited outside while the Captain went in to have a chat with his friends and his usual tipple.
At certain places he would take a Jerry can of petrol from the back of the vehicle saying it was surplus to requirements. Who was I to question him?
Once he went to the bank on Colchester High Street for the weekly pay. He took with him a green canvas bag and said as he left the vehicle 'You stand outside the door of the bank and if anyone comes out with this bag hit them with the wheel brace, ask no questions'!
After about ten days I had to go to the stores accompanied by a Lieutenant, I noticed that he made notes about various things on a pad that he carried and he only spoke to me when giving instructions where I had to go. On the return journey just before entering the camp I stopped outside the guardroom and asked if he could give me a date for my driving test.
'Oh, your driving test. I'm pleased to tell you that you've just been on it. I'm also pleased with the standard of your driving. Before you tell anyone you must report to Captain Francis'. At that he walked away.
I didn't feel very confident as I knocked on the Captains door. On entering I could see that he was a little worse for wear with drink and I felt a sorry for him, especially as I knew the stories about his exploits in the war and the pressure that he had been under.
'How did you get on with the Lieutenant today' he asked, 'Very well Sir' I replied, 'he told me that you wanted to see me Sir'. He took a piece of paper from his desk and handed it to me and on it were a number of questions.
'See if you can answer them Spenceley'. I read through the list and gave what I thought were reasonable answers. 'Very well you have now passed your driving test, in future whenever and wherever I want a driver you will be expected to turn out for me. Whenever you are with me, whatever I do or say, you saw and heard nothing, understand?'
'Yes Sir' I replied thinking what an unusual thing to say and his next words were even more baffling. 'When you get out there tell my batman, Hill, that I'm in a bad mood and he's to keep out of my way. Don't think I've forgotten about the punishment I promised you. Take an extra spell as duty driver starting at 6 pm. tonight'.
I met his batman and I told him what he'd said, 'Oh don't worry about that he was in a bad mood yesterday. He'd looked inside the tea pot and saw some tea stains and when I walked in he threw the pot at me and told me to get out of his office, so I warned the lads to keep out of his way or else'.
George Spenceley, 2002
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