Just recently life has been pretty average, no great adventures or escapades to write about, just plodding alongly average & tedious, then during some exchanges in one of the threads our Canadian contributor Eric, set me to thinking about some times & events spanning the ages & continents, sending me hurtling back to my callow years 21 & the World before me, ready for the plucking. (especially those parts of it that consisted of Ale, Women & fun)
Soldiers need to train, so with the limitations imposed by a wary populace & anxious City burghers better a place somewhere far, far, away & out of site & mind would be the optimum choice. So following this criteria Alberta Canada was chosen, then singled out was a sleepy little place called Suffield, whose nearest neighbours are the villagers at Ralston (3km) & the nearest major City located at Medicine Hat (50km) almost, but not quite far enough away for thirsty & randy Squaddies.
Over the years thousands of British service men have visited BATUS (British Army Training Unit Suffield) as exercise participants or permanent staff, the vast expanses of prairie are ideal for the lads & their commanders to shoot, explode & generally blow things up without someone coming along to have a gripe about their chickens being upset, their daughters, wives or grannies being proposition or offered in trade for some cases of Ale, at a push they'd be offered a box of 10 man compo too !
Anyway May/June 1986, I was one of those fortunates to make the trip, something like a 12 hour flight with a stop over in Keflavik US Airbase in Iceland, we were allowed off the plane for an hour to stretch our legs but were not allowed out of the departures to upset the local populace, so we made the most of it & did the touristy thing, some happy snaps (grey, foggy & bloody freezin') & of course the ubiquitous postcard. Trying to get the troops back aboard was like herding Cats, our accompanying monkeys & movers irate & oft abused eventually got us all back aboard, next stop Calgary Canada. (the poor unfortunates)
It was at Calgary International at a rather secluded & segregated section of the Airport that we first encountered the magnificent Canadian laid back attitude & friendliness, no one was shouting at us, they seemed genuinely pleased to see us & we weren't getting shaken down for bits nicked off the Aeroplane & they were actually smiling. A most unprecedented reception for gangs of troops it was usually "Ger on wi' yer, booger off you 'orrible urchins !" and stuff being thrown at us. (you can handle the chucked stuff if it's good kit, but it was normally bits of stick & half house bricks). We were then "shown" to the busses as opposed to being escorted for the 2 hour drive along the interstate to Suffield & our little house on the prairie for the next month or so.
Arrival was the usual Army hurry up & wait scenario & I was bundled into a Barracks with the Lads of 11 Sqn R.C.T. (despite travelling over with the Blues & Royals "Donkey wallopers" you just know with a name like that problems are a certainty) because being the same cap badge we weren't likely to try & kill each other unlike the Infantry or Cavalry. Many units have inspiring motto's and the like reflecting their derring do, military elan or some such guff "Death before dishonour" "Who dares wins" "Death or glory" all pretty terminal really, we preferred ours rather more though "Who cares who wins, as long as there's Beer" yep, the good old Rickshaws, Cabs & Taxis, tell it like it is motto.
Kit stowed we wanted out on the town but that wasn't happening, we had to have "The talk" first, this from officer Trudish R.C.M.P informing us as to how things went in his Town, (Medicine Hat) what we could & couldn't do & what was likely to happen should he have to let Officer Sam give us a little correctional advice. Offr. Trudish was also the unofficial Pox adviser, giving us a list of names of certain young ladies best avoided if we didn't want to be shipped off out into the middle of the prairie for infections treatment (Officer Sam by the way was a huge great slavering wolf thing, dignified with the title German shepherd, who had a liking for nipping cobs off the arse or the crotch of disruptive troops depending on which way you were running from the Mounties when he caught you .... which he inevitably did) & then there was the issue of getting there, 50 kms is a bit steep even for Squaddies.
So we had to stay in Barracks for the first weekend but Med Hat, would one day be graced by our presence. Monday was proper soldiering, assigned to vehicles & units then off onto the plains for 2 weeks. Days rolled into one another as we played "War" Infantry lads carried out fire & manoeuvre exercises with live ammo day & night, the marshals/red tops constantly keeping an eye on things. Now most of the Instructors are Infantry & can't abide the full of themselves Cavalry, so it was with much delight & malice aforethought that the Infanty were allowed to fire small arms at the battened down Armour (giving the lads a moving target). Oh how we chuckled when the Wallopers pulled their doss bags & rations out of the stowage bins & their gear was rather shredded. (that's what you get for being cruel to Donkeys) Of course accusations flew but all the RRW lads (Royal Regiment of Wales) just grinned & with 90% of them being hefty handy lads from the valleys & Rugby players to boot (all called Jones, Davies or Williams) the Cav contented themselves with bitching & whining from their Panzers.
We carried out rolling replen fuel, rations & munitions to the Armour & APC's, then when everyone was bombed up we'd scoot back to the base camp (a good 2+ hour drive if you went on the boundary road or near on 4 if you went over the range roads) filled up & loaded up, grab something from the "Gag & Puke" a burger bar on camp selling endless Coffee & half a cow in a bun with some onions & ketchup which we'd end up sharing with the lardy Gophers who'd hang around outside & mug you. Then head back out to your unit in the field. On occasion being allowed to play with things that made a god awful loud bang & made us quite happy we weren't facing some of this kit, we still had Chieftain as the MBT & to see a Sqn aline firing while moving the roar of the engines & the thundering rumble through the ground really impressive. Anyway after 2 weeks with the "Donkey Wallopers" & their orificers annoying us, we won the war & it was back to camp & 4 days stand down. (look out Med Hat)
While we'd been out in the Field enquiries had been made as to transport, we could hire a BATUS banger, usually some beat up old ford or buick for 50 Dollars, all we had to do was fill her up & roll, Med hat here we come ! Queues of freshly scrubbed cherubic little faces lining up to hire a banger to get down town & all the bright lights & delights of "The Sin Bin", "Ming tree", "Silver Buckle", "Cheetahs" ad delerium ! Oh happy days of quaffing & carousing & making the acquaintance of the ever so laid back Canadians.
Hopefully this will do you for now, the further adventures of soft lad in Canada will be recounted at a later date, enjoy
Thanks for reading .....
Pics clockwise from top left:- Iggy, Me, Brew time - BATUS Main Gate - Rolling replen of RRW APC's - Prairie Dog (Gopher)
Soldiers need to train, so with the limitations imposed by a wary populace & anxious City burghers better a place somewhere far, far, away & out of site & mind would be the optimum choice. So following this criteria Alberta Canada was chosen, then singled out was a sleepy little place called Suffield, whose nearest neighbours are the villagers at Ralston (3km) & the nearest major City located at Medicine Hat (50km) almost, but not quite far enough away for thirsty & randy Squaddies.
Over the years thousands of British service men have visited BATUS (British Army Training Unit Suffield) as exercise participants or permanent staff, the vast expanses of prairie are ideal for the lads & their commanders to shoot, explode & generally blow things up without someone coming along to have a gripe about their chickens being upset, their daughters, wives or grannies being proposition or offered in trade for some cases of Ale, at a push they'd be offered a box of 10 man compo too !
Anyway May/June 1986, I was one of those fortunates to make the trip, something like a 12 hour flight with a stop over in Keflavik US Airbase in Iceland, we were allowed off the plane for an hour to stretch our legs but were not allowed out of the departures to upset the local populace, so we made the most of it & did the touristy thing, some happy snaps (grey, foggy & bloody freezin') & of course the ubiquitous postcard. Trying to get the troops back aboard was like herding Cats, our accompanying monkeys & movers irate & oft abused eventually got us all back aboard, next stop Calgary Canada. (the poor unfortunates)
It was at Calgary International at a rather secluded & segregated section of the Airport that we first encountered the magnificent Canadian laid back attitude & friendliness, no one was shouting at us, they seemed genuinely pleased to see us & we weren't getting shaken down for bits nicked off the Aeroplane & they were actually smiling. A most unprecedented reception for gangs of troops it was usually "Ger on wi' yer, booger off you 'orrible urchins !" and stuff being thrown at us. (you can handle the chucked stuff if it's good kit, but it was normally bits of stick & half house bricks). We were then "shown" to the busses as opposed to being escorted for the 2 hour drive along the interstate to Suffield & our little house on the prairie for the next month or so.
Arrival was the usual Army hurry up & wait scenario & I was bundled into a Barracks with the Lads of 11 Sqn R.C.T. (despite travelling over with the Blues & Royals "Donkey wallopers" you just know with a name like that problems are a certainty) because being the same cap badge we weren't likely to try & kill each other unlike the Infantry or Cavalry. Many units have inspiring motto's and the like reflecting their derring do, military elan or some such guff "Death before dishonour" "Who dares wins" "Death or glory" all pretty terminal really, we preferred ours rather more though "Who cares who wins, as long as there's Beer" yep, the good old Rickshaws, Cabs & Taxis, tell it like it is motto.
Kit stowed we wanted out on the town but that wasn't happening, we had to have "The talk" first, this from officer Trudish R.C.M.P informing us as to how things went in his Town, (Medicine Hat) what we could & couldn't do & what was likely to happen should he have to let Officer Sam give us a little correctional advice. Offr. Trudish was also the unofficial Pox adviser, giving us a list of names of certain young ladies best avoided if we didn't want to be shipped off out into the middle of the prairie for infections treatment (Officer Sam by the way was a huge great slavering wolf thing, dignified with the title German shepherd, who had a liking for nipping cobs off the arse or the crotch of disruptive troops depending on which way you were running from the Mounties when he caught you .... which he inevitably did) & then there was the issue of getting there, 50 kms is a bit steep even for Squaddies.
So we had to stay in Barracks for the first weekend but Med Hat, would one day be graced by our presence. Monday was proper soldiering, assigned to vehicles & units then off onto the plains for 2 weeks. Days rolled into one another as we played "War" Infantry lads carried out fire & manoeuvre exercises with live ammo day & night, the marshals/red tops constantly keeping an eye on things. Now most of the Instructors are Infantry & can't abide the full of themselves Cavalry, so it was with much delight & malice aforethought that the Infanty were allowed to fire small arms at the battened down Armour (giving the lads a moving target). Oh how we chuckled when the Wallopers pulled their doss bags & rations out of the stowage bins & their gear was rather shredded. (that's what you get for being cruel to Donkeys) Of course accusations flew but all the RRW lads (Royal Regiment of Wales) just grinned & with 90% of them being hefty handy lads from the valleys & Rugby players to boot (all called Jones, Davies or Williams) the Cav contented themselves with bitching & whining from their Panzers.
We carried out rolling replen fuel, rations & munitions to the Armour & APC's, then when everyone was bombed up we'd scoot back to the base camp (a good 2+ hour drive if you went on the boundary road or near on 4 if you went over the range roads) filled up & loaded up, grab something from the "Gag & Puke" a burger bar on camp selling endless Coffee & half a cow in a bun with some onions & ketchup which we'd end up sharing with the lardy Gophers who'd hang around outside & mug you. Then head back out to your unit in the field. On occasion being allowed to play with things that made a god awful loud bang & made us quite happy we weren't facing some of this kit, we still had Chieftain as the MBT & to see a Sqn aline firing while moving the roar of the engines & the thundering rumble through the ground really impressive. Anyway after 2 weeks with the "Donkey Wallopers" & their orificers annoying us, we won the war & it was back to camp & 4 days stand down. (look out Med Hat)
While we'd been out in the Field enquiries had been made as to transport, we could hire a BATUS banger, usually some beat up old ford or buick for 50 Dollars, all we had to do was fill her up & roll, Med hat here we come ! Queues of freshly scrubbed cherubic little faces lining up to hire a banger to get down town & all the bright lights & delights of "The Sin Bin", "Ming tree", "Silver Buckle", "Cheetahs" ad delerium ! Oh happy days of quaffing & carousing & making the acquaintance of the ever so laid back Canadians.
Hopefully this will do you for now, the further adventures of soft lad in Canada will be recounted at a later date, enjoy
Thanks for reading .....
Pics clockwise from top left:- Iggy, Me, Brew time - BATUS Main Gate - Rolling replen of RRW APC's - Prairie Dog (Gopher)
