At intervals of about four weeks, there took place an event known as an Adjutants Drill Parade. This involved the whole battalion, drawn up on the square in its six constituent companies in the order, from the front, “A”, “B”, “C”, “D”, “Support” and “H.Q.”. The Regimental Band was also on parade, which added considerably to the occasion. Anyone who has been in the services will tell you how much more bearable it is to march to the sound of a band.
We paraded at 08.00 hrs and spent the next couple of hours marching hither and thither and generally doing all the things an infantry battalion does at such times. These days had one compensation in particular, which was that we all knew there would be no inspection, as this was a time-consuming process and the Adjutant was anxious to press on with the parade. With this comforting thought, we all took the previous evening off from blancoing, brass polishing and other forms of “bullshit” and a good percentage also neglected to shave in the morning.
On the day prior to one of these occasions, I had reported sick with some minor ailment, probably fictitious, and the M.O. in his wisdom had assigned me to “light duties” which had the effect of my being excused drill! I was, therefore able to watch the parade from the relative comfort of my room, up on the third floor. I was in the company of a few other skivers, and we had to take care not to be seen at the windows.
The R.S.M. called the parade to attention and turned to hand over to the officer-in-charge. Onto the square marched, not the Adjutant, Captain Fennel, as expected, but instead, the Commanding Officer, Lt. Colonel Sleeman. Accompanied by a retinue including the Adjutant, the R.S.M. and various other officers and warrant-officers he approached the front rank of “A” company and began to inspect the poor, unsuspecting sods in the ranks!
From the safety of our position behind the windows, we immediately realised what this meant for the blokes out there. I think he had reached about the third man when this worthy took one pace forward, two other men fell-in, in front and behind him and “escort and accused” were marched rapidly away to the guardroom. This was just the start. About one in three of all the blokes on the parade were marched off to the cells in this way. In many cases those who had acted as escort, returned to the square, only to be marched away themselves. I don’t think the Drill Parade ever got under way but I do know that we lucky devils who were not taking part were absolutely convulsed at the spectacle unfolding below us. I took a circuitous route down to the garages and hid in my truck until it had all blown over. I can tell you for certain that I would have gone “Where the birds won’t shit on you, Laddie” if I had been out there that morning!