Author Archives: Barrybloke
Whilst on collective training exercises, on the Luneberg Heath training area, we sometimes used an enormous camp known as Hohne. This, reputedly, had been the barracks which housed the guards who were employed at the infamous Bergen-Belsen concentration camp, during WW2. This melancholy relic of the Nazi regime was situated only a few kilometres away, […]
In early April of 1956, the battalion moved, en masse, from Minden back to the UK. On the day we were due to leave we had to vacate the barrack rooms, in order that they could be officially handed over to the vanguard of the South Dorset Regt. This meant that the whole of the […]
I have just come across this recording of Last Post being sounded and it brought back a very moving memory. I must point out that I am not, and never was a military man. I tolerated my National Service because I had no option, but, as my writings here show, it provided me with a […]
In 1994 we, Susan, Lee, John, Sarah and I took a fortnight’s holiday in Rastenberg, an area which had formerly been part of East Germany. It had been agreed that we would drive up to Minden during this holiday, so that I could revisit the barracks and town. We made an abortive first attempt at […]
On my return to civilian life I tried a variety of occupations, with varying degrees of satisfaction, either to myself or to my erstwhile employer. — Firstly, a couple of tales from my time as a conductor for London Transport. The first of these occurred one afternoon at Petts Wood, a very affluent and, to […]
In the early 1970s my wife, Susan and I bought a little touring caravan, which gave us considerable pleasure, and allowed us to become familiar with many parts of the country which we otherwise may never have seen. The children, Lee, John and Sarah all became experienced caravanners in their respective childhoods, and although we […]
I can remember being taught to ride a bike by my older brothers. The majority of these lessons took place at a remote edge of the local park, in the evening, when the park keeper had gone off duty! The grass was short and did me little harm in the inevitable crashes, which preceded my […]
When I left school at the age of fifteen, I went to work at a local garage. There I learnt to serve petrol, to squirt grease into the various points on the underside of a car and how to get cold, filthy and thoroughly miserable. I also learnt how ignorant, selfish and despicable an employer […]
It was an evening in late summer in about 1961, possibly a year either side. I lived in Halstead, a village between Orpington and Sevenoaks, lying just off what was then the A21, the London to Hastings road. I had, as transport, an ancient BSA M20 motorcycle and sidecar. It was not unusual for this […]
When I left the army I acquired my first “own” vehicle. What a monster. This was a Ford WOA2 V8 ex-WD staff car. The unladen weight was in the region of two tons, and it was equipped with mechanical brakes! Stopping required advance notification and this fact, combined with 3.6 litres and 85 B.H.P. under […]