Although I was initially drafted into “B” Company, I was told that I would not be training with them, but would be attached to Support Company to be trained as a driver. I therefore reported to Support Company garages each morning for about one week. It was soon discovered that, although I had not passed a driving test, I needed but little training. I was therefore attached to the last three days of a driving cadre. The vehicle being used for this was the ubiquitous Bedford QL 3-tonner, which will be familiar to anyone who was in the army between 1940 and 1960.
The “instructor”, for want of a better description, was a bullying bastard of a corporal, whose presence beside one in the cab ensured that no mistakes were made! At the end of this period I took my driving test in an Austin 1-tonner, with the most primitve of “crash” (non-synchromesh) gearboxes. However, I mastered this piece of engineering and thought I had done quite well on my tour of the streets between Minden and Bückeburg. The examiner, a sergeant, told me drive to back to the camp, and as I turned in at the gate, said to me, “When you drive into the camp you must always stop at the guardroom.” Therefore, when we paraded in front of him at the M.T. office, to hear our results, I knew already that I had passed.
Whilst this was going on the whole battalion was in a state of nerves due to a major external inspection which was about to take place. On the fateful day, each platoon would be told in what manner of dress to parade and given 30 minutes to prepare. It could be Best Battle Dress, Battle Order, Full Service, Marching Order, 2nd Best Battle Dress, Greatcoats and Battle Dress, P.T. Kit or a Full Kit Layout. As no-one knew until 30 minutes before, then it will be apparent to the reader that everyone had to be ready for anything, and so every item of kit and clothing had to be prepared to the highest standard. Except mine! I didn’t belong to “B” Coy, so I was told to make myself scarce. I didn’t belong, either, to Support Coy, so I stayed away from there, explaining that I had to be in the ranks of “B” Coy.
In the event the chaps in my platoon were told to parade in greatcoats. One of them came to me and asked if he could borrow my greatcoat as his was not very smart. I agreed to this, but counselled against it as I had not pressed it or cleaned the buttons. Anyway, he foolishly went ahead with this plan and came back threatening me with all manner of dire retribution because he’d been put on a charge because his (my) greatcoat was adjudged to be “not up to standard”! I did tell him!