You may well be asking what the 'ell 'Pull up a Sandbag' is for? Well, quite simply it is for the ramblings of past and present members of N Bty.

I have a funny feeling this is going to be a bit of a hard slog because contrary to popular belief trying to get a story out of a squaddie (without them downing the appropriate number of pints) is like asking them for their last fag - i.e. damn near impossible.

However there is no harm in trying!

One of the most well known, true, stories relates to our old mate Freddie Figg, he say the world through rose tinted glasses - literally and with a great sense of humour. The trouble with Freddie was that along with the sense of humour went a lack of commonsense especially after he'd downed a few beers.

Just before we came back to the UK we were stationed in Dortmund, in a tip, and right next to the B1 a rather busy route through the city. One night Freddie had been in the Bty bar and then decided to go down town with a few others, this meant crossing the B1! One carriageway was negotiated successfully as were the tram track but this is where Freddie's luck ran out. Halfway across the second carriageway he saw two lights fast approaching - now faced with this then you or I might think let me shift, but this was not how Freddie's mind appeared to work. So for some reason only known to himself he thought the lights belonged to two motor bikes and that if he stood in the middle they would pass either side however they belonged to a car and the afore mentioned car hit him and put him hospital. Thankfully his injuries were not that serious.

I'm afraid he never lived that one down - but it didn't stop him drinking.

Pete Lawton has reminded me of an incident that occurred in Canada whilst we were trying to rid the country of Gophers using Abbots.

There we were trotting along minding our own business looking for somewhere to bung 6 Abbots and associated bits and pieces whilst trying to miss the few trees that littered the Prairie. It just so happened that we were following our intrepid GPO Lt. Gary Coward - if you remember he was never off the telly during Desert Storm. His driver, Steve Lilley who was never known to hang about, was trotting along at a fair rate when the door that the GPO was leaning on flew open quickly followed by Lt. Coward. Arms went one way legs went t'other and he rather bounced along until Steve could stop. Of course Steve then leapt out to render assistance to our fallen leader - well not quite he just fell in a gibbering heap and nearly killed himself laughing. John Horsley, the Svy Sgt, was a little more restrained and uttered words of concern whilst Lt. Coward dusted himself off whilst trying, unsuccessfully, to maintain his dignity. This was totally wasted on everyone as tears ran down our legs and Mick Small and myself buried our faces in the map. Pete kept his usual poise and nearly died.

But I liked Mr. Coward, I say he was the best GPO we had. He kept many a wolf from our door when we in charge of a Regimental Survey Scheme. The best thing was that he knew what our little team did and why - very few GPO's did.

Another story that has come flooding back to relates to our Freddie (again) and a Bty Parade. Now I'm not sure whether this is true as I didn't actually witness is but if you knew Freddie then you'll know that this could have his stamp on it!

Every now and then we used to have a Bty Parade on the square just opposite the offices. It was all posh(ish) with right markers and all the rest. On the day in question Freddie was the Right Marker with Digger Dowley the BSM. Once Digger had bellowed 'Right Marker' Freddie shot off on his 13 pace stroll and made a complete pigs ear of the whole thing. Digger, after a few choice words that called freddie's parentage into question, requested that Fred do it again. Fred was only too willing to oblige and retraced his steps. Nothing daft in that I here you mumble. However we are talking about Freddie and for some strange reason he marched back to his place backwards. As you might imagine the parade collapsed in a gibbering heap and the whole thing abandoned.

I'm not sure if anything happened to Freddie but I'm sure Digger thought of something suitable.

This one's from Mike Bounds - been giving me right earache about putting it in.

It is from the 2nd tour of N. Ireland - Long Kesh. Whilst the rest of the bty were baby sitting in camp 4 Troop (including me) were out in the rough and rugged County Down - it were great as it wasn't exactly bandit country apart from Downpatrick in the south of the county. Anyway I'll let Mike tell his story.....

it was when we were in the Maze Prison and doing area G, I was driving Ron Hewitt BSM, we were guarding one of the post offices in Bangor, up near the Tartan crowds estate, when they were issuing petrol Rationing Cards out, the post office had asked Ron if he would mind going to the general in bangor to get some more books, and that he would phone ahead, and let them know we were coming. So we drove down there, and couldn't find anywhere to park, so I decided to leave it by the back gate of the post office, I seen a fella working there and shouted to him 'If anyone wants to get out we will be about 10 mins'. So me and Ron walks to the front, and everyone was rushing out, so we helped get a few old ladies out and asked one of the staff whats the problem they said its a BOMB Scare! Where did you hear that from we said, the Army at the Back Gate said "We got 10 mins to get out". Anyway we sorted it out but not before all the customers dissapeared and most of the staff went home, and guess who got a riftin when we got back to camp?

© Richard Fox