A personal National Service 50th anniversary

6th December 2006 marks the 50th anniversary of an intake of National Servicemen to The Wiltshire Regiment - not an unusual event in itself, but significant for those whose civilian lives were interrupted for two years as soldiers. Ian Murray was one of this intake and he has written his reminiscences, presented below. He has managed to get in touch with others from the intake, but would love to hear from others.

Ten Weeks in Le Marchant Barracks

In the month of November 49 years ago, the time was drawing near when, at the request of the War Office, I would leave Edinburgh for Devizes where it had been decided that I should undertake infantry basic training prior to possible transfer to the Royal Army Educational Corps. The County of Wiltshire was unknown to me but I had read that its Regiment wore indented uniform buttons to commemorate the siege of Carrickfergus where soldiers of the 62nd Regiment having run out of musket ammunition fired their brass buttons at the French attacking force. This tradition while possibly true at one time had been overtaken by events.

In 1956, almost every man over 18 was required to wear a uniform and serve in the navy, army or air force for two years. There were defence establishments everywhere and trains were packed with servicemen joining units, being posted to new units at home or abroad, going on leave or training courses or even (you could tell by their expressions) going on demob leave at the end of two years. How the War Office organized this huge deployment of manpower on a continuous basis and fed, clothed, provided beds and paid them is beyond my comprehension. In addition, this army of conscripts had to be incorporated within units of professional servicemen.

At that time we seemed to be engulfed in an atmosphere of war. No sooner had the 1939 ? 45 War come to an end than Britain sent a considerable force to fight with the United Nations against the armies of North Korea and China. The fact that over 1000 British servicemen were killed and almost 2700 wounded between 1950 and 1953 scarcely gets a mention in the American history of the Korean War. Then there was a war against the Communist Malay Races Liberation Army which started in 1948 and was virtually over by 1958. 519 British military personnel were killed in Malaya. A guerilla campaign to drive the British out of Cyprus commenced in 1954. By mid 1956 there were 17,000 British Servicemen in Cyprus (including a battalion of Wiltshires). That emergency in which 99 British personnel lost their lives came to an end in 1959. As if these conflicts were not sufficient, the British Government combined with those of France and Israel to launch an assault on Egypt. This strange episode started on 29 October and fizzled out on 6 November 1956.

It was against this background that on 5 December I exchanged a travel warrant for a ticket to Devizes via London and, travelling overnight arrived at Le Marchant Barracks the following morning. There were thirteen other RAEC potentials from various parts of Britain including five from Scotland. Within about three hours of arrival we had been given a number (23357880) a set of denims to wear there and then, the rest of our kit and a regimental haircut. One of the recruits had arrived in a magnificent three piece light grey suit and a "DA" hair style ( it was the era of the "teddy boy"). I was told that he was the King of the Trowbridge Teds. His transformation to military conformity was dramatic!

In order to bring it home to us that life had changed, we were all confined to barracks for the weekend. We spent the time blancoing webbing, polishing brasses, removing the chrome finish from our boots (why was it put there in the first place?) and shrinking enormous berets to fit our skulls while making sure the leather headband was kept clear of the scalding water. I had the same feeling that I had experienced when leaving port to cross the North Sea: there was no way I could change my mind or the situation I found myself in. Those of us from distant parts destined for the RAEC were well outnumbered by recruits from Wiltshire and adjoining counties. We found that they accepted the strangers in their midst with good grace; there was never any feeling of "them and us". There is one act of kindness which I will always remember. About three weeks into basic training my boots had become water-logged so I had the bright idea of placing them against the stove overnight. When I put them on the next morning, the soles parted company with the uppers. The stitching had been destroyed by the intense heat. As I had damaged War Office property I knew I would be on a charge. A lad (we were all lads in these days) from Chippenham called Morgan saw my predicament and offered to take my boots home at the weekend and have them repaired by his father or father in law. He returned them to me on the Sunday evening perfectly re-stitched.

In 1956, the Defence Minister, Duncan Sandys, had introduced reforms to military discipline and we arrived in time to benefit from them. Unnecessary bull like polishing the soles of boots and painting coal white was stopped and any form of physical assault in the pursuit of enforcing discipline was outlawed. The Sandys reforms were taken seriously by the permanent staff and explained to the Louisburg Platoon by Sgt McQuaid the platoon sergeant. I should mention at this point that there was a second platoon known as the Pekin Platoon under the management of Sergeant Minty. The staff sergeant in charge of physical training, Staff Gorman, advised us that any recruit who thought he could take advantage of the change in the regime would be invited to put boxing gloves on for basic lessons in the art of self defence. When I was attached to the Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire Regiment, I met members of the sergeants mess who knew Staff Gorman from their days together in Cyprus and referred to him as " Muscles" Gorman. He spoke in a clipped west of Scotland English very much like Mr Mackay in TV's Porridge. The Junior NCOs who were responsible for day to day training, particularly in the use and maintenance of small arms, are shown in the front row of the Passing Out photograph with Sgt Minty and with Sgt McQuaid. It is worth recording that we were the first intake to be trained to fire the new self loading rifle otherwise known as the FN after the name of the factory in which it was manufactured. It was introduced to us in the last two weeks or so of training.

I thought and still think that the discipline was strict but both consistent and fair. There was a leavening of humour which helped. I suppose this ethos came from the top. The OC was Major Parsons whose cheerful demeanour gave the impression that he enjoyed army life with the implication that we should do likewise. The officer with whom we had most contact was Lt Hugh Canning who led by example. When we went on exercise on Salisbury Plain, the weather suddenly changed from sunshine to heavy rain followed by frost which froze our feet into our boots. We nevertheless tried to get some sleep lying on the bare ground. On wakening the next morning we found that Mr Canning had shared our discomfort and was already polishing his own boots.

That exercise was etched on the memory for reasons other than the lack of comfort. For the first (and last time) I had the experience of taking the pin from a hand grenade and holding this lethal weapon until commanded to throw it. The thought of the consequences of letting it fall passed through my mind. Another aspect of the exercise principally designed for those destined for Cyprus was house to house clearance which meant visiting the deserted village of Imber and staying there overnight. In those far-off days most of the stone built houses while damaged were at least standing whereas today pictures of Imber show that they have been replaced by concrete block buildings. The only building left intact then and now is the church which had been protected from possible damage.

The ten weeks I spent in Devizes brought about a change in the way I saw things. A university education had not prepared me for the demands of "good order and military discipline." However even if all one had was a bed, the space around it and a locker, barrack room life was agreeable possibly because it provided instant companionship. I thought that the meals were of a good standard and that is a great boost to morale. I recollect one occasion when early in our training, we took part in a paper chase (a cross country run marked by a trail of pieces of paper) which went badly wrong for those of us at the front. Instead of turning right we ran straight on. The race had started at 2pm and when darkness fell as we ran along the banks of the Kennet ? Avon Canal we were seriously lost. We were eventually rescued and taken back to the barracks in trucks. Some thoughtful superior had arranged for the cookhouse to remain open and evening meals had been kept for us. The downside of life in barracks for me was the constant repetition of the top ten tunes from Radio Luxembourg, the 6am bugle sounding reveille and 36 hour guard.duty.

The ten week basic training culminated in the Passing Out Parade for which there were several rehearsals under the command of the Regimental Sergeant Major who was unknown to us apart from having seen him cycling from his office to his quarters. I don't think we even knew his name. The Parade itself took place before a General and for the march past, the band played the Regimental March "The Vly" adapted from the Wiltshire folk song "The Vly be on the Turmets". Then we said our farewells to our fellow conscripts who would serve out their time with the Regiment in Cyprus. A day or two later we were transported to Devizes Station and the train to Beaconsfield and The Army School of Education.

This essay would not be complete without a note of how the Le Marchant connection followed us into civilian life. Iain Stewart from Glasgow came to my wedding and then married a friend of my wife whom he had met there. We have kept in touch over the years. Both he and I have made pilgrimages to the Barracks when nearby on holiday. I met Malcolm Moore when he was on holiday in Scotland and have recently resumed contact with him after an absence of many years. He enjoyed his service in Malaya but draws a veil over the rest of his time in uniform. I once met a roads engineer who worked in the Highlands who was wearing the regimental tie. He had served as a brother officer with Major Parsons during the War. Thanks to Lieutenant Hislop's class on regimental history, I was able to write to a literary magazine to give the origin of the description "Dressed to the nines". Incidentally I have never understood why the 99^th of Foot raised in Lanarkshire south of Glasgow were considered a suitable choice for amalgamation with the Wiltshires. How did the rank and file understand each other? Sydney Gibson originally from Burntisland in Fife and now so far south that any further he would be in the English Channel had two interesting encounters ? one in Gatwick Airport in 1961, where he was working for the Home Office, when he met Hugh Canning. They had a congenial conversation reminiscing about Devizes days. Sydney has also told me of an occasion when he was selected to propose a toast to the Government Minister responsible for the Home Office (Immigration and Nationality Department). Prior to dinner, he had a few words with the Minister, Sir Nicholas Baker, and discovered that he too had done his training at Le Marchant Barracks. Sydney decided to abandon his prepared text and recall their respective memories instead.

As a result of Iain Stewart's initiative, contact has been made with those mentioned above and in addition with Ken Vizard, also posted to Malaya, plus Ray Erasmus who, like Iain, Sydney and I, saw out his time in Germany.

IKM November 2005