Annual camp in 1974 was my POTS course. Although we were all pretty busy I managed to take some pictures (but not many). I had worked my way up the ranks at a steady but unspectacular rate, Recruit 1972, Trained man 1973, POTNCO 1974, Instructor Corporal 1975. I took a bit of a rest here and very much enjoyed my next 10 years as an NCO, the last few of which were as acting Sergeant. I think my officer’s course was in 1985 and I will elaborate on why I waited so long to accept the invitations to attend the course in a separate post.
Enough!, so carry on and have a look at the photos of 1974 and some comments thereon.
If I recall correctly our instructors were Eamon Doyle, John O’Toole and Vinny Roche. The course took place over a number of weekends and then for the duration of annual camp. Before the first weekend all students were issued with webbing, including backpack and we diligently put blanco (which was coloured green at this stage) onto it all. We also put biscuit tins into our backpacks in order that they keep their shape. Then it was button sticks out and all brasses polished to within an inch of their lives. The first parade in Rockbrae House and Vinny Roche took one look at the crease in my trousers and enquired as to why I had not ironed them. “But I did iron them, Corporal”, I responded. “so did I!”, says he, “can you see any difference?”. Well it has to be said his had a much better crease than mine.
The missing man
I have always claimed that I was set up on that first weekend. On the Sunday morning I was appointed orderly sergeant and fell the students in and marched them to mass on the Vevay Road. During the mass I heard a slight commotion behind me and saw a certain sergeant take Pte Jack Golden out of the church. Jack was going on a security detail to bring weapons out to Rockbrae. When mass was over I fell the parade back in, and realizing Jack was missing, I was arranging the three ranks to accommodate the empty space when NCOs began bawling with an indecent haste and volume about “Get those men out of here” etc etc. We marched back to barracks and then just before we fell out I was confronted – “How many men did you bring to Mass?”, “How many did you bring back?” “How did you manage to lose a man?”. The shouting continued – “Who is missing?”, “Private Golden sergeant”, “Where is he?”, “Sergeant X took him”, “Why”, “He is gone on security sergeant”. Well it was a lesson well learnt by everyone, but afterwards as I was being served dinner a certain other sergeant commented as I took my plate “I knew you would never amount to anything”. It was gratuitous and I have committed all the names to memory. Now that I am advancing in age I am beginning to suffer from Irish Alzheimer’s – I forget everything except the grudges! – You know who you are!
That man is wearing sunglasses!
Eddie O’Mahoney is pictured in the group photo at the start with his dark glasses on. Eddie was the first person I met who had photo-chromatic glasses . They were prescription glasses that re-acted to light and so went dark automatically. In 1974 this was pretty rare! So much so that some officer spotted Eddie on morning parade one sunny day and shouted out “Sergeant Major, that man is wearing sunglasses – take them from him”. BSM Byrne marched down and had to return to inform the officer that these were miracle glasses and probably the work of the devil.
I was well into my studies that year and got to chat to Eddie about his work. He worked with one of the large advertising agencies. I suppose I was a bit precocious to ask him, “Is it not difficult to work at a job that convinces people that they need things they don’t really need?” Like the true pro he was Eddie did not miss a beat and answered “But they do need them – they just don’t know they need them!”
This was my brother Conor’s (RIP) first camp and the out of focus photo above shows him on the left with Brendan Mallon, Jurgen White, David Brereton and 3 others.
Award of stripes.
The following photos show our class getting their stripes and Dernan O’Toole getting some other prize.