Life and Times of a Young Soldier
Chapter 12: Wings at last

Copyright© 2014 by Dreaded

As fire force developed we found that trying to Truck in back up sticks was not working – The trucks were often still a long way from the contact area and time was wasted ... The back up AVTUR was welcome for the Choppers but there were some serious delays in getting the second wave on to the ground – The Powers decided that the RLI should be Para trained as soon as possible so it started ... Not having the capacity to train so many guys locally the SADF offered the training facilities at Tempe Barracks, Bloemfontein ... No this sounded great but!!! What a culture shock ... Let me tell you the difference between the SADF and us was like chalk and cheese ... Shit these guys were different ... We arrived late afternoon in our civies and were allocated a barrack room – We were given an Artillery Captain as our OC as we had no officers available to come with us ... I and our junior store man were basically in charge of a bunch of NS guys who had just passed out in to the RLI from Training – A brilliant bunch of guys who I became good friends with – Supper that night was one of the biggest jokes I have seen in my life – I walked in to the Sgts mess and after sitting down a plate was put in front of me – it consisted of a slice of bully beef, dry grated cheese, Grated carrots and a slice of bread ... I looked at the mess steward and asked him what this crap was – he muttered something that I couldn't understand and scuttled off – I walked through to the Troops mess and my guys were all sitting there with stunned looks on their face at the crap in front of them ... I was not at all impressed and told the guys to follow me and we marched down to near the main gate ... Here I found a bus and a driver who we commandeered into driving us into town ... I had been given a discretionary fund of Rand by a Suit so my first sop was at a local Wimpy ... I walked in and asked the manager for a blanket price to feed 26 hungry guys with good Food ... He gave me a good price and I marched the guys in and noticed we had been joined by our Cpt ... Apparently the officers mess graze was no better ... I must admit that the saff at that Wimpy treated us like kings and we ate very well ... The buss driver scuttled in and mumbled to me but I couldn't speak the Local lingo so it was like Shackle (code) to me – Funny, after that Afrikaans was always known as shackle ... The manager of Wimpy came and translated for me and apparently the driver was in serious shit for leaving camp and the MP's were outside wanting to arrest him ... I told him to sit down and shut up, the little Oke was shivering in his boots he was so scared ... As I was finishing my meal a MP Cpl strutted in to the Wimpy and started to shout at our poor little driver – we were all dressed in civies so not really identifiable as soldiers ... Des, one of our larger Children stood up, picked the MP up by the scruff of his neck and carried him outside where he threw him in to the gutter – Now Des spoke Rhodesian Afrikaans which was more of a pure Dutch/Huguenot version and proceeded to read the MP's the riot act and told them to F off ... After about another ½ an hour we finished up and drove back to camp where the gate guard gave our poor driver even more shit – Des Climbed out the door of the bus and lumbered toward the gate guard and the poor shit just turned tail and ran to the guard room ... Des opened the Boom and the driver dropped us off at the Barrack room – It was about 22:oo as we were all getting ready to sleep when a Little Grizzled oldish guy dressed smartly in Civies knocked at our barrack room door ... One of my Troopies opened the door and called for me and the Major – He introduced himself quietly as the RSM and asked if we were having problems – What a wonderful man and we became good friends over the years ... He really battled with English but tried hard - I answered his question and told him that the food we were served was bloody disgusting and we were having major communication problems with the SADF guys ... Believe me, not many of them spoke English ... He apologized to the Cpt and I and told us that he would see us in the morning after kit issue and we would try to correct the problem ... I told the Guys Reveille was at 06:oo and we were to go to Breakfast at 7 then fall in in front of the Barrack room at 8 where we would then march down to get our kit...

Blow me down but some little shit in the staff of the SADF didn't get the message on timing - it was still bloody dark the next morning when some shit of a Cpl switched on the lights. Beat on a steel locker and started screaming in Shackle – I cant remember who it was at that end of the Barrack room but he rolled out of bed, belted the Cpl in the Jaw and grabbing him by the shirt and pants threw him out the door ... He the slammed the door, switched out the lights and we all went back to sleep - My alarm went off at 6 and I wondered if I had dreamt this mornings ruckus – I asked one of the Troopies and he told me that no, I hadn't been dreaming, at 04:oo there had been an incident but was all quiet after that ... Breakfast was inedible - Rubber scrambled egg, stale Bread and shit coffee – Shit these guys must starve here!!!!

We fell in at the Barrack room just before 8 and a Sgt in the brown SADF uniform marched up smartly and started screaming orders ... Now we had 4 local guys join the course who were fallen in at the side of our bunch dressed in Civies who were coming to attention and looked as though they were shitting themselves ... I walked up to this Sgt putt my hand out and introduced myself, in English, and asked him to please stop performing like a constipated seal as we were all qualified soldiers and were to be treated with respect ... I told him that the next prick that started shouting at my guys in Shackle would be taken out and sent to hospital – Now this was all said in a quiet and measured tone of voice – I then turned and introduced him to Captain T who was standing just behind me ... I thought the dood was going to explode – He went bright red, purple, red, and started spluttering and spitting – At that moment a very smart RSM marched up and I braced up and greated him – He saluted Cpt T and shook my hand and we chatted briefly as the Sgt stood there looking like a right royal prick ... He then called to one of the SADF guys who was joining our course, as he broke his leg on the previous one, and told him where we were to go to get kitted up ... We then marched smartly down to the base CQ where we were issued with local para kit consisting of faded and well washed smock, trousers and boots ... We had to attitude adjust the Sgt issuing the kit as he was not really concerned about fit – Our store man hoped across the counter and promptly sorted the guys out...

 
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