Wearing civvies outside camp

Gordon 719 wrote:

""Poison Dwarfs

During the cold war a Scottish regiment based in a German town developed a bad reputation for drunkenness, fighting and general bad behaviour. The soldiers were hated by the local Germans and were given the name “Poison Dwarfs” by the town’s media.""

The Cameronians 1962..if i recall correctly'

Resulted in restrictions throughout BAOR.One being that all privates and equivalent ranks had to book in and out of camp.

That's right Gordon. The Cameronians were posted in Minden, but I thought it was late 1961 that the curfew throughout BAOR was imposed due to their high jinks. Since we were an integral part of the old 4th Div it affected us as well.

Weren't they a magnificent mob?

"I think I need a 'translation' on the term "pads"...I think it refers to those living in married quarters?"

Absolutely correct - the term widely use for those (usually married) who lived "out" in some different to those of us who were single !

Another term was "Bean Stealers" - on account that when on duty on camp they were fed but paid no foot and accomodation !!

"Can't say that I recall the lady. The hole in the fence most used by us went out by the ball field at Fort St. Louis (later Albuhera Barracks) that also featured an inviting path leading to Zum Forsthaus a couple of hundred yards away. On that note, can anyone confirm whether or not the pub is still there? I can't see it on Google earth unless it's hidden in the trees."

Recce - I was based in Albuhera Barracks, Werl (really closer to Wickede actually), former Fort St Louis. I can't recall any pub or bar within 1 mile of the camp - had there been one I'm pretty sure I would have visited it.

Any drinking was usually done on camp or in Werl - I don't even recall going into Wickede much.

Sorry - meant to say "food and accomadation" and the pads lived in a different world to the rest of us !

Remember asking the pads(married pers) to buy milk Danish Cartons for the Singlys from the Pads Naffi, as singlys could not buy milk, other than a pint in the Ors Naffi Mess?

Chemist wrote:

My father was a Flight Sergeant (1914-1939.)

He was on the square drilling some flight or other when an officer who had been watching asked "Why do you treat your men like dogs?"

"Because they are dogs sir " was his reply.

PC? What would have followed that today?

I don't know about being "politically correct"...I don't think that's it.

As for what would have followed a comment like the one your father made (and recognizing it was a different time when Flight Sgt = GOD), I suspect there'd be an investigation -- not so much re the comment but the treatment, if in fact your dad was treating the men under his command unfairly or too harshly. Harsh, that's one thing and can (although not always) instill a certain degree of grit and discipline; something the United States Marine Corp is quite aware of and practices and while such treatment would raise my hackles (which is why I'm not in USMC!), I can see how it toughens up the guys and creates a sense of comraderie amongst each other (common pain-in-the-butt = the drill sgt/CO/etc). But "harshly" is different from "harsh", if you catch the shades of meaning there.

My Warrant Officer father once stated to a wet-behind-the-ears Lieutenant re some disagreement "I'd have your balls for bookends, sir, but what I'd do with one bookend, I have no idea..." The young officer was, of course, not pleased but his superior officer laughed and told him, in effect, "Well, then, don't go around pissing of senior NCOs...". Fair enough.

Re the Cameronians...I, of course, was not aware of any restrictions on BAOR personnel, or if I was it was only dimly and not in relation to anything specific.

However, circa 1972-1973 I was very aware of the squaddies tendency to be...well...assholes after a few half-litres of beer and looking to pick a fight with anyone and everyone, including one's best mate if need be. And some of the fights were nasty. I'd never come across headbutting, for instance. A lot of the Irish Ranger squaddies in Hemer were notoriously bad apples and essentially were just ruffians, not unlike the yobs one finds at football matches. Some of them were in the army as an alternative to being in jail. Perhaps jail would have been better for all concerned, I don't know.

Not all, certainly, but bored, testosterone-laden, 18year olds fuelled by years of frustration and being kept down and beer added to all that = huge brawls and nasty nasty fights. Not just fisticuffs, but headbutting, knives being pulled, ambushes on the way home/back to barracks, etc. Not very good at all.

PS: thanks for the translation on "pads"...Canadians had a similar term, but I now forget what it was. Us kids, of course, were all PMQ Rats (and we were!!).

Ahh now were remember things said by Snr NCO's and WO's. My favourite was by the BSM of 2 SSM (Trg) Bty RCA. It went as so.

He was shaking his shinny brass headed drill cane at Sig. Jones and said.

Signalman Jones I'll drive this drill cane so far up your arse. You'll think you have a mouth full of gold.

Names have been changed, and no it wasn't me. Lately I reminded this former BSM of the statement. I could picture his grin as he denied it over the phone. He was truly one of the best WO's I ever knew. He was eventually to reach the peak of his career as Chief Warrant Officer Canadian Forces Europe. Truly a gentleman of the first caliber.

My first day of Basic Training in May 1951 is when I first met SSM Jimmy Derwent. Eight months later I arrived at HQ 6 Armd Div Sigs Regt, a brand new, bulled up to the eyebrows Corporal, complete with trousers weighted down with strings of 3/8" nuts encased in a velvet casing. Who was there to greet me, non other than a brand new RSM Jimmy Derwent, also bulled up to the nines. Don't I know you lad he barked, Yes Sir, Somme Lines May through December last year. Looking me up and down he taps my stripes with his pace stick .. it seems that they are making anything up these days .. without a beat I replied, apparently so Sir ... I wasn't absolutely sure if he got the drift of my reply .. next thing was, get those bloody weights out of your trousers Corporal and report to the Orderly Sgt on the square for practice guard mount .. you're on guard tonight. Just before guard mount along comes Jimmy Derwent, here you go Corporal, can't have you looking like a Nig Nog, put these weights in your trousers, I confiscated them this morning from another smart ass ... that's when I was sure he had got my drift ... best RSM I ever served with ...

Len (Ciphers)

Drill corporals

A CONFESSION. I was an OFFICER CADET_RAF.

We were supposed to be addressed as "Sir" So we were trying to master the about turn on the march and I could not do it. Up comes Corporal Brown,Scots ,with a very red face and a highly bulled brown leather jerkin.
"Youse look like f#####g stallion SIR"

RIP Corporal Brown

Yes, 1 Cameronians in Minden earned the first Poison Dwarf name. The unit was in disgrace then but I came across them again in 1964 where they were responsible for Internal Security in our area in Aden. They were great in that role and much feared by the Terrorists.

Regarding being posted to guard our hole. About 80% of our fellow Junior NCOs lived out, being married. This left those of us that lived in to be held responsible for failure to deal with all misdemenours that took place in our huge Barrack Blocks out side normal working hours or at least those few that came to the attention of the likes of the RSM. This in turn developed over the months into a live and let live lifestyle. Proper misdemenours were properly dealt with, barracks were cleaned/bulled as appropriate, parades were held prior to work and all men accounted for. One guy for example operated in the block as a bookmaker which should not have been allowed but it worked out OK and added something to our life. A British version of the Sgt Bilko situation perhaps.

[quote="298HALL
Recce - I was based in Albuhera Barracks, Werl (really closer to Wickede actually), former Fort St Louis. I can't recall any pub or bar within 1 mile of the camp - had there been one I'm pretty sure I would have visited it.

Any drinking was usually done on camp or in Werl - I don't even recall going into Wickede much.[/quote]

It was at the bottom of the hill if you turned right out the main gate toward Werl. It was the first road you came to (a 'local traffic only' road). If you made a right turn onto it, The Forsthaus was immediately on the left hand side. It was a good pub run by a very nice older couple whose names are long forgotten.

Actually I lived in Wickede on Im Winkel the last 6 months I was in Germany. There was a pub right next door and the town swimming pool on the other side of that. "Mama and Papa" threw a party for us the night before we left. My brain still hurts when I think back on it. It was a long bus ride to Dusseldorf Airport and a longer flight home to RCAF Trenton!

Wonderful days and wonderful times.

I never figured out how the Germans managed to have swimming pools (inside and outside) as well as goodl equiped sport halls and gymnasiums in very small towns and villages even in the sixties/seveties!

Even until this day I have never come similar facilites in the UK, except for in VERY large towns and that has only come about in the last twenty years.

Strangely I believe some of the outside bathing places have slowly been done away with! Maybe the climate changes have even put the Germans off outside swimming. Or maybe they like their central heated houses and have gone soft?

Recce - coming out of the gate and turning right towards Werl, I can't recall there being much at all. There was a forest trail with one of those assault course type exercise facilities - done by the civvies and can't remember what you call it now !

Was the autobahn built when you were in Fort St Louis - the slip road / exit was at the bottom of the hill and at the time I was in Albuhera Barracks the autobahn stopped at that junction. Nowadays it's been extended or completed past the back of the camp.

Maybe the Forst Haus was either a victim of the autobahn building or simply closed. I certainly don't remember it.

Amazing how things change in 44 years! Who would ever have thought an autobahn was more important than a gasthof?

There was only the paved road at the end of the steepest part of the Wickederstrasse. The road to Werl ran all the way down until you came to a junction with Highway 1 just before entering Werl. (That junction would take you to Unna and Dortmund.)

Otherwise, it was a fairly quiet area with lots of woods and fields. The only other structure on the right side of the road going downhill was the POL (or was in ammo) dump which was really inside the barracks boundary, but fenced in seperately. Nothing but trees on the other side of the highway. I'll take another look at Google Earth.

Cheers

Rod

For Hardrations.
I remember that RCA Base RSM at Lahr,he was a right old bastard,tried hard to get the RCAF guys in line but it never really worked,I don't think they understood what he was on about,give them an order and they would want to discuss it with you.

One night at a Mess Dinner when I had had a few I got into conversation with him,and told him that I thought he was a miserable old prick but wouldn't have his job for all the tea in China,we then discussed the point and parted on good terms,and I didn,t get any extra duties.

The Cameronians were the scourge of Minden in 61,62 and as you rightly say were responsible for a lot of extra restrictions.
I recall being told by one of their opponents that they were very small lads but would not go down no matter how hard you hit them.

Re frank and open discussions with the RSM, been there, done that and readjusted my badges of rank next day, twice as it happens. I was made Local Sgt for a signals course which I completed and was to be made acting rank. In the meantime there was a Sgt's mess do. Drink was taken in large quantities and contrary to expectations the RSM was not so drunk he wouldn't remember our conversations. He was, it was generally agreed, a very very unpleasant man. I just made the mistake of telling him so. I didn't learn by my mistake and some months later again local rank, I told him what an arse he was for busting me the first time so he busted me again to prove it

In 1955-56, we had civvy clothes passes. You just checked out at the guard room, and as long as you looked respectable, off you went. Also we had sleeping out passes, whereby you could stay out, as long as you were back in time for work in the morning.