- Contributed byÌý
- MinnieEverton
- People in story:Ìý
- Albert Everton
- Location of story:Ìý
- Salisbury
- Background to story:Ìý
- Army
- Article ID:Ìý
- A2222786
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 21 January 2004
My late husband served in the forces for over four years but never saw active service, because he was drafted to two training regiments; the 84th Royal Tank Corps and the 61st Royal Armoured Corps, as a driving and maintenance instructor.
This was considered by many people to be a ‘cushy number’, but it wasn’t. N. C. O. instructors took their lives into their hands every day, teaching new recruits to drive tanks and halftrack vehicles on Salisbury Plain and in the Peak and the Lake Districts. Fatal accidents did occur from time to time.
Amusing things, however, did happen too. I recall being told of the time when my husband took a squad of recruits out to teach them to drive a halftrack vehicle. Some of the recruits could not even drive a car. Being out in the country ‘somewhere in England’, it came time for their mid-morning break at their usual café called (and this is true) ‘The Linga Longa’.
Unfortunately, that morning they had lingered too long and they were going to be late for their rendezvous. Driving along at a fast pace, my husband noticed something that called for him to stand yelling at the driver to slow down. Directly ahead of them, was an old man with a two-wheeled contraption, containing a large tin of white paint. The man was painting white road markings in the middle of the road — walking backwards.
The driver came to halt, the two-wheeled trolley slowed down, as the old man noticed the military van with a look of sheer horror in his face. The man moved with the vigour of a twenty year-old and jumped onto the front of the military van, with his brush still in his hand.
But it was too late. The trolley rammed into the van and the paint went everywhere and on everyone. On their return to the barracks, the recruits were all put on a charge. My husband was confined to the barracks for seven days, the recruits were given ‘Junkers’ — the dirtiest duties on camp, and the local council was duly compensated.
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