Memories of Young Soldier in The Catterick Garrison

When I left High School, in Callander, Perthshire in 1947, I had no idea what to do in life. My father had been a Regular Army Officer, post WW1 and told me that if I enlisted in the army, and with his connection, I would have no difficulty in obtaining a commission. So I enlisted as a Private Soldier and was posted to 8th Royal Tank Regiment (a Training Regiment) at Catterick Garrison. What a culture shock! I was assigned to a hut where twenty something men were housed. No privacy, foul language and more. Fortunately, I was assigned to a Potential Officers Squad, with about a dozen other men, the majority coming from moneyed backgrounds and 'Public Schools'. We were allowed to wear civilian clothes after duty and we would go into Richmond town to eat in restaurants and get away from Catterick camp! If one walked around the camp, one had to dress properly, walk smartly and be on the look out for an officer AND salute him. At any time a NCO could yell at you and you would have to double smartly to him and stand at attention in front of him while he gave you a lecture about something that was wrong with your appearance or whatever else he could find wrong. At the entrance to 8 RTR camp, you had to pass the Guard House and there was always a Regimental Policeman standing outside. Again, you could be yelled at and had to double over and stand at attention while he looked you over. The Regimental Police Sergeant was a Sergeant Williams, known as 'Chesty Williams' - because he stuffed the front of his battle dress blouse with cardboard to give him a square chest! If he had you in front of him for something, he would literally scream at you and this just demoralized you. He was hated, even by the his fellow Sergeants in their Mess. One day he disappeared and rumour had it that foul play was suspected. The members of the Potential Officers Squad were eventually sent to appear in front of a War Office Selection Board, where we had to take leadership roles in certain situations, we were watched at meal times to see if we knew how to eat "as Gentlemen" and other evaluation processes. We returned to 8 RTR and a short while later we were paraded individually in front of the Commanding Officer and told the results of the Board. I had failed. Shortly thereafter, and due to some efforts by my father, I was posted to a Field Regiment of The Royal Artillery in Troon,Scotland. I was a very happy man, leaving the humiliating life of a recruit, leaving the moors of Yorkshire and leaving 8 Royal Tank Regiment. My continuing life in the British Army for another four years and some months, is another story.