Bill Legge's memories 1

I think this is our first year in Libya at the US Wheelus base. I won some money from a one-armed-bandit and bought an “Instamatic” camera. It was a rotten little snap box designed for people incapable of loading a roll of film. However, it recorded times at the RMAS, North Africa, Germany and Norway. I lost it on exercise in BAOR along with a very expensive sleeping bag – I hope the sod who pinched them got over-exposed frostbite.

Wheelus 1964. Eddie, Charles and ? I guess lads today would be helpless with laughter at wandering around in issued long-johns.

Libya 1964. Ian Morris, the platoon radio operator. The A41 a heavy lump that never seemed to carry any useful messages in either direction. Anyone remember the unfortunate cadets that were out on a recce patrol and were caught using the battery box a cooking pot?

The start of field training in Libya at the ‘work-up’ area. I remember it as wet, cold and muddy with red clay. In the background: Mike, Bassey? And Fred Hoyle

Ben Buck 1964. In what was laughably called a “fire position.” Whilst in such a position one could usually see bugger-all but avoided the attention of the DS. Who are the sinister figures in the bushes?

Bill Legge 1964. I can actually remember this being taken. At the start of the day and I thought I looked quite un-soldierly with by rifle and tea mug. Was the head-dress called “Hats Ridiculous?”

Libya 1964. Someone and Bernie Killu.

Libya 1964. On the way from the ‘work-up’ area to the exercise proper. The small convoy stopped for a pee-break. We look cold and sleepy – and this was before the exercise started.

Libya 1964. It looks even bleaker and dustier than I remember. We once spent a night in a sandy area with a high wind and inside a few minutes the sand was everywhere – in one’s mouth, pack and food.

Libya 1964. Rifleman Fred Hoyle. He must have been posing for the picture – no one ever took such good aim.

Fred Hoyle – I think?

Libya 1964. I remember it being very cold at night.

Libya 1965 – our last year at the RMA. I got a rocket from that charmless nerk Major Swinton (I think) for taking a picture in the middle of a war– he was the Chief Instructor for New College (Nick name ‘The Gripper”). He had a light coloured dog and I always wanted to write rude words on it.

Bill Legge with bearskin. Who on earth owned a bearskin? Taken in the New College lines. We spent half our time in the main building and half in the Nissen huts at the rear. The brickwork on New College was being cleaned and was covered in scaffolding. Returning to my room one night, very late and lacking a pass, I could not go in via the Officers Mess entrance and dodged round the back – pursued by a guard. I quickly climbed the scaffold to the top floor and at 3 o’clock in the morning knocked on someone’s window and climbed in. The occupant had forgotten the scaffolding at was very muddled over my arrival via his window on the top floor.

New college 1965. Ian Morris and Peter Munro. We occupied rooms on the ‘inside bend.’