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| My Story:- 2741341 Rodney Angell-Baker (Spot Baker) 1945-1960 Tng Bn Welsh Guards, 2nd Guards Tng Bn and 1st Bn Grenadier Guards - Retired as Drum Major. On 12th October 1945 after months of haggling with the recruiting staff in Leeds about choice of Regiments (I wanted to be a band boy in the West Yorks Regt), I entered the Guards Depot at Caterham as a Boy in The Welsh Guards where I had the most unsatisfactory 12 months plus until I attained the age of 17 years and 6 months and was granted a transfer to the Grenadier Guards, joining the 1st Bn at Chelsea Barracks on 27th January 1947. I enjoyed my time in London until Autumn when we moved up to Windsor and prepared for Active Service in Palestine. We left Palestine in May 1948 and sailed for Libya (MELF) wher we stayed until relieved by the 3rd Bn in Sept 1951. After disembarkation leave, we were kitted out with Home Service clothing at our 'acclimatisation' station in Brentwood Barracks Warley,Essex then moved up to Windsor and for the next couple of years we took an active part in all aspects of Public Duties, including the King's funeral at St George's Chapel and The Coronation. In March 1954 we set off on our travels again and joined The Berlin Independent Brigade, stationed at Montgomery Barracks, Kladow. The Russian wire cut straight across our area, and two Barrack blocks (unused of course) were actually in The Russian Sector! In Sept 1955 we moved into The British Zone (BAOR) and settled in to Gort Barracks, Hubbelrath - where every building was single storey. I had been promoted to Gold Sgt in March 1953, and after passing my ACE 1st Class, it was decided that as the Drum Major Courses at Kneller Hall had been terminated, I should spend a period of attachment with the Regimental Band back in Blighty to take a 'modified KH pupils' course with the Director of Music - Lt Col Fred Harris (oh bliss!) I spent quite a few months in rhat Spring and Summer of 1956, wading my way from cover to cover of Kitson's Elements of Harmony, and had many torrid moments in face to face tutorials with Col Harris when he would alternate between friendly encouraging tuition, and blasting me with words of withering scorn the next as he disseminated my latest attempts at composition or arranging. As a flautist it was decided by Col Fred that I should study tuned percussion and keyboard! I thankfully boarded the troopship at Harwich for my return back to Germany, fully expecting to take over as Drum Major from Albert Petersen who was due to leave in the near future. You can imagine my dismay when I arrived back at Hubbelrath to find that Petersen had gone as planned but someone had decided that 'Zombie' Collins should take over as DM of the 1st Bn and had duly descended from the 2nd Bn and was in post! I had to 'soldier on' literally for another 2 years until I was finally appointed as Drum Major at Chelsea in May 1958. There followed a wonderful time with the grandest set of lads (and there were loads of 'em) in the 1st Bn Drums right up until we parted company at Candahar Barracks, Tidworth. I left the Bn in Sept 1960 on redundancy - creating a vacancy for my dear old buddy Tom Cornall to come along and fill - from his current post as Drum Major of the disbanding 3rd Bn. That is my story for now - I will add some anecdotes from time to time. A PALESTINE STORY 1948. In late March 1948 the 1st battalion was stationed in Camp 22d at Nathanya, a small village on the North West Palestine coast � destined to become the huge City of Netanya in later years and the popular holiday resort of International tourists and Israelis alike. Our next door neighbours were the 2nd battalion Coldstream Guards, but the 1st Guards Brigade was in the process of relocating to other parts pf Palestine prior to our move to Tripoli in Libya when the British Mandate of Palestine ended in May. Most of the Coldstreamers had departed leaving a small rear party and on the gate separating our two camps was a look out point. On the day of my story this post was manned by some Coldstream Drummers armed with a loaded Bren. Their orders it seemed were intended to ensure that they should keep a watchful eye over the deserted Coldstream camp and to guard against looters. At about 1100hrs there was such a sudden racket from the direction of the post as the Bren commenced firing in rapid bursts. The lads had spotted an Arab tribesman complete with camel in the process of making off with something or other from one of the huts. They meant to fire a couple of warning shots in front of the offender to stop him making off with his ill gotten gains, but � with all the usual �Drummers� enthusiasm� they had locked on �automatic� fire and ended up killing the poor old camel instead! The matter was hushed up somehow, but you can imagine that we of the Grenadier Drums took great delight for many years afterwards in ribbing our Coldstreamer buddies (the Guards Drummers are part of a very select brotherhood) - especially when we finished off with remarks such as �always thought your speciality was Goats!� Rodney (Spot) My First Guard Having returned from Egypt later than the battalion, due to being at brigade H.Q. Fayid. I suddenly found myself as corporal of the guard at Buckingham Palace, which I wasn't looking forward to in the least. I spoke to the coldstream corp coming off and told him this was my first guard so please help all you can. Did the mount o.k. but when he gave the order to march off and post sentries I was not aware that Coldstream turned to the left, being Grenadier I turned to the right? He must have noticed this but gave the order to your posts quick march, they went one way and I went the other all on my own. This was in the days of hob nail boots, and after a short while I thought it rather strange that I couldn't hear the sound of marching boots behind me, took a quick glance over my shoulder and to my utter horror saw the guard disappearing in the distance. A quick about turn and after them I went, managed to catch up as first sentry was changed. Horrors flooded over me when I thought what fate awaited me on return to barracks, but nothing happened, I still cant believe that my dreadful mistaken didn't seem to be noticed. Malcolm ( John ) Powell 22545172 3rd Batt Jack (Al Read) Dutton. 2624989 1st 2nd 3rd Bn Crash landing at Windsor Castle: I was Senior sergeant Windsor Castle Guard. The Royal Family was in residence. A nice summer afternoon with plenty of visitors who politely stepped aside as I marched the patrol to visit the sentries. However, one small RAF corporal decided to stand firm in our path obviously waiting to see what we would do. Measuring my pace, my fist on the end of my swinging right arm hit him in the midriff and he went down like a sack of spuds. Back in the guardroom, one of the patrol said "bloody hell sir, I have never seen that done before." I asked him if he had trodden on the offender "Sir" he replied grinning all over his face. I heard later that the "nut" had been picked up by a duty policeman. As there were many witnesses, I expected to be brought to account for my action, but I never did hear anything further about the incident. I often wonder if the RAF NCO had learned never to obstruct a 6'6" Senior sergeant of the Queens Guard. Pong at Horse Guards Parade: It was guard mounting from Horse Guards Parade and I was a colour marker at the right of the saluting base. I had been stood there for about half an hour when one of the constipated horses nearby decided to let rip a resounding fart. Being downwind of the offending animal was most unpleasant and with also feeling the slight effects of a goodnight in the Mess, my face must have gone through several shades of green. A gust of wind (not the horses) wrapped the colour around my bearskin and face and everything went black. When the wind dropped, I was relieved to see the rows of scarlet and black to my front and knew I had not gone down like some toy soldier. What a pong though! 'The Race': We were in Berlin and a christening party was being held in the Sergeants Mess. The baby's head was being well wetted. Everybody was in high spirits and Chic Hayes (who else?) suggested that we race through the large window, around the outside of the Mess and last one back in would buy drinks all round. I accepted the challenge but did not think that Chic realised that there was a ten foot drop the other side of the window. I aimed to get through the window first and did so, jumped and landed with a forward roll. Chic however, decided to swallow dive through the window and landed with a resounding thud on the grassy surface. He was carried back into the Mess, a bit winded, but had breath enough left to order drinks all round. 'The Race' became a kind of tradition and it was related to me that one night, Pete Dawson and another mess member had raced through the window. Pete who was losing in the race decided to cause a laugh by running back into the Mess and diving through the window 'a la Chic'. Pete took off, but too late realised that someone had closed the window after they had gone through first time. Pete went through the window, frame and all. Miraculously he was unhurt, except in the pocket after paying for repairs, needless to say, that 'The Dick' banned all future races. Sadly, Chic and Pete are no longer with us. What lovely marvellous characters they were. May they rest in peace. 'Oh Diana' Chick Hayes usually performed in the Sergeants Mess by singing his favourite song 'Oh Diana'. Chick, the smartest and most efficient Grenadier of his time was dismounting his last Queens Guard before being posted as RSM to the Malay Regiment. As the guard entered Chelsea Barracks by the back gate, the band broke into a march to the strains of 'Oh Diana' which had been arranged by the Director of Music. It was a fitting tribute to a great Grenadier. There was a bit of sadness mingled with pride amongst the Grenadiers who thronged the sides of the square to witness this moving event. No doubt there was a bit of dampness in Chick's eyes as he was leaving the regiment he loved so much. Chick, indeed was a role model for all Grenadiers. He was loved and respected by all who served with him.I was proud to be his friend and he was godfather to one of my daughters. Sadly he is no longer with us and I was greatly saddened at his loss.May he rest in peace and I have no doubt he will have taught the angels how to play Diana. The Zot Whilst I was seconded to the Kings African Rifles in Kenya, a Royal Marine Commando unit on a rest from operations in East Africa, set up their bivouacs within a remote area of our camp and near the boundary fence of the Nairobi Game Park. Our RSM invited their senior NCOs to use our Sergeants Mess. On the first night, a Staff Sergeant called Mac imbibed a bit too much and left the Mess feet first. The same thing happened the next night. On the third night there was no Mac. We were told that during the night, Mac needed to answer the call of nature and when 'using Africa' his torch light had fallen upon what, by his description, sounded like a aardvark, the nocturnal ant bear (commonly nicknamed the Zot) going about its business of hunting ants. The Zot is a most unusual shape and Mac who had never heard or even seen a photo of one, fled to his bivvy, firmly convinced he had the DTs and swore off drink for the rest of his life. Jack (Al Read) Dutton �Casanova� The year was 1958 and I was serving with the 3rd Bn Grenadier Guards who were based in Cyprus. I was CSM of Support Company with Major P. Haslett as Company Commander. Late in the year the Battalion were tasked with setting up an Operation in the Troudos Mountains, in the hunt for members of the EOKA party who were thought to have �hides� in the area. This entailed setting up �Observation posts� and �Ambushes� on some of the mountain tops and passes in our area of responsibility. In order to be able to �service� these posts it was necessary to transport stores of all kinds up and down on a daily basis, the main item requiring a daily service were batteries required to operate the radios. It was out of the question for these to be recharged in situ, as the noise created by the charging unit would have compromised their situation. The company were therefore allocated 12 donkeys, to use as the only means of transport of any use in such terrain. To cut a long story short, at the end of the operation we received instructions to load the 12 donkeys onto a 3 toner, and to send them down to Brigade HQ, where the local farmers were waiting to collect their animals. I detailed Sgt Tony Swain � MMG Pln Sgt to escort the animals and deal with the handover. It was at the loading stage that we discovered our 12 donkeys had gained and extra member, and we now had a �Bakers Dozen�. Rather than create a problem the Company Commander and I decided that we should �keep� one, and we chose a nice quiet little mare to have as a company mascot. We saw Sgt Swain off with the rest and sat down for a cuppa feeling quite chuffed with our newly acquired �Mascot�. After about half an hour the truck returned with a very red faced Sgt Swain. He informed us that the Brigadier was not a happy man, due to the fact that none of the farmers would accept, �One VERY male donkey� and demanding that we find the missing mare very quickly. It goes without saying that our little �mascot� was duly loaded and sent down to the Brigadier. As a result we were stuck with one very over sexed Donkey, who we had already christened �Casanova� � and for the two weeks we had the animals, he had been tethered some distance away from all the others. As I had two Company Clerks � L/Cpl Spokes and Gdsn Pimm � the Company Commander and I decided that Gdsn Pimm would make an ideal �Groom� and when informed of our decision he couldn�t have been more pleased. Twice each week he was required to bring the animal up to the Company Office for inspection, and this carried on right up to the time of the Battalions departure and return to the UK. Major Haslett had been in touch with some of his friends, at the next camp down the road from ours, who just happened to be The Royal Horse Guards, and �Casanova� was duly handed over into their care. Unfortunately the tale does not have a happy ending, as we heard a short time later that poor �Casanova� had tried to bite off more than he could chew, and had �savaged� one of their �mares� so had to be put down. We decided this was probably caused by his �frustration� as his legs weren�t long enough � his other equipment certainly was! |
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| In August 1957 I and another bunch of apprehensible young men arrived at the guards depot as national servicemen, we strolled through the gates and were ordered to stop by a sergeant through the half masted window who screamed "where the f..k do you think you lot are going. He screamed "runner" and a distant "Sarnt" was heard. "take this lot to the reception " Well he came out swinging his arms like a windmill and took off up the driveway like a dog shot up the arse, we were strolling along and talking and laughing to ourselves.Off in the distance was a squad being drilled in the drillshed as it was raining with the infamous RSM Tibby Britton screaming orders to this poor Scots Guards L /sergeants squad who was standing back watching him take over his squad. As you know he had the loudest voice in the British Army...Stand still he clearly screamed at us and dispatched the Scots Guards sergeant to escort that shower to the reception which he duly did..This story I have told to fascinated listener many times. Ok lets go forward in time to the writer having emigrated to Australia in 1964 later joining the Guards Association of NSW and attended the Queens celebratory dinner at a reception hall in Sydney which was black tie affair, anyway my wife and I walked into the bar to get the first drink when off to the left I could hear that story being told by the very same Scots Guards Sergeant. I strode up to him and let him know who I was, I was in that very mob he was talking about. Well we hugged unashamedly for what seemed an eternity Then got horribly pissed much to the chagrin of my wife. I laughed because he seamed so much taller then.. So how about that for a coincidence Guardsman Derek Crossley Queens Coy |
| Christmas 1957, the Battalion was given a live half hour slot on the forces broadcasting service. It was to be relayed to the BBC for the people at home. They called it �Christmas with the Grenadiers�. We rehearsed until lunchtime in Wolesley Hall, Nicosia and were told to return at 1800. Dougie Wright and another drinking mate, Stan Willis - another old soldier - and me went to the Sgts Mess and as usual started on the brandy, 25pence a bottle. These two were in the choir. I was on the piano. The three of us got legless but they were OK, it helped their singing. When we returned, I sat at the piano and I was told I shouted �talk about black and f...... white�, and burst out laughing. I was put in open arrest and the Padre took over the piano. The first song was �raise up your glass and drink to absent friends� I was sent back to camp and got a severe dig the next day In Cyprus, I was Sgt in waiting, Drums, and went to the Mess lunchtime with �Gaff� Gaffakin. I went to the 3.30 punishment parade and when the D/Sgt - Leo Johnson - called �Sgts in waiting� I started my march out but instead of stopping I was too pissed to count my paces and went straight across the �square� in to No.1 Company lines. Leo went spare but the Picquet Officer - Mr Hardy - started to laugh. I got rushed up to the Sgt.Major (Arthur Stevens - a great bloke) and he told Leo to take me to the wash house and put my head under a cold tap. I didn�t even get bagged !. Next day I was ordered to see the MO and when he said �isn�t there anything I can do for you� I said �Sir, come out on the piss with me�. I don�t know to this day how I got away with it all the time. |
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| THE BELL�S OF ST. JAMES�S By: Brian (Boy) Brenchley � Late 1st, 2nd & 3rd Battalions. (More Than Once) As Pay Sergeant of The Queen�s Company. Stationed at Chelsea Barracks in mid 1958. I was �marched in� to Commanding Officers Memoranda and Promoted to CSM and at the same time, warned for �Draft� to the 3rd Bn in Cyprus. Things being as they were (and probably still are!) the Battalion managed to get their final �Pound of Flesh� by detailing me for �Queen�s Guard� a couple of days later. I was not too fussed about this, as I expected it to be my last Public Duty for some considerable time. Having carried out my very first �Queen�s Guard� in about May of 1947. At the age of 15yrs, as �Drummer�, also on numerous occasions during the intervening years. I was therefore quite familiar with the contents and layout of the NCO�s Guardroom at St. James�s Palace. Having said that, there was a particular item in this Guardroom that had always puzzled me. This was the �Box� mounted on the wall with moveable Disc�s & Bell, which indicated if any of the Sentries required assistance. Over the years I had noticed that there were four or five discs, but that from what I remember, only two of these were �Marked�; York House and Clock Tower. Having over the years asked various senior ranks, I had never been able to ascertain what the other two/three discs were for. Nobody knew the answer. Curiosity got the better of me on this �my Last Guard� and I decided to get the Corporal of the Guard to �Test ALL the Sentry Box Bell�s� when he went round with the Midnight Relief. It used to take about 3 minutes from Marching Off, to actually Changing the Sentry at York House. Then about another 3-4 minutes to get to the Clock Tower followed by a gap of about 7 minutes to get into the grounds of Clarence House, to the Sentry there. Then back to the Guardroom, the whole of this taking approximately 20 minutes. Having seen the relief off, I returned into the Guardroom to keep an eye on the �Alarm Board�. Sure enough 3 mins and York House registered and the Bell rang, then another few minutes and the Clock Tower disc moved and the bell rang � so far so good. We were now entering �unknown territory� � 7 mins passes � nothing! 10 mins � still nothing! Then 20 mins and I began to think, �Good, I�ve found a Bell that doesn�t work�. When it got to 30 mins I started to worry! Where is the relief? Then that awful silence of impending doom was broken by footsteps approaching. From the noise I realised that it was more than the four members of the Relief! So I went to the Guardroom door and was immediately comfronted by an extremely large and very unhappy Senior Police Officer, in the company of numerous other equally irate Police Officers. They were a sight to be seen! Pyjamas sticking out from trouser legs, jackets etc, various forms of footwear and headdress and their leader demanding to see the �Comedian� whose idea this was! I could do nothing but own up Guv! It was swiftly pointed out to me, �That Bell in the Box in Clarence House Garden� rings in Scotland Yard and not the Guardroom! I had in fact managed to �Turn Out� most of the �Flying Squad�. The Corporal of the Guard later informed me � he had been quaking in his boots as he tried to leave Clarence House Grounds as he and the relief were almost leapt on by dozens of Policemen who were surrounding the place. Knowing how we all feared the wrath of the Sgt Major, the worst was yet to come! When I submitted the Guard Report after Dismounting Guard, (having made an entry under �Any Unusual Occurrence� I fully expected a good �Roasting� from RSM Drouet. As it turned out, for once I left his office with a pat on the back following my graphic description of the events \and a �Credit� for having tested the Bell�s and making sure the Flying Squad lived up to their name! |
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| In Cyprus I got pissed in the mess one night and flicked my fag on to the roof of my tent which caught fire.I ran outside in bollock order when a officer came to the lines. I banged my tabs in and saluted without a stitch on. He saluted me back. He also was pissed. Used to be on the pink gin all the time. Next morning Dougie Wight MM was there - Pioneer Sgt - with a tent pole which had the electrical wire burned and he put that in the wreckage and took one of the originals away. It was put down to a short circuit and I got away with it, though even the Sgt.Maj knew what had really happened. Christmas 1957 the Battalion were out on ops and Dougie and I got stuck in to the brandy in the mess and decided we would kill the turkeys ready for the Christmas draw. There was all hell to play.... and so it goes on, great times |
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| 21006028 Morris (Dusty) Smith 1947-60 3rd, 2nd, 1st Bn Guards Depot |
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| Whilst in the 1st Battalion Drums in 1958, I went up the West End one Saturday night and got involved in a game of 21 aces. I lost and had to drink a pint of �mix�. The next thing, I woke up in a cell and realised I was in the nick. The door opened and a warder said �you want your fags sarg�. When I asked where I was he said �Bow Street�. It appears I tried to get to the toilets in Villiars Street, down the side of Charing Cross Station. There was a big queue and I couldn�t wait. A copper came but every time he tried to get near me I gave him a �squirt�. He was dancing around the pavement until I ran out, then arrested me. I got in the queue with all the prostitutes and the like and was fined 5 shillings for being drunk and disorderly. The copper who arrested me was an ex squaddie and thought it was hilarious. He said he had to run me in because there were hundreds of people watching. He said they were all clapping and laughing. I got marched in on CO�s Memoranda but no action was taken. Regards Dusty |
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| Update 07 January 06 |
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| By: Brian (Boy) Brenchley � Late 1st, 2nd & 3rd Battalions. (More Than Once) |
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