My military service - cont.

Seeing as I have introduced my military experience in another blog here, Bethlehem 1977, I thought I would continue with the theme for now...

Basics was hard. I was not fit, smoked too much, and wasn't one for cold weather. Every morning we were up at 4 am. in running shorts and vests. It was -4 to -5 (maybe -6 to -7) deg C. Damn it was freezing, and we would run 5 -8 km. The distance varied subject to the condition of the corporals. If they had had a hard drinking session the night before it was 5, if not, up to 8!

If we didn't all arrive at the end point more or less together, we ran again, so we soon learnt to drag along the laggards, (fat boys, lazy boys, stoned boys) and they soon learned the short cuts. There was one guy I remember who was seriously overweight. Man, did he take strain..., but we pulled him through.

One time when we didn't make the finish as a group we were taken to an open veld that had been burnt about a week before, and made to leopard crawl across it, and back. That was really the pits. I still gave black marks under the skin where the burnt grass shafts went into/ under the skin. Some festered and popped out, some didn't.

Back at the bungalow we would then have inspection. This was started off by the corporal taking one of either the sand or water buckets placed outside in case of fire and throwing it across the meticulously polished floor! More often than not, in the first few weeks, it was the sand, as the water bucket was frozen solid!

Training in the first few weeks was limited to breaking us down, indoctrination, and fitness. Some firearm training and some explosive training came into play. Lots of running long distances with Gum poles, or bailey bridge parts was the norm.

Night marches started, with each of us carrying up to 50kg on our backs. Damn!

For me this was a very challenging period. Although I befriended some of the guys in my unit, I wasn't a proper fit across the board. So I ensured that I met the requirements as far as being a team player went, and did my bit with regards preparing the bungalow for inspection, but didn't get into a) arse creeping (brown nosing) the corporals / lieutenants, or, b) bucking the system the other way. Kinda middle of the road.

Morning, and some times midnight, inspections were so stupid really. It involved the room: windows and floors, each soldiers personal space: bed, cupboard, and clothing and person.Beds had to be flat, with all corners at perfect right angles. Crazy. These were seriously aged steel frame beds, with thin, bumpy mattresses! We were forced to get under the beds and lift sections with pairs of socks, or newspaper and stuff, just to get the top level and flat.

Then the beds were made in a specific way. All the corners were ironed to get them flat and square. We learned many tricks to make this simple, one of which was to smear shaving cream onto the blanket, and then iron it in. This would then harden and the bed would keep the desired shape. It also meant the we would sleep on the floor most nights, as there would never be enough time in the mornings to do this!

Clothing had to be ironed with specific creases, and boots polished till mirror finish was achieved.A piece of fishing line placed into the front leg seam of a pair of trousers and then ironed in gave a permanent and perfect line! For those who were a bit more handy, they sowed a permanent seam!Polishing boots was maybe simpler, although it did take a lot of buffing.Polish was applied liberally, especially on the toe area. This was then set alight and allowed to melt into the boot. Much polishing / buffing thereafter would bring out the most incredible shine!!

Personal hygiene was very important, and one guy who was going for the mentally unfit card to get out of the service was often treated to a cold shower by his room mates as a) he stank to high heaven, and b) they were punished regularly because of his state.

I had never shaved, but in the second week the corporal decided to take a closer look, found some fine hair on my face, and as punishment made me take a sharp stone, and with cols water shave my face! It bled like crazy, and the scabs took weeks to heal, but I was now shaving like most of the rest.

Sundays we were trucked in to town to attend church services at our respective churches. Week one saw each selecting the church they had been brought up in. From week two the trucks going to the churches which were the previous week reported to have the most and nicest girls were the fullest!! I was lucky to have decided on a church that was around the corner from a roadhouse! this meant that each week me and my mates would buy loads of burgers and or Dagwood's on order, and make a few bucks on each! Paid for the smokes!

Week 3 in basics saw us moving out of the main base in town, and into two out of town camps, 21 and 22 Squadrons. I was in 21. 22 Was an established camp, with most minimum amenities. 21 was a new base. We arrived to find 2 semi complete bungalows, a couple of tents, half a parade ground, a couple of ammo bunkers, and a shooting range.

Our task, apart from the training, was to complete the building of the base.The bungalow completion wasn't too difficult. Most of us were apprentices in some trade or other.The parade ground on the other hand was a different story. There was a mountain of sand which had been trucked in, and had been flattened to some extent. However the sides kept breaking away, so rocks needed to be packed up all around to prevent this erosion.The rocks came from a hill across the veld, about 1 km away! Every time we had to run (for punishment or fitness) we were sent across the veld (a slight decline) to the top of the hill. Wait for the others to arrive. Collect a rock (no smaller then your head) and run back, down the hill, up the veld to the camp. Place the rock in the pile with the rest....

At the end of basics (that's what they called the initiation phase of 6-8 weeks) we had a parents day where a massive display of our capabilities was put on, and after which we were allowed home for the weekend.It was so good to see my folks again, and then taste mom's great cooking, and get to see the girlfriend! I almost ate her alive!

The next 5 months were spent training, mainly in preparation for the bush war we were in the middle of. I'm still not sure if what we did was right or wrong. I suppose it depends which side of the fence you came from.

What I did know was that I had already lost some of my older friends to that war, I was 18 and put into a situation I wasn't sure I cared to be in, but I was going proudly. It's the way we were raised.

Weekend passes were great, but getting home wasn't so easy. For those guys really far from home, an overnight train ride. For those of us closer, hitch hiking. Sometimes you got lucky and got a single lift to your destination. Other times, you hiked most of the night! It was a 3 hour drive to my home, and more than once it took me 6 - 7 hours.

Once, hiking back to camp I got a lift in a Mercedes at about 3 am. Two older guys upfront. I lay down on the back seat for a snooze. Next minute there was an incredible bang, and glass flying all over. We'd hit a horse crossing the road, and we were doing about 120km/h at the time. Damn scary stuff when you see half the horse come through the windscreen. We managed to get towed in to town I got to base.

Another time I got a lift quite quickly, fell asleep on the back of the truck, and woke up 120 km past my home town. Needed to hike back!!! At least in those days we could hitch hike, it was relatively safe to do so,, and there was a national "soldier awareness" campaign on which helped.

We also got to spend 2 weeks during this initial training period in an obscure camp which was used for "war games" then known as Luatla, near a town called Danielkuil.

December 23, 1977 - here we were, expecting to be told that we would be getting a long break so as to spend Xmas at home with our families. A message came through from South West Africa (now Namibia) to say that the "old boys" (them who were the intake before ours) had gone ballistic. They had originally been called up for 12 months, and now that they were near to completing their stint, they ere informed that it had been extended to 24 months! Apparently they lost the plot completely, and a decision was taken to fly them back to South Africa and give them some time off.

That left a hole in the Engineering services on the border. That left us on a plane to Grootfontein (LIU) within 24 hours!!!!

Salagatle!