Tales from the Academy - Spurs and Eyesight Tests

The day an officer cadet is commissioned is a proud one indeed. First there is Sovereign’s Parade in front of exalted guests and proud friends and family. Stirring music is played as young men – and for several years now, young women – march in perfect order, saluting the Guest of Honour.

After the excitement of the day comes the Commissioning Ball when young officers don the mess kit of the regiment or corps into which they have been commissioned. I understand that they now keep their rank badges covered until midnight when the 2^nd Lieutenant’s pips are revealed in all their pristine glory. This was not the case in the 1960s.

Those going into cavalry regiments or units associated with cavalry had to put on spurs. These pushed into a spur trap or box and jingled pleasingly as the wearer walked, a different note to each spur. Rather, they should have jingled. 

One young officer, maybe dressing in haste or with his mind on other matters, had great difficulty walking in his spurs. Indeed, rather than ringing clearly as others were, they were making an unpleasant scraping sound and causing the wearer to skid and slide. Onlookers might have been forgiven for thinking that the young man (now a respected magistrate somewhere in England) had taken up figure skating, such was his progress across the polished floor. In fact he had inserted his spurs upside down. This caused much hilarity.

This same young man was determined to join the Parachute Regiment, following in his father’s footsteps, who had parachuted into Arnhem in WWII. Unfortunately, his eyesight was not good but, undeterred, he learnt the eyesight chart by heart and confidently rattled it off to the examining doctor.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The doctor was impressed and congratulated him but told him that regrettably the chart had been changed and bore no relation to what he apparently had just read. The best-laid schemes o’ mice and men gang aft a-gley!

Tales from the Academy – Change Parade

In the far-off heady days of the early 60s traffic was light and cars drove fast quite slowly and had no seat belts or heating. Their suspension was basic or non-existent and brakes were either fierce or ineffective.  Those cadets who were not rich but could (just) afford an old banger would chauffeur their enthusiastic fellow cadets to the bright lights of London after the week’s tribulations were done.

A weekend away was fun and often exhausting so that Monday morning’s rude awakening in the far too early hours was a shock to the system of the cadet about town. On parade his sleepiness might bring him to the attention of the Sergeant Major who had a unique way of waking him up.

‘Change parade,’ he ordered and the cadet doubled into his room to change uniform. Presenting himself on the parade ground he was immediately ordered to ‘change parade’ whereupon he would quick march back to his room to undress and dress again in a different uniform. Back in front of the warrant officer he would hear the order, ‘Change parade’ and would go quickly to his room to switch uniforms once more. This would continue until the officer on parade decided the unfortunate cadet was now fully awake and attentive and could rejoin the ranks of his more alert brother cadets.

It may sound harsh but however tired an officer may be he must always be vigilant on duty and the staff at RMAS took and continue to take their task of training young cadets very seriously.

Today’s cadets have a much shorter training period but still must learn to cope with weariness – their lives or the lives of the men and women they command may be at risk. Thus, when fatigue threatens to overwhelm and they feel sleep overcoming them, they are told they must stand up. The lecturers are accustomed to seeing one after another cadet standing up in their lecture rooms. If cadets have been on exercise for a few days it is probable that lecturers are faced with a roomful of young men and women standing and attempting to absorb what they are being taught.

ABC Wednesday D is for Dettingen

Painting by John Mackenzie

Image courtesy of www.britishbattles.com

The Battle of Dettingen was fought on 27^th June, 1743.

50,000 British, Hanoverian and Austrian troops of the Pragmatic Army opposed 70,000 French troops at the village of Dettingen in Bavaria. The Pragmatic Army was so called because it was a confederation of states supporting the Pragmatic Sanction of 1713 agreements. The objectives were to preserve the independence of Hanover and to support the claim of Maria Theresa to be recognised as Archduchess of Austria and the legitimate heir to the Habsburg Dynasty.

George II at Dettingen 

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

It was a significant victory because it was the last time British troops were led into battle by a reigning monarch - King George II.

It is also important because before the engagement the opposing sides agreed that sick and wounded soldiers who fell into enemy hands would be properly cared for and not treated as prisoners of war. This was a precursor of the Geneva Conventions that set the standards in international law for the humanitarian treatment of war victims.

As a salute to this victory Handel composed the Dettingen Te Deum and the Dettingen Anthem.

Since 1947 Dettingen has been the name of one of the companies at the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst. All the companies at this training establishment for officer cadets are named after noteworthy British victories.


Why not seek out further Ds which Delightful Denise Nesbitt and her Diligent Devotees have Delivered here?

Brought to mind . . .

I have just been reading Denise's post (An English Girl Rambles) about the first gift her husband, at that time her fairly recent boyfriend, gave her. It was so romantic and I sighed happily and smiled and thought, 'What was the first thing Barry ever gave me?'
I asked him a few moments ago if he remembered and he replied instantly and, what is more, correctly! I was most impressed. It was, after all, a very long time ago! He was then an officer cadet at RMA Sandhurst, frantically fit, a boxer (excellent), runner (life-long) and enthusiastic participant in many another sweat-inducing sport and pastime. He was straight-backed, square-shouldered, blue-eyed and blond. To be more precise his hair was sandy rather than golden. It was this that made me compare him to a child's toy, a bear, and to his credit he was touched rather than irritated! The next time he came to see me he gave me a cuddly, growly teddy bear, which kept me company all the times we were apart and who later growled for our small children to make them smile.

My bear still has his growl, but he lost his original ribbon many years ago – I think it was red. His fur is worn and thin in places and his stuffing is forcing its way out. He really should spend time in the dolls' hospital but I don't want to send him away so he lives quietly in a drawer now, only occasionally emerging for a quick cuddle or, as today, a photo call!

Thank you, Denise, for jogging my memory. My bear was the first of many thoughtful gifts from my husband. Barry's hair is still sandy, touched with grey, his eyes still blue, but the military bearing disappeared long ago, the result, he swears, of all the cross-country running he's done through the decades.

A growly bear and flowers whose heads fell off remain memories that always make me smile – and the fact that he used to shave in the train on his way to see me.

Tales from the Academy – Anyone for the 3/9ds?

We live a few miles from the RMAS and can often hear the sound of small arms fire in the wee hours of the night and thus we know that Sandhurst is on exercise (known as manoeuvres in other countries) Exercises are conducted at regular intervals and the weather makes little difference to the plans. It may be hot and humid, foggy, frosty, snowy or cool and dry. Memory suggests that in the 1960s it was usually cold, wet and miserable, with icy rain being directed by north-easterly winds into the frozen visages of miserable cadets in muddy dug-outs. If conditions were extreme ponchos were issued but otherwise the only item each one had to shield him from the elements was a thin army blanket which acted more as a wick for the rain than a protection. Worse even than the ice-block feet was the total boredom as the young men wished themselves elsewhere as they waited for 'things' to happen.

Occasionally the boredom was alleviated by happy chance. The areas in which exercises were organised were generally remote, off the beaten track, isolated, inaccessible . . . except, in some cases, by car. In those self-consciously law-abiding, ostensibly very moral days, young unmarried people were expected to restrain their natural urges and wait for marriage to allow full expression. They were not encouraged to entertain the opposite sex in their bedrooms where in any case the temperature was not very different from the outside. There was no privacy in their homes and no central heating so everyone huddled in the one room that was kept warm. The one place where some sort of seclusion might be found was in a car.

So it was one night that one couple found a secluded spot to take time for themselves, unaware that they were in full view of a number of cadets in camouflage. As the scene unfolded and the car windows became increasingly fogged someone called out, 'Anyone for the 3/9ds?' (that being the price of a cinema ticket at the time)

As soon as the words were spoken the car driver revved up his engine and sped away as fast as the muddy, uneven terrain would allow, leaving behind a chorus of chortling cadets.

Tales from the Academy – Barossa Buggies

In the early 60s there was a growing interest in the hobby of Barossa Buggies. Such buggies were created by stripping off the bodywork of cars leaving just the chassis, engine and seats. These skeleton vehicles were highly mobile and light and could be driven at speed round the RMAS training grounds. Allegedly even the Commandant acquired one. They gained their name from the muddy Barossa training ground behind the Academy.

Unfortunately the favoured area in which to play with these buggies was also used for large and important demonstrations of military operations. One day a sizeable group of official onlookers had gathered to witness a demonstration of an ambush. (Yes, really . . .)

The carefully planned proposal was that a significant number of selected guests would visit the ambush site to see people emerging off-stage left, walking through the designated area and being successfully ensnared.

Unhappily, unbeknown to the organisers of the ambush, some cadets had decided to take a recreational trip in their Barossa Buggy at the same time and place as the official demonstration and so the two events coincided. Thus, instead of demonstrating how effective an ambush could be against a slowly walking group of people the Barossa Buggy, going flat out, tore through the affair without a shot being fired.

As Robbie Burns would have commented, 'The best laid schemes o' mice an' men /Gang aft a-gley.'

Tales from the Academy – bicycle drill

Whenever possible everything at Sandhurst was accomplished by some sort of drill. It's the military way!

One of the lesser known aspects of the course was Bicycle Drill which had connotations of Cavalry drill, particularly in terms of mounting and dismounting in formation (bikes, not horses!) It was conducted seriously and correctly on the parade ground.

The fun really began when the formation of bikes was allowed to break out into a lesser, semi-disciplined company heading across country to the firing ranges.

At this time the eagle eyes of the accompanying instructors – Warrant Officers and senior NCOs – were less eagle-like and, particularly when bikes were travelling at speed, entertainment could be engendered by inserting a stout stick between the spokes of a colleague's wheels.

This stage of bicycle drill also provided an opportunity to discriminate between those who had long been accustomed to riding bikes before entering the Academy and those who had not. Those cadets whose privileged backgrounds had not alerted them to two-wheeled transport and who, indeed, were rather more used to four-legged mounts or comfortable cars, proved to be rather vulnerable both on the parade ground in tight formation and even more so when freewheeling. They were immediately noticeable by their inability to proceed in a straight line, the wavering, zigzag forward motion of their mounts becoming increasingly exaggerated until at last they fell off, with or without assistance.

Tales from the Academy – the empty door

As is probably the case at other military officer training establishments across the world it is the custom at Sandhurst to conduct early morning inspections. The cadets in the new intake may never have experienced such occurrences but soon become accustomed to them, alongside the traditional 'bulling' – that is, polishing your boots to an insanely high mirror-like gloss and your brass buttons till they gleam along with anything else that is metal or leather and likely to be on show.

Morning inspection requires the cadet's room, bed, locker to be immaculate and the person of the cadet to be standing to attention by his open door. One morning the inspection party was proceeding as usual, finding minor infringements wheresoever they might be. The corridor had many doors outside which stood many cadets hoping that this time they would pass muster. Suddenly the party came to a halt for the door they had arrived at was closed with no-one in attendance. Inspection eyes could not be believed; cadets' ears were pinned back while their eyes developed extraordinary degrees of peripheral vision.

There was a loud knocking on the door which brought forth no reaction. The door hammering that followed elicited an unexpected response.

A languid voice was heard saying, 'If you're nice, come in. If you're not, go away.'

Cadets within earshot struggled to contain their mirth. Next morning, all were present and correct for inspection. It's sad to reflect that so many of those bright, amusing, hopeful young men lost their lives in various skirmishes around the world. It's tragic that so many, of all ranks, are still being killed or maimed in wars of doubtful worth.

Tales from the Academy – Crime and Punishment

In order to become 'leaders of men' officer cadets must first learn to follow orders and adhere to regulations. The motto of Sandhurst is 'Serve to Lead' and the young men and women are trained to do just that. Only by following a set of rules and understanding what that entails can they hope to impose sets of laws on their subordinates.

To that end – and of course it may not be the case now – miscreant cadets could be put in jankers for a short while. This was not as severe as might be expected requiring simply that the offender be marched into the guard house, kept there for a matter of one or two minutes and then marched out again.

On one very hot day when the cadets were parading in number two dress Academy Sergeant Major Jackie Lord took pity on them and said, 'Gentlemen, you may remove your service dress.' This was less an invitation than an order and so around a thousand cadets removed their jackets to reveal that they had already taken measures to keep as cool as possible. Instead of regulation shirts they were wearing what can only be described as 'dickey fronts'. Apoplectic with rage the ASM ordered them all into the guard house. A revolving door would have been useful on that occasion but it serves as an example that orders must be obeyed and they include wearing full uniform when required.

Tales from the Academy – milling

RC, sadly no longer with us, was a gentle young man and one of the nicest people anyone could meet. He was also a gifted boxer. Terry Downes, World Middleweight Champion in 1961, considered him the best amateur he'd ever seen. He was unusual in that he could knock out with either hand. He had had a lot of experience before going to Sandhurst, fighting in amateur matches and fairground booths.

One day, not long after his arrival at the academy the cadets were milling, practising their technique. The PTI (Physical Training Instructor) looked around for a suitable candidate for his demonstration and his eyes fell on RC. Now RC was well-built, big and strong; he looked and walked and carried himself like a boxer – he was a prime example of a pugilist. The PTI, himself a big man, called him over and said, 'Come on now, sir, hit me.'

RC protested, 'Excuse me, Staff . . .' but the instructor was insistent. 'No, come on, sir, hit me – hit me as hard as you can.'

Once again RC said, 'Excuse me, Staff, but . . . ' only to be interrupted once more by the PTI. 'Come on sir, hit me.'

The rest of the cadets were agog for they knew RC's capabilities. Reluctantly RC did as ordered and threw a punch at the PTI who fell to the floor, pole axed. When the instructor gathered his wits and rose groggily to his feet, he gazed glassily at RC and said, 'You've done this before haven't you sir?'

Tales from the Academy – Company Night and a Dip in the Lake

In the 1960s officer cadets were assigned to companies in Old College, New College or Victory College. Now there are only two colleges, Old and New, and the intakes are no longer entirely male.

It was then the custom to have a Company Night, which was a fancy term for a pub crawl. Dettingen Company had a memorable night – and morning after – in the early 1960s.The cadets, full of enthusiasm for a good night out and unused to large quantities of drink, no matter how they might boast of their capacity, enjoyed a raucous evening with their Sergeant Major and returned to the Academy in high spirits. In the general hilarity their unfortunate Warrant Officer found himself tipped unceremoniously into the lake.

The cadets rose for parade the following morning with sore heads and bleary eyes. The Sergeant Major, their entertaining and jovial companion of the previous evening, brought them to attention and then ordered them to march into the lake where they remained for some considerable time while he advised them of his views on the proper attention and respect due to Warrant Officers in the British Army.

The shivering cadets, in their soggy service dress uniforms, listened abjectly as they were berated for their appalling lack of judgement. Those nearest the bank were more fortunate than their companions further back for the water only reached their belts rather than their chests but the lesson was thoroughly learned by them all. There was no repetition of the exercise.

Tales from the Academy – bike and bash

Officers, retired, old or new, who were trained at the RMA, will have memories, fond or otherwise, of the 'Ten Mile Speed March' or 'Ten Mile Bash'. It is a test of endurance and must be completed within a specified time and will be repeated for any individuals not meeting the requirements.

On this particular day in the 1960s the officer cadets were assembled and ready, though perhaps not willing, to begin. A Sergeant Major accompanying them appeared wheeling his bicycle. Groans and mutterings abounded, albeit sotto voce, as the young men surveyed the man and his machine. No doubt they felt it unfair and not a little cruel for a senior NCO to make fun of them thus.

To their surprise, the Sergeant Major marched the whole distance with them, pushing his bicycle all the way. Their respect for the man increased ten-fold.

Tales from the Academy – English as she is spoke

Cadets for whom English is not their mother tongue soon acquire a working knowledge of the language, particularly the vernacular. Young men are not always pure of thought or word and their speech is often littered with expletives and epithets.

One cadet, however, had difficulties in learning the correct use of English. Unfortunately he was somewhat arrogant and rather a know-all and as such irritated his fellow cadets. If they tried to help him or correct his mistakes he would lose his temper and shout. One day, irate and frustrated, eyes bulging with rage, almost foaming at the mouth, he jabbed his finger angrily at the young men around him and spluttered, 'You . . . you . . . you . . . you think I know f***-nothing! I tell you, I know f***-all!'

From Wikipedia: English as She Is Spoke is the common name of a 19th century book credited to José da Fonseca and Pedro Carolino, which was intended as a Portuguese-English conversational guide or phrase book, but is regarded as a classic source of unintentional humour.

The humour appears to be a result of dictionary-aided literal translation, which causes many idiomatic expressions to be translated wildly inappropriately. For example, the Portuguese phrase chover a cântaros is translated as raining in jars, whereas an idiomatic English translation would be raining buckets.

Mark Twain said of English as She Is Spoke that "Nobody can add to the absurdity of this book, nobody can imitate it successfully, nobody can hope to produce its fellow; it is perfect."^[

Tales from the Academy – not your usual cadet!

The RMA is a great training ground for life. Young people with a wide variety of experiences from many different countries, cultures and backgrounds live, learn and train together in the Surrey academy and its surrounding acres of countryside.

Some cadets have great personal wealth while others come from more modest homes but upbringing is unimportant. Their shared Sandhurst experiences will give them a common bond throughout their lives. Occasionally there will be a cadet whose position in life has been exalted from the day of his birth and whose demeanour proclaims it daily. One such cadet, an overseas gentleman from an influential and important family, arrived at the Academy in a Mercedes limousine at a time when most cadets, if they had cars at all, were driving bone-shakers with no shock absorbers. He was also accompanied by a remarkable entourage of servants.

This cadet had been attended by servants throughout his short life (most joined the RMA at the age of eighteen) and he was accustomed to being dressed by them. Undoubtedly they also did all his 'bulling' – spit, polish, shine. One day on parade an eagle-eyed Warrant Officer noticed that the young man's anklets were upside down; he was given a loud and thorough dressing-down which must have been quite alarming for him. Later on, the hapless servant who had unwittingly dressed his master incorrectly was given a beating. I doubt he repeated the error.

Tales from the Academy – parachutes and a bicycle

The day of the first parachute jump approaches and the cadets are apprehensive. They have dropped from great heights in a safe environment and mastered the technique of landing without breaking their legs. The theory is in place, the drills completed and they are soon to experience a real parachute descent. They feel excited, sick, frightened. Suppose the parachute doesn't open? Suppose they forget correct landing procedure? Suppose they had opted to acquire a different skill? Too late! No backing out now. Can't lose face, even though they might lose breakfast.

Their Sergeant Major is accompanying them and he will jump first. That will give them confidence. What's this? A bicycle? The aircraft reaches the dropping zone and the Sergeant Major is preparing to jump. Calmly he mounts his bicycle and rides out of the aircraft. The cadets follow eagerly, all trepidation forgotten in their quest to see what happens next.

What a way to inspire young people!

Though the preceding details are correct certain facts may have been omitted in the interests of protecting the innocent!!

Tales from the Academy – teeth!

Sandhurst officer cadets learn very quickly that it is unwise to do anything that might draw close attention. Talking in the ranks on parade is strictly discouraged and so the participants learn to develop extraordinary ventriloquial skills. On the parade ground impassivity is required no matter what might be happening and the cadets discover that they can display monumental self-control.

On one such occasion this self-discipline was tested to the very limit. The Warrant Officer taking the parade was an imposing Irish Guard of great stature and ferocity splendidly turned out in impeccable style. A small incident, now lost to memory, caused him to remonstrate fervently and at length with the offending cadet to the entertainment of his peers. The WO got into his verbal stride, seeking ever more amusingly cutting comments. His decibel level increased in step with his creativity. As he reached his apogee his false teeth flew out and the cadets were hard-pressed to contain their mirth.

History has not recorded how the teeth were recovered and by whom.

Though the preceding details are correct certain facts may have been omitted in the interests of protecting the innocent!!

Tales from the Academy – ASM J C Lord

'The Royal Military Academy Sandhurst' is variously known as 'The Academy', 'The RMA', 'The RMAS' or just simply 'Sandhurst'. It has trained countless officer cadets who all have memorable moments to recount, many of them involving the Warrant Officers who drilled them so thoroughly (some might say relentlessly).

Academy Sergeant Major J C Lord MVO MBE was an impressive character. Wounded and captured at Arnhem in 1944 he was taken to Stalag XIB Prisoner of War Camp where conditions were deplorable. Through his strength of personality and enduring military discipline RSM Lord, as he then was, raised the prisoners' morale and rebuilt their confidence and pride.

The title of Academy Sergeant Major is the highest non-commissioned rank in the British Army and there is only ever one man who carries it. All other WOs are junior in rank to him.

At officer cadets' first parade J C Lord would address them, pace stick under arm. 'Gentlemen, I will call you 'Sir' but I will not mean it. You will address me as 'Sir' and you will mean it.' ASM Lord had an extraordinary eye for detail and would spot an infringement in dress or behaviour from a great distance. With one thousand cadets on parade all dressed alike, usually in service dress, he would order his subordinates to 'fetch that idle man over there.' The Warrant Officers would scurry about seeking the miscreant and would shout, 'This one, sir?' and ASM Lord would shout back, 'No!' Another cadet would be pointed out; 'This one, sir?'

'No' would come the reply. A third unfortunate would be singled out – 'This one, sir?'

'No' was shouted back.

Eventually, with WOs trying their hardest to find the cause of their ASM's distress, 'This one, sir?' would bring the response, 'NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! – but he'll do!'

Depending on the severity of the 'crime' the culprit might then find himself detained in the Guard House, of which more anon.

Though the preceding details are correct certain facts may have been omitted in the interests of protecting the innocent!!