George Spenceley relives his army training days in the 1950's and the many friends and memories he recalls.

My army training at Oswestry seemed to go on for ever. I thought I was fit until the NCO's started shouting their instructions, the drills and exercises we were expected to do seemed to me to be excessive, especially physical training and learning to march.

Ref 37-My call up

Thinking back it was hilarious, but not at the time. Just think, thirty young lads in groups marching up and down a parade ground, we were all afraid that we might be the only one to make a mistake and in fear of being balled out by the NCO.

Ref 38 Army Recruit

We'd be marching along as best we could when the order to about turn would be given. Most of the recruits would hear the command but one or two would be sure to miss it and would carry on marching forward. You can imagine the mess we were in.

Ref 39-Myself (A)

Another occasion was when we were called to halt, most stopped but others concentrating hard just kept going. It caused a great deal of confusion. We were told that drill was discipline and we were being trained to act on a given command together.

It worked after a while and I felt quite proud marching and drilling all in step together. Physical Training was difficult, the jumping up and down and arm and leg exercises were a piece of cake but when I had to try my strength in push ups and pulling myself up on the bars I found it very hard.

My only consolation was that the others had the same problems. Ah well that was training to be a soldier. The final week of army training consisted of tests, shooting, signalling and physical fitness. Apart from the usual P.T. exercises we had to run a mile in a set time.

Another day it was an enforced run over seven miles. We had to run awhile then march quickly, then run again, carrying our rifle and backpacks. It was shattering. We were encouraged on by the NCO's shouting 'Hurry up and you'll be in time for the morning NAFFI break'.

Exhausted I made it, but as I removed or tried to remove my pack to get a well deserved cup of tea I found my hands were so numb and swollen that it was a problem to get money out of my pocket to pay for the snack.

Some of the lad's fingers were so swollen that they had to ask the NAFFI girls who were serving to come around the bar and get the money from their pockets.

This caused a lot of laughter and barracking from those who hadn't been on the run. 'Don't worry your turn will come' one of the lads shouted.

George Spenceley, 2002