I spent a few weeks at my dads house prior to leaving to go to Bovington. This was a strange time for me, I had gotten very attached the Depot in Ballymena and the thought of starting again in a new camp was daunting. My flight was booked to fly from George Best Airport in Belfast to London Heathrow. Then we would travel down to Bovington on the south coast of England, by train. There were only 4 of us that had joined the tank regiments and I must say none of the 4 I was particularly close to. We arrived at the camp and it had none of the grandeur of the camp in Ballymena in my eyes. It was absolutely enormous, also. We were shown to our room and split up. I was put into a room with three other English lads that I didn't know. I felt uneasy from the outset.
The first day we were broken down into our Troops and the first element of training you do in Bovington is to learn to drive a car. What the instructors didn't know was at the time I was still only 16 and was too young to take this part of the course. When the instructors found out about this they informed me that I had to go to into Holding Troop until I was old enough to learn how to drive. Holding Troop is where people go that are on long term sickness, or wanting to leave, or just generally a misfit. I felt like I wasn't in any of those categories, I was fit, keen, and wanted to get through this. I was moved accommodation into where the Holding Troop recruits all stayed. This was a tough time for me, it was boring and we didn't do much.
We had to do the commanding officers PT on a Friday morning, what this entailed was a race around a course near the camp, the last 20 people in the race had to do remedial fitness on a Saturday. This race included every soldier training in Bovington. The first time I did it incredibly I came first. I remember the CO asking me my name, and when he found out I was in Holding Troop how surprised he looked. I think this was another example of me hiding behind fitness to impress people. I suppose a positive about living in Bovington was that I was only 2 train trips away from my mother in Manchester. I remember when one Friday we had our Friday inspection, which was delayed. I didn't get out of the camp until after 6pm. I had to travel to London from Bovington and missed the last train to Manchester from Euston Train Station. The security guard allowed me to sleep in Euston Station for the night. I remember feeling bad that I had been allowed to sleep in the station and there were homeless people just outside the shutters, looking in.
I continued for another number of months in Bovington and during this time my great grandmother passed away. She was in her late 90's and had been suffering badly with Alzheimer's for a number of years before her death. I flew home for her funeral and when I was due to go back to Bovington I felt a real sickness in my stomach and really didn't want to live in England again. When I got back to Bovington I applied to return back to Northern Ireland and serve in the Royal Irish Regiment Home Service. The instructors at Bovington did not take kindly to this and I was ostracised by many of them because of it. They finally accepted my application and I was allowed to return home to serve in the Royal Irish, phase 2 training for this would be back to Ballymena which I couldn't have been more excited for.
I arrived back in Ballymena and went to the guardroom. From the outset it was clear that what I had done did not go down well with the staff there. I had seemingly cast shame on them coming back like I did. I was put into a platoon with many of the people I was in phase 1 training with, which was comforting. There was one instructor in the platoon that took a particular dislike to me and no matter what I did I didn't do it right in his eyes. I look back now he was clearly bullying me. We did an exercise in a place called Magilligan in Co Antrim and were practicing fire and manoeuvre techniques. I was in the firing position on the ground and for whatever reason wasn't doing what he wanted me to do, he ran over and grabbed my helmet and pulled me up to my feet, as he did this my chin strap caught my nose and blood spilled out of it. I shouted at him "what the fuck do you think you are doing" his whole demeanour changed, a clear example of me standing up to a bully and the bully backed down. I continued on this course and my fitness continued to get better, but I was noticing my speech more and more being an issue. I hid behind it and I ended up the fittest person in the platoon, my runs and tests were all really positive.
The last camp in phase 2 was called Battle Camp, this was a 3 week event that was notorious for being tough, you got no sleep and had to tab from the camp beside Magilliagn Prison to Binevenagh Mountain and stay on the mountain for a number of days, then tab back down to finish it. I remember on the last day we had just marched down the mountain and were standing round on the side of a road. We were all told to get our packs on and that we were going to play "it pays to be a winner" this was another name for a "beasting" session. What it entailed was a 200 metre race involving the entire platoon, the first 5 back do not have to go again. This would continue until the last 5 people in the platoon. We started and I just took off, I left everyone behind and came in first. This meant of course, that I wouldn't have to go again. I didn't feel good about standing there with the other 4 people so got my kit back on and ran back down to encourage the others that were struggling with the run. I must have went up and down 4 times. When I stopped one of the instructors said "well done" to me. That was the most praise I had in the 3 months I was in that platoon. The platoon was told to fall in on the road and I was asked to march everyone back to the rooms, something that normally was asked of more popular recruits.
I felt elated, I felt I had literally made them respect me, I had put up with all their shit and in the end they realised I wasn't giving up.
My pass out parade for phase 2 was again in Ballymena and I remember it was a nice day, but nothing special in comparison to the phase 1 pass out parade.
I was informed I would be joining 9 Royal Irish in Antrim. I wasn't overly excited about this, the hardship of the training depot's I had become comfortable with, it seemed safe and I knew what I had to do and to this day I missed it. Moving to Battalion just seemed like another unknown thing to deal with.
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
Saturday, May 4, 2019
Little Bit about Me Part 5
We all got on the coach at Palace Barracks and left for Ballymena. I can remember being super excited, we all were. There were people on that bus that I am still friends with now, 20 years later. Some were chatting and others were listening to their portable cd players. I remember looking out of the bus window as it drove up the hill section of the M2 and seeing my dads flat and thinking this was it, I asked to do this so I better put my all into it.
We arrived at St Patrick's Barracks in Ballymena, also known as The Depot, it was a splendid camp and steeped in history. It felt good to be back in an army camp again, I hadn't seen the inside of one properly since I was an army cadet. I felt secure in here, this was my world. As soon as the bus door opened an instructor walked on board and screamed at us to get off the bus and line up. I had been shouted at before in the cadets, I knew what this was, but others weren't so comfortable with this and I could see them struggling from the outset. We were all told to put our mobile phones and cd players in a black bag, we wouldn't need them for a while.
We started off with around 60 people, a huge platoon but I think we lost at least 5 in the first week. Things were tough and we were after all, just children. In fact, I was reliably informed that at 16 and two months I was the youngest soldier to ever pass through the Depot. I was very proud of this record and to my knowledge it's never been beaten. When I first started training my fitness was very poor, I remember failing my basic fitness test which included a certain number of sit ups, press ups and a 1.5 mile run in under 13 minutes. I smoked and didn't have a good diet prior to starting the course and it showed early on. One thing about me is that I am very proud and do not like looking bad. I would have trained in my own time at night and did my own runs in order to get my fitness up to speed. I began to improve drastically, I went from being in the last 10 on every run to being in the top 3 on a regular basis. My PB on the 1.5 mile run was down to under 8 minutes. Where I really excelled was when tabbing, tab stands for "tactical advance to battle" which meant walking and running with weight on your back. I seemed to find this easier than most in my platoon and it was appreciated by my instructors. Someone had told me that to get through phase one training you needed to be fit, so I threw my all into fitness. It masked the fact of my poor speaking, I could impress people with that as I wouldn't be able to do it with my communication skills. This was just another example of how I would hide away. I remember one instructor making fun of my speech, it's funny how all the great things I did on that course get quickly forgotten and that one incident is imprinted in my head.
We had weekly inspections on the course on a Friday, one of these inspections was particularly important as we were all able to go home for the weekend. We had only been home once since the course started so we were all super excited to get this weekend off. I felt like a break from the 6am starts and being shouted at was needed. The only stipulation was that you had to pass this inspection. Inspections were broke into 2 parts, you had block jobs (meaning cleaning the block where we lived) and then your own personal kit and locker would be looked at. The block jobs were everyone's responsibility, your own kit was yours. I remember going to town on this inspection. I cleaned absolutely everywhere. I remember one of the instructors having to tell me to climb down from a chair in the hallway as I was dusting a light. One thing I didn't do, was check inside my cup in my locker.. When the inspection came our platoon commander was very impressed with our room and I thought I was well on my way home! Soon as he lifted out my cup my heart sank, he rubbed his finger inside with his white gloves on, then showed me the dust. He threw the cup down on my bed and snarled, "you're going nowhere this weekend". I could not believe it. I went to the bathroom and cried my eyes out. I watched everyone getting ready and leaving and I had to stay in Ballymena on my own for the weekend. It was funny, I felt like such a failure but it really taught me a lesson. It never happened again in my army career, I always passed inspections.
People continued to leave the platoon, I have to admit though when someone left it gave me a boost to keep going and that I must be stronger than the ones leaving. I feel bad about feeling like that. I never considered leaving, not once. This was everything I had. The ones that were leaving were going back to their towns in NI, to their friends and family that they missed. I saw it that I didn't have that, I didn't have that to go back to. I would go back to being nobody and have nothing. I did have family of course, but there was just something missing with my mum, brother, and sister being in England.
I passed my phase 1 and my pass out parade was held at The Deport, I have to say this was up until that point, the happiest day of of my life. I had actually achieved something that so many people can't and won't put themselves through. All my family came including my late grandfather. I have a great picture of him and me on that day and he was so proud of me. My granddad was the greatest man I ever knew, the epitome of decency. He would have given me anything and I respected him.
I got a few weeks leave after the course and had a flight booked to England to a place called Bovington to do my phase two, where you were taught to drive tanks.
We arrived at St Patrick's Barracks in Ballymena, also known as The Depot, it was a splendid camp and steeped in history. It felt good to be back in an army camp again, I hadn't seen the inside of one properly since I was an army cadet. I felt secure in here, this was my world. As soon as the bus door opened an instructor walked on board and screamed at us to get off the bus and line up. I had been shouted at before in the cadets, I knew what this was, but others weren't so comfortable with this and I could see them struggling from the outset. We were all told to put our mobile phones and cd players in a black bag, we wouldn't need them for a while.
We started off with around 60 people, a huge platoon but I think we lost at least 5 in the first week. Things were tough and we were after all, just children. In fact, I was reliably informed that at 16 and two months I was the youngest soldier to ever pass through the Depot. I was very proud of this record and to my knowledge it's never been beaten. When I first started training my fitness was very poor, I remember failing my basic fitness test which included a certain number of sit ups, press ups and a 1.5 mile run in under 13 minutes. I smoked and didn't have a good diet prior to starting the course and it showed early on. One thing about me is that I am very proud and do not like looking bad. I would have trained in my own time at night and did my own runs in order to get my fitness up to speed. I began to improve drastically, I went from being in the last 10 on every run to being in the top 3 on a regular basis. My PB on the 1.5 mile run was down to under 8 minutes. Where I really excelled was when tabbing, tab stands for "tactical advance to battle" which meant walking and running with weight on your back. I seemed to find this easier than most in my platoon and it was appreciated by my instructors. Someone had told me that to get through phase one training you needed to be fit, so I threw my all into fitness. It masked the fact of my poor speaking, I could impress people with that as I wouldn't be able to do it with my communication skills. This was just another example of how I would hide away. I remember one instructor making fun of my speech, it's funny how all the great things I did on that course get quickly forgotten and that one incident is imprinted in my head.
We had weekly inspections on the course on a Friday, one of these inspections was particularly important as we were all able to go home for the weekend. We had only been home once since the course started so we were all super excited to get this weekend off. I felt like a break from the 6am starts and being shouted at was needed. The only stipulation was that you had to pass this inspection. Inspections were broke into 2 parts, you had block jobs (meaning cleaning the block where we lived) and then your own personal kit and locker would be looked at. The block jobs were everyone's responsibility, your own kit was yours. I remember going to town on this inspection. I cleaned absolutely everywhere. I remember one of the instructors having to tell me to climb down from a chair in the hallway as I was dusting a light. One thing I didn't do, was check inside my cup in my locker.. When the inspection came our platoon commander was very impressed with our room and I thought I was well on my way home! Soon as he lifted out my cup my heart sank, he rubbed his finger inside with his white gloves on, then showed me the dust. He threw the cup down on my bed and snarled, "you're going nowhere this weekend". I could not believe it. I went to the bathroom and cried my eyes out. I watched everyone getting ready and leaving and I had to stay in Ballymena on my own for the weekend. It was funny, I felt like such a failure but it really taught me a lesson. It never happened again in my army career, I always passed inspections.
People continued to leave the platoon, I have to admit though when someone left it gave me a boost to keep going and that I must be stronger than the ones leaving. I feel bad about feeling like that. I never considered leaving, not once. This was everything I had. The ones that were leaving were going back to their towns in NI, to their friends and family that they missed. I saw it that I didn't have that, I didn't have that to go back to. I would go back to being nobody and have nothing. I did have family of course, but there was just something missing with my mum, brother, and sister being in England.
I passed my phase 1 and my pass out parade was held at The Deport, I have to say this was up until that point, the happiest day of of my life. I had actually achieved something that so many people can't and won't put themselves through. All my family came including my late grandfather. I have a great picture of him and me on that day and he was so proud of me. My granddad was the greatest man I ever knew, the epitome of decency. He would have given me anything and I respected him.
I got a few weeks leave after the course and had a flight booked to England to a place called Bovington to do my phase two, where you were taught to drive tanks.
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