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Authors: Anton Rippon
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triumph had gone ahead of me and it had obviously been decided to take me down a peg or two. I arrived to find that I’d been placed on duty all weekend, which was a big joke in
the sergeants’ mess as they were all going into the nearby town for a big party.
I borrowed a Jeep and found a chemist and squared him with ten bob [50p]. He made up a purgative much like cascara [a plant known for its laxative properties] in powder form. I went into the
mess half an hour before guard mounting and dosed three teapots in the spout and awaited results. The powder would work in about two to three hours.
The first sergeant caught was waiting for a bus with his girlfriend. Two more had caught a bus back to the barracks but they were delayed. Another came into the guardroom but the door to the
toilets was locked. The RSM was on his way to the wagon lines. He borrowed a bicycle but never made it. All were back in barracks by ten o’clock.
An anonymous army sergeant, Bognor Regis
In March 1941, I arrived at Uxbridge to attend initial training for my RAF police course. We were given a lecture by the accounts officer and asked if we would care to make a
contribution to the CO’s fund. He explained that there was a box outside his office and he would appreciate it if all donations could be placed in an envelope for his attention. After the
lecture I discussed this problem with my new comrades. We decided that, since most of us were married, we couldn’t afford to donate anything. About a fortnight later we were all in the
classroom awaiting the arrival of our instructor when he burst in waving an envelope. His face was livid.
‘Who’s the funny man that sent this letter to the accounts officer?’
He took the letter from the envelope and read it out: ‘The wages of sin are death, but the wages of an AC2 are a bloody sight worse!’
He never did find out who sent that letter . . .
A. Jones, Huntingdon
Two sergeants were sent on ‘initiative training’. Off they went in full kit and were allowed only a half-crown [13p] between them. They had to travel into another
county and were told to ‘find the master of the Beaufort Hounds and ask him to sign your pay book’.
The two men found the home of the master of the hunt, Badminton House, and rang the doorbell. The butler who answered told them that the duke was away. He was about to close the door when a
female voice from within said: ‘Don’t send them away. Let me speak to them.’
To the amazement of the two young men, they saw that it was Queen Mary, mother of King George VI. After listening to their story, she said: ‘As the duke is out, will my signature
do?’
She took the two bewildered sergeants into the house and wrote in their pay books: ‘Certified that the holder came to Badminton House, Mary R.’
Alan Cox, Epsom
During the war I was in the RAF and attached to an Australian squadron in Scotland. As you know the Aussies have a rather rare sense of humour, so I’ll tell you the
following incident.
An Aussie airman was washing his dirty overalls in a bucket of petrol in the hanger and a friend of his who was passing said: ‘Hello, cobber, are you washing your undies?’
Then quickly came the reply: ‘No mate, I’m washing my overies!’
LAC C. H. Campbell
On the Friday we arrived at RAF Uxbridge, we received instructions on the procedures when entering a church on church parade. On climbing the third step before entering the
church you were to take off your hat. The following Sunday everything went according to plan until half the squadron were in church and then one poor chap forgot to take off his hat as he
reached the third step. He had just taken another step when the booming voice of the parade sergeant bellowed from behind: ‘Take your bleeding hat off in God’s House!’
A. Jones, Huntingdon
I was in the Durham Light Infantry and later in the KOYLI [King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry]. During our training at Brancepeth
the sergeants’ mess as they were all going into the nearby town for a big party.
I borrowed a Jeep and found a chemist and squared him with ten bob [50p]. He made up a purgative much like cascara [a plant known for its laxative properties] in powder form. I went into the
mess half an hour before guard mounting and dosed three teapots in the spout and awaited results. The powder would work in about two to three hours.
The first sergeant caught was waiting for a bus with his girlfriend. Two more had caught a bus back to the barracks but they were delayed. Another came into the guardroom but the door to the
toilets was locked. The RSM was on his way to the wagon lines. He borrowed a bicycle but never made it. All were back in barracks by ten o’clock.
An anonymous army sergeant, Bognor Regis
In March 1941, I arrived at Uxbridge to attend initial training for my RAF police course. We were given a lecture by the accounts officer and asked if we would care to make a
contribution to the CO’s fund. He explained that there was a box outside his office and he would appreciate it if all donations could be placed in an envelope for his attention. After the
lecture I discussed this problem with my new comrades. We decided that, since most of us were married, we couldn’t afford to donate anything. About a fortnight later we were all in the
classroom awaiting the arrival of our instructor when he burst in waving an envelope. His face was livid.
‘Who’s the funny man that sent this letter to the accounts officer?’
He took the letter from the envelope and read it out: ‘The wages of sin are death, but the wages of an AC2 are a bloody sight worse!’
He never did find out who sent that letter . . .
A. Jones, Huntingdon
Two sergeants were sent on ‘initiative training’. Off they went in full kit and were allowed only a half-crown [13p] between them. They had to travel into another
county and were told to ‘find the master of the Beaufort Hounds and ask him to sign your pay book’.
The two men found the home of the master of the hunt, Badminton House, and rang the doorbell. The butler who answered told them that the duke was away. He was about to close the door when a
female voice from within said: ‘Don’t send them away. Let me speak to them.’
To the amazement of the two young men, they saw that it was Queen Mary, mother of King George VI. After listening to their story, she said: ‘As the duke is out, will my signature
do?’
She took the two bewildered sergeants into the house and wrote in their pay books: ‘Certified that the holder came to Badminton House, Mary R.’
Alan Cox, Epsom
During the war I was in the RAF and attached to an Australian squadron in Scotland. As you know the Aussies have a rather rare sense of humour, so I’ll tell you the
following incident.
An Aussie airman was washing his dirty overalls in a bucket of petrol in the hanger and a friend of his who was passing said: ‘Hello, cobber, are you washing your undies?’
Then quickly came the reply: ‘No mate, I’m washing my overies!’
LAC C. H. Campbell
On the Friday we arrived at RAF Uxbridge, we received instructions on the procedures when entering a church on church parade. On climbing the third step before entering the
church you were to take off your hat. The following Sunday everything went according to plan until half the squadron were in church and then one poor chap forgot to take off his hat as he
reached the third step. He had just taken another step when the booming voice of the parade sergeant bellowed from behind: ‘Take your bleeding hat off in God’s House!’
A. Jones, Huntingdon
I was in the Durham Light Infantry and later in the KOYLI [King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry]. During our training at Brancepeth
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