 |
 |
|
|
The light house keepers provided us with a scorpion, whose sting they had removed.
I remember now the squeal of the unpopular squaddie when his foot alighted upon
the reptile between his sheets.
Back in fabulous Hong Kong I had the occasional duty of marching out the guard. One of the main duties was to prevent the Chinese climbing the sixteen foot barbed wire surmounted fences and stealing the fans; they still succeeded with monotonous regularity.
On one particular night, when I was in charge of the Whitfield Barracks Guard, there was a problem. A WAAF in the camp was raped and being on guard we were all asked about events that night. Special police said "you read out standing orders". "Well as a matter of fact no, they had all heard them before". "Every two hours you marched out the men to their guard posts?". "We'll, no, they all knew where to go". Events culminated in an identity parade consisting of the guard. The young lady stopped at the slightly built man standing next to me and he ended up in the glasshouse!!