Inspired by Pseu’s reminiscence on her training days, a little anecdote from my Army days. I have three good friends from those long-ago days. Of course, I have many friends from my time with the colours, but, by good friends, I mean the people who, if they say, “I need…,” I would answer, “OK,” before asking, “What?”
Whenever we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, or in rain, we always go out to eat, and the venue must be outside. Why?
When we were still serving, it was our habit, on getting back to barracks from the field, to sand-blast and scrub our hides, march our dirty gear under guard to the laundry, or, at least, into secure accommodation until laundry day came around, then tart ourselves up and go out to a decent restaurant for a good meal followed by a few buckets of good German beer.
One Autumn evening in the 70’s we had returned to our barracks in Muenster in Westphalia, from a field exercise which had been particularly hot, dry and dusty for a little over two weeks. We cleaned ourselves up, got into our going-to-town gear, and set off for the town. We decided to eat at a restaurant in the pedestrian area called “the Howling Bend,’ (die heulende Kurve,) – so-called because it was on a bend in what used to be the road where, in earlier days, the wheels of the trams would squeal like tortured cats, or so we were told – and, since the restaurant sign featured a tram, and there was a model tramway running around a shelf near the ceiling in the dining room, it’s probably authentic enough.
It was a pleasant Autumn evening but a little close and stuffy inside, so we decided to eat at a table outside. Part way through the meal, the wind got up followed by a spattering of rain. One of us ventured the opinion that we ought to move inside, but was out-voted by the rest of us who thought we’d probably be OK. Of course, we weren’t and it started to chuck it down. By this time though, we had hoisted a few steins. We decided that, after having been dried out to the point of desiccation over the last couple of weeks, a bit of rain wasn’t going to hurt us, so, to the general amusement of the diners inside, though not of the waiter who had to keep coming out juggling an umbrella and different plates of watery food, we finished our meal before retiring inside for a couple more jars.
Since then, we have always made a point to have a meal al fresco whenever we manage to get together, not always easy, and sometimes it takes a little ingenuity and persuasiveness to carry it off – one particular occasion in Maryport and six inches of snow comes to mind – but we manage.
Boadicea's Chariot 
“by good friends, I mean the people who, if they say, “I need…,” I would answer, “OK,” before asking, “What?” ”
I liked it very much. I’m blessed with a couple of such friends. I reckon which is the most valuable treasure in life.
Nice story, Bravo. Thank you for sharing
Thanks, Levent, and I agree, treasure indeed, (maybe next to a little boy trusting you to teach him to ride a bike, that is 🙂
Great story Bravo, I could almost feel that soaking while eating, great fun. Times like that are always remembered with affection. Eating in the snow?? Brrrrr
You are right. Bravo. “one of the most”, I should have said. 🙂
Good story Bravo,
I remember the Falklnds in 97, the squadron decided we were going to have a BBQ. Fair enough we said and dug out the necessary 8 ft of snow to reach firm ground to stand the barby on.
Bermuda shorts and printed shirts were compulsory dress code and it was blaaaady freezing.
Sorry off blog and on a different note, was it you who argued that the GPO were an incompetent bunch who provided crap service and charged a fortune, and that privatisation to BT was the best thing for the customer?
I have just seen this little gem.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/7504322/Man-asked-to-pay-56000-for-broadband.html
If you can count friends like that on one hand in a lifetime you are blessed.
good blog.
Ferret, yes it was me and I saw that little story too.
Bermuda shorts? Falklands? Only in HM Forces 🙂
Good tale, Bravo…and they sound like good friends.
For me, the test of a true friend is being able to fall straight back in with them after months, sometimes years, have lapsed. As if they were family.
By the way, I love hearing the different tales of ex forces people on here as well
🙂
Glad to have sparked a memory or two
That’s exactly how it is, Clair, we pick up coversations where we left them off 🙂
Thanks, Pseu, the next episode is scheduled for April.
I can’t compete with your reunion meals, but when I was in Hong Kong about six couples set up a Monthly Dinning Club. We ate in some very varied eateries to say the least. My choice was a restaurant called the King Arthur’s Lodge just down the road from the China Fleet Club. Sydney rock oysters, New York steaks and as a nice touch, every lady received a red rose and all, a book of matches inscribed “Enjoy your meal, Mr & Mrs Tocino.” I was well chuffed.
Didn’t know that restaurant, T, but od course I new the Fleet Club well – have you been back since it was knocked down and re-built? (Though, of course, it’s not the China Fleet club anymore, though the older taxi drivers will still take you straight to the corner of Gloucester Road 🙂 )
Never been back Bravo. I have to say, it was the best posting I ever had though. Another good restaurant was the San Francisco Steak House on Kowloon side. The bar was inlaid with silver dollars and as the name said, fresh steaks flown in from the States. How about the BO aka The Better ‘Ole by Fanling railway station?
Sorry to go off topic.
The San Fransisco Steak House is still going, Better ‘Ole long gone – Red Lips?
The Red Lips I remember well, very well indeed! Two strippers and a bunch of banana’s spring to mind. How about the Bottoms Up or the Professional Musicians Club aka the PMU?
Bottoms Up is also still going strong, never heard of the PMU? Red Lips has gone up market – but not much 🙂
The PMU was one of the only clubs in Kowloon where you could drink after hours in the early 70’s, before the draconian licensing laws were relaxed. Hard to imagine now, that bars had to close at midnight!
P.S. I missed out “Nice tale Bravo. I echo what CO writes” on my initial post. 🙂
T. Did you know that in 2007 they removed al duty from alcohol? 20 quid bottle of Oz plonk, (in Oz,) for a fiver 🙂
If you’re paying $40 in Oz, it ain’t plonk!
If you can pay $40 for a bottle of wine, you’re rich beyond my wildest dreams. My fur has turned green. 😥
Bearsy, ‘plonk’ was just a bit of colloquial 🙂 I don’t drink $40 dollar wine all the time – more’s the pity, but i do like to have the odd bottle in the cupboard for special occasions – weekends, miserable Mondays, and like that 🙂
It is my considered opinion that any wine priced above £10 is a waste of money. The difference is negligible and the snobbery proven.