In Memories Pt III, I had just arrived back in Deal from my three-year luxury cruise in the 'Med'. I had never been to Deal before - leaving for overseas from Burford, before the Deal barracks again became the home of the RM Band Service. Arriving back into a damp November England after three years based in a mostly sunny, dry and largely sandstone Malta, was definitely restful for the eyes. Someone returning to Britain by air after lengthy service in the Arabian Gulf remarked that it was like landing in a plate of spinach! I now realised exactly what he meant. The sheer 'green-ness' was startling, but you get used to it at about the same time that the last of your sun-tan disappears!

With admirable and well-practised expertise and expedition on the part of the company staff, I was 'booked' into 'M' Company, processed and found myself back on the train the same day with a leave pass, for almost 3 month's leave. During that time I experienced a very cold and snowy Christmas (Brrrrrrrr!), became a married man shortly afterwards and enjoyed a taste of matrimony (which, incidentally I am still enjoying 51 years later!)

However, with the long leave well and truly over, early in 1951 I found myself in 'M Company' North Barracks, Deal and was very soon roped in and appointed Company Pay Clerk. So I found myself wrestling with the intricacies of Part II Paybooks, entitlements, leave pay, stoppages, allotments and Income Tax tables. The rest of the company staff were a pleasant lot and I soon settled down to answering the usual pay questions about why this, that or the other came to less (mostly) or more (very occasionally) than expected!

One downside of Deal Barracks in those days was that the Commandant and most of the senior officers and all the parade staff were Royal Marines - and thus by a generalised definition, badly afflicted by splinters from the two short planks! (I must make it clear here that despite indications to the contrary in my narratives I did not and still do not, detest all non-bandsmen Royal Marines. I made some very good friends amongst RM's. However, I did then and still do, detest the sort of mentality that actively seeks to cause trouble and to inflict physical and/or mental intimidation and punishment on people. I sincerely trust that it no longer occurs, but being now much older and wiser in the ways of human nature, doubt it!) One of these puffed-up twits was the then adjutant a Captain Blood, who had obviously graduated summa cum laude in stupidity and been inoculated with K.R's and A.I's. I will grant that he was a tall, well-built and immaculately uniformed man, whose appointment required him to wear highly-polished leather gaiters as well as spurs. Occasionally he was even seen on a horse!

Most ex RMB's will know that Deal Barracks was not a composite group of barrack buildings, but divided into North, South and East Barracks, separated by public roads and private houses. Bands, Squads and sundry other military groups were constantly marching from one to the other and back again. Owners of those nearby houses were either military addicts who thrived on the sound of marching feet and bands, or deaf! However, there were definitely some local residents who very much approved of all the activity and avidly watched all that went on in the streets and when other parades occurred would even stand near the gates looking in. One of these was a youngish, very forthright lady named Alice, who was afflicted with a badly cleft-palate which prevented her from speaking clearly. However, contrary to what some people thought, she was by no means stupid. At every opportunity she would stand and watch any activity that was going on, especially if it involved a band. At one morning parade we were all lined up near the gates in North Barracks. Onto the parade strode 'God' in the shape of the immaculate Captain Blood. Orders were shouted, the band played, bugles blew and our good friend Alice, was standing outside the gates clapping her hands in appreciation. Blood became aware of this distracting influence and ordered the gate sentry to tell her to go away. The poor sentry tried to explain that he had no power to do so as the lady was in a public street. Blood digested this news as his face, chameleon-like, tried to match the stripe down his trousers. He then marched towards our unfortunate friend and in a loud, hectoring voice instructed her to 'Go away', as she was spoiling the ceremony. Alice, who had been observing these occasions for years and probably knew the drill movements and orders as well as any of the participants, took great exception to this man telling her to go away and in an extremely piercing voice shouted, "Don't you tell me to go away. I know my rights. I can watch if I want to. You can Hugger Off! Go on, Hugger Off, I know all about you! Hugger Off! (I'm not attempting to clean up the language, that's how it sounded coming from Alice - and delivered Forte-Fortissimo!) Blood, now realising that he was on untenable ground, had more than met his match - and in front of a large number of extremely appreciative (but passively faced) RMB personnel - turned on heel and marched right off the parade and back to his office. It was a privilege and delight to behold and a treasured memory. Another such memory of that time was when the indomitable Regimental Sergeant Major (who took his duties to at least the same ridiculous lengths as the adjutant) was rendered speechless by a Musician.

At that period, (during the Korean War), compulsory National Service was in force. As the two-year period was certainly not sufficient to train bandsmen from scratch and then get some value from them, only already competent musicians were accepted into the RM Band to serve their National Service. This meant that the handful or so who did thus temporarily join our ranks, were mostly music student graduates whose enrolment had been deferred until after they had obtained their degrees. Consequently, some of these musicians arriving at Deal were considerably better musically qualified than most, if not all, of the then serving band officers. One such musician held triple qualifications with a Mus.B.(Hons), LRAM and ARCO. He was a superb organist and a highly knowledgeable musician generally. Unfortunately he didn't live in the same world as the rest of us. In his uniform he always looked anything but smart - even if he accidentally happened to have put everything on in the right order and correct place. He also wore spectacles and had a round face with a habitually beaming smile on it. He always seemed to be trying to do his best to be a smart RM Bandsman - and failing miserably! On the day in question he and many others were heading from M Company building towards the mess hall for dinner. Suddenly a dreaded voice screamed out (somewhere about a couple of octaves above middle 'C'). "That man!" it began, and continued "That man improperly dressed there. Stand Fast!" The identity of the victim soon became obvious to everyone except our friend who, in his innocence took absolutely no notice and continued on his way. Now, as everyone will know, nothing infuriates an RSM more than to be ignored. So, with steam pouring from every orifice he quickly overtook our friend and screeched to a stop in front of him, screaming (you must also have noticed that the closer those types were to you, the louder they screamed?) "Stan'-still-you-'orrible-man. Did'n-you-'ear-me-shouting-at-you? You're-improperly-dressed,-you've-got-a-button-undone." When he eventually paused for breath, his remarks were greeted by a beaming smile and the disarming reply, "Oh, thank you so much for telling me. I'm having great trouble learning what to do, so I really do appreciate your going to all this trouble to let me know. Thank you, again." And with sincerity shining from every pore, he side-stepped around the road block and continued on his merry way to lunch. RSM Franks (put your hands up all those who remember him!) was for once, left with his mouth opening and closing - but with nothing coming out of it! Definitely another of those moments that made it all worthwhile!

An ability to type reasonably fast and accurately caused me to be moved from 'M' Company pay office to the Headquarters office as a clerk, where I joined a bunch of very experienced and mostly long-serving bandsmen looking after the records and sundry paperwork. In charge of us, was a QM Bandmaster. For a while prior to the outbreak of WWII he had been working at the Admiralty in London on Band Service matters. Very soon bands were being formed and drafted to just about every RN ship larger than a dinghy and he too was extracted from his post and found himself on his way to join a ship's band. At the very last moment the 'powers that be' suddenly realised that his specialised knowledge made him virtually indispensable and he was recalled to the Admiralty where he remained throughout the war. Consequently, he not only knew most of the permanent service and civilian staff there but also exactly how the intentionally complicated Civil Service system operated.