Dear 
          Richard,
          
          Taking up Maxie Beare's suggestion to offer some recollections, here 
          is something. 
          
          Whenever we have foggy weather (like the last few mornings here in Nottingham), 
          I am reminded of two particular occasions in the mid. 1950's when my 
          prospects of promotion in the RMB were nearly scuppered.
          
          The first was at Stonehouse Barracks, Plymouth taking part in the Corporal's 
          course. Our course instructor told us to have our gas masks at the ready 
          for the following morning parade at 0800hrs. So we dug into our kitbags, 
          (probably never had cause to wear them, since being issued on joining 
          as Band Boys) and duly lined up in the colonnade with them slung over 
          a shoulder. As expected the CSM barked out the command 'on gas masks'. 
          After considerable fumbling and curses came the command '0n your right 
          marker, quick march'. The ensuing shambles must have been a sight to 
          behold, as bandsmen made desperate attempts to locate the 'right marker'. 
          We were scattered all over the parade ground. Why should this be you 
          may ask, well the eye pieces had misted over. We had either forgotten 
          to use the de-misting gunk, or as is more likely it had dried out in 
          the small round tin. Who can remember them? I reckon the drill staff 
          knew this would happen, and we ended up with a light-hearted rollicking.
          
          The second occasion was a couple of years later at Deal, on the Band 
          Sergeant's drill course and yours truly was pretending to be a drill 
          instructor on the dreaded North Barracks parade ground. My task was 
          to drill a squad of Royal Marine recruits (not bandsmen). I remember 
          it was a real pea souper that morning, as I sent the squad off in quick 
          march time towards the end of the parade ground. To my horror they disappeared 
          into the fog and out of sight. I think the CSM or it may have been the 
          feared RSM Franks (anybody remember him and Captain Blood) said something 
          like, 'what are you going to do now Corporal ?). What could I do except 
          bellow out 'about turn' and after a few seconds, fortunately for me 
          the squad appeared again quite miraculously much to my relief, and I 
          duly passed. 
          
          Gerry Taylour RMBX2742)