THE
SOLDIER AND THE SERGEANT
The first week after arriving at the new camp south east
of Selby in the rural Drax area of Yorkshire in 1947, Billy the young
British soldier was in trouble again and placed on 3 days CB (Confined
to Barracks). As part of the punishment, he had to perform menial tasks
each morning at a cookhouse in a camp further down the road, under the
direction of a tall thin efficacious sergeant. To add to his problems
he also had a minor altercation with the sergeant, which was not a good
beginning at his new abode.
During the Saturday afternoon, Billy became aware that the
camp was deserted, so he decided to ignore his CB and take a walk to the
nearest hamlet, where he understood there was a dance every Saturday evening
at the church hall.
The hamlet was a cluster of about 10 buildings consisting
of a church with a recreational hall attached, a café, a pub and
a few other structures. Having nothing in particular to do before the
dance started, he took advantage of the beautiful weather and the peaceful
outdoors by biding his time in the nearby park. As evening drew near he
observed with interest a number of young girls in party dresses arriving
at the church along a footpath between the benches in the park and concluded
that he was privileged to preview the evenings dance partners.
The girl, who caught his eye, was different from the rest,
didn't use makeup, didn't need it and dressed in typical country clothes,
which consisted of a tweed suit and low heal shoes. She was not glamorous
by any standards, but was an outstanding beauty in every respect. Mesmerized
- his eyes followed her through the park, across the road and into the
church. If love at first sight was for real, this was it and he began
to contemplate the possibility of meeting her at the dance.
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Negative thoughts entered his mind as he considered his bumps, lumps and
blemishes and began to wonder what a stunning girl like this would want
with a short young lad with little hair and definitely not the leading
man type. However the negative thoughts passed and a positive attitude
took over, as he began to plan his strategy for meeting this exceptional
young lady at the dance.
Drawing from his experience in such matters he decided that
the best plan was to enter the dance hall early before the competition
was aware of her existence and dazzle her with footwork. The hall filled
up very fast and couples linked to whirl around the floor to the sound
of the music, as Billy searched the room for the target of his affections.
The second dance started and he considered the possibility that she may
not be attending, particularly by the way she was dressed, so not wishing
to waste his Saturday night, selected a lesser mortal to trip the light
fantastic. After circling the floor a couple of times and engaging in
small talk, he was fairly confident of companionship for the evening,
but there was no chemistry, so he didn't linger.
Another dance came and went and still no sign of the girl
in the tweed suit. By this time the romantic young man was somewhat dejected
and decided that if he couldn't have the girl of his choice, he would
rather be alone. Disregarding all the other girls, he positioned himself
with a clear view of the door where they were entering and contemplated
the best strategy if and when she appeared. It was not unlike a scene
from a Woody Allen movie, with the anxious soldier considering the best
approach - Should he rush across the floor to beat out the competition,
or a less obvious saunter with the casual air of the bon vivant and risk
losing her?
To his delight he noticed the natural beauty in the next
room through a small window and knew that she was about to enter the hall.
Without even thinking he was face to face with her within seconds and
she accepted his invitation to dance. The next few minutes went by so
fast that he was much too occupied to think about his good fortune, because
as they made their way around the floor he noticed the tall sergeant from
the cookhouse, who knew he was on CB and could easily identify him by
his practically baldhead.
Instinctively Billy started to crouch as he continued dancing
and explained the dilemma to his partner, who was slightly taller than
him, but even more attractive close up. "Would you like to leave?"
the girl asked as they danced towards to exit door. He was out of the
door like a flash and to his amazement, followed by the girl. They then
joined hands and skipped down the narrow country road, laughing with gay
abandon, as though they had known each other all their lives. It was an
exhilarating feeling, which can only be described as a magic moment!
On the way down the winding road to the girl's house they
talked incessantly and he became aware that she was not only exceptionally
beautiful, but also had a wonderful personality and disposition. A number
of times during the evening, he felt like pinching himself to confirm
that he wasn't dreaming.
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Not only did he find it difficult to believe that the outstanding girl
decided to leave with him, but also that they had established such a rapport,
considering that they had only met a few minutes before leaving the dance
and they didn't even know each other's names. It was all very overwhelming!
To cut a long story short, at the end of the evening Billy
returned to the road heading to the camp in semi darkness. A cyclist approached
and he attempted to hitch a ride. The man on the bike was none other than
the tall sergeant, who stopped and beckoned him towards the luggage rack
over the rear wheel. It was a very large bike, suitable to the size of
the sergeant, who peddled away without difficulty. Arriving at the camp
the sergeant bid Billy good night as he scampered away undetected. "Thanks
for the ride," shouted Billy as he disappeared in the darkness. Could
it be that the sergeant didn't recognize him with his hat on at night,
or was he really a nice guy and gave him a break? Billy would like to
believe the latter!
The following week Billy was posted out of the area and
never saw the girl who made his heart throb again. Later he borrowed an
army vehicle one Sunday afternoon and drove from Halifax to track her
down, but he was unable to find her or anyone else who knew her and was
forced to give up. He considered additional visits in army vehicles, but
decided against it when he encountered civilian police roadblocks looking
for black marketers of petrol, which was still rationed at the time.
In those days with telephones a rarity, computers unheard of and public
transportation in the country leaving much to be desired, communication
was difficult, to say the least.
In 1947 the Drax area was all country with farmland, hamlets
and villages. The army Return Stores Depot, RSD was a huge complex of
sheds storing army surplus goods and equipment shipped in from all over
the country by train to a dedicated rail line going directly into the
RSD. Soldiers from the Pioneer Corp camp just up the road and some civilians
from the surrounding area worked in the stores and Billy's small RASC
attachment provided the trucks to shunt the material from the trains to
the sheds.
Billy was only stationed there a couple of weeks, which
was not long enough to confirm the rumors that sheets were being burned
and valuable equipment was being destroyed at the RSD. Word had it that
the civilian population had protested the burning of the sheets, which
they and the Ku Klux Klan would have appreciated. Had Billy known of the
protest he would have also joined in, not having seen white textiles since
he was called up.
Convinced that valuable stuff was being destroyed, he decided
to find a better use for it. Acting on another rumor that a farmer close
to their camp paid good money for such items, he drove out the RSD gate
one day with a bunch of large heavy spanners (wrenches). Presenting his
booty to the farmer and expecting to negotiate a fair price, he was ushered
into a barn where he was shown a particularly large container full of
similar items. "I would like to sell you some," said the farmer
to the confused soldier.
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Explaining that he had been buying the spanners from the soldiers for
years and had no idea what to do with them. Deciding that there was no
way he could overcome that objection, he inquired about petrol, only to
be shown another shed with the largest tank he had ever seen, and advised
that the tank was full and there was no where else to store it.
Billy knew a losing situation when he saw one and excusing
himself from the friendly farmer, retreated with his tail between his
legs carrying the heavy spanners. They were now a liability vs. an asset,
because he didn't know what else to do with them, so he decided to dump
them in the farmers duck pond. He was tempted to take a few duck eggs
for his trouble, but there was nowhere to cook them.
Secretly hoping to find the lady in the tweed suit, he returned
to the Drax area in 1992 to bathe in nostalgia and possibly find out what
the farmer did with the spanners - the ones in the shed - not the ones
in the duck pond! Billy started out from Selby on a road to the hamlet,
which he had taken many times before back in 1947 and was astounded to
find that the road came to a complete end in the middle of nowhere.
All he could see in front of him were hedges and mountains.
Questioning a nearby resident who was comparatively new to the area, he
was told that the mountains in front of the road were really not mountains
and just large piles of slag covered with green paint.
The resident went on to explain that a monstrous generating
station now occupies practically the whole of the Drax area and it's the
largest coal-fired power station in Western Europe, with at least a dozen
humongous chimneys and a similar amount of green painted mountains.
Not wishing to leave with out seeing something he could
reminisce about, Billy drove several miles south hoping to find evidence
of the railway line, which used to enter the RSD. This time he was lucky
and observed the rail line entering a field and going directly towards
a mountain. It was as though the slag was deposited directly on top of
the rail line and Billy wondered if they had done the same thing to the
RSD, because removing all those tools and equipment would present a monumental
task and it was all used material. The fact that the RASC detachment with
the trucks moved out in 1947, lends credence to the theory that nothing
was moved from then on.
Billy was unable to find anyone who remembered the hamlet
or the RSD, because like the young lady in the Tourist Information Office
in nearby Selby, everyone he talked to was too young to remember the areas
history. Driving towards Chapeltown Billy couldn't help thinking that
the farmer no longer had to be concerned about what to do with the spanners,
because they were probably all under a mountain of slag.
.
Copyright: Bill Hawksford. bhawksf@optonline.net
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