Did you know - I was once in the Territorial Army?

I moved to Galashiels in the borders of Scotland when I was just nineteen years old. I had a very lovely group of friends who to this day remain that way, but at the weekends they would go home to their families because although beautiful and peaceful Galashiels is not the hot bed of fun that most students need. However, my home was too far to travel to every weekend so I decided to find a job to fill my dull weekends.

Galashiels is tiny and it's residents consist of 1:8 ratio men to women. So I thought I would combine my need for male attention & lack of funds with a weekend occupation - my solution was to join the territorial army, pretty random you might say, gallant of me even, but no my reasons where simply monetary and in search of a bit of romance. However, my time in the territorial army did not deliver on the boy front - I inherited about ten father figures who looked after me, which was nice, but what I hadn't banked on, was the scraps I would get myself into from the expeditions which is what I want to share with you today.

The experience I am to share with you I also told to my best friends parents on meeting them for the first time, her dad was a fellow army man so I felt the need to impress him with my army antics but failed miserably and this is why. One weekend we went on an ambush exercise in some forest somewhere around Motherwell, I apologise for my geography it was a long time ago and I know it was near Motherwell for reasons that will become clear later. The exercise started well, we had a camp fire, dinner in a tin, some biscuits, a little chat about our task in hand then we got into groups and set off in the pitch black forest. I was told to hold onto the man in front and to keep really quiet - the guy behind me was told to do the same to me and so on until a giant green caterpillar was formed & we crept through the woods like something out the Blair Witch Project. Petrified! not of the dark - of the Sergeant who would bollock me if I fell over or giggled or spoke, which if you know me is probable dead cert! His banter wasn't up to much ha ha! Once we got to our position in the field through the forest we were signalled to lie flat on our backs and wait for the signal to ambush our opponents. We must have been lying there for one maybe two hours & I had been suffering with a pain in my stomach which at first I ignored but as it got colder the pain grew in intensity. Queue the tears! My buddy next to me asked me what the matter was so I told him, he then sent the message down the green caterpillar to the Captain who then came to see me. On seeing me in my miserable state and asking me a few questions he diagnosed suspected appendicitus and commanded the exercise to be abandoned and a rescue mission assumed. I was lifted through the woods in a jacketed make shift hammock thing to the truck and then driven to Motherwell infirmary where about ten soldiers including the Captain and my charmless sergeant witnessed my most embarrassing moment ever. I was taken into a side room where upon I was prodded by a doctor - as he pressed my stomach like some toy that makes a sound, I let out the most enormous fart, to which the doctor diagnosed me with chronic trapped wind and not suspected appendicitus . I was relieved to say the least - pardon the pun but embarrassed as half my team where witness to one of my most shocking moments in life. My dad would always say "better out than in" but on this experience I think I would have preferred a more private space to have been diagnosed.

Another shocking event happened on the shooting range, I had scored a high mark and was buzzing with excitement as this was my first attempt at shooting. We were equipped with S.A.A.T's raffles and we had a set of sand bags surrounding us as a dugout and I had a officer assisting me. On my second attempt to shoot along the firing range I cocked the thingy back and as I was so excited and nervous when I shoot the gun I knocked myself out with the impact of the gun making contact with my cheeky bone and eye socket. I never failed to produce a laugh for the team of soldiers that I worked with - my antics were of amusement but I don't think I would be any use in a war zone which is why I will always be grateful to my very special brother who has risked life and limb for us in the name of the British Army . He is my Hero!

Thanks for tuning in.

Stan x