Memorable stuff from your formative years

On the status subject. My sister is Archaeologist at a university,and was sent on a conference to the west indies.I can't remember the island. On the online booking thing for the hotel they were staying at, it had the usual tick box for Mr, Mrs, Ms, Dr,Rev etc. But also had one for Your Royal Highness. Which she ticked for a laugh. When She got there, they had a red carpet. multiple staff assigned to Her needs,and had put Her in the penthouse suite. She didn't know whether to fess up that it was just a lighthearted jape. But decided to say nothing,and spent three days in the lap of luxury. Her colleagues thought it was hilarious,and played along, curtseying Your majesty ing,and general grovelling.
I bet the bill was a shock!
 
Thanks to to perusing discarded H&E magazines, it was many years before I realised that women had fannies rather than an indistinct airbrushed blank area.

Quite a shock, I can tell you.
Yeah...it was my older bro's.....I broke a window with one of the rounds :)

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And yes, they also made a Thompson with a stick mag, very Commando ( Eat lead Fritz! )
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I yearned for the SLR. I was given the Tommy gun. I was miffed until I realised I could brrrrrrr machine gun all my mates and win while they could only shout bang - plus after a few games they'd all snapped the barrels off so looked silly while I was still ally (happy 8 year old that I was. It didn't last)
 
On the status subject. My sister is Archaeologist at a university,and was sent on a conference to the west indies.I can't remember the island. On the online booking thing for the hotel they were staying at, it had the usual tick box for Mr, Mrs, Ms, Dr,Rev etc. But also had one for Your Royal Highness. Which she ticked for a laugh. When She got there, they had a red carpet. multiple staff assigned to Her needs,and had put Her in the penthouse suite. She didn't know whether to fess up that it was just a lighthearted jape. But decided to say nothing,and spent three days in the lap of luxury. Her colleagues thought it was hilarious,and played along, curtseying Your majesty ing,and general grovelling.
A military version of the above took place in Jamaica in 76 (during their version of The Troubles), when a team of 4 Int Corps chaps went there to tell the JDF all about FINCOing; the JDF Int organisation was more into high-powered, grey, mirror-windowed motorcars than us (more of yer Vauxhall Chevette, really) and thought that, as they were experts in surveillance and other sneaky stuff, that they would put us under close covert scrutiny at all times, presumably to somehow get one up. And so, on our arrival at Up Park Camp, a Corporal with a Polaroid camera fell out of a tree in front of our minibus. A room was allocated to us as an office, complete with inexpertly-wired and hidden microphones. In the evenings, an ABC surveillance team followed us to the Sheraton and back, with much hand-signalling and speed-walking.

Playing the game, the LCPL in the team (you-know-who, local SGT for the duration) became the undercover SIS Big Chief, and in 'private' would bollock the OC, WO2 and SSGT quite rigidly, giving them orders for better performance etc. Some audio-level brutality was administered to the SSGT (Champion the Wonder Horse for those who knew him) and he whimpered convincingly.

For the duration of the period we were there I was treated with immense caution and respect, which was nice. On our departure, I received a magnificent box of cigars, and we confessed all at the airport.
 
On the status subject. My sister is Archaeologist at a university,and was sent on a conference to the west indies.I can't remember the island. On the online booking thing for the hotel they were staying at, it had the usual tick box for Mr, Mrs, Ms, Dr,Rev etc. But also had one for Your Royal Highness. Which she ticked for a laugh. When She got there, they had a red carpet. multiple staff assigned to Her needs,and had put Her in the penthouse suite. She didn't know whether to fess up that it was just a lighthearted jape. But decided to say nothing,and spent three days in the lap of luxury. Her colleagues thought it was hilarious,and played along, curtseying Your majesty ing,and general grovelling.
Going back a bit there was a car insurance broker in Andover and when you went in you could see the screen where they entered details. Whoever designed the form had a sense of humour, along with Mr Mrs etc were titles Duke, Duchess, King, Queen etc. Finally and I thought the most optimistic was Pope.
 
Going back a bit there was a car insurance broker in Andover and when you went in you could see the screen where they entered details. Whoever designed the form had a sense of humour, along with Mr Mrs etc were titles Duke, Duchess, King, Queen etc. Finally and I thought the most optimistic was Pope.
Wasn't on the Shankill then... :)
 
A military version of the above took place in Jamaica in 76 (during their version of The Troubles), when a team of 4 Int Corps chaps went there to tell the JDF all about FINCOing; the JDF Int organisation was more into high-powered, grey, mirror-windowed motorcars than us (more of yer Vauxhall Chevette, really) and thought that, as they were experts in surveillance and other sneaky stuff, that they would put us under close covert scrutiny at all times, presumably to somehow get one up. And so, on our arrival at Up Park Camp, a Corporal with a Polaroid camera fell out of a tree in front of our minibus. A room was allocated to us as an office, complete with inexpertly-wired and hidden microphones. In the evenings, an ABC surveillance team followed us to the Sheraton and back, with much hand-signalling and speed-walking.

Playing the game, the LCPL in the team (you-know-who, local SGT for the duration) became the undercover SIS Big Chief, and in 'private' would bollock the OC, WO2 and SSGT quite rigidly, giving them orders for better performance etc. Some audio-level brutality was administered to the SSGT (Champion the Wonder Horse for those who knew him) and he whimpered convincingly.

For the duration of the period we were there I was treated with immense caution and respect, which was nice. On our departure, I received a magnificent box of cigars, and we confessed all at the airport.
I had heard through the grapevine about that. But You have to admit Whisky. You's were trying too hard. I have a surveillance pic of You walking through the hotel lobby, Sorry.Didn't have black maskers for Your eyes. PERSEC. I Know,I know...
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That made me smile. I went to the estate iffice for that very purpose about 4 years ago. They told me I had to put the request in writing. After doing so I recieved a reply stating that I needed to address my letter to 'Lord Barnard'. I decided to give it a miss. For 20 quid a year I bought an annual pass that gets me and my dog access to the estate (and Castle) as often as I choose. The dog goes free, she attracts lots of non-discriminatory social discourse and there was no grovelling involved.View attachment 408031
Amazing, I would have thought that after 50 years things would have moved on a little bit. Interestingly enough my Grandfather just used to turn up and was issued a day permit on the spot for no charge. I suspect the reason being that his grandfather had been the electoral agent and friend to one of the Bowes-Lyons who lived locally and even the Lords Barnard would have to bend the knee to the Bowes-Lyons.
 
Amazing, I would have thought that after 50 years things would have moved on a little bit. Interestingly enough my Grandfather just used to turn up and was issued a day permit on the spot for no charge. I suspect the reason being that his grandfather had been the electoral agent and friend to one of the Bowes-Lyons who lived locally and even the Lords Barnard would have to bend the knee to the Bowes-Lyons.
I suspect the longevity of 'feudal' views has more to do with the staff than his lordship. Off the point but it reminded me of one Mr Gul - a former Pakistani army CQMS who was head storeman at a Saudi Military Hospital of which I was CEO. Now although Mr Gul's formal organiztional position was several leagues beneath my own it was customary to be kind to the 'help' in a general sense, but crucial with Mr Gul. He, you see, since he was directly involved with the issue (or otherwise) of resources, had a direct back door access with the senior officer on the military side. When the said CEO requested a new front door key to replace the one that had broken and was stuck in the lock, he (me) was informed that I must have misused the item and would need a letter from the Colonel before he would issue a new one! I suspect that some members of the Estate office function in a similar manner - after all, where else have they ever been?
 
I take it some things have changed, I imagine the police station has long been closed and the Zetland Hunt no longer meets on North Green.
I believe the 'Hunt's' centre of gravity is now a little further south around Aldbrough St John. It survives still though and a horseless group were recently present at the Great Yorkshire Show - suits and bowler hats was the order of the day, accompanied by their dogs. North Green on the other hand was the recent locus of the classic car display during the Staindrop Carnival. The police stn survives, still has its blue lamp signage, thouh I have never seen a policeman - must find out about that. Mind you, during a dog walk I did meet a retired 'branch' man who added to my Op Banner research as he had been involved in resettlement of agents/informers. Still an interesting place is Staindrop.

ETA in respect of the 'op banner' comment, I also found, to my utter amazememt, that the lead investigator in the search for the 'dissapeared' across the water resides in another closeby village. Very small world.
 
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