The Flying Bicycle of Schleswig-Holstein

Glad_its_all_over

ADC
Book Reviewer
A conversation on other means reminded me of the infamous 1 Sqn 14 Sig Regt (EW) trip to Denmark on Ex ODINS FOOT sometime in the late 80s. This was decidely non-tactical, involved the squadron spending two weeks at Hoevelte, outside Copenhagen, in a camp essentially belonging to the Danish Life Guards (tarmac monsters, all), as guests of the LANDZEALAND EW Company. Some mil skills, some sports, quite a lot of drinking. A spectacular PR disaster at the Tuborg brewery was only one of the key incidents of the visit.

The squadron deployed as a road party - a 4-tonner and a couple of Rovers, carrying the duty frees and weapons and the like -and a rail party, the bulk of the lads, with the Squadron 2i/c, an utter throbber, notionally in charge. He'd brought his bicycle. It was stashed in the guard's van, together with the baggage. Lo and behold, on arrival in Copenhagen Central, no bicycle. It was almost as if some evil so-and-so had taken it apart to fit through a train window and thrown it out somewhere between Hamburg and Puttgarden. Rumour at the time had it that the squadron seniors had clubbed together to offer a bounty for the loss of the bike (a classic Young Fogey thing with a basket and all sorts).

Rumour at the time also had it that those responsible overlapped quite significantly with the Pink Vampire crew of sainted memory.
 
Rumour at the time had it that the squadron seniors had clubbed together to offer a bounty for the loss of the bike (a classic Young Fogey thing with a basket and all sorts).
You see, this is the difference between R SIGNALS and RAC.

The urban legend told of a blinged up Ford Capri (or similar), much beloved of a young, upwardly mobile, recently joined, Cavalry officer; was that after ignoring a few hints to trade it in for something more befitting of the Regiment, he came back to find it in flames, and on entering the Mess found a pile of cash next to a note to get himself a decent car this time...

It's about style. For shame of a technical Corps; thirty seconds with a pair of pliers and you could have subtly sabotaged tweaked the gears, chain, and derailleurs so that he binned it himself (after the schadenfreude of observing much swearing, frustration, and declaring it to be an unreliable pile of sh!te...). And for shame of the other half of the unit, what about a decent persuasion campaign? Convincing them that the cute lass from the Teachers' Mess might have fancied him it it wasn't for that silly bicycle, should only have been the start of it... It's not Gaslighting a YO if they deserve it, Blackadder...
 
Last edited:

Awol

LE
A conversation on other means reminded me of the infamous 1 Sqn 14 Sig Regt (EW) trip to Denmark on Ex ODINS FOOT sometime in the late 80s. This was decidely non-tactical, involved the squadron spending two weeks at Hoevelte, outside Copenhagen, in a camp essentially belonging to the Danish Life Guards (tarmac monsters, all), as guests of the LANDZEALAND EW Company. Some mil skills, some sports, quite a lot of drinking. A spectacular PR disaster at the Tuborg brewery was only one of the key incidents of the visit.

The squadron deployed as a road party - a 4-tonner and a couple of Rovers, carrying the duty frees and weapons and the like -and a rail party, the bulk of the lads, with the Squadron 2i/c, an utter throbber, notionally in charge. He'd brought his bicycle. It was stashed in the guard's van, together with the baggage. Lo and behold, on arrival in Copenhagen Central, no bicycle. It was almost as if some evil so-and-so had taken it apart to fit through a train window and thrown it out somewhere between Hamburg and Puttgarden. Rumour at the time had it that the squadron seniors had clubbed together to offer a bounty for the loss of the bike (a classic Young Fogey thing with a basket and all sorts).

Rumour at the time also had it that those responsible overlapped quite significantly with the Pink Vampire crew of sainted memory.
They let British soldiers visit a brewery??
 

Whining Civvy

War Hero
They let British soldiers visit a brewery??
Only once, I would imagine, and the idea is now in a very large file marked "Bad Ideas Not To Be Repeated".
 

Whining Civvy

War Hero
Why, what happened?
I wasn't there but I imagine a certain amount of disreputable behaviour would have been involved at some point.
 
Why, what happened?
I wasn't there but I imagine a certain amount of disreputable behaviour would have been involved at some point.
Did a Pre Grapple deployment tour of the Bass Brewery in Alton many many moons a go.
The Workshop tipped up en-masse at about 1000hrs to be met by the tour guide who explained that we could either have an in depth tour lasting a couple of hours, a shorter version lasting about an hour or a really quick tour, all of which were to end in the Brewery bar.

The tone was set when he asked which tour we wanted. The responce was one of our party sprinting through the doors shouting, "Try to keep up." over his shoulder.
13 hours and numerous Alton pubs later, four arrests (one of which was me :eek:).
 

smeg-head

ADC
Moderator
Kit Reviewer
Book Reviewer
They let British soldiers visit a brewery??
Did the same during a summer "exercise" in 79. Some poor kraut trying to give us the good news about how good the bier was and all we wanted to do was sample it. Eventually we were invited into a large halle mit plenty of bratties, frikkies und plenty bier. The ruperts told us to go sip the beer, but Signallers being siggies, that wasn't going to happen. The beer run out quicker than the scoff, so a mighty food fight ensued with A troop and Techs fighting a good rearguard action against B troop and MT. Happily B troop won, but it was a close run thing. The OC and the RSM gave us all a bollocking, but you could see the RSM was impressed with us. He'd managed to knock the OC's glasses off with a well-aimed Frikadelle mit senf!
 

Glad_its_all_over

ADC
Book Reviewer
The brewery incident, in outline, was thus:

Tuborg maintained a fine body of men and women, generally of riper years, to act as 'hosts' in the relevant language - and the squadron was fortunate enough, after, as noted above, a sprint-paced tour of the brewery, to be assigned to the tender mercies of 'Uncle Peter' a largish chap in tweeds with a fruity RP accent who had clearly never seen such a bunch of footpads, hooligans and ne'er-do-wells in all his life but tried manfully to jolly things along - by suggesting a song. He launched into "Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud" by Flanders and Swann, but soon tailed off under the beady and suspicious eyes of the squadron, none of whom had ever heard of Flanders and Swann in all their born days.

He suggested, brightly, that perhaps the chaps might like to sing a song....

He nodded and smiled when the chaps launched into "There is A Green Hill Far Away" right up until "...he died to save us all. two three FOUR for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow" , at which point he held up his hands and suggested that, perhaps, that wasn't quite the right tone.

In the meantime, the lads had mineswept all the tables around and were having a thoroughly nice time. A brief conclave with the relevant ring leaders (the squadron seniors having shamefully abrogated their responsibilities in the whole sordid mess and withdrawn, crying with laughter, to a table a long, long way from the impending disaster) and the chorus of 60-odd untrained but powerful voices began:

"My name is Jack, diddle diddle diddle, I'm a necrophiliac, diddle diddle diddle.....".

At some point in the ensuing chaos, security pushed their way through the appalled civilian listeners and gently but firmly removed the lads, who, pausing only to gather up any beer they could find en route to the door, left with dignity and a distinct list to starboard.
 
Last edited:
Took an AT Exped up near Pitlocry in porridge land in 91? . Made our way to the Edradour Distillery for the tour. Walking past the huge copper boiler things the guide opens one for us to look at the “mash” with the warning . Do not sniff it , the fumes will ....

10 heads sticking into the hole sniffing like billy oh.

My god it was strong.

Also at the end of the tour and a few nips we were all given a small bottle of whisky.

They cottoned on after the third tour in three days.
 

feu_de_joie

War Hero
We did an exercise with the Danish 1st Artillery Regiment once. The first week was in barracks doing exchange and inter-operability stuff. Every morning, as we went out on PT, I saw a pile of bikes stacked against the wall by the main gate. Curiosity eventually prompted me to ask who they belonged to. It turned out that half the battery were shacked up downtown and to make it back in time in the morning they pinched the first bike they found (very trusting the Danes, no locks). The local plod were equally laid back and simply sent a van up mid-morning, picked the bikes up and set them up in the town square for the owners to retrieve themselves
 
We did an exercise with the Danish 1st Artillery Regiment once. The first week was in barracks doing exchange and inter-operability stuff. Every morning, as we went out on PT, I saw a pile of bikes stacked against the wall by the main gate. Curiosity eventually prompted me to ask who they belonged to. It turned out that half the battery were shacked up downtown and to make it back in time in the morning they pinched the first bike they found (very trusting the Danes, no locks). The local plod were equally laid back and simply sent a van up mid-morning, picked the bikes up and set them up in the town square for the owners to retrieve themselves
A similar thing happened in Gutersloh camp, if you came back pissed you nicked a bike from the Sgt Mess or 1GS regt (Who lived closest to to the gate) and rode down to 2CS/6 Regt/1 AAC, I dont remember the RMP being quite so laid back about it though.
 
British soldiers in a brewery ,complimentary beer, around lunchtime, with their reputation....
Replace the beer with free wine and that reminds me very much of an Army Staff College Eurotour visit to NATO HQ in 1993.....
 

Glad_its_all_over

ADC
Book Reviewer
The only folk who went into visits with open eyes were the Bushmills distillery. Oh. My. God. Worst hangover, ever.
 

Latest Threads

Top