Way back then, not as far as some but further than most - I was a 17 year old serving in Germany with an Armoured Signal Squadron. All fairly routine work hard and play hard kind of stuff until one day the funfair came to townâ¦. We got all Amstelâd up in the NAAFI before about 20 of us piled into 2 taxis (5 in each cab â the rest in the boot) and headed for some fine vintage entertainment â German style! We staggered around the fairground making pests of ourselves, as only drunken Brit squaddies on tour can, fancying ourselves as snipers on the pellet gun stall, the make the bell ring stand was a hoot and full pelt dodgems smash extravaganzas. We were able to top up our alcohol intake on the way round too â as beer shops were allowed. Finally, we came to the last attraction â a huge tent with a stage in front. On the stage was a variety of very fit looking German blokes all dressed in yellow dayglo sateen tracksuits prancing about with various bits of gym equipment. It was a boxing ring trying to attract all-comers to take on their boys â DM 50 to the winner, free ambulance ride to hospital for the loser. One by one the volunteers were plucked from the audience to fill the various weight categories until they got to the biggest bloke on the stage â the heavyweight. Gasps from the crowd as they eyed up this man mountain and, not surprisingly, a reluctance from anyone to step into the fray. A couple of minutes passed with the ringmaster pleading with someone to come and take on his boy â when suddenly a voice from behind me, in a thick Yorkshire accent, quietly said âIâll do itâ. I spun round on my heels as the crowd gasped once more and looked at a newly arrived Corporal from my unit who had just spoken. Pop-pop (for that is what Iâll call him) was a big bear of a man - but one that had gone to seed a bit. Truly ancient, at least 32!!, and layers of blubber. He had just failed his BFT a few days earlier â what was he doing? Had the Amstel gone to his head? A couple of the lads tried pleading with him whilst another attempted to remove his watch â as a keepsake of course. With the card filled we were invited to part with our cash and enter the tent to watch the show. True enough the amateurs took a good pasting from the professional boxers. They made a show of it though, as they danced around their respective opponents, then finished them off, often to the accompaniment of a spray of blood, as the crowd bayed for more. The moment we were all waiting for finally arrived and fanfares blasted over the loudspeaker as pop-pop was pushed into the boxing ring. They had made him look foolish by giving him a pair of sateen boxing shorts then they made him pull his socks up as far as they would go and finally theyâd taken his shirt from him. He stood there, a figure of fun, with his gigantic gut hanging over his waistband. The music from Rocky I blared over the sound system, lights flashed and the crowd went wild as the big German made his entrance â Las Vegas could have learned a few things from this mob as Grosse Boxhead entered the ring and began his mincing about routine whilst evil eyeing poor pot-pot who cut a forlorn figure in the opposite corner. The ref called the fighters together and briefed them as to what would happen â they went back to their corners, I noticed a rather excited ambulance crew in pot-pots corner, and an expectant hush blew over the crowd. âDing-Dingâ â both men moved towards the centre of the ring â the German doing the ali-shuffle whilst pot-pot scuffed his feet, arms by his side. The German threw a couple of jabs much to the merriment of the crowd â then it happenedâ¦ Pot-pot, hand-a-blur, threw a punch at the boxheads face and he went down â it took about half a second and it was all over. The crowd were stunned into silence not truly believing what they had seen He was duly paid his winners fee of 50 marks and not allowed to have a fight the following night â no matter how much we pleaded. But it only came to light afterwards that he was a former Joint Services Heavyweight champion. Anyone else found someone who hides their light under a bushel only for it to come out in such spectacular circumstances??