ARBORFIELD - Friday 22nd to Sunday 24th July 2005
inclusive
The
following report & photographs contributed by Trevor STUBBERFIELD (52A)
Friday
During the evening we turned up at the Bailleul
Sergeants' Mess to book in and here I think the biggest mistake of the
weekend was made. No attempt had been made to accommodate members of intakes
together. In fact we would be widely spread over different barrack
blocks, all intakes mixed up in rooms, which was to make the traditional
"swinging of the lamp" virtually impossible. Arborfield works on a
tribal system. Loyalty is to one's intake, the lads you entered the gates
with and spent three years buddying along, then marching off the square with at the end of your
apprenticeship. Even those who spent extra time at the school still hold
their original intake as the real one. Then of course all intakes together
give their loyalty to Arborfield as a whole. Perhaps those who make the
arrangements, being generally jeeps, don't fully understand the system
and for next year may take this grave mistake on board and rectify the
situation.
Booking in we recognised Brian Paton (52A), some feat of memory
as it was Brian's first reunion and the first time we had met in over
fifty years. Mind you, having posted a photo to us did help a bit. Then it
was into the maze of billets to find the allocated room and claim a bedspace.
Beds were already made, this year with the luxury of a duvet. Time for a
quick shower and shave and a coming to face with a reality. The ablutions
were not of a very good order, cleanliness didn't appear high on the
requirements, and some essential parts were out of order. It wasn't my fault
that the shower valve handle came off in my hand, honest guv.
Spruced up, it was back to the Mess to see who we could find.
Things were quiet, very restrained and numbers were obviously down. One comment
kept cropping up, "It's very subdued". Being a romantic I remember
the old saying, "You can take the man out of Arborfield, but you can't
take Arborfield out of the man." It would appear to be even more
localised than I first thought. Although we were in Arborfield, we
were far from our traditional ground. If, as rumour suggests, the college
reopens as a Forward
Catering School,
eventually we may be able to return to our roots, and just think of the
gastronomic delights we could look forward to.
Supper was served, everything curried as usual, but for the less
exotic of us there were a few sandwiches. Past my bedtime I set off for the
billet. I have trouble navigating in daylight so what chance did I stand in
pitch black? The path took us alongside a road, over a bridge by the lake,
and then alongside the lake for about half a mile. Double that for going off
course. The place was alive with rabbits of all shapes and sizes and they
knew no fear. Would that they could know just what I was thinking about them,
pie was the second word of two.
A quick call to "My Manager" to let her know I was
safe, and then it was head down to get a good night's rest before
the programme for tomorrow.
Published: 7th August 2005
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