I signed on the dotted line a week before my forty second birthday, what followed were 9 weekends and one 2 week course to pass and I was in, a fully qualified Rifleman, easy. Well I suppose so if you’re not a 42 year old, over weight yuppie, who has a 30 a day habit and hasn’t run more than a yard in over 20 years. Never mind, don’t give it a thought old man, after all you’d passed P Company at 18, all it would require was a strong dose of bloody stubbornness wouldn’t it?

And so one pair of rather expensive trainers later I’m off on my first run, and 500m later I’d finished it by puking in next doors front hedge, but I still felt great, I’d made a start. It was another 3 days before I could walk up stairs with out shooting pains in both thighs let alone run though. Being that I’ve always been too stupid to quit at anything I persevered, and slowly but slowly the distances got longer and I got fitter. And on the weekends Army PTI’s took over, a breed capable of produing neither sweat nor compassion, only fit squaddies.

The weekends passed all to quickly, before I knew it I was off to Cattrick for my last two weeks training, and also the longest period Barbara and I had ever had to spend apart, I along with a 100 or more recruit’s stood nervously on the parade ground awaiting the NCO’s. Now is the time I should point out my one and only advantage over my much younger and fitter comrades, ‘fear’, a fear which produces an almost illogical need to please, the fact is I hate being told off. The very first NCO out the door makes straight for me, “how old are you granddad?” “42 Corporal” Shouts a beaming me, shaking his head he turns and begins to walk off, “bloody Dads Army! Well come on ‘Godfrey’ and bring the rest of the crow’s with you.” And so in the strange way that the army works ‘Godfrey’ morphed in to ‘Godder’s’ and it’s stuck with me ever since.

Back to HERRICK 11 and my tour

Posted by Brent Meheux - 2/2/12 - Tags - godder's

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