Pig's Battalion
By Harry Blackley RAMC

After qualifying as a pharmacist, I was called up for National Service and despite efforts to fail the medical I arrived at RAMC HQ in Crookham Hants on 17 January 1957. This is not the best time of the year for basic training. The barracks was full of the usual mixture of young men from a variety of backgrounds. Being the ripe old age of 23 and a pharmacist I was treated with a little respect by the squad instructor. To gain extra privileges I signed up for the Corps boxing team as we were excused certain duties so that we could attend training. Our first contest was against the Parachute Regiment in Aldershot. I had done a little boxing in Scotland so I survived the initial flaying action of my opponent and eventually knocked him out in the third round. Unfortunately, in one of his mad rushes, arms pounding had fractured one of my floating ribs. After a few hours in bed I could stand the pain no longer and was promptly strapped up with adhesive tape, right round my hairy chest. When it was finally removed a week later the pain was excruciating.

Major Humble wanted me to stay at HQ as a sergeant drill instructor and a member of the Corps boxing team. However, I did not want to spend my two years at HQ and was posted to York Military Hospital that April. The Army was overloaded with pharmacists that year so automatic promotion was out of the question due to lack of vacancies. However, two other pharmacists and myself were promoted to Acting Corporal with very little to do. A National Service Acting Corporal slept in the same barracks as the privates and had no real authority over anyone. When certain orders had to be carried out, the Corporal, in absence of a senior NCO, it was anarchy. The fact that I had boxed for the Corps became known and led to a challenge from a solid private from Middlesborough who did not want to be told what to do by a jumped up Corporal who was nothing without a couple of stripes. So it had to be settled with fists. It was and I gained the respect of the men in the barracks. Bloody stupid really.

Realising that York was worse than HQ I applied for a transfer to any place I might have a better chance of promotion. Cyprus came up and I jumped at the chance to go overseas.

Coming from a humble background, any travel was an adventure and despite the crowded condition on the Devonshire the cruise to Cyprus, with a stop at Malta, was great fun. We docked at Larnaca on the 14th of August and were promptly referred to as Persils. Once again there was a surfeit of pharmacists and on arrival at the British Military Hospital in Nicosia there were no vacancies for us as sergeants and we had very little to do. After a month, not wishing to languish at the hospital, I spoke to the CO and applied for parachute training in the UK, thinking that anything would be better than the current situation. While my application was being processed, a vacancy came up at 36 Field Ambulance, 3 Independent Infantry Brigade, just north of Nicosia. The pharmacist there was due for demob in a month's time so I should get promotion to Acting Sergeant.

And so began sixteen months of a sometimes hilarious, interesting, scary and just plain crazy part of my life.

A Land Rover was sent to pick me up for an interview with the CO, Lt-Col P.C. Barry, an Irish medical doctor known to one and all as "Pig" and the unit as Pig's Battalion. They were easily recognised by the fact that they wore shorts, boots with socks rolled over the top, a beret and a wrist band indicated rank. I think that Pig wanted to indicate that his men were not regarded as soft, poofter medicos. The men responded to his attitude by doing their best to show that he was right.

This big, bluff, bloke grilled me for an hour and then accepted me and I was promoted to Acting Sergeant even though there was no official vacancy for me. Pig said he preferred that I not share the men's tents as I would eventually take over as pharmacist and share quarters with the other senior NCOs whose tents were set apart from the other ranks.

For those who don't know what a Field Ambulance is, its best seen as similar to the MASH units so well portrayed in the TV series of that name. Most of our time was spent erecting and dismantling a field hospital so that we could be in a position to look after any wounded on operations where the infantry sought to catch terrorists in a variety of locations on Cyprus.

Kermia Camp consisted of a commandeered two-story house which served as the officers' mess upstairs and the CO's bedroom. Downstairs was the medical centre for soldiers attending sick parade. The medical supplies were housed in a tin shed, in panniers made of basket-like material. This was my little domain, a hot little place under the Cyprus sun.

The sergeants' mess was a tin shed with a fridge and a 'kitchen' out the back where food was rendered inedible by a private who had never cooked anything in his life.

The only other 'permanent' building was called the NAAFI but was actually run by the other ranks. It had a fridge for cold drinks and a jukebox. Again it was another hothouse of a tin shed.

The unit consisted of about 200 officers and men with a detachment of RASC to drive and maintain the ambulances, half-tonners and Land Rovers.

Besides Pig, the cast included  "Fangs", the dentist, Virgie, the adjutant, and various other doctors including a skin specialist whose report card by Pig stated that he, "had to be led into the use of soap and water."

The real power was Staff Sergeant Sandy Forbes, the chief clerk, the only person who knew anything about army regulations.

After my predecessor Sgt Mulholland left, Pig decided that I should also take charge of the clothing store. For those familiar with army regulations every piece of equipment must be accounted for. However, one classic case I recall was a rowing boat which had been lost so we made out a transfer form and converted Boats, rowing to Boats, sauce and then filled out a breakage form. So a rowing boat was erased from the records.

There was a touch of Captain Queeg (The Caine Mutiny) about Pig. The Other Ranks had a fridge for Coca Cola in their tin shed. Often they would take the bottles to their tents and forget to return them. Pig would call a surprise tent inspection looking for empty Coca Cola bottles. Checking out "Geordie" Smith's locker a can of self-heating soup was found. It should have been returned at the end of an operation in the Troodos Mountains. Pig towered over Geordie and said, " Smith - that soup belongs to the Queen. Quick as a flash Geordie said, "She's welcome to it sir." Pig loved that kind of response and nothing more was said.

With my background as a chemist I was involved in preparing a solution of a chemical invented by a War Office boffin, a Mr. Titt.  I made up Titt's perfume in ten-gallon containers and transported them to remote locations where they were transferred to special tanks fitted to a helicopter. The helicopter sprayed an area and anyone travelling through that area would pick up the scent . Although it was colorless and odorless, the scent was picked up by tracker dogs. The idea was to track the movements of EOKA terrorists and hopefully lead to their capture. For my work in this project I was awarded a certificate "in token of appreciation of the outstandingly good service rendered in Cyprus" by the Commander-in-Chief, Middle East Land Forces.

I have long maintained an interest in Cyprus and recently was awarded the Australian Centenary Medal for enhancing communications between Turkish and other communities. My wife and I have visited north and south Cyprus and Turkey on several occasions.
 

Harry Blackley Geelong Australia

Harry today with  his wife Gina