R.A.F. Berangaria
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By
P.
J. O'Brien. 23334372 L/Cpl
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It wasn't always killing, sabotage and mayhem. Sometimes there was time for a break. As resident vocalist with the dance bands of the 1st Battalion Royal Ulster Rifles, I accompanied them on many 'gigs' and P.R. exercises . We played at the Dome Hotel, Kyrenia and also 'Golden Sands' the other R.and R. camp. In addition, we played at various officer and sergeant's messes throughout the island. The following relates one such 'gig'. I was the R.E.M.E. 'sparks' attached to the Regiment. In my experience, the most elite Light Infantry Regiment in the British Army. Berangaria Cyprus.....The week prior to New Years Eve 1957. The band was 'buzzing' and so was I. We had secured a 'gig' at the R.A.F., Sergeants Club at Berangaria, near Polimedia, for their New Years Eve dance. The Battalion was still based at Platres, up in the Troodos Mountains and arrangements had to be made to accommodate us overnight, because of military rules which existed at the time, concerning troop movement after 20.00 hours, due to terrorist (EOKA) activities. |
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Accordingly, signals were sent and we were eventually told that we were booked to stay at the barracks of The Royal Signals, a few miles distance from our venue.
During the week leading up to the 'gig', we practiced daily down at the band hut. I, having first ensured that there were no R.E.M.E. jobs to be done. I would look at the job cards attached to the vehicles in the compound and give a sigh of relief when they contained no electrical work! I then said to the lads, "If you need me, I'll be down in the band hut.
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L-R Pete O'Brien, (REME.
attd Vocalist),
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It had been decided that we would do the job with a quintet plus vocalist, me. Also, the Regiment had ordered a mini-bus with a civilian drive, to take us there, since we did not need to take large instruments such as the piano and drum kit. These were already available on site.
Early on New Years Eve, the band lads busied themselves getting everything ready and at about 16.30 hours, we all assembled at the band hut to board the waiting mini-bus. The driver was a Scotsman in his early fifties. Once on board and on the move, the 'craic' started and continued until we reached R.A.F. Berangaria a couple of hours later.
Having checked in at the guardroom, we were then escorted to the mess hall, where everything was decorated for the festive season. We got up onto the stage and whilst some unloaded the instruments and stands from the mini-bus, others erected what was needed on the stage. Whilst we were doing this, a mess steward was sent over to see what we would like to drink, compliments of the mess sergeant. Thus began one hell of a night. A totally memorable one for me! The bits that I could remember that is.
The music struck up at 19.30 hours and officers and NCOs, started to arrive in the hall with their respective partners about thirty minutes later. After a very short time and having obtained their drinks, some began to dance. This continued for a couple of hours and all of the time someone was sending drinks up for the band.
After a couple of hours, we took a well-earned break and tried to catch up on the booze that we had collected around our feet. We were also told to help ourselves to the buffet. After half an hour or so, we resumed playing. I had a well-rehearsed repertoire and did the songs as we had arranged.
An R.A.F., sergeant then had an idea for raising money for the charity, 'Wireless for the blind'. Guests would choose a song for me to sing and for the privilege they would put 'half a crown' (Twelve and a half pence.) into a collecting tin, to be sent on to the charity at a later date. The scheme went really well, with some guests contributing much more than the required amount of money. At some stage, a lady came up to me and after depositing her fee into the box asked, "Will you sing 'Love Letters in the Sand' for my daughter". Immediately, I recognised the West Midlands accent and asked " Where are you from in the Midlands?" "Smethwick" she replied. I told her that I was from Walsall and a little tete-a-tete followed. I then sang the song and continued with requests as they came up. Some time later the lady returned to thank me for the song and introduced me to her daughter. In two words 'A cracker' of about seventeen or eighteen years old. Surprisingly, she had a polished accent and in contrast to her mum, was almost regal.
At midnight we ended the request sessions and everyone joined in to a rendering of 'Auld Lang Syne,' after which we resumed our entertainment. However, by this time and after consuming considerably more alcohol, I was becoming a bit slurred and thought it a good time to get off, before it became too obvious or I fell off the stage. It was now around half past twelve and we only had another half an hour to play. I asked 'Okee', the bandleader, if it was okay to leave to get myself a dance. He agreed and down the stage I climbed, with some difficulty I might add. I then headed straight for the girl from Smethwick and asked her if she would like to dance. She asked her mum, who agreed and onto the floor we went. Looking back the next day I realised that I really did slobber over the poor girl and to add insult to injury asked her if I might walk her home. Well, 'home' was about ten miles away, in terrorist infested land and then she said, " No, I think I'll go with daddy," I still tried my luck later, though to no avail. She did ,however, agree to dance the last waltz with me , when again I asked if I could walk her home. For the 'enth' time she rightly refused.
At the end of the dance the band repeated 'Auld Lang Syne' and with everyone wishing each other a 'Happy New Year' I gave the girl a peck on the cheek and wished her likewise.
As the band came off the stage, a civilian, employed by the R.A.F. station, brought over a bottle of scotch and a bottle of champagne, saying "Here you are lads, have a drink on me. You've earned it"
Every one of us, by this time, had drunk more than enough, but it seemed a shame to let this gift go to waste. So we headed for the nearest empty table and filled our glasses. I had just picked up my glass of champagne, after 'downing' a large scotch, when a voice said, " 'Allo lad, I hear you want to walk my daughter home" I was seated, so was at a height of no more than three feet six. I wheeled my body slowly round in the direction of the voice, and in front of my eyes, was this white laurel wreath with a crown above it decorating the cuff of a R.A.F. sleeve. My blurred gaze then travelled up and up and endlessly up, until it came to the head of the guy. He must have been well over six feet and built like the proverbial brick door. Jesus I thought, what now. "Yes sir" I finally replied, to which the W.O.1 said " I tell you what son, go outside and say goodnight to my daughter and I'll take her home Ay"? I did as he suggested. A couple of kisses later and a 'Happy New Year' and then 'daddy' came out to check. I shall never forget that guy. He must have been the most liberal minded man, in the whole of the British armed forces!
We finished our drinks, packed the gear into the mini-bus and I then noticed the driver slumped over the steering wheel. He was a Scot too and had obviously enjoyed his 'Hogmanay' very well. We woke him up and I sat in the passenger seat. " Right 'Jock'" I said, " Give it some welly". He took me at my word and we streaked off at a rate of knots after booking out at the guardroom. He was weaving from one side of the road to the other and the guys in the back were shouting "Pete, slow him down for F*** sake, he'll kill us all" But I was too pissed to notice and so continued to urge him on whilst the shouts of the fellows in the back got louder and more urgent. Miraculously we arrived at our destination. Even more miraculously we weren't stopped by any military or any other police on the way.
Since I was in the front, I wound down the window and said to the guard at the barrier, " 1 R.U.R. band mate. Booked in here for the night" He scanned his order sheet and to our amazement said, I've got nothing down here. I'll have to fetch the Orderly Sergeant". Off he went, to return a few minutes later with his guard commander. "Where did you say you blokes were from". I explained again and he also stated that he knew nothing about us and would have to contact the Orderly Officer. A young lieutenant finally emerged from the dark and again I explained our reason for being at his camp gates. " Well" he said, " We'll have to fix them up somewhere sergeant. Perhaps you can deal with it" and off he went. Two went into some spare beds in a half empty billet, two stayed in the mini-bus with the driver, myself and the drummer found ourselves in the guardroom on beds without mattresses and one blanket each. Sleep did not come easy. I awoke the next morning feeling absolutely awful.
I decided to clean my teeth and have a drink of water from an outside tap. I cleaned my teeth okay, but as soon as the water hit my stomach, it decided to come back again. With the heat, this situation lasted for two days and I just wanted to die quietly. Food was not on my list of priorities and I vowed 'Never again'. But of course, most of us say this...until the next time.
However,
in spite of everything, that was a most memorable New Years Eve party.
Not only for me, but for all of us and of course, there was 'a next time'.
Copyright.
Pete O'Brien 2005.Copyright.
P.J.
O'Brien
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