Driving at Fifteen!

Hello,

Another Tuesday.

I said last week I’d tell you how my grandson, Eric, managed to pass his driving test before he could legally get a provisional license for a motorbike. Eric’s the son of my youngest lad, Frank; He’s another one… Norah calls him Liberace, but I’ll tell you about that another day… maybe next week.

Eric and his mate Cudge were a bit miffed about missing conscription, so they went to the barracks on Seymour Grove to enquire about the Territorial Army because someone told them that T.A. people got paid. I think I’ve already told you Eric’s like his old man for pushing boundaries, and the cadets didn’t get paid, so he thought the T.A. was a better idea. They filled the forms out and handed them in, only for the Sergeant Major to bring them back and tell them there was a mistake… Not that they were too young to join the T.A., just that they’d made a mistake with their dates of birth and told the two of them dates that would make the applications acceptable. Then it was a case of; going back to the recruiting officer, taking an oath of allegiance, being kitted out with a uniform that buried them and ordered to report back to the barracks on Sunday for the first of many drills paid at three and six a day. (3/6d =17.5P)

No one knew anything about this; we thought they were taking T.A. recruits younger because the conscription was closing. My missus spent hours making Eric’s uniform fit him. Cudge’s dad was no use; his mam’s died, so he looked like that character ‘Swampy’ in the Popeye comics until my missus made his fit. Then the two of them went to the Drill Hall the following Sunday, where they filled more forms out, were given a provisional army licence, and spent the rest of the afternoon driving seven-ton wagons up and down Seymour Grove on the basis that if they passed the test, there would be another three and six a day… At fifteen!

No one here knew this was happening; I only found out by accident… Norah and Connie knew before me, but they wouldn’t say anything. They passed tests with the army, giving them full licences to become army drivers, eventually they both passed army exams for fun that probably made them the most highly paid sappers in the regiment. As I’ve already mentioned, I only found out by accident…. I had to get my bowls from the shop on the way to a game one Sunday after a few pints in the Bridge, and there was an Austin Champ parked in the yard, with a bloody great aerial waving about in the breeze and the crackling of a radio streaming from a wireless in the back of the truck. When I went inside, there was Connie… blouse unbuttoned almost to the waist, all starry-eyed, serving tea to a young lieutenant sitting at the table with Eric.

“We’re on a manoeuvring exercise….” Eric said, a bit sheepishly. “This is my commanding officer, Lieutenant McCormack… I’m his radio operator; we’re on radio silence and need somewhere to be off the road..” The little tyke didn’t tell me he was also his driver, though. I was about to tell Connie to cover herself up when I noticed Norah’s head shaking, obviously indicating for me not to speak. So I kept quiet, retrieved the bowls from my office, then when I got back to the kitchen where Eric and the officer were leaving. When you’ve been in the military a long time, you do some things automatically. When Lieutenant McCormack put his cap back on and passed me on the loading bay… I saluted him, well not him, but the Queen’s commission he carried. I expected him to get in the driving seat, but no… Young Eric, headphones on, shouting something about a ‘Niner’, steering the Champ backwards through the gate and away down Virgil Street onto City Road. The expression on my face must’ve been a picture. Norah shook her head in despair.

“Nothing to do with me.” She said. “Take it up with him in the morning. He let himself in.” I had no answers; I just looked at Connie, who was wide-eyed and dreamy because of the handsome officer.

“Cover yourself up, Connie. I said; it being Sunday, there were no customers.

Anyway, This is getting too wordy again; I hope you enjoyed it, and I’ll be here again next week.

Have a great week, and take care.

Percy.